saving mitch ↠ scömìche

nine ↠ just friends

tomorrow morning when we wake,
this town will be a different place
and the past will wash away
like coffee stains
Pentatonix | New Year's Day

Scott Hoying's POV

I tended to rant in one of the notebooks I own a lot. It had multiple pages with several different types of rants, whether it be about stress or my family, I always ranted.

And my topic of ranting seemed to be pointing at Mitch Grassi. I suddenly stopped and didn't remember anything of which I wrote, so I read it from the beginning to see how I carelessly wrote.

Mitch Grassi. Mitch Grassi. Mitch Grassi.

I say that three times and yet you're still not here.

I know you feel like I'm just going to hurt you again, or that you're somehow not good enough (when in reality you're better than basically every guy I have ever dated) but I really, really like you and the almost-kiss proved it.

I hope that you'll get over whatever you're thinking as to why we can't be together, or if we can, because I haven't felt this way about anyone ever. I don't want you to fade away into the dust, Mitch. You're amazing and you deserve somebody better than me. Is that what we would fight about if we were a couple? Who deserves better?

In reality, I think we both deserve each other, no matter how awfully cheesy that sounds.

I want us to cuddle on late nights when there's a storm and we're watching some sappy romance comedy or a horror film that one of us would probably be horrified of. I want to fall asleep with you at night and never let you leave my side. I want to wake up in the morning and see your face. I want to take you places and show you the world, but I can't. I can't anymore. You won't let me, and even if I want the opposite of whatever you're thinking in your head, I'll respect that. I'll respect you.

I don't know what feelings can possibly do to you, since I'm not skilled in that area... and honestly, I don't think you are, either. But if it meant seeing you everyday, I'll take that chance of what may happen.

Because in reality, Mitchell, nothing is scarier than not having you by my side.

And yet sadly, I'm facing that reality right now.

***

Mitch Grassi's POV

"You're ignoring the love of your life? Oh dear God, Mitchell, what have you gotten yourself into?!" Kirstie practically screamed into my ear. Currently, she was across from me on my couch and that was the first thing she said to me after I told her about what happened not long ago.

"I can't let us happen, Kirstie. You know why," I said the last part a bit quieter.

"Mitchell Coby Michael Grassi," she said ever so slowly, "You cannot say he deserves better than you because you both deserve each other. I can't let my ship sink!" Kirstie groaned. I rolled my eyes at her 'ship' she has for us.

"It has been sunk," I said, playing with a loose piece of thread. She stayed silent before I spoke. "I told him about my dad. And my mom," I said quietly.

Kirstie perked up, "You what?" She widened her eyes.

"I told him," I said again, realizing I told him. Shit.

"You–I... you've known the guy since early December and me since we were infants, but you told him in a matter of weeks while I in a matter of ten fucking years," she whispered. I chuckled, "Sorry?" I technically apologized.

She playfully glared and I let myself smile genuinely for once. "You really do like him," she said after awhile. I groaned, "And that doesn't matter. I'm doing this for him," I mumbled the last part.

"Him? If you were doing something for him, you'd be dating Scott right now," she sighed. I looked down, finding a piece of thread on my black tshirt interesting. "I don't know. We're just going to be friends for now... just friends."

She sighed, but obliged nonetheless. I got really close and she groaned, realizing what I was about to do. "Any guys in your life?" I smirked, feeling like a teenaged girl. She looked down as a blush crept up, "I think so..."

I lit up, "Kirstin Taylor! You had me sobbing about Scott and not even mention a guy? What's his name? Do I know him?" I fired questions at her. "Calm down! I'm... I'm torn between two guys," she said quietly.

I waited for her to proceed. "One's Jeremy," she said.

"And the other... is Avi."

My jaw practically hit the floor. "Avi... Avi? Our boss, Avi?"

She nodded, avoiding eye contact. Avi Kaplan?

"So uh, who's Jeremy?" I changed the subject on Avi.

***

Scott Hoying's POV

I don't know how long I was just sitting against my doorframe to my room. Maybe an hour. Maybe three. I checked the clock against the wall near the frame and it read 2:42 in the morning. I squinted my eyes. It was 3-ish when I started to do this.

Oh.

A day.

Alright then.

I looked down at my water bottle and notebook. I've used most of the pages in there, ranting and venting about Mitch. I wrote down how he made me feel. What he's making me feel.

I honestly have never had a broken heart and I have never thought I ever would. I thought that I won't feel what it's like to get your insides ripped out metaphorically, I thought that I would just meet 'the one' and move on with life. But Mitch... I'm not even sure anymore.

I simply sighed, knowing I should probably sleep even though that's the last thing I wanted to do at that moment. I did cry, surprisingly, and I also felt heartache for what Mitch had to go through. I felt myself ripping apart piece by piece metaphorically. Oh, jeez.

I stood up for the first time that day, walking into my room. I felt myself become numb from the cold, surprised that I hadn't noticed the temperature before.

I ignored what I wore. I just hopped into the bed, stared at the ceiling and hoped my body would just float off into sleep. God knows that's what I need right now.

***

a/n:: errr?
i don't even know
ok
idk what to put here
so i'm just gonna
go
and
publish
now