Chapter 8 - We Were Made for Each Other

At the party, Micky, Peter, and Davy tried their best to blend in and socialize with everyone. They had convinced Mike to say back this time. Luckily he did not argue, for he was still overwhelmed. It made the other three wonder what exactly they had talked about last night that got Mike so attached to the young lady. However, knowing that Mike was locked up safe in their temporary home, they played it easy and got to know their neighbors a little more.

"Uh, hi," Melissa said to Davy as Mrs. Gray left him to go tend to the scrape one of the children was crying over.

"Hi. Melissa, right?" Davy asked.

"Yeah," Melissa said, blushing a little. "I thought there were four of you."

"Yeah, Mike's at home right now. He hasn't been feeling the best so he thought it would be smart to just stay home. He didn't want to get anyone else sick," Davy lied.

"Oh, that's a bummer. You all seem like great people. Uh, what was your name again?"

"Davy, Davy Jones."

"Nice to meet you Davy," Melissa smiled. Davy smiled back, totally unphased by her beauty. In the back of his mind he reminded himself that everyone in the neighborhood was off limits, so he might as well not even try to fall in love now. Especially with the girl Mike had fallen so hard for. They talked for a little while and then parted ways to talk to other people from the neighborhood.

Hours passed and the sky darkened. It was when Davy and Peter were talking with Andrew Duncan that they heard a muffled 'thud' and a gasp travel across the yard. They looked over to the fire pit to find Micky on the ground, rolling away from the fire with his hands on his head. Davy and Peter rushed to his aid, helping him sit up.

"Micky! Are you okay?" Peter asked.

Micky groaned, removing one hand and seeing it covered in blood. He groaned louder, giving Peter and Davy puppy eyes. He didn't mean to hit his head again. He knew he goofed up.

"You're gonna be okay Mick. Hey Andrew, can we borrow your first aid kit?" Davy shouted, causing Micky to flinch a bit. Andrew nodded and ran into his house to retrieve the kit.

"You're gonna be okay, Mick, I promise," Davy said.

Peter gave Davy a concerned look. "Do you even know how to dress that?"

"I'm gonna give it my best shot. I watched Mike do it last night. Shouldn't be that hard."

Mike was lying on his bed in the psychedelic bedroom, almost asleep. Almost. Since Micky, Peter, and Davy had left Mike had been contemplating, planning, and plotting. Peter gave him a brief summary of what the gypsy had said to them, but Mike was hardly paying attention at the time. He continued to tell himself he couldn't get wrapped up in people who he was not ever going to see again. "Don't be like Davy," he thought, counting the dots on the ceiling.

He figured that if they were going to "be the change" as the gypsy put it, they were going to have to change everything about the daily routine of Pleasant Valley. However, he was not entirely sure of what that routine was yet. Maybe it was because he had not lived it enough times. Maybe he could just stay in bed and not interact with anyone. Would that get them home? No, Micky couldn't lay in bed for that long. Maybe they should be mean to everyone, or even ridiculous. Try not blending in. Maybe they could try and be as obnoxious, silly, and Monkee-like as the Monkees could possibly be. It would drive the neighborhood crazy, but it's better than the alternative.

In his daydreaming plans, he heard a loud knocking at the front door. Moaning, he rolled out of bed and left to answer the door. When he opened it, his eyes fell and met Melissa's bright blue eyes.

"Ah, hi," She said nervously. In her hands was a plate of food. "Your friends told me you were home sick… And hungover… And working."

"They didn't agree on a cover story, did they?" Mike asked.

"Nah, I don't think so," Melissa smiled a great, beautiful smile. "But anyway, I brought you some food from the barbecue. I figured that maybe you would want some."

"Uh, why thanks," Mike said, taking the plate from her. "Come inside, won't you?"

Mike stepped aside and let Melissa in. "My, looks kind of like my house. I think the architecture is the same, actually."

"All the houses on this block seem to be that way, aren't they?" Mike said to try and continue the small talk. "Have a seat, won't you?"

