Scott and Avi exited the café, coffees in their hands. Scott clutched his tightly, letting the warmth of the drink unthaw his frozen hands.
"I don't remember it being this cold when we got here," he thought aloud, shivering in his thin hoodie.
Avi smirked and pulled out his phone, checking the temperature. "Yep, it's dropped ten degrees. But, I feel now pity for you. You chose to wear the jacket, and I," Avi seemed to puff up in his smugness. "Am in a coat."
Scott scowled at the bass and they continued walking in silence, dodging speeding people passing by them. "I'm a little nervous for our show," Scott admitted, breaking the silence. "I still can't believe we won the Sing-Off – I feel like there's something missing. Something important."
Avi nodded in agreement. "I think we need a fifth member," he declared. Scott stared at him. "What?"
"We need someone to accompany Kirstie and you; a three-part harmony. It would make our music sound so much better than it does now. To be blunt – we aren't that good. I want to be better; in fact, I want to be the best."
Scott furrowed his brow in quiet contemplation before smiling. "That actually makes sense," he laughed. "Good job!" Avi chuckled with him for a while before turning the subject back to the issue, suddenly serious. "We can only do this with another member. If we want to make it, then we have to have one."
They discussed the topic as they walked along, both of the musicians deeply immersed in the subject.
"We should probably search YouTube before sending out an advertisement," Avi planned out as they passed an alleyway. "That way we can—"
A small whimper from the depths of the alleyway cut him off, echoing off of the brick walls. Scott and Avi exchanged an urgent look before making their way towards the sound. When they reached the back of the dim alleyway they found a young man splayed out in the middle of the alley, beaten, bloody, and somewhere along the brink of unconsciousness. He looked to be around eighteen or nineteen, with black hair and a small figure. As Scott grew closer to him he felt worry and fear bloom in his stomach at the sight of the young man's injuries.
"Are you alright?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Scott regretted them, flinching at the stupidity of his question. Of course he wasn't okay.
The young man shook his head slightly, the small movement seemingly causing him pain. Avi shot Scott a look that clearly said, 'you're an idiot.'
Scott knelt down at the young man's side, his fingers fluttering nervously around his wounds. "What's your name?" he asked softly. "Mitch," the young man whispered shakily.
"Alright, Mitch, where do you live?"
Mitch shook his head violently, fear flooding his features. Avi immediately understood; Mitch had obviously been abused. Avi quickly bent down beside Mitch, comforting him. "We'll just take you to Scott's house," he jerked his head towards the bewildered blonde. "That alright?"
He soon realized that he may as well have been talking to a wall; Mitch had fallen unconscious, his eyes shut and expression slack.
"Why are we taking him to my apartment?" Scott furrowed his brow at the bass, and Avi sighed. "I'll explain later; you need to pick him up."
Scott nodded and scooped Mitch up his arms, disliking how Mitch's body willingly followed the movement, completely limp. He stood up, straightening his legs, and frowned at how unusually light the young man was.
They walked down the street quickly, ignoring all of the strange looks they received as they went, and were at the apartment in record time.
Scott was already sick with worry as he laid Mitch down onto the large, fluffy brown sofa. He felt as though he had known the young man all of his life, instead of the half-hour of spending time with him, most of which Mitch was unconscious. He stared at him, assessing his injuries, and noticed that Mitch's cheeks were flushed a bright red. He nervously felt the smaller man's forehead. He was burning up.
"Avi!" he called for his friend, who was currently in the kitchen getting supplies. "He's got a fever!" Scott heard Avi curse in response from the kitchen, and soon the bass rushed into the living room, a cool, wet rag in his hands. He laid it against Mitch's forehead, and the young man seemed to sigh in relief in his unconscious state.
"We need to get him to his home," Scott told Avi quietly, barely moving his lips. He wasn't sure why he was talking so softly; he certainly wasn't going to 'awaken' Mitch any time soon.
Avi shook his head adamantly. "No, we can't."
"Why not?"
"He's obviously been abused, Scott. Look at the finger shaped bruises around his neck; someone tried to choke him. He has bruises all over him that look like large fists; I'm going to assume that his father or a boyfriend of some sort has been abusing him."
Scott raised his eyebrows. "Someone's been watching a little too much of Sherlock Holmes." Neither of the two singers laughed at the small attempt to lighten the mood. Scott felt about one million questions bubbling up inside him.
"Why do you think he was abused?" he eventually asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
"I don't know," Avi pressed his face into his hands. Scott felt like copying his movements. They sat in silence for a few moments before Avi spoke suddenly, causing Scott to jump slightly. "I just don't understand why he was abused at all; why would someone be that cruel?" Avi's voice was muffled from behind his hands, but Scott still understood him clearly.
"I don't know, Avi," he said sadly, looking at Mitch worriedly. "I honestly don't know."
Kirstie wandered around the produce section in the store, trying to select vegetables of good quality. She hummed as she plucked a particularly large head of lettuce from the bin, plopping it into the plastic bag that the store offered. She selected the last two onions that weren't beaten to a pulp, and, balancing the two onions in one hand, reached for the bag dispenser next to the stand.
