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Chapter Text

Mitch Mueller was well and truly fucked.

The silence was loud as the latest wannabe punk drummer finished deafening the members of Killjoy. Apparently, if you hit the drums hard enough that’s all you need to qualify you as good to join a punk band. The rest of the band turned to Mitch, who only scowled and slouched further into his chair.

Javier turned a pained smile, more grimace than anything, to the culprit of their hearing loss, “Thank you, we’ll be in touch.”

The guy didn’t even say anything. Clearly he thought that made him seem much cooler. Whatever illusion he thought he created quickly evaporated as he tripped over the mess of wires surrounding the drums. Scratch then almost fell out of her chair, cackling, as whatever-his-name tried to walk out with some semblance of dignity.

After the poor guy left, Cliff leaned back. “Well, that guy couldn’t make a hill of beans if I put him in front of it.”

“What?”

“At least he made it worth it with his performance at the end.” Scratch cackled and maneuvered herself in such a way that her feet were now resting on Mitch’s shoulder.

Javier leaned forward in his chair and sighed, “maybe keeping Cliff on as our drummer isn’t such a bad idea.”

“Cliff sucks ass and you know it,” Mitch snapped. His entire hand was losing color with how hard he was gripping his arm rest.

Cliff, knowing that he can’t stay on beat to save his life, simply nodded.

Mitch was pissed. He worked hard to make this band into what it was and all he had to show for it were some broken lawn chairs in Cliff’s parents garage. It was the only place they could practice, as unprofessional as it felt to hold drummer auditions there. The one guy who came clearly had never touched a drum set in his life. Did no one have respect for music anymore? And, god, were Scratch’s toes out? On his shoulder? He didn’t even notice that the nasty gremlin’s bare feet were on his shoulder.

“Fuck this,” Mitch growled, interrupting whatever conversation had been going on. He shoved the offending feet off his shoulder, “Gimme yer keys, Scratch.”

She tossed them to Mitch and yelled to his retreating back, “if you’re gonna start angry driving my car, at least pick me up some caffeine!”

“Ya don’t need any more energy, ya jittery bitch!”

—————————

In the end, Scratch would get her caffeine.

Mitch didn’t know where else to go. Speeding down back roads didn’t have the same effect when it was a lazy Sunday afternoon and there were no other drivers around to piss off. So, he went to the closest coffee shop he could find. It was one of those hipster-y shitholes full of snobs who thought themselves so much better than everyone else because they don’t drink Starbucks. At least the coffee here was cheaper than Starbucks.

After he ordered the way-too-complicated and way-too-sugary coffee, Mitch attempted to casually survey his surroundings while taking up the least space possible. A difficult feat when you’re almost six and a half feet tall and reeking of cigarettes and crushed dreams. But during this study in self loathing, movement caught Mitch’s eye. Two different colored highlighters were flying across the edge of a table like drumsticks. And to Mitch’s fairly well trained ears, it seemed like the owner of the highlighters knew what they were doing. He glanced down to the (hopefully legit) drummer's backpack and glimpsed actual drumsticks peaking out.

So, without so much as sparing a look at the owner of said drumsticks, Mitch plopped himself in the chair across from the drummer. Mitch watched as those highlighters slowed their tapping.

“Uhhhh…”

Mitch’s head shot up to finally meet the guy’s eyes and shit, why did no one warn him that this guy was one of the most attractive people he’d ever seen? Now that he wasn’t bent over a book, his curly black hair fell away from his eyes, and the glasses really should have made him look like a loser nerd but was somehow even more endearing. And good god did those freckles ever end? There were more of them than stars in the sky and Mitch suddenly had the urge to kiss every single damn one of them.

“Can I… Can I help you?” The drummer, and new star of Mitch’s wet dreams for the foreseeable future, spoke slowly. His brows were furrowed, creating a wrinkle between them that Mitch just wanted to reach over and smooth out and–

“Yer a drummer.” Not exactly the way Mitch would’ve liked to start the conversation but at least he got his point across.

“What?” Oh no. The wrinkle was getting worse, not better.

“Yer a drummer,” Mitch repeated slowly.

“Ok…?” The drummer’s eyes scanned his face and then glanced at the door. “And you are?”

This, Mitch could answer. He put on his most charming smile and declared, “Mitch Mueller. Lead singer of Killjoy, and we need a drummer.”

The tension in his body was still firmly in place, but he didn’t seem too scared. He narrowed his eyes and snapped, “do you always accost random students in coffee shops to advertise that?”

Ok, so the cute drummer had an attitude. “I don’t know what that means but it won’t cost you nothing, Spots.”

Clearly, Mitch was handling this well because the guy somehow looked even more confused. “Spots?” He questioned.

“Yeah, cause a’ all the freckles on yer face.” And then, for good measure, he added, “it’s not like you’ve given me yer name yet.”

On the subject of his name, Spots stayed silent. But he did reply, “you don’t even know if I can play the drums.” Mitch just raised his eyebrows and pointed to the sticks in his backpack. “Ok, fine. But you don’t even know if I’m any good,” Spots relented.

“That’s why I’m tellin’ ya to audition.”

“Actually you haven’t said anything like that.”

“Well I’m tellin’ ya now, aren’t I?”

Spots groaned and put his head in his hands. Somehow, the guy got even more cute when Mitch was pushing his buttons. Plus, this way Mitch could stare without being caught. His textbook was hard to read upside down, but there was a drawing of a whale with what looked like its skeleton right next to it.

Spots sighed and propped his chin on his hand, causing Mitch to pause in his tracing of the skeleton. “I don’t…” Spots started, “I don’t play in front of people.”

That’s not a no. Mitch could work with that. “You got stage fright? I can work with that. Why don’t you come play with us, just once, to try it out, huh?”

“No.”

Mitch could not work with that.

“Come on, Spots. You could be missin’ out on a chance of yer life. We could be the next big punk band.”

“Or,” Spots pointed the pink highlighter at him accusingly, “You could stay a bunch of guys messing around on instruments in your mom’s basement for the rest of your life.”

Mitch put both hands to his heart and stuck his bottom lip out as far as it could go. “You hurt me, Spots.”

Spots looked like he was fighting a smile and losing. Success.

Though whatever flirty moment Mitch thought he had was ripped away from him when a barista called out, “Iced caramel macchiato with 4 shots of espresso and extra caramel for Mitch!”

Spots brows raised almost to his hairline at that. Mitch was ready to curse Scratch for her sugar and caffeine addiction. “You should go get your coffee,” Spots said, “I have to get back to my homework.”

Was that a hint of regret in his tone? Mitch was never very good at reading people, and his embarrassment at such a girly coffee order overrode almost every other brain function. All he could force himself to do was nod and run as calmly as possible to get Scratch’s drink.

Chapter Text

“You’re home later than usual”

Jonas threw his backpack on the ground next to the door and made his way over to the couch where his sister was scrolling on her phone. He slumped down on the other end of the small couch and signed. “Yeah, I was… I was distracted. Took me a while to finish my work.”

This caused Sidney to look up from her phone. She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t get distracted. Not when it comes to your homework.” She poked his leg with her toe. “Something wrong?”

“No.” He paused, trying to figure out the right way to tell her what happened without her freaking out. “Some guy came up to me while I was studying and–”

Sidney shot up in her seat. “What did he say? He better not have done anything to you, or I swear to God–”

“Jeez, Sid. Let me finish” He shot her an exasperated look.

“What? I’m not going to apologize for defending my baby brother,” She crossed her arms.

“You’re barely two minutes older than me,” Jonas deadpanned.

“Whatever. Just tell me what he said.”

