Seasons - Winter winds

Chapter 11

Scott took out his wallet and pulled out some hundred-dollar bills. The man coming up the stairs was dark-skinned, slim, and petite. He was running his hand through his hair, fixing it after a shower.

"Thank you for the day," Scott extended the bills to him.

"It's always a pleasure," the man smiled, showing his dimples. He took the money and put it in the backpack he carried on his shoulders.

"I know I went over time..." Scott felt his neck turn pink. "So I'm giving you a tip..."

"I never mind going over time with you," the man smiled at Scott. "That's why I never schedule anything after you."

The man took a step forward and planted a brief kiss on Scott's lips. The singer just took a deep breath, trying to suppress the urge to grab the man's hips.

"Oh..." The man began to move away toward the foyer. "The music is great, congratulations."

He let his shoulders drop as the door closed. He turned away from the entrance hall and headed towards the living room. He stood still, looking at the piano in front of the wide windows where the lights of Los Angeles shone. He didn't feel like playing the piano. He turned his back on the musical instrument and looked at the TV room. He went to the couch and flopped down on it, staring at the ceiling.

Using Andrew's services had never left such a bitter taste in his mouth. Scott heard his phone vibrating; the device was near the TV. He got up to grab the phone, quickly scrolling through all the messages congratulating him on the music. He only replied to his mother and checked what Esther wanted.

He lay back down, adjusting the pillow to get comfortable. He logged into one of his social media accounts, checking that his social media manager had posted a photo thanking fans for all their support. It was a picture from the day he had filmed the music video.

Then he decided to dig deeper to see what the fans were saying about the song.

@feverhoying: The song is great, but I'm not sure if I understood the music video.

@sickforyou: I just want to know who he wrote the song for.

He licked his lips and let the phone fall onto his chest.

*

Mitch kicked off the covers and turned to face the ceiling. He couldn't sleep, despite his exhaustion. His body was tired from all the physical exertion in the theater, which usually helped him fall into a deep sleep. But not that night. No matter how much he tossed and turned, he couldn't find rest. He tried lying on his stomach, on his side, on his back — he even changed his clothes multiple times, hoping it might help.

Rubbing his face in frustration, he took a deep breath. The words he had said to Austin kept echoing in his mind. He was surrounded by Scott. Everywhere he looked... he was surrounded by Scott. If he wanted to make this work, then he would need to move out of his parents' house.

Mentally calculating how much of his savings he had left, Mitch considered the possibility of renting a small place. He didn't need much anyway.

Rubbing his face again, he sighed heavily. He glanced at the cellphone on the small table beside his bed. He reached over and unlocked the device, instinctively opening the YouTube app before he could even stop himself. He typed in a search and opened the first video that appeared.

Scott pushed open a door. Loud music blasted through the air, accompanying a crowd of people dancing on an improvised dance floor. He made a beeline for the bar and took a seat, a shot promptly slid in front of him. He downed it. Another shot followed suit. And he drank that too.