Chapter 04.
Dougie's point of view

"Everyone, say hi to my boyfriend, Harry Judd!" I shouted in the microphone and glanced back at the satisfied drummer. He grinned wickedly, stood up and gave me a better view of his fit body. A smirk covered his gorgeous face as he grabbed the microphone by his drum kit and spoke.

"Such a princess, isn't he?" he grinned. "You lot have no idea what I am going to do with him once we leave the stage, but it ain't going to be pretty. It's going to be hot, messy and loud,"

I blushed furiously, not able to handle this. I'd agreed on joking on stage, but this had just been taken too far. I hadn't even got started with my bit, only said a few words and he'd already leaked pretty much everything. He'd said things I wished he hadn't said. The fans would obviously love the information, and see it as a joke, but I knew it was true. I knew that what he had said… would happen the second we'd head off the stage.

As he carried on speaking of what he would do to me I shut myself off. I stood numb by the microphone stand and wished for it all to be over. The cheering from the crowd was something I could no longer hear - all I had in my head was the sound of my heart pounding, my breathing becoming heavier, how I was struggling to get some of the hot air down my throat. Glancing back I saw Harry still smirking at me… and looking to my side I saw Tom and Danny stand there. Tom had noticed my sudden mood change, the worry was evident in his brown eyes, he even put his guitar aside, ready to head over to me, but once he began walking I had already thrown my bass to the side and ran off the stage.

"Dougie!" shouted Fletch and he made sure some of the crew blocked my way.

I pushed at them, panicked. "Let me go! Let me out!" I shouted, but ended up defeated on the floor. My hands went onto my face, tears streaming down my sore cheeks as Fletch and our tour manager Tommy were soon by my side. "I-I need to get out of here…"

"Ssh, Dougie, just relax. I know Harry took it beyond limits and I will make sure to talk to him about it once the concert is done. But right now I need you to sort yourself out and get back on stage to finish the show," Fletch said with a soft tone. Tommy rubbed a hand up and down my back, making sure I remained calm. "Could you do it?"

"They probably think I'm disgusting… t-they all know I'm g-gay… now everyone knows…" I whispered helplessly as I thought of all the writings that would turn up on the internet. All sorts of magazines would write about it and have it published as soon as possible.

"Dougie, drop those thoughts. The fans won't think your disgusting. If you're gay, then you're gay. You shouldn't be worried about the fans and their opinions," Tommy said with a sad sigh following. He shook his head, gazing into my eyes. "You'll be fine once you get back up on stage and do your thing. Don't think about what's happened. We will all sort it out once we're back at the tour bus, okay? You'll be fine, Doug,"

Tommy and Fletch helped me up, wiped my tears away and they motioned me back to the stage. As I stepped on it I tried to avoid looking at the crowd, grabbed my bass and I prepared to get started again. I froze though, the sound of Harry calling out for me to get my attention freezing me all the way into the bone. Thickly I swallowed, telling myself that if I put all of my focus on my instrument I wouldn't be further hurt, instead I'd get through the rest of the gig and I'd be able to flee from the stage and hide in my bunk bed in the tour bus. I was afraid of the chat Fletch wanted to have with us… I knew I'd end up freaking out entirely. I would lose control - and that was the worst thing I could end up doing.

In the tour bus I did as I had planned. I ran for my bunk bed, curled up under the duvet and pressed all three pillows over my head. I held my breath, hearing through the soft material how Fletch called out for me. Not a single movement did I allow myself to make. Frozen I laid there, wishing they'd all just go away.

But no… not long after hearing my name be called out, the pillows were removed and I soon faced Tommy's concerned face.

"Dougie, we need to sort this out. I can see how this is torturing you already," he said.

"Yeah, exactly, it's torturing me. Then you should all just leave me alone!" I whimpered with crying in my throat. "I just don't want to talk about it. Harry's allowed to say whatever he wants to say, then let him humiliate me,"

I gazed down at the bag standing by my side, then turned my gaze up on Fletch who stared at the big mansion looking house before our eyes.

"Well…" he sighed.

I shuffled on the spot, twisting and turning with discomfort. "It won't help me. I have no addiction. They will all just laugh at me,"

"No, no one will laugh at you, Dougie. These people are going to help you. Just because it's rehab doesn't mean you have to be addicted to drugs, you've got issues with other things and they will help you sort it all out. They will patch you up,"

"They're not able to heal a broken heart. You know why I'm feeling the way I do. It's not exactly any secret because it's all just been leaked and explained. You saw me that night. You heard Harry. You heard and saw our fight a few days later. And I'm sure Tom's not been able to keep his fat mouth shut," I growled and kicked at the bag. "I don't NEED rehab!"

