Time After Time

Facing It

Mitch left the room, insults flying through his head. He was such an idiot. He was almost certain that Scott had probably noticed the lack of food that the brunette had eaten. Sighing, he placed the tray on the counter headed out into the living room. He smiled at the Sphynx cat that was curled up on the couch, and sat down beside him.

“I’ve fucked up again, Wyatt,” the countertenor whispered, but the cat did not stir. Mitch couldn’t understand what he was supposed to do in these situations. If he didn’t eat, Scott would worry, making Mitch a bad boyfriend. If he did eat, Scott wouldn’t want him because he would be too fat. If he didn’t do nice things, such as bringing Scott breakfast in bed, then Mitch would be a bad boyfriend. There was no way that he could win. It was an impossible battle that the countertenor would lose every single time and he hated it. He just wanted to be loved by Scott in the same way that he loved him. But Scott was a man and men get bored of their little fuck toys incredibly quickly. Mitch knew that he’d have to put out within the next week to keep the blonde interested, but he was willing to if it meant he could remain with Scott. He’d happily throw himself under a train to save the baritone’s life. Scott was the only reason he was still alive, and so he had to appreciate the other man and give in to each and every one of his desires, no matter how he felt about it.

Wanting to block out his thoughts, Mitch made a grab for the television remote, and turned on the machine. A familiar yellow laughing shape filled the screen, alone with the square’s adorably stupid star shaped pink friend, and the brunette found that he was almost instantly distracted. He reached out and petted the small cat that was sleeping beside him, which caused the hairless cat to shift, and then stretch. Wyatt looked up at one of his owners with a glare that appeared to be a warning, and then settled down again.

“Someone’s in a bad mood today,” Mitch muttered, swinging his feet up onto the couch. He pulled his phone from his pocket and decided to arrange that meeting with the rest of Pentatonix that he and Scott had discussed earlier. As he scrolled through his contacts, he smiled when he reached Kirstie’s name, and then pressed call.

“Hey, Kirstie.”

“Hey, Mitch. How’re you doing today?”

“Better, I think, thanks. But really, I just wanted to ask if you’re free later, or whenever, really,” Mitch said, beginning to ramble. He’d somehow forgotten about the last phone call that the pair had had together.

“I think I’m free later... Why?”

“Are Avi and Kevin free?”

“Are you going to tell them already?” Kirstie asked, a mischievous tone running through her pretty voice. Mitch chuckled slightly.

“We’re not sure, really, but we haven’t seen the guys for almost two weeks, so we figured it was about time we graced them with our presence again,” Mitch smiled, fiddling with his hair.

“Aren’t they lucky?” Kirstie laughed, “Do you want to check if they’re free, or should I?”

“I don’t mind. I can che-“

“Rhetorical question, honey. You’d probably invite them to your house to watch SpongeBob, or something,” Kirstie laughed. Mitch looked up at the TV in front of him and blushed, his cheeks turning a bright crimson. He was glad that the long haired couldn’t see the television screen.

“SpongeBob’s a great show!” Mitch protested, which only caused his friend to laugh louder.

“It is, but you and that boyfriend of yours are way too obsessed,” Kirstie grinned, her laughter beginning to slow.

“So, Miss Maldonado, what do you propose we do tonight, if watching SpongeBob isn’t allowed?” Kirstie was laughing hysterically once again. Mitch frowned at his phone for a few seconds before he realized exactly why his friend was laughing, “Kirstie! You know we have to keep it PG-13!” he managed as he began to giggle.

“I think you should be saving those sorts of activities for Scott, eh?” Kirstie smirked. Mitch could imagine her winking as she said her words.

“I have every intention of doing just that.”

“Just doing Scott, eh?” the small woman chuckled. Mitch rolled his eyes.

“Maybe we could meet in a restaurant or something?” he suggested, awkwardly trying to change the subject.

“What do y- Oh! Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. I should probably check if the guys are free, then. I’ll text you to tell you if it’s happening,” she told the countertenor. The two friends said their goodbyes and ended the phone call. Mitch let out a deep breath and tossed the phone to his side. A cry of pain filled the room, and the next thing the brunette knew, he had a very angry looking cat standing on him, staring up into his eyes. If looks could kill, Mitch would definitely be dead. He reached out a hand to pet the cat, who purred as soon as he felt the countertenor’s contact. Mitch shook his head with amusement as Wyatt settled himself down on the brunette’s legs.

Switching his attention back to the screen in front of him, he laughed at Patrick’s stupidity as he waited for Kirstie to respond. Sometime during the wait, he’d fallen back into his dark thoughts again, dreaming of being left alone in the pouring rain, tear-soaked and rain drenched. He felt tears burn in his eyes as the nightmare-like thoughts spiralled out of control. He couldn’t let that happen – he’d never recover if Scott abandoned him. Scott’s fear-filled eyes began to plague Mitch’s thoughts. What if Scott wanted to break up with the brunette, but was refusing to because he didn’t want to hurt him? What if Mitch was making Scott unhappy? Mitch couldn’t bear to break up with him himself, however, so he knew that there was only one possible option for him: he had to put in more effort. He had to put all his effort into being the perfect boyfriend.

His phone kidnapped him from the trap of his negative thoughts, swiftly snatching him from the hell that was his head. He read the text and was glad to see that his friends were not busy that night, and so would be joining them at a restaurant. Mitch’s smile then fell from his face. A restaurant. That meant food. Fuck. Mitch was screwed.