So, Jonas told his sister about the intimidating guy who sat himself down at his table and demanded that Jonas audition to be a drummer in his punk band. What he didn’t include was that, while Mitch was terrifying and Jonas was close to peeing himself the whole time, he was somewhat disappointed when Mitch’s coffee order was called. He found himself enjoying their banter, as brief as it was. It was the most delightfully unexpected thing to happen to him all week. Heck, probably in his whole life. I mean, who would look at Jonas and think: I need him to be a drummer in our punk band. Jonas, who had always had his life planned out. Who did everything in his power to get himself to college on a full ride and out of Sellwood.

“What did he say the name of the band was?” Sidney asked after Jonas finished telling the story.

“Uh, Killjoy, I think.” He ran a hand through his curls. “But he could’ve just been making that up. Even if he was in a band, I’m sure it's not a real band if they want–”

“Found it!” Sidney held up her phone triumphantly.

“What? Really?” Jonas scrambled over to her side of the couch. “They’re actually a band? Let me see.”

Sidney pulled her phone out of his reach and pushed his face away. “Calm down, Jojo. I just found some YouTube videos.” She clicked on a few things and adjusted herself so they could both see the screen. “Is that your guy?”

“Yeah…” Jonas stared, “that’s him.”

It was weird to see him on screen. It proved that Mitch had been real and not a figment of his overactive imagination. He seemed more angry and tense, like he was psyching himself up for the performance. The song started, and Jonas had to admit that they sounded pretty good. Except…

“I… I thought you said they needed a drummer.” Sid said slowly.

“Maybe this guy dropped out? Maybe they had a falling out or something.” Jonas supplied.

Sidney snorted, “Or they dropped him because he sucks.”

“Sid ney !”

“What? You know I’m right.”

“He’s not… terrible. He just needs some practice.” Jonas didn’t know why he felt the need to defend the band. It's not like he’s a part of it. It’s not like he wants to be a part of it. 

“You could drum this guy out of the building.” Sidney shot back.

“That’s… that’s not a phrase.” 

“Whatever. He sucks and you could do much better.” She stood up and stretched her arms over her head. “I’m hungry, you want Thai?”

Jonas sighed and flopped his head back on the couch. “Sure.”

—————————

It was Thursday, which meant that it was one of two days a week that Jonas allowed himself to study at the coffee shop. While his research in Dr. Cooper’s marine biology lab gave him a small stipend, he couldn’t afford to waste it on his coffee addiction. So, he made a rule. Coffee on Thursdays, when his last class ended at 2:30pm and he had a big chunk of time to work on homework, and Sundays, the day he scrambled to get the rest done before Monday.

And so it went every week since his second year of university. His friends would occasionally join him, but after two years, they found their own places to study or classes got in the way. That was alright. Jonas didn’t mind studying alone. 

As he approached the coffee shop, he slowed his skateboard and flipped it up to grab it. Then, like every Thursday, he walked up to the counter to order his coffee. It was one of the few baristas that worked there every Thursday this semester.

The barista was handing back his card when she looked over her shoulder and her eyes widened. Jonas was about to ask her what was wrong when suddenly, he heard a voice shout, “Spots!”

He grabbed the card quickly and turned around, feeling his face heat up. It felt like the whole coffee shop turned to look with him. 

And there was Mitch Mueller. He was prowling over with his hands shoved into his pockets with a manic grin on his face. It was like he couldn’t decide if he should come off as friendly or terrifying. It certainly came off as a little unsettling to Jonas. 

“Fancy yer here,” Mitch said as he stopped in front of Jonas. 

“I– I come here all the time,” Jonas stuttered and turned away from him to wait at the pickup counter. He was thankful that everyone went back to their own business, but he wished his blushing face would get the memo and turn back to its normal color.

That didn’t seem to deter Mitch. If anything, his grin got impossibly wider. He put himself in front of Jonas again and crossed his arms. Jonas had to stop himself from ogling his biceps from that point on. 

“So,” Mitch drawled, “have ya given any more thought to my offer?”

This guy was still on about this? Jonas thought this would just become a funny story to tell people. Hey, remember that time when some guy tried to recruit me to be a drummer in a punk band? He was still trying to figure out a way to spin it so he wouldn’t become the punchline of that joke.

“I thought I shot down that offer pretty well the last time we talked.” Jonas shot back.

“But ya’ve looked us up since then, haven’t you?” 

When Jonas looked away guiltily, Mitch punched the air and then pointed at him accusingly. “Ya did! Now ya know we’re legit.”

Jonas sighed and leaned back on his heels, “But I don’t get it. You already have a drummer.”

“Cliff? Tch.” He waved a hand, “can’t play for shit. He’s just the sub while we find a real drummer.”

“He’s not bad, just needs some practice, that’s all.” Why was Jonas defending him? Again? And to the lead singer of said band this time, not just his sister. 

Evidently, though, this was the right thing to say. Mitch lit up. “So yer sayin’ you could teach him?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Come on, Spots!” Mitch practically whined. He was a lot less intimidating when he whined. More like a toddler. A giant toddler who could easily beat Jonas up, but a toddler nonetheless. 

Jonas sighed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “Look, just tell him to watch some YouTube videos or something, I don’t know.”

But it was clear that Mitch was no longer listening. He shoved past Jonas and stalked to the register. Jonas barely got to react before he heard a barista yelp in surprise and Mitch was back brandishing a pen.

Mitch grabbed Jonas’s hand and dragged it to him. He started furiously writing on his palm until he looked up at Jonas and smiled triumphantly. 

“There.” Mitch tossed the pen onto the pickup counter and pointed at Jonas’s hand, “Meet us there and ya can teach Cliff how to play.”

Jonas’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to come up with something, anything, to say.

“Latte for Jonas!”

Both of them whipped their heads to the pickup counter. The barista held the coffee out to Jonas questioningly.

Mitch smirked. “Jonas, huh?” He started to walk away backwards. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

And with that, Mitch left the coffee shop. Jonas stared after him. He would’ve stood there all day if the barista didn’t clear her throat, breaking him out of his trance. 

Jonas tried to offer the barista a weak smile as he took his drink from her. Her lips pulled into an awkward smile back.

“Was that guy here looking for you?” She asked.

It took Jonas a moment to realize that she was talking to him. “Uh, I guess so?”

“Oh, thank god.” She practically deflated in relief. “He’s been in here every day this week asking about a guy with freckles.”

Jonas was rendered speechless for a second time that day. Though luckily, that didn’t seem to deter the barista.

“I thought it might be you,” she continued, “but I was worried he was some crazy stalker or something. I’m glad you two actually know each other.”

“Yeah…” Jonas looked down at his hand. Tmw 4pm , it read, followed by an address. He distractedly thanked her for the coffee and stumbled into the first open chair he saw. 

He couldn’t stop staring at his palm. Did that guy really think Jonas would just show up at a random location to meet a group of strangers? And to help out the drummer of a punk band, no less. Jonas signed and rubbed his eyes. He was never going to focus now.

Chapter Text

Mitch was having a bad day at work. 

It was Saturday, which meant that he worked the opening shift at the shop. He already managed to burn his hand on an engine that hadn’t quite cooled down yet and was currently running it under water. He would’ve kept working through it but his manager forced him to take a break to take care of it. 

Mitch was off his game, and he knew why. Jonas never showed up yesterday. 

It shouldn’t piss him off as much as it did. But he thought… Mitch didn’t know what he thought. They seemed to be getting along well, though Mitch was never good with people who weren’t already his friends. It’s not his fault people couldn’t take a joke.

He was just finishing wrapping up his hand when his manager walked in. Dave was one of those few people who could take a joke, though he also called Mitch out on his bullshit more times than not. “You take care of that hand?” He asked.