Suddenly, her phone rang; startling her enough to drop the precariously balanced onions, and the vegetables went bouncing off in opposite directions.
"Shit!" she bent down to pick up the onions, but they were already long gone. She sighed and pulled her phone out of her back pocket and answered, stopping the never-ending cycle of Bootylicious. She thought she saw a few relieved expressions when the song ended.
"Kevin, this had better be good."
"That's no way to greet a friend."
Kirstie rolled her eyes. "Whatever. What do you want?"
She heard the beat boxer sigh on the other end. "I was wondering if you knew where Scott and Avi are. They were supposed to be back here four hours ago."
Kirstie frowned. "No, but, I can call them?" she raised her voice in question, unsure of what to do.
"That would be great. Call me back after you do, okay?"
"I will. Goodbye, Kevin."
"Bye."
As soon as they hung up, Kirstie was dialing Avi's number at top speed, curious as to what was going on. He picked up around the fourth ring. "Hello?" he sounded stressed, worried, and rushed.
"Hey, what's up? Kevin's worried about you guys. Is something wrong, like, traffic or something?"
Kirstie listened urgently as Avi explained the situation quickly, and when he finished, Kirstie's shaking hand tightened on her phone. "I'm coming over," she declared.
"Whatever. I need to get back to Mitch anyway. Bye."
He hung up before she even had the chance to say goodbye. Kirstie rushed to her car, leaving her bag of vegetables for the workers to find in the onion bin, dialing Kevin simultaneously.
Kevin stared at his phone, shock registering within his brain. Scott and Avi had an abused person in Scott apartment. Scott and Avi had an abused person in Scott's apartment.
After a few moments, he shook out of his daze and raced out of he and Avi's small house and to his car, already feeling worry for someone he didn't even know. He broke the speed limit somewhere along the way and never slowed down; he was eternally grateful that he hadn't been pulled over.
When he was finally in the apartment building and at Scott's door, he resisted the urge to barge in. Instead, he knocked urgently. He hammered on the wood until Kirstie finally opened the door, glaring at him, and ushered him inside. "Mitch is over there," she whispered, pointing over to where Kevin knew Scott's sofa rested. Kevin briefly wondered why Kirstie was speaking so quietly, eventually assuming that it fit the mood of the situation. He went over to the couch, peering over Scott's shoulder.
The sight of how beaten and bloody Mitch was made Kevin's stomach flip, but the sick feeling was eased slightly at how gentle Scott was with the dark haired young man. He watched as Scott gingerly lay a freshly dampened rag on Mitch's forehead, and marveled at how the blonde gingerly rearranged Mitch's blankets. Kevin had never seen Scott behave with this much care.
Kevin finally spoke up, although softly. "Do you think he's going to be alright?" Scott nodded, albeit a little uncertainly. "Of course," he said quietly, never taking his eyes off of Mitch. "Kirstie's already gone to go and get a doctor. We didn't feel comfortable with moving Mitch – he seems too injured."
Kevin turned to look at Kirstie, only to realize that she was already gone. "Alright," he said, looking down at Mitch.
"He's going to be alright," Scott muttered, more to himself than to Kevin. Kevin shot him a worred glance before going off to find Avi, who was currently in the kitchen.
Scott let his thoughts wander a little and he messed with Mitch's blankets. He had to admit, the young man was rather attractive, even in his bloody state. Scott admired the curve of his jaw, and those eyebrows. Scott also found that he really liked Mitch's lips. They were perfect for—
'Whoa. We are not going there. I am simply appreciating his good looks, because I certainly am not attracted to him. Hell, I've only just learned his name!' Scott told himself.
'Of course you aren't attracted to him,' a voice in the back of his head said sarcastically.
Scott mentally frowned at the voice. 'But, I don't know anything about him besides his name.'
The small voice sighed, sounding irritated with Scott. 'Well, maybe something's different about him. Something… special.'
Scott shifted uncomfortably. He was talking to himself, as well as convincing himself that he was attracted to Mitch. It was a little strange, even for him. 'I dunno….' He thought uncertainly. 'I'll just get to know him. Maybe he is different.'
Perhaps Mitch was different than the other men Scott had dated. They all either cheated on him, treated him horribly, or blew him off constantly. He remembered that whenever he leaned in to kiss his latest boyfriend, he smelled a strong scent of alcohol in his breath. That relationship ended when Mike came home drunk and angry. He remembered walking in on Charles with two girls, and Charles's words of I'm not really gay. Sorry. It didn't hurt as much as Scott had expected, but he supposed he was just used to the scum he always made the mistake of dating.
Scott looked down at Mitch and flicked a pieced of dark hair off of his face. He resisted the urge to continue to caress his face and leaned away from Mitch, swallowing hard. What was this? This… feeling he had with Mitch?
Scott turned to look at the young man once more, uncertainty filling him yet again. He couldn't afford to be hurt again. But, maybe Mitch was different. Maybe Mitch was special.