Lest I Forget

Don't (Times Four)

"No, Avriel. I'm just window shopping." Mitch stared into the windows of the most beautiful building. If only he had all of the money in the world to shop at Loewe. A girl could hope, right? "Of course I am window shopping. I am perfectly capable of not purchasing anything." The striped sweater in the window was calling out to him, but the price tag was simply laughing. He knew if he even touched the sweater that he'd be pulling out his credit card. "Okay, you might be right about that, but--" He stared longingly at the sweater, scrunching his nose at the interruption. "Okay, now you're just judging me." He laughed and put a hand on his hip and readjusted the Bluetooth in his ear as he continued walking, but at a very slow pace. That sweater was too beautiful. "Blah, blah. The truth hurts. Ugh, I'm gonna let you go so I can get back to blasting Sophie in my ears." Black. Grey. Orange. White. Blue. And repeat. He needed it. "God, of course I'm coming to see you before I leave. It's not like I'm leaving for good tomorrow. I'm only going for a week." He walked away from the store, feeling proud, and empty. "You know why I'm doing this. Of course you know why." He walked past a Forever 21. This store seemed so measly in comparison to the beautiful Loewe. It didn't sound French enough to belong. "Well, you can come and visit me. This place hurts too much, at least right now." He peered into the window of Forever 21. Nothing looked cute. He saw Loewe out of his peripherals. Buy me, screamed the cute sweater. "Of course I can come see you today. I need my Avriel fix before going to Nash." Buy me. Buy me. Buy me. "I'll talk to you later, hunty. I'll come over tonight and we can have our manly beer sesh, as long as I can wear bright red lipstick." He faced Loewe. It was right. There. "Okay. Love you, too."

Needless to say, he charged it on his card. That sweater needed him more than he needed it, and he expressed his love by finding a bathroom and immediately putting it on. A sweater that perfect (and frighteningly expensive) needed to be flaunted. It looked even better once he threw on his tan colored sunglasses.

He continued to walk along the sidewalk, his bag on his elbow and Sophie streaming through his ears as he distracted himself. He would be leaving for Nashville the next day for a week to allow time to find an apartment and to meet the big wigs at his new record label. Along with recording, he'd also be doing some producing of his own. They seemed to take a great liking to his upcoming talent, and figured he deserved to be given more than one job at the new label. This would be his only source of income, and he was more than happy to kiss his restaurant days goodbye. Devoting his life to music was his only source of happiness. Sure, he'd miss his friends and life in Los Angeles... but life needed to propel. He needed to forget. He needed to...

"Mitch Grassi?" The familiar voice broke through Mitch's music, sparking interest in something other than Sophie streaming in his head. It was a voice that called out like the deepest memory in his mind. It pulled from the depths of those memories he'd tried to bury, though he truly could never bury them... that tall blonde hair would always come back. He just didn't think that it would come back in the flesh...

But then he thought of something. This was Scott's voice. Scott was calling out to him. And suddenly the tenor's heart began pounding fierce, practically leaping out of his chest. He didn't get himself too excited, but he turned around, spotting the familiar plaid shirt. That goofy grin. The skyscraper in the flesh. It was his skyscraper. His eyes lit up at the sight of the blonde. He switched his Bluetooth off and waved, opening his mouth to speak, but the blonde interrupted once he grew closer.

"I can't believe I met the Mitch Grassi. I literally just listened to your album for the first time! Or... uh, yeah. The first time!" A frown hinted in Mitch's brow, but he kept his mouth in a smile position. Okay, so Scott didn't remember him, but this was different. Scott recognized him from his album. Scott had been exposed to Mitch's internal dilemmas. And that scared the tenor shitless.