Scott was watching TV with Wyatt when Mitch practically skipped in, a huge grin on his face. Scott furrowed his brow and smiled, amused and confused. "What's got you so pleased?"

Mitch stood in front of him and dangled a slip of paper in his face. "I got a boy's number," he sang, still smiling happily. Scott tried to ignore the drop of his stomach and plastered a grin on his own face. "That's great!" It caused him a great pain to say the sentence cheerfully. "Who is he?"

Mitch plopped himself down next to Scott and exhaled, satisfied. "His name is Travis, and I met him at the gym. I mean, we've talked a few times, but this time was just..."

He still has that goofy grin on his face, Scott thought, irritated. Mitch sighed happily, unaware of Scott's less than pleased thoughts. "It was just great."

"So when are you going to call him?"

"I don't know; maybe tomorrow? Is that a good time?"

Scott tried to keep his jealousy down to a minimum. Mitch was happy, so Scott should be happy. Besides, it was his own fault that he didn't have the guts to ask Mitch out himself.

"Are you sure you want to call him? He could be a creeper, for all you know," Scott internally winced at how cold he sounded, even to his own ears. He hadn't meant to sound that harsh.

Mitch gave him a weird look. "Yeah, but if I thought like that, I wouldn't ever date." He laughed, albeit a little nervously, and scratched the back of his head.

"But you've only talked to him a few times, you should at least go for coffee or something first," Scott argued.

Mitch smiled at him, clearly indicating that he thought Scott was acting like an idiot. "Yes, Scott, that's why he gave me his number," he shook the paper at Scott. "So that we could do that. So I could call him and make plans for a coffee date or whatever."

Scott will admit that he may have let his jealousy get the better of him. "What I'm saying is that you should try to be friends before going out on a date." He might have raised his voice slightly. He ignored the hurt in Mitch's eyes.

"But I'm interested in him in a romantic way, Scott, not in a friendly way."

"I don't like this Mitch. Just get to know him better before you date!"

Mitch looked taken aback, and Scott immediately felt guilty. "I didn't think you'd react like this, Scott," Mitch's voice held obvious hurt in it. "I thought you'd be at least a little happy for me."

Scott's jealously flared up again. "Well I don't, Mitch. You're just going to have to live with it. You're an idiot for thinking like this." He spat.

Mitch looked up at him, shocked. "Scott?" he sounded close to tears. Scott glared at him. "I need to get away from here." He said harshly. He stood suddenly. "I need some fresh air."

"Scott, wait—"

Scott grabbed his jacket, walking out of the apartment and into the crisp air outside.

As soon as he had made it ten steps out, Scott wanted to go back inside and apologize to Mitch. He had been completely unfair and had let his jealousy control his words. He regretted everything he had said in the previous conversation. But he couldn't muster up the bravery to march into his apartment and say that he's sorry.

He marched down the street, passing restaurants, cafés, and shops, until he finally slowed down enough to check his location. He was somewhere on Hollywood Blvd., by a small cluster of old shops. He checked his watch. It was almost midnight. He should probably man up and go apologize to Mitch.

He turned around and headed towards home at a slower pace, until something caught his eye.

It was an old, musty smelling shop called Mystique's, and basically all it was, was a pawn shop full of knick knacks and trinkets. He didn't know what about the store drew him towards it, but he walked in anyway, entranced.

He browsed the disorganized shelves, looking for something interesting, maybe something for Mitch, and he ran across an ancient looking necklace.

It was a rock with blue veins running through it, almost seeming to glow, and its rich, brown color gleamed in the dimly lit shop. Two markings were painted on it in white: an addition sign at the top and a subtraction at the bottom. It hung on a fraying cord, a small spiral of metal attaching rock to rope.

Scott lifted it off of the display, the blue veins illuminating in his eyes. "Whoa," he said quietly.

"That's an old one."

Scott jumped about five feet and nearly dropped the necklace in his surprise. He whipped his head around to see the offender, a little old African-American woman with a smile on her face. He let out a sigh of relief. He raised the necklace up so that she could see it. "This is old?"

The old woman laughed. "Yes, it's been in here since before even my shop opened, and that's old. It belonged to the shop before us, which was a shady place. We meant to return it to the owner, but my daughter simply couldn't let it go. She's gone on a trip, though, and I've been trying to sell the thing before she gets back home." She stuck out a plump hand. "I'm Mystique, by the way."

Scott took her hand and they shook. "I'm Scott, and I think I just might be your buyer."

Mystique smiled as she led him to the counter. "I'd assumed you were; you looked awful interested in that necklace of yours."

As the old woman scanned the price tag with her scanner, Scott asked, "Um, do you think you would have anything that would work as an apology gift?"

