Lest I Forget

Reach Out and Take It

Life in beautiful Nashville wasn't all too bad for Mitch, at least for the week he was discovering where he would live and touring his new record label home. He kept extremely busy by meeting up with his friend that he'd talked to over social media, Claudia. She was more than happy to accept Mitch into her home while he was finding his rejuvenated self. He found the perfect set of apartments that were two blocks from the new label. The atmosphere was absolutely perfect, and there wasn't even a pet deposit. Mitch definitely would be taking Wyatt with him. He was the only part of Los Angeles, besides Avi and Fia, that he wanted to remember. Everything else was too painful. But Nashville held such potential.

Mitch made sure to identify all of the popular places, thanks to Claudia's Nashville expertise. She showed him Starbucks as an immediate response to his questioning about where the best coffee was, but he surprisingly said no. He said that Starbucks would bring him memories that he didn't want to hold. Instead, there was Luke's Diner. No, not the one from Stars Hollow (though, that would be a dream come true.) This Diner was named before Gilmore Girls became a television show, and the owner, Luke Jefferson, always liked to pretend that the writers stopped by his Diner while thinking of ideas for the show. Luke's Diner became a home for Mitch during the few days he was there.

Upon the first day, Luke came up and introduced himself, providing a warm handshake and a hug. He didn't believe in not making friends right off the bat, so he always would force whomever to break their boundaries and believe in trust. And Luke did just that - gain Mitch's trust. He found himself stopping by the Diner almost three to four times a day. He laughed, claiming he was channeling his inner 'Lorelai' and allowing his life to be run by coffee. Of course, Luke didn't have all of the popular, healthier items that Starbucks did... but he made a perfect black coffee, and Mitch was satisfied with the simplicity.

He had been there for four days and found himself being drawn to the diner. He sat up at the bar top and tapped on the table, anxious for some coffee, like it had become a part of his blood in four days.

"Damn, kid, you're going to drill a hole in the table if you don't stop that," said the older man, appearing out of nowhere and setting a cup of coffee in front of Mitch. "Haven't I seen you twice today?"

Mitch grinned, taking the multi-colored cup and bringing it to his lips. One of his favorite parts about the Diner was that people donated coffee cups, so he could have the most random cups, to the most generic. This one appeared to be Starry Night, yet with a different color scheme. There were a lot of brighter colors, almost like it was inverted. "I don't know what you're talking about." He took a sip, savoring the warmth.

"Yeah, yeah. Today you're extra antsy, though. What's going on, Fringie?" The very first day that Mitch stepped foot into the Diner he had stolen Claudia's Pink Ladies jacket and marched proudly into the store. Luke saw it appropriate to call him something Grease related, and the most perfect thing that came to mind was Fringie. It was befitting.

"I dunno, Luke. I should be extremely happy that I'm moving here, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm going to be under satisfied." He traced the rim of the coffee cup, looking into the dark colored liquid, wishing it was some miracle substance that could make him forget.

"Explain? I've got all day." He leaned against the other side of the bar and placed an arm on top, balancing him while he stood.

"Well," he begun. He wondered how he would explain this story... how he would explain months of build up of a relationship, only to be forgotten in an instance. It was a heart wrenching story, really. And, the more he thought about the story, the sadder he was for himself. It assured him that he truly did need Nashville. "There's a boy back in L.A. that I grew to love. He was everything perfect bundled up in a skyscraper height, perfect blonde hair that always set atop his head like he had a stylist come and work on it every morning. He always greeted me with a smile and was so happy to be alive, even on my most depressing days. He's what got me out of bed every morning... and he's forgotten about me." He took another sip of coffee, which he mentalized as a large shot of vodka. It didn't do the trick, but he did down almost all of his coffee in one swig.