Mitch raised his wrapped hand in reply and Dave continued, “Car just came in. Need you to check it out.”

Dave moved out of the way as Mitch nodded and headed back out. Memory guided him to where he knew the newest customer’s car would be in the garage. He maneuvered past the other two cars being worked on with practiced ease as his mind wandered. Why didn’t Jonas show up yesterday? He racked his brain through the conversation from a few days ago, trying to figure out what went wrong. 

As he approached the car, Mitch only broke out of his thoughts by a yelp coming from the driver's side. 

Mitch’s head shot up, and without thinking, a grin broke out onto his face. His stupid heart also started speeding up. There, sitting in the driver's seat with eyes that looked like they were gonna pop out of his head, was Jonas. 

He looked down through the open window at Jonas. God, could he stop smiling? He probably looked like a maniac. And why was he happy to see this guy anyway? Jonas blew him off. He wasn’t interested in helping the band let alone talking to Mitch. 

“F–Fancy seeing you here?” Jonas’s voice cracked at the end and Mitch couldn’t stop thinking about how easy he was to tease.

He crossed his arms and raised his brows, “I work here.”

Jonas hesitated. “I thought you were in a band?”

Mitch shrugged and replied, “Day job.”

Jonas nodded stiffly and continued to stare straight ahead. Ok so he was clearly aware that what he did yesterday was shitty and must be embarrassed. That’s ok. Mitch was a professional. He wouldn’t bring up the band.

Mitch leaned down and set his elbows on the open window. “What’s yer problem?”

“My problem?”

“With the car.”

“Oh. I don’t know. It’s my sister’s car. I’m just doing her a favor,” he glanced at Mitch before quickly turning away. He pointed at his dashboard. “I think a light came on.”

“A light came on,” Mitch repeated with a smirk. “Which one?”

Jonas threw his arms up helplessly. “I don’t know! One of the ones that screams: take your car to the shop!”

Mitch barked out a laugh at that. Then, he stuck his head inside the car to take a look, and he caught a whiff of Jonas’s shampoo. He couldn’t place the smell, but it was nice. In fact, he got so close to Jonas that some of his curls brushed Mitch’s cheek. Jonas yelped again, but by then, Mitch was straightening up. It all happened in an instant, but it left Mitch feeling a little dizzy.

He cleared his throat. “It’s yer brake light. Probably just need to flush the fluid, but I’ll take a look. You can sit over there.” He pointed in the vague direction of some chairs where customers usually wait. 

He moved towards the front of the car to pop the hood as Jonas got out. Mitch tried to ignore Jonas, but it was difficult considering the waiting area was directly in his line of sight. He kept stealing glances, which made his work take twice as long.

At least Jonas didn’t seem to notice. He was in the middle of reading some book, though he was too far away for Mitch to make out the title. As he finally made his way over, he noticed what looked like a tiger on the cover.

Jonas looked up at his approach and quickly shoved the book in his bag. It was the same bag he took to the coffee shop. Mitch tried to find those drumsticks peaking out but didn’t see them. He finally looked up at Jonas when he cleared his throat.

“So what’s the problem?”

Mitch, not knowing what to do with his hands, shoved them in his pockets. What is wrong with him? He suddenly becomes this bumbling pile of uselessness when the full force of Jonas’s attention is on him. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself where he is. Work. He is a professional.

“We just need to flush yer brake fluid. Shouldn't take more than an hour.”

Jonas nodded, but he still looked nervous. “And… how much is it gonna cost?”

Mitch looked to the ceiling briefly as he estimated. He drove a pretty common car and people come in all the time with this issue, so it wasn’t too difficult to pull from his brain. “About $120. Plus tax.”

Jonas’s face paled at the number, making his freckles more pronounced. “That’s a lot of money.”

Mitch grimaced, “Cars are a lot of money.”

“Can I just… not do it?”

Mitch raised his brows, this guy really doesn’t know anything about cars. “I mean I guess, but yer ABS system has already shut down and yer brake lines will probably start corroding in a couple ‘a months.”

Jonas squeezed his eyes shut. “And that’s bad?”

“Very.”

Jonas released a breath. “God, I should’ve learned more about cars.”

It was clear Jonas was stressed about money. And while Mitch did feel sorry for him, it also gave him an idea. Screw professionalism. 

“Ok how ‘bout this.” Was Mitch really doing this? “I have a friends and family discount. That’ll take half off.”

Jonas’s eyes lit up at that. God, Mitch really was doing this. “But, that means ya gotta be my friend.” 

Jonas’s brows drew together at that. He looked ready to speak, but Mitch leaned forward and continued, “And friends help their friends when they have a shitty drummer.”

“Look I’m sorry I–”

Mitch put a hand up and cut him off, “I don’t care why ya didn’t show up.” That’s a lie, he very much cared. “But we could really use yer help.”

“How often?”

“What?”

Jonas cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “How often would I have to teach him?” He asked.

Mitch didn’t think he would actually agree, not after being so against it. “Twice a week? Just ‘til he’s decent enough.”

He took a shaky breath, “Ok.”

Mitch broke out into a grin. He couldn’t help it. “We practice Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Take yer pick. I’ll get started on yer car.”

And because he had no more reason to linger without looking like an idiot, Mitch ran back to the car and got back to work.

—————————

It was Monday, and Mitch could not stop pacing. He really should’ve confirmed with Jonas what day he was coming. Fucking hell, why did he try so hard to come off as cool and casual? That was coming to bite him in the ass now. What if he doesn’t come? He already got the discount, he doesn’t have to come. Mitch certainly would’ve bailed.

“Dude, you need to calm down.” Javier’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You said the guy was a total nerd, right? Then he’s definitely scared enough of you. He’ll show up.”

Scared? Is that really what Mitch wanted Jonas to be? Scared of him ? Sure, he knows that generally, everyone who meets him is at least a little intimidated, and he’s never minded before. In fact, he usually enjoys it. It works in his favor. 

His thoughts are broken off again, but this time by the sound of wheels on pavement. Mitch whipped around to face the driveway. “He’s here,” he breathed. 

His friends quiet their conversation and he can practically feel them turning to face Jonas. Because it is Jonas. He’s too concentrated on making the turn on his skateboard to notice his audience, but when he looks up, his eyes widen and he slows to a stop. 

He stepped off and kicks up his skateboard. “Hey,” he said looking around, “Sorry I’m late, navigating GPS wasn’t really designed for a skateboard.”

“All good, lil’ bro,” A voice behind Mitch startled him. Was he staring? He hoped he wasn’t staring. “I’m Javier, lead guitarist. Scratch over there plays bass and Cliff is our lousy drummer. You already know Mitch.”

“Yeah,” Jonas huffed out an awkward laugh, “We’ve met.”

“This kid is gonna teach me to drum?” Cliff asked incredulously. 

“Shut it, Cliff,” Mitch barked out, turning to him, “he’s better than you.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t heard ‘im play, Mitchy.” Scratch ran up to his side and eyed Jonas. “I thought you just said he was ho–” 

Mitch clamped a hand over her mouth and hugged her to his side to get her to stop fighting. Totally not suspicious at all.

Javier, ever the diplomat, walked over and asked, “Why don’t you show us what you got?”

“Show you?” Jonas’s eyes were wide and flitting over the group members.

“Yeah,” Cliff drawled and joined the group facing Jonas. “I’m not taking lessons unless I know the kid can play.” 

“Uhh,” Jonas hugged his skateboard to his chest like a shield. “I told you. I don’t play in front of people”

“Then we’ll turn around, come on!” Scratch exclaimed. When did she get free? She lunged for Jonas and grabbed his arm, dragging him towards the drumset. 

