"Micky."

"Micky?"

"Micky, please. Oh bloody hell, Micky! Please wake up!"

Micky heard a familiar voice calling for him. At first it sounded far away, but after a moment or two he realised that the person was close to him. Micky's head felt heavy, and his body weak. He could feel something soft and fluffy against the side of his face.

Micky felt someone shaking him. Whether this person had been shaking him for long or not, he wasn't sure. Micky forced his eyes open as consciousness finally hit him - he was laying on his stomach, on the floor, his head turned to the side. He could feel the fluffy rug against his cheek, but then he realised he could feel something else against his face, too - something sticky. Micky then noticed a pair of knees kneeling on the floor near him. He blinked as the person shook him again.

"Oh thank god." The familiar voice sighed with relief. "You're alive!"

Micky rolled onto his back, blinking hard before opening his eyes. There, hovering over him, was a concerned-looking Davy.

"Jesus Christ, Micky." Davy said, sitting back on his heels. "I thought you were dead!"

Micky winced - his head was pounding - and he propped himself up on his elbows. He looked to the rug next to him a noticed a little pool of vomit. Just looking at it made Micky want to throw up again, and when he rubbed the side of his face he realised that he'd been asleep in it.

"What the bloody hell are you playing it?!" Davy asked, aghast. "Have you been like this all night?"

Micky tried to piece together the events of the previous night, but the only memory that entered his brain was that of Mike ending their relationship. Once again, Micky felt sick to his stomach as he realised it wasn't all just some horrible nightmare.

Davy sat back, leaning against the side of the couch and rubbing his face with his hand - he looked as if he'd had quite a fright.

Micky rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat. "What are- what are you doing here?" He asked.

"I came to see how you were doing." Davy replied, watching over Micky with both concern and annoyance. "I saw the lights on inside and when you didn't answer the door I thought I'd try to get in. The door was unlocked so I let myself in and found you in this state. I thought you were dead, Micky!"

"Sorry." Micky muttered. He sat himself up properly and rubbed his eyes roughly.

"How much did you have to drink?" Davy asked.

"I don't remember." Micky mumbled.

Davy shook his head, pulling himself to his feet. The Englishman sighed deeply and scratched his head. "Here," He said, taking hold of Micky's arms and pulling the taller man to his feet. "Get upstairs and have a shower. I'll make you something to eat and er-" Davy looked down at the vomit on the rug. "-And I'll clean this mess up."

"You don't have to do that." Micky told him.

"Go and get yourself cleaned up, will you?" Davy asked. "Look at the bloody state of ya."

Micky felt embarrassed, and he didn't have the strength to argue. Micky gave his friend and band mate a small nod of the head before making his way upstairs to get himself cleaned up.

The hot water hitting Micky's body helped make him feel more human again - but only slightly. All Micky could remember was taking a bottle of scotch and a bottle of vodka into the Den and everything after that became a total blank. Micky could remember Mike leaving, though - that memory was as clear as day. Micky totally zoned out as he recalled the moment Mike walked out, and he felt his blood run cold.

Every inch of Micky's body, inside and out, hurt. His brain hurt. His heart hurt. Micky stood beneath the falling water and wrapped his arms around himself, willing the pain away. He didn't want to go back downstairs and face Davy; Micky didn't even want to face himself.

But suddenly Micky was dressed and walking down the stairs again. He felt like a robot, and his raging hangover didn't do much to help him, either. When Micky walked into the kitchen he found a plate of toast and a glass of water waiting for him. Davy was stood at the counter, stirring some milk into two cups of coffee.

Micky pulled out a chair and sat himself down. He rested his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands.

"Eat that." Davy said, and when Micky peaked through his fingers he could see his friend gesturing to the toast. "You need something to absorb some of that booze."

Micky didn't feel like eating, but he knew Davy had a point. Micky begrudgingly picked up a slice of toast as Davy sat down opposite him.

"What the hell happened last night, Micky?" Davy asked, placing the cups of coffee down on the table. "Did you go out? Did you have people over?"

Micky shook his head, half-heartedly chewing on a bite of toast. "No." He replied. "I was on my own."

"You got into that state on your own?!" Davy asked - his face was scrunched up in horror and disgust. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Micky dropped the toast back onto the plate and took a sip of water.

"I know about Mike." Davy said, causing Micky's head to snap up and his heart start to race. "He called me last night and told me he's taking a break from the band to work on his marriage. I don't think it'll just be a break though. To me it all sounded pretty final."

