Reconnection ~ (Scömìche)

Divide

Here's an update for you! Sorry bout it :( 

Comments make me happy..

Enjoy! 

misbehavinmitchy x 

MITCH:

Scott was in a rage when I got downstairs. He had run off faster than I had ever seen him move and was in the kitchen in a flash, practically shouting in these two guys' faces. I'll admit, the kitchen was in a state. If that were my house I'd be so mad, and Scott's wine probably cost at least triple what mine did. From what I could see from my position in the living room, there seemed to be a short dark skinned man swimming about in a pool of red wine. It was a tragic sight to look upon if there ever was one.

Before I knew it Scott had whirled around and was demanding everyone to get the hell out of his house. I'd never seen him so angry before, but then again I hadn't really seen him in five years. All I could think was that he was like a completely different person than he was five seconds ago when we were joking, and he was singing and everything seemed okay.

"Guys, please, just leave. I need to clean this place up," he was saying to a brunette girl with a tattoo sleeve coating her bicep, and an older man who I recognised as Scott's tour hair and makeup guy. "I'm sorry I'm just really not in the mood to party anymore. It's not your fault, I'll be fine." He was insisting.

I shied away, not wanting Scott to catch me eavesdropping on the conversation, and went to take a seat in the now hastily emptying lounge. I curled up in the comfiest looking leather armchair and waited for Scott to find me. I wanted to say a proper goodbye, not just leave without even realising I'd gone, like most of his other guests were doing. I listened to the grumbles of the many beautiful, well-dressed people as they trundled out of the vast front door. There were far more people about than the twenty friends Scott said he had invited, so either he changed his mind or at least half of these people were uninvited guests. I frowned in disapproval as I realised these were Scott's friends, and yet they'd still not passed up the chance to drink copious amounts of alcohol, bring along unwanted guests and more or less ruin his beautiful house.

Before long I was so lost in the inward workings of my mind that I hadn't noticed the last gang of people hop into their Uber. I snapped out of my daydream and looked around me to see a desolate living room and barely a sound coming from anywhere. Scott must have turned off the music as everyone was leaving because the only noise reaching my eardrums was the dull whine of the electric fan above my head. I was about to rise from my chair, feeling like an intruder in the mansion I was in, when, as if on cue, Scott entered. He was running a hand through the front section of his thick blonde mass of hair, just like he used to do when he got super stressed during finals week or school dress rehearsals. I noticed the bottoms of his white converse were tinged red with wine. I could have called out to him then, but instead I simply watched in fascination as he collapsed onto the couch and kicked his shoes off in one swift motion. His head was hunched over in his hands with his elbows resting on his knees. He looked done, like really done.

I wondered if perhaps he too felt drained after a night of far too much socialising and not enough solitude. I certainly did. But somehow, I couldn't bring myself to just leave him there in that state.

I stood up and crept over to the tall blonde figure, not wanting to break the thick silence hanging in the air. I carefully placed my hand on his shoulder in a desperate attempt to offer him some comfort, but alas, it had the complete opposite effect altogether. Scott practically jumped out of his skin!

"Mitch!" he yelled, clutching his chest and trying to recapture his breath. "I thought everyone had left," he continued, turning around to face me in his chair, cheeks burning red.