Just for Show

19. Disaster

19. Disaster

Mitch wasn't surprised to hear the shower running when he awoke the next morning.

His heart felt like it had a hangover. He couldn't explain it, but it hurt.

He wasn't sure what he was going to say to Scott when he came back out of the bathroom. Should he act like their conversation never happened?

The bathroom door opened just as he was mulling all of this over, and Mitch wasn't entirely sure if he was having a heart attack.

"So... we should probably decide what to do," Scott muttered, and Mitch nearly bit his head off for coming and saying something so casually while dressed in nothing but one of those fluffy white hotel bathrobes.

Mitch shrugged, averting his gaze. He felt stupid for how painful this was for him. How could he become so invested in someone he hardly knew anymore?

"Which is the better option? In your experience?" Mitch asked, trying to keep his voice equally casual.

"Maybe we should just... finish this out as planned. Then go our separate ways. The original idea."

"No... no friends, then?"

Scott nodded with a sympathetic smile, but his phone vibrated on the nightstand, interrupting the sound of Mitch's heart breaking.

"It's my boss... I'll be right back."

Scott took the phone out on the balcony, and Mitch found himself watching as Scott paced back and forth with the device pressed to his ear.

Don't you mean 'my pimp'? Mitch thought, bitterly.

The blond's facial expression was stony. He spoke minimally, and it appeared that he was often being cut off.

Something wasn't right. And with each minute that passed, Mitch became more anxious.

Scott slammed the sliding glass door shut on his way in, and made a beeline straight for his suitcase, refusing to make eye contact with the man watching him from the bed.

Mitch's heart nearly stopped as Scott took the suitcase from the closet, retreated into the bathroom with clothes, and came back out in his blue suit from the first night. The blond took the suitcase and went to the door.

"Wait... what are you doing?" Mitch asked, unable to hide his panic.

When Scott turned around, he looked like he was fighting every urge within himself not to strangle Mitch completely.

"You got what you wanted," Scott nearly spat, hatefully. Before he could turn to leave, Mitch reached for his arm. The blond shrugged him off, snatching his arm backwards, his face turning red. "Why do you all always think you can just touch me whenever the fuck you want?"

"Scott... what is happening?" Mitch nearly croaked, holding his hands up in a surrender.

"Don't act like you aren't the one who just got me fired. Not just from this assignment, but from the agency, completely. Calling my boss and telling him about Joe? Thanks so much." Scott opened the hotel room door and turned back, one more time. "Hey, Mitch? Fuck you. And fuck your friends, too."

The door slammed behind him, and Mitch thought he might faint.

He could hear voices in the hall, and he gained control of his own body to investigate it after what felt like an eternity.

He found Kirstin and Ben watching Scott with pale faces. Scott was speaking monotonously, but his face held an angry sneer on its handsome features.

He was dripping with hatred. Mitch could see it.