Micky hung his head again, relieved Davy didn't know everything but pained to hear him say those words.

"He said he'd already told you, so that's why I'm here." Davy continued. "We need to talk about where this leaves us. It was bad enough when Peter left, but now Mike has gone too?"

Micky run his fingers through his hair, sighing deeply. "I really don't want to talk about this." He mumbled. "I can't deal with this right now."

"Well we need to talk about it at some point." Davy said, watching Micky like a hawk. "It's not like he's given us any warning."

Micky pinched the top of his nose - his head was pounding. The fact that the band he loved so dearly was practically finished was the least of Micky's worries, and Micky was far more concerned and distressed about the fact his relationship was over than anything else.

Micky and Davy were silent for several moments. Davy sipped his coffee while Micky picked at his slice of toast.

"Do you remember when we were in Washington, on tour?" Davy asked out of the blue. Micky looked up, wondering why on earth Davy had asked such a question. "We had press in the morning, and in the afternoon we had a few hours for ourselves." Davy continued as Micky looked on blankly. "I went out for lunch with some of the guys, but you couldn't come because you said you had to catch-up with an old friend who was in town or something. None of us believed ya - we all thought you were hooking up with a girl."

Micky frowned. He had no idea where this story was going or why Davy had decided to talk about tour memories with everything else that was going on.

"Anyway," Davy went on. "After lunch I went back to the hotel looking for ya - I needed to pass on a message or something, but I can't remember what it was now. I went to your hotel room and as I was about to knock on the door I realised it was open. I mean, it looked like it was closed, but it wasn't - it hadn't clicked shut properly, so I could push it open from the outside."

Micky was suddenly overcome with a feeling of dread, and he found himself staring at Davy, wide-eyed, waiting for the next part of the story. Davy had begun telling his story quite confidently, but now he was looking uncomfortable and could no longer look at Micky's face.

"I thought I'd sneak in, you know, for a laugh - make you jump, or catch you with a girl or somethin'." Davy spoke slowly, and he was picking at his fingernail. He looked a little troubled, and Micky's breathing was now audible as he had a terrible inkling as to where this story was going. "Only you weren't with a girl, and you weren't alone, either..."

Davy lifted his head until he met Micky's gaze. "...You were with Mike." He said.

Davy's expression was a mixture of things; he wore a look of disappointment, confusion, uncertainty - he looked totally unsure. Micky's expression was quite clear though, and the curly haired man's face was a picture or horror and shock.

"You were on the bed... kissing." Davy continued, his eyes flashing down at the 'kissing' part, unable to look his friend in the eye as he mentioned that not-so-small fact. "So I turned around and snuck back out again before you realised I was there. I made sure the door was shut properly this time, though."

"Oh god." Micky choked out, burying his face in his hands again. His heart was beating so hard he thought it was going to break through his chest. "Oh god, oh god, oh god." Micky moaned into his hands.

"I never said anything." Davy assured him. "Not to anyone - not even my Linda."

Micky slid his hands from his eyes so he could look at his friend, although his hands stayed pressed to his cheeks in horror.

"'Cause I don't get it." Davy went on, a confused frown on his face. "I don't- I don't get it. I told myself that maybe it was some sort of fucked-up prank - maybe you knew I was coming and you set it up on purpose. But then I realised that was crazy because you would never do that - Mike especially would never do anything like that. So then I thought, well, it had to have been a one off. I mean, I don't know- I don't know what happened after I left, but-but... But it had to have been a one-time thing, because you ain't gay. Neither of you are gay."

Micky wanted to cry. Although he had often imagined what it'd be like to have somebody know about his relationship with Mike, he never imagined it would be like this, and he never imagined it'd be after that relationship had ended.

"But then I started to see things." Davy carried on as Micky chewed his bottom lip nervously. "Little things... things just started to make sense. I didn't know if I was just bein' paranoid or not. But you two were so cool around each other. Even after- even after what I saw... it was as if nothing had happened. You know, I even wondered if one of the lads had stuck something in me drink and maybe I'd just imagined the whole thing. Because I couldn't - I can't - get my head around it. Neither of you are gay."

Micky hung his head. He had no idea what to do, what to say, or how to react. There was no point denying it - Davy had seen it with his own eyes, for goodness sakes. Micky literally felt like his world was falling apart.

"What the hell went on between you two, Micky?" Davy asked, leaning forward and staring at his friend from across the table. "Please tell me it was a one off, some weird, fucked up experiment or a dare or something?"

Micky shook his head. He looked up at Davy's intense looking face. "No." He replied in a small voice. "It wasn't a one off."

