The New Manager (Pentatonix)

15.

A/N- You asked... So here you go. Enjoy! -C

Esther, being a girl familiar with bobbypins, heard the unmistakable crack as they flew apart.

Kevin had been around Kirstie enough to recognize it as well, and realized what it meant.

The wig!

Kevin quickly made a plan.

"Esther. Get him out of here. Everyone else, out as well. I went to Yale- I know how to check for a concussion. Now OUT!" The usually mellow beatboxer yelled.

Shocked, everyone filed out.

"Shit, Mitch... are you okay?" Kevin asked, worried for the tenor.

Mitch groaned in response.

Kevin gently prodded the place where Mitch's head hit the floor. When he got a sharp hiss in response, he let out a rare string of exclaimatory language.

"That bad?" Mitch said.

Kevin nodded sadly.

"I'm so sorry Munchie... you know he didn't mean it." He said.

"Yah... it's just a shock, is all." Mitch said, still dazed.

"We need to go to the hospital. They're probably going to take the wig off. I'll get a discreet place." Kevin said, helping the tiny man up.

The two made their way out of the room after fixing the wig.

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"Ms. Coby? I'm sorry, but I need you to remove the hair pieces.       . And please remove any makeup around the facial area. It can distrupt the equipment." The kind doctor asked, in an examination room.

"It's Mx. Grassi. And it's a wig. I need confidentiality before taking it off." Mitch snapped.

"My apoligies. And you have it." The doctor said.

Mitch removed the wig and called Kevin to help him get the makeup off.

Mitch had known Dr. Mario Jose Dominic from when he lived at Scotts.

At seeing the plain tenor, Mario's eyes went wide.

"Mitch?" He asked.

The tenor smiled, wincing right afterwards.

"Nice to see you. And you too, Kevin." Mario was one of Avi's friends.

After a quick examination, the doctor concluded that Mitch indeed had a concussion.

"I'll let you guys go, and forward some info about care to Kev. If it gets worse, bring him back." The doctor said, letting the two leave.

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"He has a concussion." Kevin said bluntly.

Esther gasped. "No!"

Kevin bit his lip. "It's bad. The Doc said, besides the hangover like headache, we might be dealing with memory loss. He's not sure if it's short term or long term yet, only that it'll happen. And soon."

"Well shit..." Esther muttered.

"I'm just scared that he might forget something important. Like us. Or who Michelle is. Or who the top stars are. Or something else... there's just so much that could go wrong." Kevin said, wringing his hands.

"Only time will tell, I suppose." Esther said, and the two left the hospital to find the mortified Scott.

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Scott was blubbering in a corner of his bedroom, far from the living room where he accidently pushed Michelle.

Kevin found him, and proceeded to talk to him.

"Hey Scotty. What's wrong?" He asked gently, as not to frighten the terrified baritone.

"I p-pushed her... I hurt h-her... Shes h-hurt because of m-me... M-mitch was right..." he blubbered.

Kevin caught onto the last part of that.

"What was Mitch right about?" Kevin asked gently.

Scott sniffled, swiping at his eyes angrily.

"Mitch said I ruin everything that I touch... I was the reason he left the group. It's all my fault. And now I've hurt Michelle... I'm a horrible person, Kevvy."

Try as he did, he couldn't argue that point. He HAD hurt Mitch... And Michelle...

At the silence, Scott promptly started crying again. He was unconsolable, and Kevin gave up.

He got Avi, and the two went to the hospital.

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"Avi... I should probably warn you about what you're about to see." Kevin said, as he was navigaging the busy freeway.

"Is she that bad?" Avi asked, worry clouding his flawless features.

"Well it's not as much that as something else..." Kevin muttered.

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Avi stared at the figure in the bed. "Kevin?! Why is Mitchell here?!" He roared.

The sound made Mitch wince, covering his ears.

"Because Michelle doesn't exist." Kev said blatantly.

Avi noticed the wig sitting on a chair, all the makeup scattered around, and the contacts case sitting on the bedside table.

"Mitchy... why would you do this?" Avi asked softly, pain in his voice.

"That's easy," the tenor said, coughing a little, "you guys needed me. I would never abandon you."

Avi gave a sad laugh. "Then where have you been these past three years?"

"Besides my job waitressing? Mostly staying behind the scenes. Getting calls from Esther, giving her advice, being told how everyone is doing. Sometimes I'd get short videos and pictures sent to me. Wash, Rinse, Repeat." Mitch shrugged. "It wasn't much, but it was enough. Esther convinced me to take a physical position beside her. I didn't want to. Still don't want to. It hurts too much. But here I am."

Avi stroked his beard in thought.

"Wait... why did you leave in the first place?" He asked, the huge question probing at him.

"Because of Scott. He's why I left." Mitch said flippantly. He paused, then exhaled slowly. "He's also why I'm leaving again."

Avi and Kevin gasped.

"But why?!" Kevin cried out.

"Because it hurts! God damnit, guys. It hurts." Mitchs tone dropped, and he started tearing up.

He paused to wipe his eyes, and even his tone out a little.

"Not just physically- although gouging my insides out with a dull plastic spoon would hurt less than my head does right now. It just... hurts too much to be around him. It hurts to see him so happy and then see him so sad. He's the one who caused my depression and anxiety and crap, and the one who helped me through it. He's... God, he's just so HIM!" Mitch cried out.

Kevin was conflicted. He wanted to help the tenor, but he didn't know how.

"Damnit, Munchie. What do we do?" Avi asked.

"I don't even know. I can't be around him, but I can't NOT be around him either. Damn, I'm a mess. I need him, but he doesn't want or need me. I just don't know what to do." He confessed.

Avi pulled him into a tight hug.

"What you always do, Munchie. You take a step back, took at your plan of attack, and then strike back." The bearded man said, his long hair loose down his back.

"Thanks, Avi." Mitch whispered, before falling asleep in his arms.