In The Blood

Updating Pentatonix

(Scott)

Folding my hands in my lap, I shifted my weight. I was trying to not let my feelings be hurt, but it was hard. We'd all been in this waiting room all night long, all been scared to death for Rob. We all love Rob. Home Free was obviously closer to him; hell, they'd been friends and bandmates with him for eons, but still. We may only have known him for a very short time—was it two weeks, if that? We'd met just a few days before Christmas. OK, so a little more than a week. But still. He was our friend. More than an acquaintance but a friend. Maybe I'm too quick to open my heart and love, but that's just me; always have been. Better to love too much than not enough or not at all. Sure, I'll get my heart broken that way, but I wouldn't be me any other way. And my heart had been breaking slowly all night, just thinking, just worrying about Rob. I would have worried for any one of us ten. Pentatonix, Home Free; they're just labels and names, and labels and names don't matter when it comes down to it. We're all unique people with unique personalities, and I love each one of us for who we are specifically. If, sixteen years ago, things had worked out differently and we were all 'up for grabs', so to speak, any one of them would have been accepted into Pentatonix with open arms. Each one of them were superb singers, granted, with a country side. Especially Tim, Austin, and Chance. What I wouldn't do to have an ounce of Tim's creativity (I'm creative enough, but not as much as he is), Adam's arranging ability (I'm OK with arranging but I tend to do best within a group where I can feed off others and bounce ideas around), or any one of their adeptness with instruments (yeah, I can play piano, but that's like the easiest instrument to learn). I am perfectly good enough to make it, but I do my best and my talents are drawn out in a group setting. That's where I shine. I just know myself well enough to know how to put myself in the best light and showcase my own particular talents. I love and respect each member of Home Free and it was breaking my heart to have Rob flirting with death here. Price I pay for love? Maybe so, but still better than not loving. And for God's sake, I was scared for someone I loved. I've never lost a friend—anyone—before and here I was, in a Los Angeles OR waiting room, nibbling fingernails, with a ninety-five percent chance of losing a good friend. It was like Avi all over again, but this time it was in person and there was little room for misunderstandings. This time, this was for real. And I was scared and in the dark. I do not like being in the dark. Hell, I was afraid of the dark up until my teems (still don't particularly care for it). I was scared for Rob and there was now info to be had that was being kept from me, from us. I understood why Kelsey'd gone first; I understood why Home Free was second. I understood. If the situation was reversed, we'd be the first to be in there to get information about our critically injured member. I understood. But nevertheless, deep inside, I couldn't help but feel a little hurt that the nurse had requested only Home Free back there and that our names weren't even on the list. We were all as equally invested in Rob, in the shooting, as they were. We were there. We witnessed him being shot. We were there up until they forced us apart, Rob on a life flight out, Tim on an urgent ambulance ride; Chance with a broken wrist and Adam and Austin following their best friends. I understood we were lower priority and I accepted that. I just felt that we deserved to know if Rob was alive or dead in his quest, his desperate attempt, to save Tim. I was scared and wanted to cry in the fear; I was hurt and wanted to hide in a corner and cry. But I was tired of crying and felt like I needed to stay strong for the others. Kirstie could pretty much handle herself; Kevin could, without a doubt—he was clearly all of our rocks. I didn't know how much longer Avi could hold out. His family being here was undoubtedly strengthening him. But my Mitchie was broken. Broken. By the sheer grace of God (and Kevin and Smith and Jav, and an unexpected positive side effect of bulimia), Mitch was alive and unhurt. Alive, but scared to death—and now would be living in fear for the rest of his life. I would be too, the image of my best friend nestled in the arms of a crazed gunman who wanted to keep me and Kirstie at bay, ready to drive a bullet through sweet, kind, giving, sassy, loving Mitch's brain in order to kill Tim. I love Tim, honest to God, I did; I love all of Home Free. I love my own group wholeheartedly. I would sacrifice myself in a heartbeat if it meant saving Mitch. I'd do anything for Mitch. I'd have pulled a Rob for either him or Kirstie. Or Kevin and Avi. It'd shocked the ever-living fuck out of me when Kevin pounced. God, I love Kevin. I love them all. And for all the love I give, I'm getting no information when I need it. Fuck the system. Fuck Linda and Eli. Fuck it all. I needed information and I was in the goddamn dark. Barely holding it all together, Mr. Unreligious Me stood up and stepped into the chapel after Home Free left to talk to the doctors. I spent several minutes begging to God to use save Rob's life. Strike me down instead; I don't care. I'm not married and I have no children. Rob was and did. Rob needed to live. When I opened my eyes I was surprised to see Mitch right next to me. He leaned into me as he issued his own prayers. I turned my head and kissed his cheek, thanking sweet God he was still with me, the living breathing best friend I love so dearly. I was also shocked that Kirstie was just on his other side, holding his priorly-injured hand in her own, holding it over her heart as she prayed. She's about as unreligious as I am. I was not surprised Kevin was next to her, praying for what had to be the three hundredth time. Avi was on his left, praying to... well, technically, guess it's the same God we believe in. Being Jewish, he just didn't believe that Jesus was the Messiah was all. One devout Christian, three undevout Christians, and one Jew, all praying together in a chapel, united in our plight, our plea, for Rob to survive against all odds.