"You need help, Dougie. You've become a lot worse than you were that night on tour. And with your condition worsening you know I'll always end up involved. I might not be your manager anymore, but I've treated you and seen you like a son for the last couple of years. You owe me some respect, Dougie. I want you to try this and take it serious. Let them help you, or at least try to let them help you. If they will put an effort in it then you will have to do it as well - simple as that,"

Fletch had taken to the drastic of phoning a rehab center in London. He'd told them my story and background, being given the reply that he could bring me there after the weekend. Tom had gone with us to say goodbye to me even though it was only for a couple of weeks I'd stay there - but he had done it in case I wouldn't be allowed to see any of them until I was out again. I hadn't even been allowed to say goodbye to Harry, they'd said it was for my best since he was a triggering part of what I would get help for. A part of me had really wanted to say goodbye to him and get a hug… but I guessed it was better the way they had planned. So far I hadn't really struggled to stop them from doing this to me, as I knew that in the beginning all I could do was to try and cooperate… it would hurt less.

Fletch escorted me through the gates and towards the building - nerves were growing inside of me, the tears were getting closer, probing on the back of my eyes, begging for me to release them. I wouldn't break though. I would show them. I would prove to them that I didn't need this, that no help was necessary. So far I had got through this hell. I was still alive. I hadn't been close to dying so why put me in a rehab centre?

Trembling took over my body the second Fletch pulled open the door and we were faced by a little room with a booth where a young woman sat. She raised her gaze, giving me a warm smile as she saw me. But I stopped. I felt paralyzed, unable of taking another step into the place. The fear was choking me, invincible hands wrapped around my throat to kill me slowly, my eyes began feeling as if they were about to pop out of my bloody skull. All I wanted was to fall to the floor, curl up in foster position and keep myself safe from the world.

Right now I stood vulnerable and exposed, ready to be murdered. Everyone could see me. Everyone could see I was a simple celebrity who had ended up in rehab - magazines and newspapers would find out about this, because let's face it... despite the failure of McFly the media was still hungry for news about us. And I'd be the first victim...

"Dougie Poynter?" she asked and stood up with a clipboard of papers in her slim hands. I looked nervously at Fletch who sighed.

"Don't even pretend you've forgot who you are," he muttered before he turned his attention towards the young lady. "Yes, this is Dougie,"

"Alright, I'll show you to your room and let you get settled. Once you're in there just take your time and I'll come back in a few hours before it's time for your first session with your therapist. You'll get to discuss the treatment with him and be sure you do know why you are here," she shortly explained, leading us through corridors.

The place didn't look cold, the colours of the walls were warm ones, frames decorated them and flowers in different sizes of pots stood placed out - I had expected something a lot worse, like a lunatic asylum or something. But me admitting it wasn't as bad as I thought... definitely didn't mean that I would accept this once a few days had gone. I'd make sure to show and prove to them that I wasn't happy with being in this hell-hole.

"How did you get in?"

Harry smirked and pushed me through the door to my bedroom. It closed behind him while he pinned me up against the wall, body pressed close to mine.

"I let myself in with the spare key of course. I thought you knew I still had it,"

"Well you usually phone me before you come over..." I muttered and tried to push him back. "You're crushing me,"

"Am I that big?"

My eyes squinted as I glared dangerously at him, trying to knee him in the gut so he would remove himself from shutting me in. He didn't move though. I failed, again. The discomfort I felt in this tight situation was one I wanted to get rid of quicker than anything. My gut feeling told me that things would get worse, ending up terrible. Something in Harry's eyes told me that he wasn't here because he wanted to hang out or cuddle... no... he had other things in mind.

"Harry, please, could you move away so I could at least have access to breathing? You're choking me, man!" I growled at him, hands pushing at his toned chest that was hidden by a T-shirt. Another feeling told me this had to do with the gig a few nights back... he had still not forgot about what happened. I was aware of how angry he had been when Fletch had tried to speak to him about what had happened. He was still a little angry and now it would most likely be taken out on me.

"Dougie?" Fletch said through the clouds of thinking that had blocked the clear part of my mind. Suddenly I had to sit before I would've blackened out entirely, bringing Fletch with me down as he gripped my arms. "Come on, son, try to get back up and take a deep breath,"

"I-I can't... F-Fletch, just let me go home!"

He held onto me, didn't let me go as I tried to rip out of his hands. At first his grip had been gentle, but with time passing by and with me beginning to slowly panic and disappear into the world of miserable emotions he had to tighten it.

A part of me wanted to scream at him how he was hurting me, how he was holding me hard enough to really hurt me, but I knew that he wasn't hurting me... it was just my mind trying to play stupid games with me, trying to put Fletch in a bad light. Of course I knew he was only trying to help me... Yet, somehow I really didn't want his help. I could do fine on my own. I'd go home and sleep until I passed away.

