Time After Time

Raining Eyes

When Kirstie arrived back at the table alone, panting for breath with panic in her eyes, the three men climbed to their feet instantly.

“Where is he?” Scott forced out as his breathing began to quicken.

“I don’t know, he just ran off,” Kirstie sighed as she caught her breath.

“Shit...” Scott whispered as he began to completely lose control of his breathing.

“Breathe, Scott,” Kevin had an arm around the baritone’s shoulders and was rubbing his arm gently. Avi walked towards the rest of the group, unsure of what to say.

“We need to find him,” Scott said, his eyes filling with tears. Mitch was alone, and it was dark. He could get hurt, or he could hurt himself. He could die out there. The blonde choked out a sob, and, within an instant, he had his three friends making promises to him – they’d find Mitch, and they’d help to get him back. But Scott didn’t want to listen. How could they make this kind of promise? They didn’t know what Mitch was thinking, or how Mitch was feeling. And if Mitch had been confronted, he’d obviously be in an awful mood, and he was out there alone. He was alone in a place where he could easily find something to injure himself, or worse – to kill himself.

Scott didn’t want to think of that as a possibility – he couldn’t see any possible way of continuing his own life if he didn’t have Mitch – but his brain was stuck on that one scene. His brain replayed that moment five years ago – the blood and the vomit and the pills across the bathroom floor, the countertenor slumped in the middle in an unconscious heap. He remembered opening the door and he remembered how he had, at first, believed Mitch to be dead. He’d been too scared to check, too fearful of any confirmation. All he had wanted was to join the smaller man. When he had noticed the slow rise and fall of the countertenor’s chest, he’d burst into tears of relief and made a promise to protect Mitch. He’d promised that he’d never hurt him, and that he’d keep him safe. And now, Mitch was getting worse because of him. Scott was slipping down and dragging Mitch down with him. Or was it the other way around? Scott didn’t know any more – he didn’t care. He just wanted Mitch.

He continued to cry as he opened his eyes once again and studied his surroundings. He was sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the legs and back of a chair with his three friends crouched down so that they were at his level. They all shared identical looks of concern and fear, and Scott found himself to be speechless.  What could he say to them? All he could see in his head were bad scenarios, bad situations, and he felt as though he would vomit. He brought a shaking hand up to cover his mouth, just in case, and dropped his gaze as low as he could. He didn’t want to see his friends’ faces. They were scared and it was his fault.

Suddenly, a rush of anger shot through his veins and he found himself glancing up, almost pulling muscles in his neck as he did so. Why the fucking hell were they still here? Why hadn’t they left? Why weren’t they looking for Mitch?

“Go find Mitch,” he choked out. His words carried none of the venom that he had tried to inject. Instead, it was a weak and desperate plea, a pitiful and pathetic attempt to protect his boyfriend.

“We’re not leaving without you, Scott,” Kirstie’s words were stern, and Scott knew instantly that, no matter how he felt, he could not argue. Letting out a sigh as the tears still poured from his baby blues, he nodded and tried to climb to his feet. The rush of his anger left him feeling slightly lightheaded, and he stumbled forward, grabbing at thin air as he stumbled. Luckily, his friends were able to grasp onto his legs before he fell completely, and helped him to steady himself before they themselves stood.

“You alright?” Avi asked, frowning. The bass kept a strong hand on Scott’s arm, worried that the blonde may fall at any time if he were to let go. The baritone himself seemed unsure as to whether he would be able to keep himself steady, and was silently grateful that his friends were literally ready to catch him when he fell. He could take some comfort in that, at least, but it did nothing to calm his nerves. Salty liquid was still dripping down his face, his feeble attempts to halt them doing nothing as they seemed to increase. He was still shaking slightly, and found himself having to grab onto both Kevin and Kirstie as they gradually made their way out of the restaurant and into the open space. The streets were full of people, and Scott could only see them as potential threats to Mitch’s wellbeing. Avi’s firm hand was still gripping Scott’s arm, and the bass’s focused face was decorated with fear and concern. The blonde was still glad, and concentrated on trying to walk without falling, even though his vision was blurred by his tears, and his mind was elsewhere. He found himself worrying about what other people would think of him if they saw him. They’d believe that he was weak and pathetic.

With each step they took, the baritone grew increasingly more worried about his boyfriend. He couldn’t see the countertenor anywhere, and found himself staring at the roads, hoping that he would not see his boyfriend slumped in the middle. He let out a sob and stood still as Kirstie wrapped her arms around him. At that moment, he believed that everyone had turned to look at him. He felt like a circus freak, the main attraction that everyone wanted to see. Kevin and Avi watched on with pity written over their faces, but Scott didn’t want pity – he wanted Mitch. And he couldn’t find Mitch anywhere.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” the blonde choked out, and the beat boxer and the bass shared a look of shock and confusion. Why would Scott think that Mitch was dead? There were plenty of people out – it was unlikely that Mitch would have been attacked. Kirstie, however, did not seem at all surprised by Scott’s panic-filled question, and simply held him tightly whilst promising that their younger, brunette friend was okay. The doubt was still flooding Scott’s eyes and dripping down his face as Avi and Kevin watched on, perplexed.

“He’ll be fine – he probably just wanted some time to think,” Kirstie whispered in an attempt to reassure the baritone. She herself had a look of uncertainty in her eyes when she glanced back at her other friends.

“You know what happened when he had time to think, Kirst!” Scott’s voice was suddenly louder as he stepped back from his long haired friend, who simply stared at the floor, “you don’t know what it was like to find him!”

A look of realization crossed Avi and Kevin’s face, and the four members stood there, sharing looks of terror as rain began to pour down on them from the sky.