Mitch exchanged a glance with Javi, there was no saving Jonas now. The three boys made their way to the garage where Scratch was eagerly shoving Jonas into the stool behind the drums. Jonas looked up and met Mitch’s eyes. His were blown wide and terrified. Mitch tried to offer him a comforting smile but wasn’t sure he got the message across. 

Once Scratch decided Jonas was in position, she moved towards Mitch and the others. 

“Turn around, turn around, turn around!” She demanded as she manhandled each of them to face away from Jonas. She plopped down into the spinning desk chair they bought just for her, and she dramatically rolled to face the wall. “Now you can play!”

“Uhhhh.” Jonas’s voice wavered. It was silent for a long time, for so long that Mitch debated turning around and putting the poor guy out of his misery. But before he could, there was a deep breath behind him. “Ok,” Jonas said with a big breath, voice stronger now. And then he started to play.

It started out pretty basic. Just a steady beat. But Mitch could tell that it was a warmup. It slowly started to pick up, getting more complicated. Within a minute, it was sounding good, really good. Mitch had to stop himself from turning around a few times. He wanted to see what Jonas looked like when he played. Something told him that, even though he got nervous playing in front of others, Jonas was relaxed and happy when he played. Mitch wanted to know how his body moved when he played. Would his curls fall into his face? Or would they bounce around as he nodded his head?

The drumming stopped suddenly, followed by a clatter. Mitch glanced over to where Scratch had turned around to face Jonas. She clearly had been trying to sneak a look and had gotten caught. 

Mitch looked over to Jonas. The drumsticks had fallen to the floor and he seemed to have shrunken in on himself. 

“That was amazing! You're gonna get Cliff rockin’ in no time,” Scratch exclaimed as she shot over to the drums. Javier followed as Scratch continued to chatter on.

Mitch grabbed Cliff’s arm and leaned towards him. “Yer gonna be a shit student,” he murmured.

“What?” Cliff turned, hair sweeping to show his eyes just briefly.

“Yer gonna be a shit student,” Mitch repeated. “And we’ll convince Joey he needs to replace ya.”

Cliff nodded, solemn as ever, “Fine by me. We all know I’m better behind the scenes anyway.”

Mitch grinned and turned to face Jonas, “A’ight Spots, when can you start?”

Chapter Text

Jonas was gonna bash a drum over Cliff’s head. The only thing that stopped him from acting on this impulse was 1. The drum really didn’t deserve to be the subject of his rage, and 2. He couldn’t afford to fix a broken drum set.

“You’re still gripping the sticks too tight,” Jonas tried to explain as patiently as he could. “It’s forcing you to move your whole arm when you play. You should really just be moving your wrists.”

“If my grip gets any looser these sticks are gonna fly right out my hands,” Cliff growled. 

“Ok, well, let’s just try that simple beat I showed you with the metronome,” Jonas suggested. 

Cliff nodded, so Jonas opened up the metronome app he had on his phone and gestured for him to start. Cliff then started hesitantly, always a half beat early or late. Jonas signed inwardly. This was only their second week of lessons and he was losing his mind. On that first Monday Jonas showed up, the band played a few of their songs, so Jonas could figure out what he needed to teach Cliff. The only good part was that because Cliff was so bad, the percussion aspect of the songs hadn’t been fully fleshed out yet, so Jonas had some freedom in his teaching. 

With his schedule, Jonas had been showing up before band practice to help Cliff out. That usually meant that he only saw the others briefly. They always offered, but he hadn’t stuck around to watch them since that first day. He always used homework as an excuse, but the truth was that he was afraid he’d get too sucked in. Outside of marching band in high school, Jonas never played with anyone. 

A woman stormed up to the open garage door and scowled. “Cliff, if you don’t start gettin’ better at that thing, I’m gonna start shootin’ a few holes into it.”

Jonas looked between the two in alarm, but Cliff just stopped his (horrendous) playing and yelled, “Cool it, ma. I’m done.” He stood up and turned to Jonas, “I’m going inside and gettin’ a beer before the others show up. You joining?”

Jonas shook his head and watched him walk out. Cliff was nice, in his own, silent gruff way. He had started to lump Cliff in with Javier as the more harmless ones of the group. He still managed to infuriate Jonas with how he abused the poor drums and refused to listen to instructions. It’s like he didn’t want to learn. 

Leaning over, Jonas picked up the discarded drumsticks. He still had this pent up frustration, and it wasn’t fair to take it out on anyone. So, he did what he always did. He played. 

He let his mind wander as his body took over, familiar with the movements even with an unfamiliar drum set. As difficult as Cliff could be, he wasn’t the worst option for a student. Jonas knew that Scratch would have too much energy and bounce right out of the seat. It was a good thing she played bass. That way, she could still move her feet while playing. 

And Mitch… Well, Mitch wouldn’t be a bad student per say, he was just terrifying. When he turned his attention on Jonas, it was like he was seeing Jonas. Like he could get under his skin and dissect all of his weakest points. It made Jonas’s heart race just thinking about Mitch’s eyes on him. 

He didn’t realize how hard he was playing until he stopped, breathing heavily. His curls swung into his eyes as he stared down at his hands, his whole body pliant and relaxed. 

“Yer even better than ya made it seem.”

Jonas jumped, almost out of his seat, and whipped around. Mitch was leaning on the wall behind him, a smirk playing on his face. 

“Uh, you, you’re,” Jonas sat frozen in his seat, holding the drumsticks guiltily. “How long have you been standing there?”

Mitch shrugged. “Was worried you would run off before I got here. I wanted to tell you the news.”

“News?” Jonas’s panic at being caught was overridden by his curiosity. He could almost ignore the intensity of Mitch’s gaze. Nope. Now he’s thought about it. He can no longer ignore it. Oh, great. He quickly averted his eyes back to his hands. 

“Yeah, I got us a gig at a club downtown. It’s on Saturday.” 

Jonas looked back up. Mitch was practically buzzing with energy. He reminded Jonas of Scratch at that moment. “Really?” Jonas exclaimed, “That’s great!”

“Yeah, it really is.” Mitch smiled to himself before straightening, like he remembered something. “I gotta go tell Cliff, I’ll see ya there right?”

“I…” Jonas started, but Mitch was already running out of the garage.

“I’ll text ya the details!” Mitch called behind him, “Don’t be late.”

—————————

“I have a problem.”

Sidney looked over from where she leaned on the kitchen counter, shutting off her phone. “What kinda problem?” She asked. 

Jonas shuffled over from where he had emerged from his bedroom. He sighed, “You know that band I’m helping out?”

“Hard to forget.”

He crossed his arms and averted his eyes to the floor. “They have a gig tonight at 8:30. And Mitch asked me to come.”

Sidney shot up straight and exclaimed, “That’s great!” She paused, brow furrowed, “I don’t see how that’s a problem. Do you not wanna go?”

“No! I mean… I don’t know,” Jonas looked at his twin pleadingly, “Going to a club to see a punk band? That’s not…”

That’s not what? Not his scene? He likes that kind of music. Hell, as a drummer he’s learned to play it too. But he’s never looked like he’d be into that scene, so he always felt out of place. He’s never tried to go somewhere like that because Dean would’ve killed him. And now that he’s an adult? Well, the habit stuck.

“Easy,” Sid piped up, “I’ll come with.”

“What?” That’s not what he was asking. Not at all.

“Yea, but you gotta change.” She started to push him back to his room, “Just put on one of your band T’s and those black jeans. We’re leaving in thirty!”