"So this happened more than once?" Davy frowned.

Micky nodded, chewing his lip. "We were- we were a couple."

"A couple?!" Davy practically shrieked, startling Micky. "You're telling me you were actually together properly?"

Micky nodded again. "We were in a relationship." He said quietly.

"Oh my-" Davy's hands went to the back of his head. He looked absolutely exasperated. "So how long was this relationship going on for?"

Micky looked up at his friends stunned face. "Since February." He replied.

"February?!" Davy shrieked in the exact same way he'd done moments before. "It's nearly October! You two have been carrying on for all this time?!"

"We tried to stop it." Micky said, his voice shaking. "We-we we didn't mean to, but things just kept happening, and- and we broke up. We broke up for a while. That's when I got back with Samantha, and, uh- It didn't work. Nothing worked."

"So you got back together again?" Davy questioned.

Micky nodded, hanging his head.

"What were you thinking?!" Davy shouted. He pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. "You're not gay, Micky! Neither of you are! You've had even more girls than I have, and Mike- Mike's the straightest bloke I know! He's married, for Christ's sakes! He has kids! You're not gay!"

"Neither of us had been with another man before." Micky explained, his voice still wobbling. "We'd never even looked at other men that way."

"So what, you're only gay for each other, is that it?" Davy questioned, leaning on the table and staring at Micky. "You just suddenly decided to turn for each other, is that what happened?"

"I don't expect you to understand!" Micky's voice raised in volume. "We tried to fight it, we tried but- but we couldn't help it."

"I don't believe this." Davy started pacing backwards and forwards. "I don't bloody believe this! How could you do this, Micky? How could you both be so fucking stupid? Do you have any idea what would happen if anyone else found out about this?!"

"Of course we know!" Micky shouted. "Do you think it was easy for us having to keep our entire relationship a secret from everyone we cared about? Do you think that was fucking easy for us?!"

"I don't know, Micky!" Davy yelled. "All I know is that if someone else walked into your hotel room that day, we would be finished! Our band, our entire career - everything!"

"It's finished anyway!" Micky hit back. "But you don't have to worry anymore, because me and Mike are finished too. He dumped me. He fucking- he fucking dumped me."

"Well it's a shame he didn't do it sooner!" Davy threw his arms in the air dramatically.

"Don't fucking say that." Micky snapped. He felt genuine hurt and wanted to cry. "Don't- don't say that."

"Why not?" Davy asked, slightly infuriated. "You have risked everything, your career, my career - everything! For what? For some stupid fling?"

"It wasn't a fling!" Micky shouted, his voice breaking. "I love him!"

Davy froze. He opened his mouth and closed it again right away. His eyes widened and he looked at Micky in disbelief. "Love him? You think you love him?" He asked.

"I don't think, I know. And he loves me too. We love each other and- and now it's over." Micky's voice cracked as he said the last part, and his eyes filled with tears. He quickly hung his head, not wanting Davy to see him crying. He felt like a totally broken man.

"Love?" Davy questioned, softer than before. "You were in love?"

"We are in love." Micky managed to say before burying his face in his hands. He was desperately trying to compose himself. "He only left- he only left me because he wanted to protect me. He wanted to do the right thing."

Davy went quiet, and Micky sniffed hard. "But it's not the right thing." Micky went on. "Because I- because I fucking love him. And he doesn't think he can make me happy, but he can. And I don't- I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I'm going to do without him. I need him. He thinks I'll be better off without him but I won't because I love him and I don't want to be without him."

Micky couldn't stop the words falling from his mouth - he needed a release, and he couldn't contain his emotions any longer. He started crying into his hands, too hurt and upset to be embarrassed.

"Fucking hell..." Davy muttered, sitting back down opposite Micky. "Micky, don't- don't."

"So you don't have to worry," Micky said bitterly through the tears. "Nobody is going to find out this dirty little secret. People won't ever know that you were in a band with- with a couple of fags."

"Micky..." Davy said, his voice sounding sympathetic.

Micky sniffed hard, desperate to compose himself. He looked up at Davy who now looked as if he was totally out of his depth - the anger on the Englishman's face before was now replaced with a look of unbearable discomfort. If Davy could disappear through a hole in the floor right that second, he blatantly would.

Micky wiped the tears from his face aggressively. "You might as well just go." He said. "You know the truth now."

Davy hung his head and sighed deeply. "I'm not going anywhere." He stated before looking up again. He rubbed his face. "I can't...I can't get my head around this."

