Time After Time

Only Terror

The morning flew in quickly for Mitch, and he found himself waking at just after eight. He could remember glimpses of a nightmare that he longed to forget, a nightmare that terrified him. Sighing, he glanced over at Scott, who was still asleep. He turned over to face the baritone and shifted closer, being careful not to wake the older man. As he moved closer, he noticed the tearstain the blonde's cheeks, and had to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from gasping. He hated knowing that someone as wonderful and talented and beautiful could have cried themselves to sleep. Mitch allowed himself to wonder what could have caused Scott's tears but regretted it instantly. The only flaw that Scott had was Mitch, so therefore it was the countertenor's fault. He fought back against his mind, blocking out as many of his thoughts as he possibly could, and sat up, deciding to go and get some coffee. He took a quick shower, washing off the layers of dirt he'd acquired from the previous day's cleaning session and threw on a t-shirt and jeans before making a grab for some boots. After giving his outfit a once over, he fixed his hair, grabbed his phone and his wallet.

It was usually a quick walk, but Mitch decided to walk at a pace similar to that of a snail, giving him time to allow the fresh air to clear his head. Outside, away from all of his problems, he felt rejuvenated and untouchable as he retreated in to the relaxed side of his brain, which, just lately had been growing smaller, crushed by paranoia and self-hatred. At that moment, however, the sadness could not find him. He was surrounded by potential threats that could not hurt him. He was in a place where nothing mattered. He was lost in his head, lost in a fairy tale fantasy and he loved it. Dipping back into reality, Mitch realized that he was approaching Starbucks, and allowed his walking pace to quicken. After a ten minute wait, he left the coffee shop with two coffees, and tried to keep himself mentally present. He kept drifting, his head flying upwards towards the clouds, but he forced himself to remain aware of his surroundings. That was his main tactic back in high school, and he was terrified to rely so heavily on his imagination again - the last time he'd allowed himself to float away like a stray balloon, his fantasy life had almost consumed him completely. He couldn't allow himself to be lost like that.

When he arrived back at the apartment, he went straight into the bedroom, and tiptoed over to his side of the room. He set both coffees on his nightstand and sat cross-legged on the bed after rearranging the pillows so that he could sit more comfortably. His blonde boyfriend was still asleep, so Mitch pulled out his phone and sent a text to Kirstie that read ‘Scott's been crying. Any idea what could be wrong?' and tossed his phone from palm to palm as he waited for a reply. Ten minutes later, after he'd swallowed over half of his coffee, he rose from the bed and crept outside of the bedroom. Quietly closing the door behind him, he called his long haired friend, who answered surprisingly quickly.

"Mitch," Kirstie began, "you didn't call yesterday. Did you talk to him?" Mitch frowned, trying to work out what she meant. 

"Talk to-" he started, but then swiftly realized what the woman was asking, "I did and it's great, but..."

"Wait - So are you together now?" Kirstie questioned, curiosity filling her voice.

"Yeah, but he's sad," Mitch sighed, "I don't know what I've done wrong," his voice had quietened to a mere whisper.

"It's not your fault, okay? Look, Jeremy's here right now, so I can't come over, but I'll be there this afternoon if you still need me." 

"O-okay," the countertenor murmured.

"Call Ester or Avi or someone if you need someone, okay? But don't pretend to be stronger than you are, honey," she said, keeping a soothing tone to her voice, "I'll talk you later, okay? But stay strong - I don't like seeing you so miserable."

"Bye, then, Kirst," Mitch muttered, exhaling deeply as he hung up. That had been the most pointless conversation he'd had in a while. He turned around and was about to walk towards the bedroom door when it opened, and Scott appeared, still half asleep.

"I wondered where you were," the blonde said, his speech slightly slurred from sleep.

"I got you coffee... I don't know if you saw," Mitch responded, faking a small smile. He watched Scott smile back in response and he knew. He knew that Scott had forced that smile - his blue eyes showed pain and fear. No, more than that. It was pure terror. Mitch couldn't understand, couldn't comprehend. What was wrong with the baritone? Why was Scott so afraid?