The Pact (Scömìche)(completed)

36 New year, new beginnings

Hello and happy Monday dear readers!

Ease into the week with your regular dose of (almost) Scomiche. 💖✨

It's time for the mini tour, and time for Scott and Mitch to move on.

As Mitch predicted, Kirstie was disappointed that Scott did not accompany him to her NYE party. But she was very happy to see Mitch and got him drunk enough not to mind when she scooped him up for a sloppy new year kiss just after midnight. He slept very soundly that night, enjoyed her hospitality for two days and flew back to LA feeling refreshed.

Scott sent the occasional text, but Mitch kept busy. He started seeing people from the old days, read scripts, and signed a three month lease on the apartment. He still didn't buy a car, and he still despised driving in LA, but he did it anyway. And he was careful to keep his schedule open.

On the fourteenth of January, he had flowers delivered to Scott's first stop in Santa Barbara with a note that read, "Break a leg. You got this."

He hardly expected any reply, but was pleasantly surprised to get a text late in the evening. He guessed Scott was in his bus at that point.

Hey Mitch

Thanks for the roses, all went okay, tired. Talk soon.

Scott

This made him happy.

The next day he checked YouTube and watched Scott 's performance. His voice was as strong as ever and there were plenty of his trademark riffs and runs to keep the fans screaming and singing along. The days passed and although they texted after each show, Mitch grew restless and watching fan videos only made it worse.

On the last day of January Mitch sat in an anonymous room watching the door. Phone in hand, he concentrated on marshalling the butterflies in his stomach, forcing them to fly in formation. He had done the same before countless performances. It never got easier.

A knock on the door startled him and he nearly dropped his phone.

"Ready, Mitch?"

"As I'll ever be." He pocketed the phone and followed Neal, his pulse quickening at the roar of the audience. And then he found his place in the wings as Scott started his opening song.

"Come on Seattle, let's make some noise!" Scott moved around easily, came down to the front row and touched hands, introduced his band and most of all, he sang while radiating passion.

Mitch melted into the shadows at the half-time break. He knew that Scott would head back to the dressing room, get his make-up retouched and change outfit, and chug as much water as he could manage, plus at least one energy drink.

Barely fifteen minutes later he returned in a white shirt and black jacket with a flag painted on the back, bounding on to the stage and asking the crowd if they'd missed him. The answering cheers assured him that they had.

Scott shone in the spotlight. Upbeat numbers slowed to heartfelt ballads that let him show a softer side. Finally he left the stage to rapturous applause, sweat beading on his forehead but the trademark quiff still in place. Neal pressed a water bottle into his hand as they talked while the makeup artist dabbed at his forehead with a sponge.

Mesmerised by people watching, Mitch forgot he was meant to stay hidden.

Scott's mouth fell open as he spotted him. He left Neal and walked towards Mitch, shaking his head.