Micky was silent, pleased at least that the tears had stopped falling.

"You and Mike?" Davy asked as if he was trying to comprehend the information he'd learnt. "I don't- I don't get it."

Micky hung his head.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Davy asked.

Micky looked up. "We couldn't tell anybody." He replied. "You said yourself what would happen if the wrong people found out."

"Yeah, but-" Davy scratched his head. "But you're not gay. How could you be with all those birds if you would end up being with Mike? I mean, okay, maybe if you hadn't have hooked up with so many girls I could kinda picture you maybe being- you know- because, well, because you're sort of- well, you're kind of...sensitive. Not sensitive in a sissy way. I mean, I'm not saying you're girly or anything. Maybe sensitive isn't the right word. You- you wear your heart on your sleeve, that's it. So maybe I could get my head around you being like that if you hadn't pulled so many women. But Mike? Mike's not like that. Mike's the last person on earth I'd expect to be like that."

"Nobody could be more shocked than I was." Micky said softly.

"But..." Davy gripped his chin thoughtfully. "How do you just start liking blokes? Or a bloke? How does- how does that work? Did you just stop digging chicks one day?"

"I don't know. From the moment I met him things just changed." Micky confessed. "From the moment I was introduced to him there was something there. I didn't realise what it was at first - I thought I just looked up to him or thought he was really groovy or something. I dismissed the way I felt for ages. But then I started to figure it out and it was so confusing because I'd never felt that way or looked at a man that way before. But I knew he would never be into me - or at least I thought he wouldn't, so I just dealt with it. I got on with it and pretended it wasn't there. I hooked up with so many girls because I could. It was easy and it was fun. But it was like there was a big hole that I just sort of ignored, and I tried to fill it with all those girls, and with getting high and drunk and performing and working and- and I never let myself dream about being with him. He was like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It wasn't real, so why get my hopes up? Why tease myself by imagining myself with him? So I didn't. I just got on with it. And it was fine. I mean, he was married. He has kids. And I figured one day the way I felt would just go away. I never felt weird or awkward around him, because above everything else he was my friend. And then when he moved in here when he was getting his house renovated...things started to happen. There was this tension, this atmosphere. He used to fly at me for no reason, flip out and treat me like shit. We started arguing all the time for no reason, and then one day, one day out of nowhere...he kissed me. He kissed me on the lips."

Micky was staring at nothing as he spoke, recalling the years before he and Mike got together and the birth of their relationship. Davy looked uneasy, but he still listened to Micky intently.

"And after that it was a mess." Micky continued, hanging his head. "We didn't just get together. We fought it for so long. It was so scary, for both of us. But it was like there was this magnet pulling us together. We couldn't fight it. Not even Mike."

Micky looked up. He felt like crying again, but he tried to fight it. "It wasn't just a fling." He told Davy again. "What we had was real. It was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. But now I don't know what to do now it's gone."

"Fucking hell..." Davy muttered again - this clearly wasn't what he was expecting to hear when he confronted Micky about what he'd seen. "I don't- I don't know what to say."

Micky wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Why didn't you say anything, Davy?" He asked after a moments silence. "Why didn't you tell us what you saw?"

"I thought about it." Davy admitted, his eyes looking a little vacant as he tried to take in all this new information. "I wanted answers, but when I saw how chummy you two were, how it wasn't awkward between you both or anything... I dunno. I guess I didn't want to cause any tension. The tour was going so well and I think we only had about 10 days left at this point. I didn't want to ruin it, I suppose. But I was angry. I was angry and confused. I still am."

Micky sniffed. "That's fair enough." He said quietly.

Davy looked around the room as if he was expecting all the answers to his millions of questions to just jump out at him or something. Micky felt guilty as he watched his friend try to process everything he'd learned, but suddenly Micky was struck with a new batch of fear.

"You didn't say anything to Mike, did you?" Micky asked quickly, a fresh wave of nerves hitting him. "Please tell me you haven't said anything to Mike about any of this."

"Are you mad?" Davy questioned. "Do you think I have a death wish or something?"

Micky closed his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief. "You can't tell him you know, not ever. No matter what happens he can never know you know about this. He'd flip out."

Davy raised his eyebrows. "Yeah. I pretty much guessed that."

Micky sat back in his chair and run his fingers through his hair. He felt terrible.

"When did you two break up exactly?" Davy wondered.

"Last night." Micky replied quietly, staring into his lap. "We had a row a few days ago because I mentioned someday telling my mom about us. Mike always said that no one could ever know about us, but I- I thought maybe a few people could. A few people we could trust. But Mike didn't see it that way, and we argued, and..."

