Lest I Forget

Mitchbox Twenty

A week had passed. A week of making friends over and over again. A week of music and discovery. A week of realizing that Mitch was falling for Scott and he didn't know why. Well, actually, he did know why. He could recite poetry on why he was falling for the tall, blue eyed blonde. Everything about him captured Mitch every single day, though he had to play it like it was their first time meeting. He couldn't stop staring at Scott's chiseled jawline and strong features, or his forehead that could stop traffic, or his hair that was as tall as a skyscraper. He couldn't stop staring at the way Scott moved on the piano, incorporating his whole being even if he were just goofing off. He admired the passion that bled through his fingers and spilled from his lips. He admired how Scott was so concerned about making friends with Mitch. Some days Mitch couldn't bring himself to understanding of why Scott would want to befriend him, but as the day went along he forgot completely because he could be himself with Scott. Mitch couldn't help but imagine how great of friends they'd be if they had met before Scott's accident... before Scott's life was a deluxe a cappella album on repeat. It was a constant beat. A constant reminder of why life was so beautiful. A constant glowing smile. A constant laugh, and the constant reminder about how Scott found Mitch's dimples adorable. All of these things piled up in Mitch's mind. On the days he didn't go into RCA and instead went to the restaurant he would realize more and more that he enjoyed being at RCA, even if his time there wasn't successful in the least. It was all worth it. Scott Hoying was worth it... but Mitch couldn't help but think he was getting in over his head.

So, he went to someone he could rely on to hear about his crazy addiction. He was honestly addicted to Scott, especially when he would riff for life and make sweet love to the piano. Everything tied together to create a burning desire to get to know Scott.

"Kappy, I'm dying." Mitch dangled his head off the couch, sitting with his legs in the air, his hair flopping down and touching the floor, all of the blood rushing to his head.

"Maybe it's because you're letting your head turn into a tomato." Avi laughed, plopping down on the chair next to him. "Are you going to try to play Mario Kart like that?"

"Yes. Don't underestimate my mad skills. I could play this shit in my sleep!" Mitch swatted for the Wii controller and continually missed, getting grumpier by the second. Avi smirked and gently pushed the coffee table back towards Mitch with his foot, allowing Mitch to reach the controller hidden in the steering wheel and to watch him quickly select Princess Peach as his player. "Pick Rainbow Road."

"That's super fruity," Avi said with a chuckle. He selected the road and they began their race, Avi most definitely kicking Mitch's ass. Mitch was flying off into different directions, losing his kart way too often. "Think you're losing becau—"

"NO. Fuck Rainbow Road. Why did you pick it?" Avi didn't respond. Sometimes his best friend was a bit crazy like that, but he honestly wouldn't have it any other way.

The boys continued playing Mario Kart, Mitch beating Avi tenfold once he finally sat up straight and let his blood recirculate. Thirty minutes of intense Mario Kart-ing led to the boys having beers and sitting on Avi's deck, enjoying the night sky. They enjoyed moments like these—moments where they could confide in each other, or just sit in silence in understanding that each other needed it. This nightly thing was something they each enjoyed. If Avi had a rough day at the Academy, Mitch could hear about it. If Mitch was tired of five dollar tippers on bills where five dollars was considered ten percent or lower, Avi would sit and listen. They agreed that venting like this would keep them calm throughout the day, and it did.

"So, I've got a major curve ball to throw your way." Mitch took a sip of his Angry Orchard and set it on the table, bringing his knees up to his chest and resting his head on his knees.