Lest I Forget

No One Likes You, Alicia

"Today's the day, Aviréal." Mitch looked in the mirror and smoothed out his black Loewe turtleneck and fixed his bangs for the fifteenth time in the past twenty minutes. He also didn't pass up a moment to fix his septum piercing from looking a little lopsided. He made a quick power pose in the mirror: hands on his hips, shoulders back, left leg slightly in front of the left, and pursed his lips. He felt so confident about today.

"You're starting at RCA?" Avi's deep, luxurious voice came from Mitch's phone, which lay on the counter. Mitch chose to talk with the speaker phone on while he got ready, and there was always something about his best friend's voice that could calm him into relaxation. "Rock and roll. You're going to do great!"

"Thanks. I'm a little uneasy, but I'm feeling more confident than I was when I had my interview. They loved my demos, and now they get to actually hear me, which is a little nerve racking." Mitch grind his teeth slightly while he looked at his pearly whites in the mirror. Sure, sending a demo in was one thing. There was always some tweaking when it came to an audio recording, whether it be tangible or just mental.

"That's typically what they do." Avi's flourishing laugh echoed in Mitch's petite bathroom. "Come over when you're done and we can talk all about it."

"Absolutely. I'm ready to get out of the damn service industry and make a living doing something I enjoy. I mean, don't get me wrong. I love food, but I'd rather be the one consuming it and not serving it."

"You still consume it even while you're serving it." Mitch could sense a typical Avi smirk. There was no doubt about it. Working in a tiny little café had its perks. The food was great, and a "mess up" on orders was always nice. The workers always had food to munch on in the back where no one could see them. "Call me later. I've got to get back to work on the Academy applicants. Say hello to Ben for me."

"Will do. Have fun listening to all of those wonderful scales! Bye, Kaplan." Mitch ended the phone call after Avi said his goodbyes. He looked into the mirror a little closer and glared at his reflection. "These little hairs don't belong there." He pulled some tweezers out of his makeup box and went to town on a few stubborn eyebrow hairs that were being defiant.

It was his first day to begin recording at RCA Records. Granted, he might not get any recording done, but it was still an all new experience. New people. A new atmosphere. Finally his chance out of the serving world. He was very thankful for the serving job, though. If it weren't for serving he would've never met Avi Kaplan four years ago. They were co-workers until Avi decided his passion was to build a "huge log cabin for my future family and [put] together an a cappella camp every summer." In college was when Avi met Ben Bram, who made everything happen. Avi and Ben created the A Cappella Academy, which is a summer camp where high school aged students can come to learn techniques and qualities of singers who are interested in A Cappella. This brilliant idea of theirs sparked interest in more students than they thought imaginable, so they branched out from summer to year round. Avi was the head of the Academy. Ben would pop in every now and then to assist, but he had another job he was highly invested in. Ben is one of the producers at RCA Records, and whenever Avi slipped him a secret demo of Mitch's "secret weapon" (as Avi would like to call his beautiful, angelic voice) he knew there was something there. Now, finally getting this chance, he'd soak up the sun and get as much experience and knowledge as possible.

Mitch finished getting ready and struck another power pose in the mirror, this time facing head on, his hands on his hips, and looking straight ahead. "All right, Grassi. You've got this. You're finally getting out of the service industry." He walked out of the bathroom, out the door, and was ready to conquer this new world. He had no idea what he was really getting himself into.

---

The building smelled like new paper. There were hallways lined with records from Britney Spears, Miley Cyrus, Imogen Heap, Hilary Duff, Kelly Clarkson, Alicia Keys... Mitch couldn't help but smirk at the Alicia Keys album hanging above the hallway to the right. He'd pretend like he idolized her to her face, but secretly he found her voice to be atrocious and whiny. No one likes you, Alicia. No one.