kiss the boy | scömìche

chapter nineteen

For a couple weeks, everything is fine. Mitch is able to support himself on just his piano playing job and the funds from the last two songs he sold to Scott.

But then, everything comes tumbling down.

He gets behind on his payments and the bank takes his apartment away.

Mitch came to Scott that night, on the verge of tears and about to collapse from pure exhaustion. Scott, of course, takes him in and comforts him, telling him everything would be okay.

He also suggests something.

"How about you moved in with me?"

Mitch stares at him for a good thirty seconds after the question escapes Scott's lips, trying to figure out if he's joking. When Scott doesn't burst out laughing, Mitch slowly writes out an answer on his notepad.

What about Kirstie?

"She moved in with her boyfriend."

Are you sure?

"About what? You moving in? Of course I'm sure. So, what do you say? I could use another roommate."

The largest smile Scott has ever seen Mitch wear breaks across his face, and Mitch throws his arms around Scott's neck. He still doesn't say anything, but Scott gets the message: Thank you.

A month later, Mitch is settled in his new room, Wyatt winding around his legs as he practices the piano. Scott is currently gone with some guy named Alex — Mitch remembers him vaguely from the night he came crying to Scott when Nathan broke up with him the second time — so Mitch has the house to himself.

Well, at least until he has to leave for his gig.

Mitch finally plays his piece perfectly and smiles to himself triumphantly, bending down to scoop Wyatt into his arms and scratch gently behind the hairless cat's ears as his eyes trail over the music one last time. Satisfied, he packs his bag and slings it over his shoulder, writing out a quick note to Scott in case he got back before Mitch did.

Scottiemoo,

I have a gig tonight, so if I'm not here when you return know I'm safe. I should be back around 10:00, but don't get worried until midnight.

Text me if you need anything.

Your queen,

Mitchiemoo <3

+++

Mitch gulps as he stares up at the large house, his bag clutched tightly in his hand. Mitch suddenly wishes he were back home with Scott, but he pushes himself forward and goes inside.

He's met immediately by a small man with a large smile on his face and his grayish-blue eyes sparkling. "Hi! I'm Tyler. I'm assuming you're Mitch Grassi, the piano player?" he says, his words tumbling out so fast Mitch barely has time to catch them. Mitch slowly nods, wary of the bubbly man.

"Great! Follow me."

Tyler leads Mitch to a large piano on a platform in the middle of a dance floor, people already surrounding it. Mitch gulps again, but Tyler ignores this, pushing him up onto the platform. "Good luck!"

Three hours later, Tyler comes up to him again, an even wider smile on his face. "You did great, Mitch! You're free. The boss told me to tell you that you can mingle for a bit as long as you go see him before you go." Tyler watches, slightly confused, as Mitch gets his notepad out and scribbles a note.

Thanks. Could you show me where he is?

Tyler's eyes flicker back and forth between the note and Mitch before realization dawns on his face. "Yeah, sure. Follow me."

Tyler drops Mitch off in front of a large oak door, smiling somewhat nervously at him. "Bye, Mitch. It was nice meeting you," he says, turning and walking away. Mitch watches him go for a few seconds, the worry in Tyler's eyes evident in his mind. However, he pushes those thoughts away and knocks on the door.

"Come in!"

Mitch obeys, pushing against the door with all his might and somehow managing to get it open. A man is sitting at a large desk in the middle of his room, and Mitch shifts uncomfortably as the man shamelessly checks him out. "Put your bag there," he says, but it comes out more like a hungry growl. Mitch gulps for the third time that night and shakily sets his bag down, inching towards the man.

He abruptly stands up and shoves Mitch against the wall, cornering him. Mitch's eyes widen with fear, but he doesn't dare try to run.

"How much extra for you to stay a bit later?"

Mitch hesitates, but his mind flickers to Scott and how happy he'd be if Mitch did something special for him, and he makes up his mind.

$1,000.

The man grins as he reads the price, already slamming Mitch against the desk. "Done."