Speak to Me. (Scömítche)

Chapter 1.

POV: Scott
"Look!" Kirstie cries from behind. "The fireworks are starting!"
"This officially marks three whole years of us being who we are," Avi says, raising a toast. Looking around at my best friends and really my family, I see all happy faces. All but Mitch, that is.
"Something wrong, Mitchie?" I ask, playfully nudging his arm with my elbow. He simply gives me an "Eh" and walks off the balcony, where we set up to watch the display. There is never a time where Mitch, of all people, is the sad Debbi downer of the group. He's always been the one who cheers people up. So when he has a problem, we all just KNOW that something isn't right.
"Maybe he's just tired?" Kevin suggests, even though everyone knows that that wasn't the real problem.
"Maybe I should go talk to him. I don't feel very festive either," I say quietly. Kevin Avi and Kirstie nod. Maybe what Mitch needs is a good laugh.
And if that's the case, I'm your guy.
Mitch sits crossed-legged on his bed in our apartment hugging a pillow. His phone buzzed again and again, but he didn't answer. A single tear fell from his uplifting, usually happy face. Although I know he was upset, he smiled a little when I came up to the room.
"Hey Mitchie," I say, and I slowly close the door. I make him scoot so I can join him on the bed and still be at his level. "What's with the silent treatment?" He looks at his phone again, which has buzzed for the fifth time since I've been in here. Another tear. And another.
"The third time. The third time T-Travis cancelled on m-me," he says to where I can barely hear him. He and Travis have had an on-off relationship for years now. To be honest, he's pretty bitchy in my opinion, and he does not deserve to be with Mitch. Lately, Travis has been planning events with Mitch and then canceling like, an hour before. Like tonight. It made me sick to see that Travis hurts him so much. It hurts me. Because I feel like I've taken on that older brother role in giving him advise. But I can't say anything about how bad Travis is in front of him, because he doesn't want to hear it.
"Oh Mitch..."
"Why are you doing that, Scott?"
"Doing what? Talking? Breathing?"
"No. Trying to comfort me."
"I don't know. I am because I care about you."
"Oh."
"Look. The others are concerned. Tell me if you need to talk and they don't have to know," I whisper. I want to help him. But I've never been a person who can talk genuinely to someone to make them feel better. But Mitch and I have a special bond that I can't break no matter what I do.
"I'm pissed. But I can't stand to lose him," he says. "I'll want him back."
"Well. I'd think about you. And what's best for your life. And your surroundings. I gotta get back. Come on out if you feel up to it," I say, and I give his shoulder a squeeze. This was awkward, yet comfort to me. Before I can leave the doorway, I hear Mutch's cute little weak whiny voice.
"Scotty?"
"Yes, Mitchie?"
"Thank you."
"I didn't do anything, but your welcome."
"No. It's more than that."