He Doesn't Know (A Mitch Grassi and Scott Hoying fanfiction)

3 - Bonding

Mitch's point of view

The sound of the ocean's waves cascading over each other filled the air along with the seagulls who called to each other. The sun was covered by the edge of a grey cloud, which caused a light yellow and peach sky with a silver lining to the cloud. The sun rays slightly spilled over the edge of the cloud, hopefully blessing us with some good luck. 

Scott nudged me playfully. His eyes were bright blue, which reminded me of what the sky would've looked like today, hadn't it been for the clouds. I guess we just stared at each other for a few minutes. Scott looked happy, and that made me content.

"Feeling better?" I asked.

"Yeah, thanks." He smiled, and I nodded my head. 

"Shawty got them apple bottom jeans, boots with the furrr.." I heard Kevin sing.

"Kevin, that is so 2009." I laughed.

"Uh bye." Kevin laughed as he raised his hand.

"Shawty, got them apple bottom jeans. Boots with the fur." Avi said, in all seriousness. We all broke out into laughter and enjoyed the moment.

Out in the distance, sail boats and ferries passes each other. Some honked, and there was a cargo ship further out. Additionally, there were some white yachts with red and black details on the side. There was one that caught my eye, because of the ship's nose. It was long and curved down the sides that seemed to be rusted. It was called "Natural Disaster."

"That'd be a cool name for a song." I said, and pointed to the yacht.

"That would, we should see if we can come up with a rhythm for it." Kirstie replied.

"Why would they call it natural disaster?" I pondered out loud.

"Maybe it's supposed to make you think more.. Not everything pretty has to look pretty. Sometimes it's okay for pretty things to be, or sound weird. Why didn't they try to fix the rust on the boat? For a reason. A natural disaster is obviously a disastrous thing. But there are always bright spots, in dark areas. The bright spot? The cool, uniqueness of the boat's front. The disaster? The rust. But if there were to be no rust, you would comment on how cool the boat was, and move on. Maybe the owner of the ship wants it to linger in your mind for a while, for you to think about it for a minute before moving on with your life. I don't know, it just makes sense." Scott spoke up, eyes clouded with a mixture of something I couldn't put my finger on. 

We all looked at him, and started to realize what he said was true. It was weird, how he responded to it so fast, and how accurate it was.

"Woah." Kirstie whispered. I nodded.

"Nice one, Shakespeare." I leered.

"Thanks." Scott mumbled. 

"Scott." I whisper, only for him to hear.

"Yeah?" He responds.

"Come with me." I say, persistent. "Guys, Scott and I are going to go get some water.. Want anything?" I ask. They shake their heads and smile. I finish my drink, and sigh.

"But I don't want water." Scott hisses.

"Yes you do, let's go." I say, clutching his arm and dragging him with me to the railing of the dock that stands a few meters from the group. I quickly toss my empty cup into a nearby trash can.

I pull him to the railing, and stand there with my arms crossed. He rests the upper half of his body on the railing and leans on the back of his forearms as he looks at the large, yellow beach houses in front of him.