The door slammed shut behind him, and Jonas was stuck staring at his wall for a few seconds. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to go. It’ll at least be less awkward with Sidney around. He won’t be alone during the performance. 

—————————

45 minutes later, Jonas and Sidney walked into the club. It seemed fairly crowded, but it’s not like Jonas has frequented enough clubs to know. 

They pushed through the crowd. Jonas struggled to figure out where they were going. At least Sidney seemed to understand the general direction of the stage. She pulled him along towards the back. 

“Jonas!” Javier pulled him, and subsequently his sister, towards a door. “Thank god you’re here.”

The door in question led to a backstage of some kind. Mitch was in the corner facing away from the chaos with headphones in. Javier steered the two of them in the opposite direction to Scratch, who looked like she was about to jump out of her skin.

“What’s up?” Jonas nervously looked around, relieved to be out of the crowd but suspicious. “Why is Mitch in the corner?”

“He’s in Do Not Disturb Mode.” Scratch offered. She looked over and pointed at Sidney, “Hey, Jonas! This girl looks like you!”

Jonas sighed, “Javi, Scratch, this is my twin sister Sidney.” They both waved at her enthusiastically, “What’s ‘Do Not Disturb Mode’?”

Javi glanced over to Mitch before explaining, “It’s how he gets before a performance. No one is allowed to talk to him until after he gets off the stage.”

“Seems pretty dramatic to me,” Sid mumbled. 

Jonas elbowed her in the ribs. “So why did you need me?”

Javi hesitated for just long enough that Scratch decided to jump in, “We need ya to be our drummer tonight.”

“What?” Jonas shot back. His heart started racing. Did no one ever listen to him? “I thought I told you guys I don’t play in front of people.”

“Yeah and we totally respect that, lil’ bro.” Javi walked towards him slowly with his hands up, like he was approaching a scared animal. Maybe he was. “But Cliff just called and apparently he’s sick and his mom won’t let him leave the house.”

“He’s an adult! He can leave!” Jonas shouted back. This was not good. This was really not good.

Javi laughed, “Not when she lets us use her garage to practice. You listen to Mrs. Lonnie when she tells you something.”

Sidney grabbed Jonas’s hands and spun him to face her. “You know their setlist, you’ve had to teach Cliff. You can do this. They need you, Jojo.”

“I–” Jonas looked around frantically for an escape, but all he saw were the pleading faces of Javi and Scratch. His eyes found Mitch in the corner, oblivious to all their issues. Mitch had been texting Jonas about the upcoming gig nonstop since he last saw him. Jonas knew how much it meant to Mitch. He couldn’t let it all fall apart just because Cliff was sick, right?

He took a deep breath and met his sister's eyes, “Fine, I’ll do it.”

The three of them cheered and Jonas worked hard to swallow his rising bile. He could do this. He just needed a minute to himself so he could–

“Thank god you agreed,” Javi clapped a hand on his shoulder and delivered quite possibly the worst news of his life, “because we need to get out there right now.”

“WHAT?”

“We’re runnin’ late, let’s go!” Scratch bounced as she shoved Jonas away from Sidney and towards the stage. 

“I– I can’t…” Jonas desperately whipped his head towards Sidney.

She gave her best smile, but even in all his panic he could tell that it was strained. 

Jonas couldn’t say what happened next. All he knows is that one minute he’s being dragged away from Sidney and then next he’s sitting behind a set of drums with sticks in his hands. The only thing between him and a full blown panic attack are the lights. They shined so brightly into his eyes that he couldn't see anything else. He almost didn’t want to look away for fear of seeing the crowd. 

Then, Mitch walked onto the stage, cutting into his vision, and the crowd cheered. It made his heart race. The noise was deafening and Mitch was silhouetted by the bright spotlight. He looked otherworldly. He couldn’t stop staring and it’s just his back, goddamnit. Jonas was too freaked out by this. It’s just the nerves, and distraction was good.

He almost jumped out of his seat when Mitch started singing. Thank god he’s not supposed to be playing yet.

Can't find the words to make you laugh

Could I make you happy? Is that too much to ask?

Could it make you smile if I bleed?

Jonas stared at each band member. All of their backs were turned. It reminded him of that day in the garage when Scratch turned them all around for him. He had still been terrified, but he’d slowly gotten more comfortable in the past two weeks. 

As Mitch started singing the next line, Jonas took a deep breath. He could do this. Just like the garage. 

Well, that's alright, I'd give up almost anything

He started playing, just a simple beat so far. He knew this song and had been trying to teach Cliff, but he could never stay on beat. Come to think of it, he never did master the oncoming chorus.

And I can't sleep tonight

Is it worth it just to work to stay alive?

Jonas probably stayed a bit too on the beat because, in that moment, Mitch glanced back at him. Mitch’s eyes widened and went from confusion to downright ecstatic. Jonas just grinned back and started playing harder. And if he improvised a little bit, it’s not like anyone knows.

I'll burn myself at the stake 'cause I'm not perfect ever

Could you put your fist in my face while I just bite my tongue?

I'm just another mistake, but it won't get much better

Could you put your hands on my brain and squeeze it 'til I'm dumb?

I feel so dumb!

Jonas pushed the curls out of his eyes and smiled. He couldn’t believe that he was playing with people and wasn’t having a panic attack. Mitch was turned towards Scratch and was singing the next lines with her. It allowed Jonas to focus on his profile. Jonas could tell that he was already a little sweaty, but the lights made his face shine. Maybe if he could just focus on Mitch, then he could ignore the crowd. He already felt his panic receding even more. He actually felt relaxed. 

Jonas smiled to himself, and played on. 

Chapter Text

Mitch felt like he’d drank two energy drinks on an empty stomach. He was all jittery and lightheaded, but he felt good . That was the best they had ever played. It was like having Jonas there made everyone perform better, like he was the missing piece. 

The band walked off after the final song and Mitch threw his arm around Jonas, “That was amazing, Spots!”

It was hard to tell in the dark, but Mitch could’ve sworn that he blushed. “Thanks, I… I had fun.”

Javier and Scratch walked past with their guitars and gave their congratulations to Jonas, but Mitch wasn’t paying attention to them. He was too happy. With Jonas pressed to his side he felt like he could do anything. Especially after that performance? He knew they were going to make it big. They just had to. 

Suddenly, a second Jonas ran over and pulled his Jonas away from him into a hug. The two of them started chattering excitedly while Mitch stood there dumbly. There was his Jonas, looking like the nervous, awkward nerd that Mitch knew him to be, and then there was girl Jonas, who looked more like she belonged at this type of club. 

“Sorry,” Jonas turned to him, “This is my sister, Sidney. I probably wouldn’t have gone up there if it wasn’t for her.”

Mitch stuck his hand out hesitantly, people tend to shake hands when they first meet, right? God, why was he so nervous? Fucking pull yourself together, Mitch. “I’m Mitch, nice to meet ya.”

She raised a brow and looked down at his outstretched hand. Ok so not the right choice. She eventually took his hand, after Jonas elbowed her in the ribs, and shook it. “Likewise.”

He wasn’t sure if she actually did think it was nice to meet him. It was hard to tell by her expression and general attitude. He was leaning towards no, though. 

“Whadya think of the show?” Mitch shoved his hands in his pockets now that they were no longer of any use. Jonas was standing across from him and with his sister so it's not like he could throw his arm around him again. 

She shrugged, “You got Jonas playing in front of people. That was pretty cool.”

MItch lit up at that. Sure, she avoided giving her thoughts on the actual performance, but now they were talking about Joey. And that was a topic he could get behind. 

“Yea! He was amazing!” Mitch beamed, “Everyone will be callin’ us for gigs now that we got him on our team.”

