Micky's path of self-destruction turned into a lonely one; even Micky's wildest of friends were telling him he needed to cool it a bit, but Micky decided to ditch his friends and go on his partying sprees completely alone instead of taking anyone's advice.
Micky carried on having sex with random men; there was one time Micky went to a parked car down an alleyway outside the gay club with a man he'd literally not even said a single word to. The man had simply approached Micky in the club, given him a certain look, and the two men went outside and fucked in the backseat of the car without a word spoken.
Micky continued to see Tony, and sometimes Micky found himself seeking out the powerful older man even when he didn't need drugs. Micky knew he was treading a dangerous path; his drug-use was becoming more frequent, although it was alcohol that continued to be his greatest 'friend'.
About a week before Christmas, Micky reached a turning point. He found himself back at Tony's house with Tom and another man called Andrew. The four men ended up doing a lot of cocaine before Micky once again found himself being used for sex. Micky agreed, although not long after it had started he regretted his decision to allow himself to be treated like a piece of meat again - but by that point things had gone too far and it was a little too late to back out.
Afterwards, Micky felt disgusting. He felt dirty, used, hurt and disrespected. He hadn't been forced to do anything - although he had been heavily pressured and persuaded - but the fact that he had gotten himself into that situation in the first place knowing full-well what was expected of him made him feel sick to his stomach.
Micky spent the following day in bed with his head under the covers. The phone had been ringing off the hook all day, but Micky had ignored it. When the curly haired man finally mustered the energy to answer the phone, it was his mother on the other end - and she was absolutely furious.
Micky had missed his little sister's school nativity play the previous night. He was meant to have gone to watch her with the rest of his family, but he had completely forgotten about it; instead he was out getting wasted and treated like dirt by Tony and his friends.
Micky's didn't just get a lecture from his mother about missing his sister's school play, but he ended up getting lectured about everything. Micky couldn't recall hearing his mother so angry and disappointed in him, and she yelled at him down the phone, saying she didn't know who he was anymore and that she was extremely worried about his recent behaviour. She also had a go at him about Samantha and the unborn baby - turns out Micky's mother had visited Samantha to find out just how little time Micky had been spending with the mother of his unborn child recently.
Hearing so many home truths from his mother combined with feeling utterly ashamed about his antics from the previous night, Micky decided that things needed to change - or that he needed to try to change them, at least.
So Micky decided to visit Samantha early that evening. He'd tried to make himself look presentable, but when he looked in the mirror all he saw was a complete mess staring back at him.
Micky nervously knocked on Samantha's door hoping that she was home. It had taken him all afternoon to pluck up the courage to visit and he feared that if she wasn't home he wouldn't be able to find the mental strength to visit again.
But Samantha answered the door. She looked shocked to see Micky, and Micky looked at Samantha in surprise, too - she was huge. Her bump had gotten so much bigger since he saw her last, and he almost became transfixed by it.
"You remember where I live then." Samantha said in a cold but calm tone.
Micky tore his eyes off her bump. "Can I come in?" He asked in a small voice.
Samantha stepped aside, letting Micky into the house. The two of them walked into the sitting room - there was a fire going and a beautiful Christmas tree in the corner - and Samantha sat herself down in one of the arm chairs while Micky lingered awkwardly.
"You can sit down, you know." She said.
Micky nodded before sitting down on the couch. His heart was pounding and he felt a little flushed. "How are you?" He asked.
"I'm okay." Samantha replied. "You don't look okay though. You look dreadful."
"I'm getting better." Micky replied hopefully.
"You're shaking." Samantha stated with narrow eyes.
Micky looked down and noticed he was playing with his hands, and Samantha was right - they were shaking. "I'm really sorry I haven't been around much lately." He said, ignoring her comment.
"Lately? I haven't seen you in 6 weeks." Samantha said. Her tone was frosty. "A few phone calls, a stupid bunch of flowers and that's it."
"I... I've had some stuff going on." Micky said feebly.
"Yeah, I've heard." Samantha stated. "People talk, you know. I've heard all about you getting drunk every night, getting chucked out of clubs and making a fool of yourself."
Micky hung his head in shame. "I'm going to change. It's- it's not what you think." He said, picking at his fingernail anxiously.
Samantha scoffed. "Not what I think?" She snapped. Micky looked up. "Why won't you just admit it, Micky? You're bored of the idea of being a dad. You were into it at first when it was new and exciting, but now it's reached the business end of the pregnancy you don't want to know. God-forbid you have to give up your partying, rock and roll lifestyle to deal with real responsibilities."
"It's not like that at all." Micky said, shaking his head. "I-I do want to be a dad. I really do."
"Then why haven't I heard from you?" Samantha questioned. "You don't even know that I had to go to hospital a couple of weeks ago."
Micky was horrified. "What? Why? Is the baby okay?" He asked.
"The baby is fine. But I was bleeding a little and I was really scared." Samantha replied, folding her arms. "And where the hell were you?"
"I didn't know! Why didn't you call me?" Micky asked.
