Scomiche One Shots

o b s e s s e d

Based off this tweet!!

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Mitch bit his lip as his favorite singer of Pentatonix killed yet another riff. Honestly, he was beginning to think that was just how Scott worked.

Scott Hoying was amazing - much like the other three of the group of four young adults known as Pentatonix (they had originally been made up of five but the fifth member had quit early on).

Sure, Mitch appreciated all of their voices and he knew the group would not be the same without one of them but, of course, that did not stop him from falling in love with tall, blonde and handsome's voice.

He sent out another positive tweet - the group was doing a live stream to celebrate the release of their first original album.

Of course, with ten million YouTube subscribers, Mitch knew the chances of his tweet even being seen by one of them was slim. He locked his phone screen after setting one of their songs to play softly and grabbed a book to read until he fell asleep.

Most nights, unlike this one, Mitch often laid in bed at night, silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he listened to one of their particularly moving songs, like Light in the Hallway or Run to You and stared up at the ceiling. He'd mouth the words to himself. There was a strong connection he had made with their voices - they provided comfort and he knew the waterworks were because they helped him feel less alone in the world with their pure talent.

He let his eyes close as he thought back to the night before when he'd done so.

He woke up fairly early the next morning and decided the best way to get the sleepiness out of his eyes was to blast some more of his favorite band. Scott's voice, particularly, had a natural way of soothing him entirely but also get him pumped for what was to come as the day went on.

He was a little invested.

So much so, that when he checked his phone and saw a tweet from Scott Hoying, he was surprised he hadn't fainted.

Scott Hoying had seen his tweet and replied.

Mitch let himself fall back onto his bed, his phone clutched tightly in his hand against his chest as he tightly closed his eyes and squealed.

The Scott Hoying.