“Uhhh, Mitch, I’m not…” Jonas stammered out.

Sidney looked down at her phone. “Oh look. I’m getting a phone call. I should take this.” Her screen was very clearly off but she still held it up to her ear and walked away. 

Now Mitch was confused. Had Jonas not chosen to surprise him by joining their band on stage? Now that he thought more about it, that seemed pretty unlikely for Spots, but why else would he have done that?

Jonas turned from where he was gaping at Sidney’s retreating form. He looked nervous.

“I… I only went on because Cliff is stuck sick at home. Scratch and Javi didn’t want to disturb you before going on, otherwise they would’ve told you.”

“Oh…” Mitch was… Mitch was ok with that. He should’ve seen it coming honestly. Of course he wasn’t planning on joining. Why would he? He never stayed to watch them practice after helping Cliff out, let alone talk to them. In fact, Mitch was sure that this was one of the longest conversations they had had. That thought alone put him in a worse mood.

“It’s not you guys!” Jonas rushed to say, then cringed. “God, that sounded stupid. It’s just, I get way too nervous playing in front of people and I freeze. You don’t want that in your band.”

Now Mitch was angry. How could he even pretend to claim that was the reason after the performance they had. “You certainly weren’t doin’ any fuckin’ freezin’ tonight.”

“It was the adrenaline! I knew you needed me. It’s not normally like that.”

“Well I still need ya!”

Jonas looked taken aback, eyes wide.

Mitch tried to explain, his voice still heavy with anger but quickly being taken over by panic, “The band needs ya. We aren’t half as great without you. You know that.”

“I– I can’t, Mitch. I’m sorry.”

Jonas turned away and walked towards his sister. Mitch could do little more than stare at his retreating back as they left the club through a back door. 

He noticed Javi and Scratch approaching cautiously. He was seething and must’ve looked like it, based on their reactions. Javier opened his mouth to explain, but Mitch just snarled and shoved passed them, making sure to get a good hit in with his shoulder. He didn’t want their sympathy or explanations. He just wanted to get out of there. 

—————————

For once, Jonas didn’t go to the coffee shop on Sunday. He was hibernating in bed late into the afternoon. He told himself that he was just tired from a late night out. 

Sidney burst through the door to his room without bothering to knock. Jonas, who was used to this by now, didn’t even lift his head. She walked over, snatched his phone from his hands, and plopped down on the bed next to him. 

He grumbled and scooted over. “What do you want?” He mumbled.

She didn’t respond, just kept tapping away at his phone. Grumbling, Jonas just shoved his face in his pillow and closed his eyes. He didn’t get to do that for long though, because his sister decided to start tapping his shoulder incessantly. 

“What?” Jonas whined, shifting to face her. 

She shoved his phone into his face, “Someone posted you guys on YouTube.”

That got his attention. “What? Let me see.” He sat up and grabbed the phone from her, angling it so they could both see. 

Sidney was right. Granted, the video quality was pretty bad and the person behind the camera was moving too much, but it was definitely them from last night. Mitch had his “Mcfuck off” T-shirt on and those same worn sneakers he always wears. He looked different when he was performing in front of an audience, and this view was certainly better than the one Jonas had last night. 

“Look, there’s you.” Sid pointed to a spot on the screen, breaking Jonas’s concentration on the rest of the band. 

Sure enough, there he was. At this angle, he was between Mitch and Javier, but still far enough back that it was hard to make out his features. Jonas thought he looked happy though, and in a way that Jonas hadn’t felt in a long time. He had a big grin on his face and was practically bouncing out of his seat. How could that be him? Yeah, drumming had always basically been his therapy, but he always likened it more to a workout. It was a great way to release energy and he always felt relaxed and a little out of breath after. He’d never looked like that while drumming. 

Sidney voiced what he was thinking, “I haven’t seen you that happy in a while.”

Jonas didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say to that. She wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t stop the fact that he’d frozen every other time he’d had to play in front of people. This had just been a fluke. The adrenaline of being needed in the moment and seeing no way out. He couldn’t replicate that. He would just disappoint them.

“Just…” Sid trailed off. It was clear she wanted to keep talking about the band without scaring Jonas away. “Just don’t make any decisions right now, okay?”

Jonas nodded silently and took his phone, curling away from her. Sidney sighed and got off the bed. He heard the door open and shut, but he wasn’t paying much attention. He replayed the video and let the music wash over him. He had to admit, they sounded good together. But that didn’t change the fact that he was terrified to play in front of people under normal circumstances. He would probably freeze and fuck everything up the next time her got on stage. This was better for everyone in the long run. 

He sighed and restarted the video, letting the music wash over him.

Chapter Text

It was Wednesday, and Jonas was on his way to help Cliff practice. He was still feeling weird about everything by Monday, so he texted Cliff and bailed. But now, he was even more nervous. Scratch and Javi knew his performance was a temporary solution. But Mitch? He looked pissed when he found out Jonas wasn’t joining them. 

Surely they would learn to work with Cliff now that he’s slowly improving. He was there first and he was their friend. Why would they want Jonas then?

As he got to the garage, he flipped up his skateboard and started walking up the driveway. Mitch, Javier, and Scratch were out on the grass, enjoying the unusually warm winter day. Though, it wasn’t like southern California got very cold. It looked like they were arguing over song lyrics. 

Scratch and Javi waved as Jonas walked by. Mitch just glanced up before pointedly ignoring him and lighting a cigarette. It was expected–Mitch seemed like the type to hold a grudge–but it still stung. 

He tried to brush off the interaction and joined Cliff at the drum set. His face was pinched in concentration while he played a simple beat in time with the metronome. He really was improving. Not at the rate Jonas hoped, but every little thing matters. 

“That was really good!” Jonas exclaimed once Cliff finished.

Cliff brushed his hair away, only for it to swing back in place. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he said sarcastically.

“No, I’m serious,” Jonas insisted, “You really are improving.”

“I reckon a five year old could do this.”

“I reckon not.”

Cliff huffed out a laugh, “Ok, six.”

Jonas pretended to consider it for a moment then said, “Probably.”

This got a real laugh out of him, enough to get the other three’s attention. Jonas glanced over in time to see Mitch storm away with his cigarette in hand. The other two just waved, unperturbed by Mitch's moodiness. He must’ve disagreed with them on something. Jonas didn’t want to consider the alternative. 

Cliff sighed, “It’s no use, I’ve got no sense a’ beat and that ain’t got the makings of a drummer.”

Jonas tried to come up with something to say, something encouraging. But nothing came out. He wasn’t built for this. Jonas had been doing this when he was five. Clearly he wasn’t cut out for teaching. What was he thinking?

“It’s good, lil’ bro. We all know he sucks.” Javi and Scratch approached the two of them from behind. Mitch was nowhere in sight. 

“But he can improve,” Jonas scrambled to say. “Don’t you want him to? All your friends in a band together just like you dreamed?”

“This sure as hell ain’t my dream.” Cliff’s response startled Jonas. “I hate playing the drums, even worse now that I gotta learn.”

“But–,” Jonas was lost now, “I thought this is what you all wanted.”

“We want you playin’ with us. Not this hillbilly,” Scratch shoved at Cliff’s head when she said this and continued, “but you got that issue with playin’ in front of people and we gotta respect that.”

“You’re our friend too, lil’ bro.” Javier’s voice got quiet, like he understood what that meant to Jonas. Suddenly everything was too much.

“Besides,” Cliff interjected before Jonas could panic too much, “I’d much rather just be band manager. I’m better at that.”

“You’re the band manager?” Jonas asked incredulously.

