Ian couldnt stop thinking about Mickey Milkovich. He sat on the front porch of the Gallagher house contemplating ideas of how to somehow get through to him. He could stalk Mickey until he was all alone again; though it didnt work out so well the last time. Ian was determined to prove to Mickey that no matter how much he hurt him, he was never going to give up on him. Ian also thought up ways to sneak attack Mickey, get him when hes most vulnerable and kiss him, fight him, hold him- whatever. Somehow remind Mickey that what they had was real, and to tell plead for Mickey to admit it- even if it meant he would get hit repeatedly. Ian knew that talking and pleading would never get through to Mickey, he knew this from experience from the whole time they were together.
Together, If Ian could really call it that. At first, when they started their little affair Ian knew there were rules set in place. No Kissing, no talking, no cuddling and no fag shit that would deem the two boys in some kind of queer-bo relationship. It wasn't until the end when Ian started to question the dynamics of their relationship, question if what they had was more than just two closeted gay boys fucking. Maybe It was somewhere in the middle where he started to question it, maybe even at the beginning when his love for Kash somehow vanished when Mickey came into the picture. Regardless, Mickey somehow had Ian wrapped around his finger so tightly that Ian sometimes couldnt breath when he thought about it.
Ian thought long and hard about ways to get to Mickey, however each scenerio ended badly when he replayed them in his head. What he really wanted to do was take Lindas gun from the Kash N Grab, kick the Milkovich's door open and open fire on Terry. Terry Milkovich, the violent drunk who raped his own daugther. Terry, the father who paid a whore to rape his own son right in front of him and Ian both. Anger heated Ians face when he was reminded of the day that Terry had walked in on them. The look of rage and disgust in Terrys face when he tackled Ian down on the couch was permantley branded into Ians skull, how Terry no longer looked like a human but like a monster prepared to feed. Even the face of a monster took no precedence over the look on Mickeys face. The look of fear when his father opened the door, the look of defeat when his father took one final blow to mickeys skull with a pistol. Finally the look of sorrow and pain when the russian prostitute climbed on top of him. Mickeys eyes burning into Ians, speaking a thousand words a minute saying things like This is for the best and What do you expect me to do, he's my father? His eyes only held Ians for a short period of time but they told him everything Mickey felt at that moment. Ian remembered why he had looked away, he looked away because Mickeys eyes finally said Im Sorry and Goodbye.
Ian felt a stray tear stream down his face and quickly wiped it away before people starting asking questions. His face was still sore from Mickey drunkenly beating him up few days prior, still a little bruised and tender in areas around his eye and mouth. ROTC hand to hand combat was his excuse to his family, he didnt want anybody to ask questions- hell he didnt even tell Lip; his best friend, his brother.
Maybe it was the anger. Maybe it was the hurt. Maybe it was the feeling of something squeezing his inner intestines so hard that he wanted to puke, that made Ian get up and head directly down the street. The image of the Monsters face made something snap inside of Ian. Ian got up and walked directly for the Milkovich house; but not before stopping by the Kash N Grab.