The Pact (Scömìche)(completed)

1 Time to Party

Hello, thanks for reading! This is my first Scômichè story, and I hope you like it.

It's party time for Scott.

Scott walked around his house, taking mental notes of everything he saw. It was all shaping up nicely, the decorators had done a great job and the caterers were setting up in the outdoor kitchen. Booze, balloons, and a hot playlist with favourites old and new were all in place. Only one thing was missing, but he forced his thoughts away.

He paused at the table in the entry hall. He had instructed the florist to make a grand arrangement, and she exceeded his expectations. For those in the know, the asters, larkspur, roses and carnations meant something, and for the others, the flowers were simply beautiful.

He bent to sniff the roses and was disappointed to find they had no scent. That was the trouble with florist roses. Somehow this triggered a memory from years back, when he had talked about scented speakers, crammed in a car with his group. That was so long ago, when they were all young and excited about starting their musical journey. He smiled to himself. A lot had happened since then.

Pentatonix grew and grew until, many Grammys and platinum discs and tours later, they each burst from their shared bubble into individual success. One by one, they left LA in search of the next dream. 

Avi married Saskia and retreated to his ranch in Oregon, where they raised children and horses in between recording in his home studio. Twins Cassidy and Melissa ran around with huskies and ponies in upstate New York, a base for Kirstie and Jeremy when they weren't in NYC doing shows. Kevin divided his time in Washington between public service, preaching at his church, and his beloved Taralynn, mother of their four adored children. 

 As for Mitch... he was anywhere and everywhere. But the one place he could not be found was at Scott's side, and so he put him out of his mind.

Scott accumulated more nephews and nieces than he could count, and kept track of all the names and birthdays on a spreadsheet so that his assistant could ensure they got gifts from Uncle Scott when he couldn't be there. And that was often, as he had developed his own solo musical career alongside writing music for movies and even a musical. 

He worked hard, kept himself in shape in his basement gym, swam in his pool and enjoyed the fruits of his success. And mostly he put the PTX days in a box marked old memories, and left them there.

Scott wandered into his huge kitchen. He nodded at the catering team and poured himself a glass of orange juice, then went into the garden and sat on a bench. He sipped juice and shaded his eyes against the sun that already beat down, even though it was well before noon. It would be a lovely warm evening for the party, starting around sunset. Long before then, he hoped his favourite people would arrive and they could catch up. Most of them, anyway.

A team was busy setting up hammocks and torches to light after sunset. Other people arranged fluffy towels in the summerhouse for guests to use once the inevitable happened and someone got thrown in the pool, and others piled into the hot tub. That was just one of the advantages of staying in LA, the weather was reliable.

Scott ignored the phone buzzing and vibrating in his pocket. He wanted to enjoy this moment of calm before it all kicked off. There wouldn't be a moment to think once he got on this crazy train. He strolled back to the house and went to his office, where he lounged on a leather couch and stared out of the window. There was only one thing missing, but he tiptoed around the elephant in his mental room, and he would not name it.

With a sigh he sat at the desk, took out his phone, and made the first call.

"Hey, Mario, good to hear from you! You're both coming tonight, right? You'll make an old man very happy... great, no anytime is good, say after six?" He made sure to sound upbeat and happy, which he was. Mostly.

Once all the calls were returned, Scott went to his gym and ran on the treadmill. He turned up the speed and concentrated on his feet hitting the track in time with the bouncy music from his headphones, until he was breathless and sweating. After five miles he turned the speed down and walked till his breathing evened out, then he lifted weights and worked his core until his muscles hummed and trembled.

Finally he peeled off his sweat soaked gear and stood under the shower, emptying his mind as he had taught himself during the dark days. He had tried various ways to escape his thoughts, but in the end drink and drugs proved less reliable than this practice. Water poured over him, and he imagined it washing away his doubts and fears, cleansing body and soul. When he stepped out, he felt loose and content.

He had come to realise that happiness was only a fleeting moment, a peak experience, but contentment was possible at every moment. Contentment meant accepting what was and releasing what was not, however much you wanted it. It meant not chasing happiness, because that way madness lies. Scott had trained himself to let happiness come to him, and not go crazy if it did not immediately arrive.

Back in his bedroom, he stood naked in front of the full-length mirror and took stock. Yes, he had to work a little harder these days to keep in shape, but he looked good, if he said so himself. And he had to, because there had not been anyone in his life to appreciate his toned arms and abs, or run their fingers through his signature blond quiff, for a while now. Still, there was time.

"Forty is the new thirty," he said aloud. 

He looked at his phone. There were seventeen missed calls and messages while it was on silent during his workout. Tonight was going to be a blast, and he pulled on a white tee and jogging pants before going back to the office barefoot to catch up on emails.

After a light, carb-free lunch of prawn and avocado salad, Scott carried on working until the doorbell rang. The clock showed two fifteen, and he wasn't expecting anyone that early. On the other hand, he was very ready to see a friendly face and break for coffee, so he jumped up and flung the door open. A familiar, well-loved face broke into a wide smile.

"Well, hello stranger."

A/N How's that for a start? 

Planning weekly updates so vote, comment, all that good stuff!