Javi laughed, “Ya wouldn’t know it by lookin’ at him, but man’s good with that kinda stuff.”

This was… not what Jonas was expecting. He had a story in his head for these guys and it wasn’t playing out how he thought it would. And now he’s learning that they want to drag him into the story, too? He’d always assumed that Cliff wanted to be in the band. He’d never stopped to consider otherwise. 

“I– I have to go.” Jonas pretended to look at his phone, racking his head for an excuse. “I forgot to do something in lab, and it– it’s time sensitive.”

He didn’t wait for their responses. He just turned and left. 

—————————

Mitch never put much weight in hope. Hell, he’d rarely felt it in his life. But when Jonas fled on Wednesday, and Javi explained their conversation, he felt it flickering, like a lighter’s flame in the wind. 

It was Saturday now, and Mitch desperately hoped that Jonas would show up for practice on Monday. He didn’t show up on Friday, but Mitch reasoned that he must’ve been busy, because he rarely shows up on Fridays. 

A small part of him had this grandiose idea that Jonas would show up yesterday and declare how right Mitch was and how much he wanted to join the band. He might’ve even sent Mitch some flirty eyes in that fantasy. That idea, however, was stupid. 

Mitch tried to remind himself of all the reasons why that fantasy was a load of bull while taking his aggression out on some poor car’s engine. Jonas didn’t want to join the band. He left them. 

Ok that might be a little dramatic. Especially considering he did show up on Wednesday to help Cliff practice. On the other hand, they didn’t do much practicing. From what Mitch could see, they were just joking around and getting all chummy. Then, by the time Mitch came back from his smoke break, he was gone. Without a goodbye. There’s no way they got any practicing done. 

“Mitch!” His boss Dave called out.

He took his head out from under the hood and turned to the guy, “Yeah?”

“Some kid’s here looking for ya out front.”

Mitch nodded and brushed past, but inside, he was confused. Who the hell would come see him at work on a weekend? Scratch? Even with her tattoos and bright green hair, she’d definitely be the type Dave would call a kid. Who was he kidding? That guy was so old he called everyone a kid. 

When Mitch got to the front of the building, he felt that stupid little flicker of hope again. “Spots?” He called out.

Jonas turned around, eyes wide. He looked more nervous than Mitch had ever seen him. Mitch turned towards Dave, who was at the front desk looking between the two with a raised brow. “I’m taking lunch,” he said curtly before walking out, hoping Jonas would follow. 

He walked over to the little patch of grass behind the parking lot. With shade provided by the nearby oak and privacy from the road, it was an ideal spot for a smoke break, or to talk without his nosy boss around. 

“Whatdya want?” Ok, that came out much harsher than Mitch intended. But then he reminded himself that he was supposed to be mad and therefore was justified. Mad for what? He couldn’t tell you. 

“I–, uh,” Jonas stammered out, and goddamn he looked so nervous and cute and pathetic that Mitch was so close to just putting the poor guy out of his misery. He took a deep breath, “IchangedmymindIwannajointheband”

“What?” There’s no way Mitch heard that word jumble right. And yet, another flicker.

“I thought about what you said.” Jonas looked at his feet. “And I talked to the others. And my sister.”

“Aaaand?” Mitch really couldn’t take the suspense any longer. Couldn’t he just spit it out already?

“And I wanna join the band. If you’ll still have me.”

Now Mitch had to suppress a smile. He wasn’t about to be one of those losers who got crazy excited. He’d look desperate. He had to play it cool.

He pursed his lips and nodded his head, “Ok.”

That was apparently too cool. Jonas’s hopeful face dropped immediately. “But if you’ve changed your mind that’s totally fine, I mean–”

“NO! No, we want you in the band.” He threw his hands out before Jonas could walk away. Great, now he looked desperate. 

But then Jonas smiled hesitantly, and that made it all worth it. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Mitch replied curtly, trying to rein it in, “Yer good. We need good.”

“Ok, wow.” Jonas started laughing nervously, it was both adorable and concerning. “I can’t believe I’m in a band.”

“Well ya better start, Spots ‘cause this is only the beginning.” Mitch threw his arm around Jonas and steered him towards his car. “Now let’s get a celebratory lunch. I’m starvin’.”

And thus began Jonas’s adventure as the drummer of a punk rock band.

Chapter Text

Just because Jonas decided to join the band, didn’t mean that all his performance anxiety went away overnight. By Sunday, he was properly freaking out over his decision. It had felt so spur of the moment. One minute, he was lying in bed watching that damned YouTube video for the millionth time. The next, he was on his skateboard on his way to Mitch’s work. 

Now, he was desperately trying to study at his beloved coffee shop, but he couldn’t focus. He pulled out his phone.

12:32 pm

I’m freaking out.

Mitch

12:32 pm

Y

Whats wrong

Crap. He meant to send that to Sidney, not Mitch. He decided to respond anyway. Might as well take the issue directly to the source.

12:33 pm

Can’t focus on hw, I’m too busy thinking about band practice tmw.

12:35 pm

And thats bad?

Fuck hw

12:36 pm

Ha. ha. 

I’m freaking out because I still freeze when I play in front of people.

Not exactly a great trait to have when you’re trying to play with others.

12:40 pm

Where r u?

12:42 pm

The coffee shop.

Why?

Jonas stared at his phone for a few minutes, but no reply came. He pulled out his headphones and turned his attention back to his homework. He might as well try focusing again. 

He only got another 15 minutes of distracted work done before he’s interrupted. Jonas looked up to see Mitch sprawled out on the chair across from him with a shit eating grin. By now, Jonas knew that Mitch was trying to get a reaction out of him, so he decided to go for an unaffected look. He simply raised an eyebrow before turning back to his work.

Not that he’d ever focus on his work now. But he could pretend. 

He heard a scoff and suddenly his notebook was ripped out from under him. Jonas tried to hide his smile by letting out an indignant cry, “Hey!”

Mitch furrowed his brow, turning the notebook and his head at different angles trying to read it. “I think you made half these words up, Spots.”

He reached over and snatched his notebook back, “All words are made up.” 

Huh, not the best retort, but he’s not exactly working at full capacity here. 

Mitch smirked and threw the notebook on the table, “That a new hobby a’ yours?”

Jonas rolled his eyes and pulled the notebook back towards him, “What are you doing here, Mitch?”

“We’re gonna go practice. That’s what you wanted to do, right?”

“Now?”

Mitch shifted uncomfortably. He suddenly looked unsure of himself. “Yeah? That’s why you texted me.”

“I mean…” Crap, Jonas didn’t want Mitch to look like that. Especially because of him. “I was more saying that I was nervous about tomorrow’s practice.”

“Yeah,” Mitch straightened up at that. “So, practice today with just me around. As a warmup.”

Jonas paused to consider his offer. It didn’t sound like a bad idea. If he could play with one person’s focus completely on him, then surely he could play when three people are otherwise occupied with their own playing? Worst case, he makes an absolute fool of himself. But at least it would only be in front of Mitch.

Suddenly that idea doesn’t sound so appealing anymore. 

Taking a deep breath, he tried to push away all thoughts of absolute humiliation. “Okay.”

A grin broke out on Mitch’s face. “Now that’s more like it.”

He grabbed things on the table at random and began to stack them up. Loose papers stacked between his textbook and notebook instead of put away properly in his folder. Jonas just sighed and let Mitch take his backpack and stuff things inside haphazardly. He’d fix it later. 

—————————

The closer they got to Cliff’s garage, the more Mitch seemed to jitter with energy. Jonas watched him wearily, the way he might when trying to open up a soda can he knew had been shaken within an inch of its life. 