Micky trailed off, staring into space. His mind started spinning as he wondered what would've happened if he'd never have mentioned potentially telling his mother about he and Mike's relationship. Micky was hit with self-hate, and he despised himself for destroying his relationship with Mike. He felt sick to his stomach, longing for a time machine to take him back to that moment and unsaying all of the things that inevitably led to Mike breaking up with him.

"I messed it up." Micky finally said. "If I'd have just been happy with the way things were, none of this would've happened. I was ungrateful and selfish and- and I always asked for more. I always pushed him so hard. When his grandma died I tried to push him into letting me go to her funeral with him, I tried to push him into letting me tell my mom... I ruined everything. I totally messed it up. He broke up with me to protect me from all the stupid things I was asking for, all those things that could ruin us... Why couldn't I have just left it alone? Why did I have to say anything?"

Davy looked horribly uncomfortable once more. "Micky..."

Micky put his hands to his face and he wanted to cry again. "I've lost him and it's all my fault." He said as his eyes started to fill with tears. "He was broken hearted, I know he was... and I did that. I pushed him so hard that I ended up pushing him away completely."

Micky suddenly slammed his fists down on the table, causing his cup of coffee to slosh over the table and Davy to sit back in shock.

"I screwed it all up!" Micky shouted. "I lost the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Hey, come on. Don't do this to yourself." Davy stressed.

"Why not?" Micky questioned. "I'm a needy, selfish little bitch who always wanted more. I can't believe he put up with me for that long."

"Right, that's enough!" Davy said firmly. "What the hell are you doing, Micky? Look at yourself! I know you're hurting right now and although it pains me to admit when Mike is right, I think he probably is right this time. You can't seriously think you and him would've lasted forever, can you?"

"You don't know shit, Davy!" Micky shouted, tears filling his eyes. "You don't know anything about us!"

"Well I know you're a bloody fucking mess, that's what I know!" Davy hit back. "Ending up face down in your own vomit, do you think that's the answer, Micky? You're going to be a father, for Christ's sakes! You need to get a bloody grip of yourself!"

"I don't know how." Micky whimpered. "Everything hurts."

Davy rubbed his head, taking a deep breath. "Look, I know break-ups can be hard," He begun calmer than before. "And I get that things with you and Mike were obviously more intense because of how complicated it all was. I get that. But you'll get through this, Micky. In a few weeks you'll be alright. I know it's hard now, but this really is for the best. You can move on with your life, find someone who isn't so...complicated. Find yourself a good woman. That's what you need, man. Look at Mike - he's back with Phyllis. He's trying to get on with his life and you need to do the same. Drinking yourself stupid isn't going to help anything. If you'd have passed out on your back you could've choked on your own vomit and be dead right now. That isn't going to help anyone now, is it?"

"You don't get it..." Micky mumbled.

"You're feeling rough as guts at the moment. You're hung-over and quite frankly you're a fucking mess." Davy said bluntly. "What you need is to get some proper kip and just chill out for a bit. Get a good meal into ya. Tomorrow things won't feel so bad."

Micky shook his head. "I don't know how to deal with this." He rubbed his face, sniffing again. "I'm completely on my own. How can I act like everything is normal when it's not? It was hard enough lying to everyone when I was happy, but now? How am I meant to walk around like everything is okay when it's not? I'm totally alone."

Davy looked uncomfortable, but he also looked like he was trying to fight through it. "You're not totally alone." He said, causing Micky to look at him. "I mean, I know now, don't I? So you can talk to me, even if you can't talk to anyone else. I can't promise I'll be much help, but... But I'm here anyway."

Micky watched as Davy looked down awkwardly. Davy had always been a good friend, but between them they had never had any heart-to-hearts - there had never been a need for any. Davy did look to be out of his comfort zone, but Micky admired Davy's willingness to stick by him, even though Micky knew Davy didn't understand the true depth of his feelings.

"Thanks, Davy." Micky said quietly, sincerely, and Davy looked up. "Thanks for not telling anyone about this. I can't believe you've kept this a secret these past few months... I had no idea you knew."

Davy shrugged his shoulders. "It's hardly something to just slip into conversation, is it?" He asked.

The pair went silent. It was a little bit awkward, but at the same time Micky was relieved that Davy was there and that the Englishman knew the truth.

"You'll be alright, Mick." Davy said after several moments silence.

Micky painfully forced a smile - he really wasn't so sure about that.