Mystique shot him a disapproving look. "What did you do, boy?" Guilt once again dropped in Scott's stomach, and he looked at the floor sheepishly. "It's hard to explain. It's sort of a long story." Mystique placed her head in her hand and gestured around the store with her other hand. "Does it look like I'm busy or something to you?"

Scott sighed in slight annoyance. "No."

"Then I'm pretty sure we have enough time for a story."

"Alright, fine. My friend, Mitch, he came home with a guy's number, and he was really happy," Scott paused and looked at Mystique. She looked back at him, offended. "What? You think I'm just another homophobic bastard that's scared of a little change?" Scott smiled at her, warmth for the old woman filling his chest. She rolled her eyes. "Aren't you going to continue, Space-Head?"

"Um, yeah. So I might have a little, er, crush, youmight say, on him. So, I overreacted and I was a complete jerk to him about it. I feel really bad, Mystique, and I just walked out on the argument, so now I don't really know how to fix this. That's why I need an apology present."

Mystique gave him a look. "Boy, you shouldn't be doing those kinds of things to the people who care about you, no matter what the excuse is. You're an idiot for dong that, son." She shook her head at him, tight-lipped. "But I do think I might have the thing for you."

She led him somewhere in the back of the store, where the cluttered shelves were stuffed so full of items it was near overflowing. Mystique stood on tip toe and pulled a small box from the top of the shelf, carful not to knock anything down. "Your friend, does he like jewelry?" Scott grinned, amused. "Yeah, he wears it all the time. He's such a drama queen about it too. He knows what seems like every jeweler on the planet."

The woman's disapproving expression softened into a gentle smile. "It's obvious that you like him a lot." She opened the box and presented what was inside. A small bracelet rested on the red cushion. It was simple, made out of a silver chain, with a gold circle in the middle. An Ohm symbol was etched into the metal: Ω

Scott openly gaped at it and took the box from her gently. "Wow. He'll definitely love this. He's really into all that symbol stuff, even though he doesn't know what any of it means."

Mystique smiled warmly at him. "Now, I'll give that to you for free, because that crush of yours clearly deserves it." Scott frowned at her.

"How? You don't even know him."

This time, her grin was mischievous. "Because he has to put up with you, that's how."

"Hey!" Scott laughed, pretending to be hurt. "That's not fair!" Mystique placed a hand on his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Enough chit-chat. I should have closed a while ago. Now, go and apologize, boy!"

They went to the doorway and Scott paused just as he was about to go out. "Thank you, Mystique." The old woman shook her head and practically shoved him out the door. "Forget me, boy, and go say you're sorry!"

Scott left, grinning, and headed down the street, swinging his bag along the way.

As soon as he got to the door to his apartment, he stopped, his heart pumping. He inhaled deeply through his nose and thought about the bracelet he was going to give Mitch. He could do this. He had to do this.

He pushed the door open and walked inside bravely, only to find the flat empty and all of the lights turned off.

He groaned, suddenly remembering the time. He looked at his watch and stifled another groan. It was nearing two o' clock in the morning. Of course Mitch had gone to bed. Scott sighed and went to his room, setting the bag of items on his bed.

He sat on the mattress and buried his face in his hands, stressed. This was not going well. Now he would have to wait another day before he could apologize to Mitch, and that felt like too long. Scott reached into the plastic bag and pulled out the unusual necklace, admiring how the blue veins glowed in the darkness.

He ran his thumb over the shiny rock and traced the blue lines, entertaining himself. He was unable to sleep with his mind on Mitch.

Scott squinted at the rock through the darkness and placed his thumb over the white addition sign painted on it. Suddenly, a blindingly white light filled his vision and he felt the sensation of being pulled forward, and a dizzying feeling was all he could focus on.

Suddenly he halted to stop, and he slowly began to regain his sight. As soon as his ability to see was normal, he pieced together that he was now in a desert. He was sitting down on the ground, feeling the white sand burn with heat from the sun, which was high up in the sky. It appeared as though he was sitting in the middle of nowhere.

Scott began to freak out.

What the Hell? How did I get here? Am I dead? Is this actually Hell?

He didn't know where he was or how he had gotten there, and all he knew was that he was in a desert, explaining the scorching heat and sand.

"Help!" he screamed, desperate for at least a sign of life. "Help! I don't know where I am!" No one answered. Scott swallowed and got to his feet, scanning the area.

He knew this sudden change of location had something to do with the necklace, and he wanted to throw it to the ground and stomp on it. But, he knew that it might also be able to get him back, so he kept hold of it and stuffed it into his back pocket. He had already begun to sweat under the baking heat of the sun.

His blue eyes swept over the horizon, and he spotted a small silhouette of a house in the close distance. He hardened his resolve and headed in the direction of the house, his courage faltering. He had to get home, and this was the only possible way he would be able to.

He kept a closed fist around his necklace, and for the first time in his life, he prayed.

Please help me get back home to Mitch.