The Story Of Us

In The Studio

I woke up the next morning. Mike and Nel had gone back to Arlington. They were going to come back up in two weeks. I found it weird that now he was sick they found more time for him but I guess that's what happens when death stares you right in the face.

I could feel Mitch's chest moving up and down in a rhythmical motion. He took shallower breaths than usual. Like his lungs were taken up by something that was blocking the air. Well they were. They were blocked by cancer.

If I could give my lungs to Mitch I would. I would do anything for him to live a full life.

I pushed Mitch's hair back out of his eyes. He looked beautiful when he slept. The truth was Mitch looked beautiful no matter what time of day, sleeping, eating, talking, singing. He was always the most beautiful person in the world.

I reached to my side and pulled my phone off the charger. I held it in front of my face, 6:30. I had to wake him up. It was time for him to take his tablets. I hated waking Mitch up. I had done it twice in the night. And both times I had to push the pills into his mouth because he was so sleepy. He had also woken another time in the night where he couldn't breath. It was still as scary as the first time. It was like watching someone being strangled. I hated seeing him in pain. But I think he is starting to learn how to control his breathing when that happens.

"Mitchy." I whispered. I peppered kisses up and down his left arm. His right arm was sore at the moment. They had stuck 100 different needles in it and it was bruised all over.

His eyes fluttered as his sleep became light. "You have to wake up, sweetie." He batted my hand away.

"I don't want to get up." His voice was barely there. So hoarse that it sounded more like air than words.

I reached over to the night stand and grabbed the bag of pills. I took out four of the bottles and poring one from each into my hand. I grabbed the bottle of water and shook it.

Mitch cracked one eye open and frowned. "C'mon Mitch. For me?" I said. I really did not want to force him to do this again. He nodded and sat up. I pored the pills into his hands and gave him the bottle. He took them one at a time. They must have tasted horrible.

He plopped his head back down onto my chest. "Now, sleep." He croaked. His arm moved up to press against my chest, fisting at my shirt.  We stayed there for a few minutes before I saw Mitch's eyes open again. "We've got Pentatonix rehearsals at half nine don't we?" He asked.

I contemplated banning him from going. I didn't want him to loose his voice. I didn't want him to get more sick. I wanted him to be confided to this bed where he couldn't get hurt. "I don't think you should go." I said. I waited for him to slap me or something.

"I'm going Scott. I'm not letting you guys down." He said. His voice raised to the loudest volume he could get to and that was barely a whisper.

"Babe, you can barely talk." I kissed his forehead and hugged him close to my body. I felt his cold hands slip under my shirt, making me shiver.

"I just need a drink and then I'll be fine." He stopped himself to cough. He took a deep breath and started to kiss my neck. It relaxed me completely as he began to gently suck on small areas. "Please, Scott. I want to go." He said against my neck, his stubble making it tickle.

"You've got the nurse coming round at eleven." I said biting down on my lip as he found the spot on my neck that made shoots of pleasure explode all over me. My body was on fire.

"We can just ask her to come to the studio." He suggested. He dragged a bit of skin out from between his making me let out a small moan. I noticed he liked doing that. It didn't matter where he was on your body he loved to take your skin between his teeth and drive you absolutely crazy.

"You promise you won't over do it. I don't want you collapsing on me." I said. He nodded smiling against my neck.

"You know what I really want?" He asked. He began to kiss down to the neck of my shirt. I shrugged my shoulders. "I want this off." He tugged at the end of my shirt.

I let out a laugh. "Not happening. Not right now." I said. I gently lifted his body off of mine and sat up. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Mitch grabbed the back of my shirt. He tried to pull me back but wasn't strong enough. I looked over my shoulder to see him cradling his arm in pain, his eyes closed tight.

I opened my mouth to speak but he chipped in before me. "It will pass." He opened his eyes and came to a standing position. "All better." He reassured me.

...

Mitch and I got in my car and I drove us to the studio. I had called the hospital earlier asking if they could come there to give Mitch his chemo. They gladly said they would, saying that they were glad that Mitch was all up for going out.

We pulled up outside the studio, ten minutes late. I walked round to Mitch's side of the car and helped him out. He grabbed onto my arm to steady himself on his feet. I could tell it hurt for him to stand but he tried so hard not to show it that I didn't mention anything.

I linked his hand with mine and led him to the door, swinging our arms back and forth. The sound of wheels on gravel was beginning to become a familiar sound. It was weird how quickly and easily the body adjusted to change.

I held the door open as Mitch went in ahead of me. We walked in to the room of people. Kevin, Avi and Kirstie were sat in a circle on the floor going through something. They all stopped when they saw us, their smiles falling from their faces.

"Hey guys!" Mitch smiled. His voice was a little better than earlier. Still hoarse though. The boys mouths dropped open as they looked at Mitch. Their features turned cold and worried. Kirstie stood and hugged Mitch. She was the only one we had told. Since she came to the hospital.

The boys only knew about the cancer, they didn't know about all the packages that came along with it, like having to carry an oxygen tank around everywhere you go and taking 104 pills a day and having to have chemo even though it won't make him better, it may just prolong his life.

Mitch carried on like normal, everyone following along because they realised that's what he wanted. He wanted things to continue as they were always and not be different. But lord knows it was going to be different.

We slowly sang along trying to demo the new song. But it turned out to be an extremely hard task for Mitch. He became out of breath quickly and his voice was scratchy, sounding more like a record player than the boy I had first met with the amazing voice. He had to sit down after half an hour, his legs beginning to hurt. I really felt for him. His posture slumped forward as he realised that this wasn't going to work.

He rested his head on his hands taking deep breaths in through his nose and out his mouth. I sat down next to him and placed my arm around his shoulder. He leaned into my touch. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

"You're fine. We just take it slow." I whispered.

"No, Scott. I'm holding you guys back. You continue on. I'll sit down for a bit. The nurse will be here in a minute anyway." So that's what we did. We continued on without Mitch and he sat and watched us. I couldn't help but glance over at him every now and then. He looked drained.

That's when I heard a knock on the door. Kirstie opened it to reveal a nurse. Same as last time, still didn't know her name. She looked past Kirstie at me and smiled. I pointed her over to Mitch.

She asked him questions in a hushed whispered. I strained to hear them over our singing. "How are you?" She asked.

"I'm alright. I guess." He sighed. She slowly injected the pipe into his hand. The liquid hung up in a bag. It was weird watching it slowly pass through him. It must of been weirder for him.

"I'll be back in three days. That's when you have the next one. Where will you be then?" She asked. Mitch told her our address and she nodded and left without another word.

Mitch relaxed back. He smiled a little now. That thing must have killed a lot of pain too because now Mitch was contributing. He would suggest things to us and tell us what to do. He looked more himself. Happy.