Scomiche One Shots

Pain

Nothing hurt worse than his behaviour and his actions. Scott had vanished from the face of the earth. He'd been distant and cold for a few weeks now, around five weeks altogether and even now, two weeks into the world tour, Scott was still distant and cold, as though he really just didn't want to deal with him anymore and that is, perhaps, why it happened.

Scott had begun being distant after a party he went to, in which Mitch wasn't invited. He'd stayed out until around midnight before coming home, just barely hitting tipsy. Mitch was laid out on the couch watching Spongebob Squarepants and eating a small bowl of ice-cream. As the door opened Mitch turned and smiled at his friend gently but just got a snarl in return. Mitch just turned around with a frown and continued watching his show and eating his frozen treat. "You're not eating that, right? We have the tour coming up and you wanna harm your body, not that you could put on any more weight without being hospitalised, you're putting a lot of weight on recently, Mitchell, maybe you should cut back," Scott spoke factually.

Mitch didn't look away from the television but the tears that welled up in his eyes were enough to show that he'd listened and heard his best friends words. Scott went up to his room and Mitch did the same. He left his ice cream bowl on the table, only two spoonfuls had been eaten in the first place. Mitch went through his bedroom door and straight to his bathroom where he just looked at himself. He spent hours just pointing out all his blemishes and imperfections, his hair needed changing, he looked too feminine, he was too ugly, he needed plastic surgery, he needed to lose weight and fast. He made note of everything with a tube of expired lipstick on his mirror, to ensure he'd remember what he needed to do. And with that he began, he knelt in front of the toilet bowl and forced his fingers down his throat and forced himself to regurgitate all he'd eaten that day. He sat there for around ten minutes just forcing himself to lose all his previously eaten food until he felt slightly better about himself. He passed out for the day and went to bed.

The following morning he'd gotten out of bed and went down to the kitchen with large tear tracks down his face from crying himself to sleep, grabbing his melted ice cream from the coffee table and placing it in the sink as he went past. He saw Scott already sat in the kitchen but didn't acknowledge his presence as he went and made himself a coffee. Usually, he'd have milk and sugar but he decided to keep it black, it was fewer calories. He whipped out his phone as the water heated and rang a number he'd found online.

"Hello, I'd like to sign up for a membership. Yes, thank you. My card number is 2343 5456 1287 9604 and my security number is 381. That's all you need? It'll arrive on Tuesday? Thank you." Mitch spoke calmly to his phone, Scott listening to his every word but not understanding them. As Mitch finished the call he finished making his coffee and began walking out of the room to get dressed for his day, but was stopped as he got to the door frame by Scott speaking up. He turned and leant against the frame of the door so he was at least paying attention to his best friend. "Yes, Scott?" He asked softly.

"Are you not going to finish making your coffee? What was the membership about?" Scott asked softly, looking up from his phone at his best friend. Mitch's eyes widened slightly in panic but ultimately decided to tell his friend anyways, it wasn't like he had anything to hide. He took a sip of the scalding hot coffee before speaking.

"I drink it black now, although I'm cutting back altogether within the next few weeks. It's too unhealthy. The membership is for the gym. I need to get into better shape before the tour in a few weeks and what better time to begin than the present. Now, are you finished interrogating me because I have places I need to be?" Mitch spoke softly, only just loud enough for Scott to hear him.

"You don't work out, nor do you need to, Mitchell. Having some milk and sugar in your coffee is not going to kill you, Mitchell. Plus you didn't finish your ice cream and I know you wouldn't just fall asleep without eating it. Why are you being like this?" Scott asked genuine curiosity in his tone. Mitch's eyebrow raised as he finished his coffee and went and placed his cup in the sink.