When Davy woke up again, Mike was gone. He frowned and hurried downstairs, hoping not to wake the others, as he searched for Mike. He eventually found him, sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands.

"Mike…?" He asked quietly, nudging him. Mike was sound asleep. He sighed and shook him until he groaned.

"Hmm, what?" Mike complained. "I wanna sleeeeep…"

"Yeah, well, if you wanna sleep, you can't keep running off in the middle of the night," Davy said with a sigh.

"Yes, I can," Mike said, sitting up.

"Why?"

"I can't miss it," he yawned.

Davy frowned and an idea came into his head. He took a seat beside Mike and watched him carefully.

"What can't you miss?" He asked in a whisper, hoping the sleepy Texan might forget to keep it a secret. Mike groaned and closed his eyes, a smile coming onto his face.

"You'll see," he said ominously, resting his head back in his hands. "You'll all seeeeee."

"Whatever, Mike," Davy rolled his eyes and stood to make the morning coffee.

"Morning, Davy." Peter yawned, stepping down the stairs.

"Morning," Davy sighed.

"Good morning, Mike," Peter smiled, gently nudging him awake. When he did, Mike shot up from his seat, eyes wide open and yelled "UP!"

"DOWN!" Micky yelled back a smile on his face. Mike looked at him.

"Very funny Micky." Mike said through a yawn.

"Thanks!" Micky said beaming, "I try my best."

"Hmm." Mike yawned again.

"You alright, Mike?" Peter asked quietly.

"Hmm, fine. Just tired." He groaned, returning to his seat. He rubbed his shoulder and Micky took a step closer to him.

"Is your shoulder bothering you?"

"No…" Mike answered as he winced in pain.

"Are you lying?" Davy asked with a frown.

Mike sighed and shook his head.

"I'm fine, really. I just…messed up last night and hurt myself, that's it."

"Messed up what?" Peter asked quietly.

"Look, I'll," Mike seemed to be getting a little bit nervous at where the conversation was heading. "I'll try to be more careful next time, okay?"

"You'll try?" Micky asked, raising his eyebrows. "Mike, you said that last night and look at you!"

"I said I was sorry," he muttered with a slight shrug.

"Mike, that's not what this is about and you know it," Micky frowned, sitting beside him. "We don't care about the money or whatever more you could've gotten. We're worried about you and we want you to be safe."

"I know, and I'll try," Mike said, standing up. Only to be pushed back down by Micky.

"If you don't want to tell us what you're doing, then fine. Don't tell us. But we're worried, I'm worried, that it's more dangerous than you want us to think."

"It's not dangerous—" Mike rolled his eyes.

"Look at yourself!" Micky exclaimed. "You came home late and could barely walk on your own! How's that not dangerous?"

"Mike, whatever you're doing is causing more harm than—!" Davy started to say, only for Mike to jump up from his seat.

"We need the money!" He yelled. "For once we can finally pay all our bills on time and get decent meals—"

"That's not what this is about, Mike," Micky said sternly, pushing him back down. Mike winced in pain when he did.

"It's not worth it, Mike," Peter said sadly. "Whatever you're doing, it's not worth you getting hurt."

"Of course it's worth it Peter." Mike said getting up again. "If me getting banged up a little now and again makes it so we can have three meals a day and a roof over our heads, it's worth it." He started walking around and waved his hands excitedly "Besides, I'm good at this, real good. I just misjudged something last night is all." Micky looked at his friend as he talked. Micky had never seen Mike so animated. Whatever he was doing he loved it.

"What do you mean 'misjudged something?'" Micky asked with a suspicious frown. Last night, he had said he screwed up. Now he misjudged something.

"I just…misjudged it," Mike said with a shrug like it was nothing. "That's why I only walked away with 75 this time."

"You could barely walk at all, Mike!" Micky exclaimed. "That's not you misjudging something, that's you becoming dangerously close to ending up in the ER!"

"But I didn't." Mike said "I didn't end up there."

"You almost did Mike!" Davy burst out "Do you even remember what happened when you came home?" Mike looked at him.

"Yeah, I came in, Micky helped me sit down, then you and Peter came down, you patched me up and we went to bed. Oh and I popped my dislocated shoulder back in."

"I guess his memory's fine?" Peter said with a shrug. Micky let out a sigh and shook his head.

"Mike, when we told you you needed to loosen up and take more chances with things, we didn't mean it like this."
Mike was about to interrupt but was cut off by Micky's hand.

"Please, just let me speak. We're worried about you. You're hurting yourself and that's hurting us. So what is really going on here, Mike?"

"I-I can't tell you right now." Mike said.

"Are you in trouble?" Davy asked.

"No." Mike said "And it's really not as dangerous as it looks. Honest. I've been doing this for a few months and this is the most I've been slammed around."

"A few months?" Micky whispered. Mike nodded.

"The money's good. It's a good side job in between gigs. And like I said it's normally not this bad."

"Just a rough night?" Peter asked quietly and Mike nodded.

"Yeah, I had a lot on my mind…but it's okay. Really, it is."

"Okay." Micky finally said "but you'll tell us if you need help?" Mike nodded.

"Of course. And the manager is really good at making sure we're all okay. I actually got checked out by the paramedic that was there and she sent me home." Mike said, sticking his tongue out at Micky.

"Oh," Peter said, relieved, missing Mike's gesture to Micky. "Well, if there's a paramedic there, then it's all fine!"

"That also means whatever you're doing must be dangerous," Davy said, frowning at Mike. Mike sighed.

"It's not dangerous, but you can get hurt. Just like in everything."

"And it's not illegal." Micky said. Mike nodded.