"Thanks," Melissa sat down on one end of the couch and Mike took place on the other end, trying to angle himself so he could talk to her and eat at the same time. "Don't be like Davy," he reminded himself.

"So what's the real reason you decided to stay behind?" Melissa asked.

"I was just a bit hung up, that's all. Didn't feel like talkin' to people," Mike said vaguely, taking a bite of a potato chip.

"You were hung up, like with a girl?" Melissa asked, curiosity lining her words.

"Yeah," Mike said, "Like a girl. You remind me of her, actually."

"Oh do I? Is that why you acted so strangely when I came by this afternoon?"

Mike looked down at his food, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Sorry about that."

"No, no, it's okay. I actually thought it was kinda cute."

"You what?" Mike asked suddenly.

Melissa shrugged, a guilty smile on her face. "I was looking for you at the party, because I wanted to talk to you some more. Get to know you more."

"Well, you know, Davy's the one who girls usually look for."

"I don't see it," Melissa giggled. "To me, he just looks like another long haired weirdo."

"Well that's what we are," Mike sighed, "Long haired weirdos."

"You don't seem like the type," Melissa confessed.

Mike returned his attention to the food. "Don't be like Davy," he thought again. "Thanks," he said with a smirk.

Throughout the night they asked questions back and forth, similar as to the night before. Mike learned so much about the girl. Eventually he forgot that she might forget everything the next morning. "It doesn't matter," he thought. "Maybe reliving this night won't be such a bad thing."

"So tell me about this other girl," Melissa asked hours later. "The one I remind you of."

"Her?" Mike asked. Where to begin? "Well, she's-"

"MIKE!" The front door burst open and in came his band mates, Peter and Davy carrying Micky by the shoulders. Micky's head was draped in bandages that seemed to do no good. "MIKE!" Davy yelled. "MICKY HIT HIS HEAD AGAIN!"

"Again?" Melissa asked. However Mike didn't hear her. He jumped up from his seat and came to the rescue, taking Davy's spot and helping Peter take Micky into the kitchen to redress the wound. Davy made to follow, but noticed Melissa standing and ready to follow as well.

"What are you doing here?" Davy asked almost critically.

"I brought some food over for Michael," Melissa said.

"Michael?" Davy asked even more critically.

"Is Mike not short for Michael?" Melissa defended with a cynical tone. Davy was not rubbing off the way she wanted.

"Yeah, but no one calls him Michael unless there is something seriously wrong is happening."

"Well Micky hit his head, I would say that's pretty serious."

Davy gave her a disapproving look before shaking his head and running into the kitchen where Mike was finishing up securing the bandage on Micky's head. Mike then tapped Micky's face a few times to get him to focus. "Micky? Micky? Can you hear me?"

"Yes Dad," Micky grumbled.

"Alright, think you can make it upstairs?"

Micky tried to shake his head like a four-year-old, but cringed at the pain it brought to his head. Mike sighed. "Peter, take him upstairs and put him to bed."

Peter did as he was told, helping the half-conscious Micky out of the kitchen.

"Mike I-" Davy began to protest.

"Is he going to be okay?" Melissa interrupted. Her question was obviously directed at Mike.

"It's Micky, he finds new ways to hurt himself everyday. I'm sure he's going to be just fine," Mike sighed.

"Oh, okay. That's good. Well, I should get going, then," Melissa said, pointing towards the front door. "See you tomorrow?"

"Of course," Mike smiled. "Anytime works fine."

"Thanks," She beamed at him. She then turned to Davy. "Have a good night, Davy." The young Melissa Neal turned lightly on her heels and left, leaving Mike romantically hungover and Davy suspiciously annoyed.

"Mike-" Davy began, but Mike shook his head and held up a finger.

"Not tonight Tiny. Don't even try and ruin this for me."

"She's a part of this… this world. We need to get back to our world. How long was she here anyways?"

Mike shrugged. "A few hours, maybe?"

"Was it still light out?"

Mike shrugged again.

"Mike-"

But Mike ignored him and left before he could get angry. He was too happy to get angry right now. All worries and frustrations were gone at the moment, and Mike wanted to relish in the feeling for as long as possible.