They walked up to the garage and Mitch pulled out a key to open the side door. Jonas eyed him curiously, did everyone in the band have unlimited access to Cliff’s garage? 

“Cliff gave us all our own keys so we could come and practice anytime,” Mitch explained when he saw Jonas’s questioning look. “He was tired of us all bothering him to be let in. I’ll get you one too.”

Jonas pulled his backpack straps tighter and followed him inside. “That’s not necessary. He doesn’t really know me.”

Mitch turned to face him, an incredulous look on his face, “Sure he does. You’ve spent more time with him than ya have with the rest of us.” Was that annoyance Jonas detected in his tone? Maybe Mitch was closer with Cliff than Jonas realized, and was feeling left out. He didn’t have much time to ponder that when Mitch continued, “Plus yer a part of the band now. Ya gotta have one.”

Jonas felt his cheeks heat at that and gave a small smile. He’d never been a part of anything before. Well, nothing so exclusive. He didn’t count marching band or other school activities where anyone could join. 

A moment later, he realized he’d been staring at Mitch and smiling for a bit longer than was necessarily appropriate. Though it didn’t seem that Mitch was inclined to break the silence anytime soon. 

Jonas cleared his throat and pointedly looked towards his feet. “So, what did you want to practice?”

“Uhhh…” Mitch turned to face the drums and scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe we just go through what we did at the gig? You’ve already done it, so it should be easy, right?”

Jonas let out a breath and looked back towards Mitch, “Right.”

God, he hoped that was the case. 

Grabbing his drum sticks, Jonas settled behind the drum set and took a deep breath. When he looked over, he saw Mitch picking up Scratch’s guitar. He pulled the strap over his head and began to play a few warm up chords. 

Jonas stared at him, entranced by the confident way he played even the simplest notes and tuned one of the strings. Mitch looked up and met his eyes, clearly startled by the attention.

“I didn’t know you played,” Jonas said slowly. 

“I don’t,” Mitch replied gruffly, looking down at the guitar, “Not really, anyway. But I can play enough to keep up with ya. Kinda hard to play a song with just the drums.”

Jonas narrowed his eyes but nodded along. He seemed to be more than just a competent player, but Jonas wasn’t about to claim expertise on guitars. 

“Then play on,” Jonas gestured towards him and readjusted his grip on his drum sticks. 

He started with a few chords, and Jonas recognized it from their setlist. He had another 8 counts until he joined in. Mitch picked an easy one to start with. He only had to keep a simple beat until it got progressively more complicated. 

He waited 16 beats.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mitch take a step closer. He was still playing, but instead of continuing, he repeated the first few measures of the song. Jonas was stuck staring at his hands. His knuckles were white from his grip.

Mitch repeated the sequence again. Jonas still couldn’t move. His mind went blank. Soon, the tune grated on his ears. It reminded him of that Jaws song. Always repeating, but never knowing when the shark comes. At the thought, he lets out a huff that was probably supposed to be a laugh. But still he didn’t move. 

Mitch finally stopped playing. It broke Jonas out of his trance. He looked up. 

“You stopped.”

Mitch raised his eyebrows at that, “You didn’t start.”

Jonas glanced down at his hands again. He couldn’t stand looking at Mitch when he was looking at Jonas with such pity. 

“I guess I didn’t,” He laughed weakly. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he joked, “You still want me?”

“Yes.”

Jonas’s head shot up at that. He didn’t know what he was expecting. For Mitch to joke back? For him to kick him out of the band before he’d even begun? He certainly wasn’t expecting his quick response and serious tone. There was no trace of light-hearted, joking Mitch now.  

Jonas swallowed and broke eye contact with him. Why was it getting warm all the sudden? It’s not like this garage has heating. “But I can’t play in front of anyone. I get stuck.”

Mitch furrowed his brows and leaned back on one foot. His fingers were idly strumming the guitar, but Jonas didn’t think Mitch even noticed. “But ya played amazing in front of a crowd already, and ya played in front of the whole crew weeks ago.”

Jonas sighed and grabbed at his hair, “I don’t know! I didn’t have much time to process what I was doing then, I guess.”

Mitch was quiet for a moment before he spoke up, “Then focus on something else while ya play. What were ya thinking about the last time?”

Jonas thought back to that concert. How had he been able to perform so well? If anyone asked, he blamed it on the adrenaline. Was it the lights? They’d certainly blinded him well enough in the back that he couldn’t see the crowd. All he remembered seeing was Mitch. It was only his back and honestly more of a silhouette from his angle, but that seemed to be all Jonas could see in that moment. 

Jonas felt a blush creeping up his face as his cheeks warmed. He cleared his throat, “Don’t face me when we play. I think I’ll be alright then.”

Mitch nodded and turned around. He barely gave Jonas a moment before playing the first chords of the song. 

If anyone asked, Jonas would immediately deny it, but he pulled his focus to Mitch. He admired the broad planes of his shoulders. Watching him play guitar gave him different things to study compared to the last time he did this. 

His fingers were long, and definitely a little crooked and messed up. They were scarred and callused and honestly not that clean. But Jonas thought his hand was mesmerizing as it moved through the chords. He almost wished Mitch hadn’t turned around so Jonas could admire him playing more. 

Jonas seemed to become aware of his body then, and he was pleasantly surprised to discover that he was playing. The sticks just felt like an extension of his arm, and he played as though he’d played this song a million times before.

Actually, Jonas supposed he did play it a million times before while trying to teach Cliff. 

He huffed a laugh to himself and continued to play. Once he started, it felt like he couldn’t stop. Not at least until the song was finished. He almost wished Mitch would turn around, just to prove to himself that he could keep playing. But Mitch didn’t, and Jonas had to content himself with his current view. 

And it really wasn’t a bad view. Mitch was tall, much taller than Jonas, and while he was at first intimidated by it, he found that he liked it. And who wouldn’t? Sure he was lanky, but that just meant that he had a shoulder to waist ratio of a Dorito and still somehow managed to have a nice butt. 

Wait.

Jonas’s eyes went wide and his face was on fire in seconds. Why the heck was he thinking that? That’s not a friend thought. That’s certainly not a straight thought. The more he thought about it, the more Jonas could pick out other things about Mitch that he liked. He pushed Jonas out of his comfort zone but still knew when to stop. And his smile, it was a little crooked and his teeth were nowhere near straight but it still made Jonas want to smile right back. 

Well shit. This wasn’t a good development. 

At least he could now prove that he would keep playing through panic. He trained his eyes deliberately away from Mitch as he finished the song. 

When the song was finally over, Jonas released a breath. If he was going to have crazy revelations every time he played around people, he might not be able to handle it. 

And then Mitch had to whip around, the biggest smile on his face. “That was amazing, Spots! Whatdya think about? If yer thoughts give ya performin’ super powers ya gotta share yer secret.”

Jonas stood up abruptly, a wide-eyed look on his face, and cut Mitch off mid-laugh. God, when did that horrendous, guffawing laugh become cute?

“I gotta go.”

Mitch’s face fell, “What?” He rushed to set the guitar down and was next to Jonas in a few strides. “What’s wrong?”

Jonas swallowed and took a step back. “Nothing,” he said as he reached behind him for his backpack, “I just forgot about some homework I have. It’s due tonight and my professor is super strict.”

“Oh.” Mitch reached out a hand before letting it drop back to his side. He shoved them decidedly in his front pockets when Jonas took another step away from him. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Jonas must be going crazy, because loud, boisterous Mitch suddenly seemed soft and unsure. Even if that wasn’t reality, Jonas couldn’t stand the image in his head. “Yeah,” He replied quickly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Then, with all the grace Jonas pretended to have, he hightailed it out of there.