"The only thing that's technically illegal about it is placing bets, but people do it anyway."

"Are you boxing Mike?" Davy suddenly asked. Mike laughed.

"No Davy, I'm not boxing. Well, not really."

Peter's face fell at the idea Mike was hurting people for money.

"No, Peter," Mike said quickly. "Not like that."

"What is it like, then?" Peter asked, taking a step back from Mike. Mike looked at Peter.

"Pete, are you scared of me?"

"No," Peter said "Not of you. I'd never be scared of you. I'm scared about what you do."

"Well, would it help if I said I'm more of a defensive player then offensive?" Mike asked.

"What does that mean?" Peter asked. He knew it was sports terms but always got them mixed up.

"Well, it means I'm not hurting people," Mike offered with a slight smile. "It means that I'm defending myself rather than attacking others."

"Oh." Peter said "So you're the good guy?" Mike smiled again.

"Yeah, something like that." Mike said. Peter nodded.

"Okay then." Peter said as he went over and gave Mike's good shoulder a gentle squeeze. Mike smiled and nodded.

"Are you planning on going out again tonight?" Davy asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "We've got a gig to rehearse for tomorrow, remember?"

"Yeah I know." Mike said "and I'm not going out tonight." Mike said "I got the night off, but tomorrow I'll be gone from about 2PM until 4. I'll be home for dinner. Then I'll need to leave again."

"The gig's at 6." Micky reminded him.

"Yeah, and I'll meet you guys there to set up." Mike said "I'll put my stuff in the car before I leave."

"How will you get to where you need to go and to where the gig is?" Davy asked, narrowing his eyes. Mike shrugged.

"I know where the skating rink is, it's the only one in town. And it's not too far from where I have to be either, so I can just meet you there."

Davy and Micky shared a look, trying to decipher what Mike was saying.

"Okay, well," Davy said, turning his focus back to Mike. "We'll need to warm up and stuff so you should be there in time if you want to play." Mike let out a huff of air and stomped his foot. Peter looked at him in shock.

"I can't throw my hands up in the air because of my shoulder." He explained "Davy chill out I'll be there in plenty of time okay."

"Okay, how about we pick out our set list and practice?" Micky asked, clapping his hands together.

"Sure," Mike sighed and groaned as he stood up and made his way toward the bandstand, grabbing his guitar.

"Mike, I don't think you should be playing with your shoulder the way it is." Davy said.

"Well then how do you expect me to play it? With my feet?" Mike asked sarcastically.

"I'd love to see that." Micky said grinning.

"My shoulder's gonna hurt for a while, Davy," Mike sighed. "I'll just have to push through it if you want me to play at all."

"Maybe," Peter said hesitantly, "Maybe you shouldn't play?"

"I have to Peter." Mike said "Maybe I can turn it on its side and play it?"

"Well, let's get through this and you take breaks when needed." Davy sighed "And ice that shoulder when you take a break. We'll see how many breaks you take and go from there, maybe Micky, Peter and I can do some different songs while you ice your shoulder."

Mike nodded and looked down.

"Yeah," he muttered, not paying attention to any of them.

"Mike?" Micky asked, waving a hand in front of his face. "You still with us?"

"Huh?" He blinked. "Yeah, just thinking."

"About what?"

"Things…" Mike shrugged and turned away from them.

"What kind of things?" Peter asked.

"Well, I really like doing what I'm doing." Mike said.

"Okay," Micky said "Are you thinking about quitting the band?" Mike shrugged.

"Mike, you can't quit!" Davy said.

"It wouldn't be permanent." Mike said quickly "It'd just be until we got enough money for rent and things so we don't have to worry about it for a while. See, what I do…there's a traveling one. I'd go around for a few weeks and do this and then come home. It makes more money than just doing home ones. Ya dig?"

"Will we see you during that time?" Peter asked, worried. He didn't know what Mike was doing and he didn't want his friend to go out and get hurt, while he sat idly by at home. Mike sighed.

"No, but I'd call you guys from every place we stop at every day."

"How would we pay for it?" Micky asked "the hotels and stuff."

"Well, how it works is the one that I do. It's a flat 5$ fee to enter. If your team wins and no one gets hurt you get the 5$ back plus x amount to divided between your teammates, there's six people on a team. And it's different amounts. Now with the traveling team you pay 50$ to enter and there's a dozen people on the team. The entry fee covers your hotel room and food if you eat there. And the prize money is more. I think the last one was 1,0000$"

"Wow," Micky said, eyes widening.

"And yeah, I can qualify for the traveling team too. So if I win, we'll be covered." Mike shrugged.

"That's great!" Peter smiled. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." Mike chuckled. He looked at Davy and Micky "Well, what do you two say?"

"We don't have 50$ Mike." Davy said "Well, not to throw around on some contest you may or may not win." Mike looked at him.

"Davy I can win this thing. I just need to practice."

"Yeah, you can win it, if you don't get hurt." Davy said "you got pretty banged up last night."

"Yeah, that's because some knucklehead tripped me and started a pileup. That was a foul and they called it as such." Mike answered.

"Huh?" Micky frowned, not understanding what he had meant.

"Nevermind," Mike shook his head and sighed. "Well, I can do it. You just have to believe me."

Davy closed his eyes, thinking about it.

"Fine," he said reluctantly. "But please, please be careful."

"I always am." Mike said and in a rare show of affection he hugged the British man with his good arm. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, I guess." Davy said not quite sure how to respond to that.

"I'll win it." Mike said "Now let's get some practicing in."

Micky nodded in approval and the Monkees began working out a setlist.