"Doug..." he tried, fighting to face me. I turned my face away every single time he nearly got a good view of it. "Dougie, look at me and please listen,"

"N-No! Just let me g-go home... I just w-want to go home..."

"You'd rather be at home with Tom, getting worse, than you'd stay here for a couple of weeks and be patched up?" I nodded quickly. Fletch gave me a frown and tried to haul me up from the polished floor. "You need help, Dougie, and soon you'll realize that this was for the better, and not for the worse. You will be fine. Just give this a chance. Get up from the floor and take a look at your room. I'll make sure to try and come over here once in a while and visit you so you won't feel lonely,"

Hyperventilating I kept shaking my head at him, whimpering as I quietly asked him to let me go - how hard could it be? He just had to release the grip he had on me... all he had to do was to let me go and I'd be alright. I'd be okay if I got my will through... why couldn't he realize it? It was really all I asked for...

"F-Fletch... p-please..." I whispered. "Please l-let me go home..."

Without a single warning the man wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly in his embrace. I shook in his arms. Tears were constantly running down my pale cheeks and I desperately clutched at the back of Fletch's jacket. I couldn't help but cling to him, helpless as I was. My life was falling off the edge of a cliff... and I didn't know how to stop it all from happening. All I wanted was to run home... when I deep inside knew that it wasn't the answer to everything. Running gave no result. Yet it was clearly the easiest way out.

The man wiped my tears away from my cheeks, gazing deeply into my eyes.

"This is a chance for you to heal. Imagine... Dougie... if you got through this, if you'd take this chance and heal, then you'd have a chance to once again be in McFly. If you heal, we could build the band back up and you'd go back to your old life, but much stronger this time, and you'd get to live your dream and take it higher. I know you were happy in McFly, with that life, playing gigs and meeting the fans, getting to do what you loved the most. You and Harry could become good friends again and everything would be great again,"

Chewing on my lip I let the words melt into my head, settling. A great part of me wanted for those words and sentences to become reality, as Fletch was right. McFly had been the best thing happening in my life and I wished things had still been the way they were before. I missed the music business.

"I-I want Harry back..." I whispered into Fletch's chest and let him help me back up on my feet - my legs were wobbling. They were so unsteady Fletch had to hold a tight and firm grip on me to keep me from crashing back down on the floor. "I m-miss the o-old Harry s-so much..."

"I know, Doug, I know you want him back. And I know he wants you back as well. But to get each other back... both of you has got quite a few changes to do. Harry has got to drop his new-found attitude and you have got to get on the right track of and with life. If you will not take this chance and get your life sorted out and built up again then the two of you will get nowhere. Tommy and I are going to team up and talk to Harry about making those changes. I'm sure he's ready to do it for you,"

I shook my head with disagreement. "He's said it himself... he doesn't want me back. He won't take me back,"

"That is nonsense, Dougie, and you know it," Fletch moved me, made me follow the nurse who continued walking towards the room which would be mine during my stay here. I strained against a bit, struggling weakly to turn our direction and flee back to the car, but Fletch was strong enough (or I was just weak enough...) to win over me. "Come on now, you can do this,"

They'd given me a room with a great view. The walls were painted in a rather soft, but still slightly dark colour. I was slightly stunned by the big bed. It was a rather simple room, but still it made me feel slightly relaxed inside. I wasn't very happy with it though... I wanted to go home. It was the only thing I had in my mind... the desperation to go home.

"What do you think?" Fletch asked. I shrugged and turned in his grip, managed to twist out of it and I sunk down on the edge of the bed. Releasing a heavy sigh I scanned the surroundings once more.

"Will Tom be allowed to come over?" I asked, eyes landing on the nurse.

For a second it looked as if she was preparing an answer, but as she swallowed her words again I knew what she had been about to say.

"Well... we usually don't allow visitors. This stay is all about you getting back up on your legs. Visitors could destroy your recovery, the plan. Which is why I'd suggest you won't see anyone except your therapist until you leave. They can come to pick you up on your final day, but until then... visitors is a no"

Feelings of loneliness crept into my system. A part of me wanted to just shut myself off, but simply I only wrapped my arms around myself, beginning to nervously and awkwardly chew on the inside of my lower lip. How could they do this to me? How could they stop me from seeing my best mate?

I knew I had been lacking of respect towards Tom lately, but that didn't stop me from actually knowing how hew had been fighting for me the last couple of weeks, if not even months. He'd taken care of me when I needed someone to take care of me... he had given me a place to stay when I had ended up incapable of keeping my own flat. He'd fed me... until the day I couldn't even stand the sight of food. And he'd given me a warm embrace to sit in when I needed it... until the day I decided to just stay in bed until I would hopefully fade away into nothingness.

Tom was my best mate... and I needed him.