"I did! I tried calling you. I rung you about four times but you didn't answer." Samantha said sadly. "Even the next day when I was home from the hospital I couldn't get through to you."
Micky put his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry." He said, feeling hideously guilty. "I'm so sorry."
"Not good enough." Samantha said bluntly. "You promised you would always be there for me. And in the beginning you were; you were always stopping by and calling me. What changed, Micky? Did you suddenly get bored or something?"
"No. No, it's not like that." Micky said, shaking his head dramatically. "I...I..."
Micky trailed off, staring at Samantha almost helplessly. Samantha stared at Micky straight back, wondering what on earth he was trying to say.
"What?" She asked. "You what?"
Micky hung his head. He took a long, deep breath to compose himself before looking up at Samantha again. "There's no excuse." He said quietly. "But you deserve to know the truth."
"What truth?" Samantha asked.
Micky was silent as he pondered whether or not to take the plunge and reveal the real reason why he hadn't been around much over the past few months. Micky played with his hands nervously, trying to figure out the right words to say and how to say them.
"What's going on, Micky?" Samantha wondered, her voice sounding much calmer and kinder than before - she sounded worried.
Micky looked up. He took another deep breath before he finally spoke. "I told you that I couldn't be with you because I was in love with someone else and that was the truth, b-but I didn't tell you everything." He begun slowly, his voice quiet. "I...I didn't tell you that I was with that person. I was in a relationship with that person, but...but we broke up. We broke up in September."
Samantha frowned. "That's it?" She asked.
Micky shook his head. "No... no, that's not it." He replied slowly, his voice wavering. "I...I don't deal with things very well." Micky looked down again, his voice small as he spoke. His hands were trembling even more now, and he wasn't sure whether it was because of his nerves of because he hadn't had a drink in several hours."I've realised that I don't cope with bad things like normal people should. I...I struggle. I-I don't know how to change it. T-That's why I drink a lot."
Samantha was silent as she tried to understand what Micky was saying. "So... you're saying the reason you haven't been around lately is because you've been struggling to cope with a break-up, is that what you're trying to say?"
Micky looked up. "It's not as simple as that." He told her.
"Why isn't it?" Samantha wondered - she looked genuinely upset. "You didn't think you could just tell me that you were seeing someone?"
"You don't get it..." Micky mumbled, looking away in distress.
"Some girl has broken your heart - what's not to get?" Samantha questioned.
Micky closed his eyes. "It's not a girl." He said quietly.
Samantha was silent. Micky slowly lifted his head to look at his pregnant ex-girlfriend who was now looking like she'd been hit by a train.
"What did you just say?" Samantha asked in a quiet and calm tone.
Micky swallowed hard. "It's not a girl." He repeated, a little louder than before. "I...I wasn't seeing a girl... I was seeing a man. I...I think I'm gay. I'm in love with a man."
Samantha's eyes were wide and they were slowly filling with tears. She kept looking like she was about to speak, but no words ended up leaving her mouth.
"I'm so sorry." Micky whispered, tears threatening his own eyes. "That's why I've been so messed up... he-he left me and everything is so complicated a-and I've been so confused."
"You're gay?" Samantha questioned gently, a tear falling from her eye.
Micky hung his head. "I don't know..." He replied, his voice shaking. "I'd never- I'd never been with a man before, but-but... but I fell in love. And it was such a mess, Sammy, I-I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
Micky looked up, tears filling his eyes as he looked at Samantha's stunned and hurt face.
"I never cheated on you. Not with him, not with anybody." Micky said quickly, realising how bad it all must've sounded. "I swear, nothing ever happened when me and you were together."
Samantha put her hand to her stomach and rose to her feet. She walked slowly back and forth as she tried to process this information, her eyes still wide in shock.
Micky hung his head. "I'm so sorry." He said quietly. "I never wanted to hurt you, I-I wanted us to work so badly. I thought that if I tried to make it work with you then I would get over him and fall in love with you instead because your-your amazing."
Samantha paused. "You used me to try and get over him?" She asked in horror.
Micky stood up, sensing Samantha's shock was turning to anger. He held his arms out to her. "I'm so sorry. I know that was wrong, I know I shouldn't but- I was a mess. I was so confused and I was hurt but-but..."
"Had you been with him before you got back together with me?" Samantha questioned, staring at Micky in disbelief.
Micky realised how bad this was beginning to look and he started to panic. "Only for a little while, not for long but-but then we broke up and-and that's when I got with you because you're amazing and I wanted things to work-"
"But you were still in love with him." Samantha's voice sounded desperate.
"I didn't want to be. I wanted it to work with you, but I knew it wasn't fair so that's why I ended it." Micky said. "I-I couldn't keep lying to you or to myself anymore, but I swear I never meant to hurt you."
"So you got back with him?" Samantha probed. "You got back with him after we broke up? Were you with him when I told you I was pregnant?"
Micky bit his lip and nodded his head.
Samantha's hands went to the back of her head in horror as she tried to absorb everything she was learning. "So you used me...you used me to try and get over him, you got me pregnant, and when it didn't work out you left me and ran straight back to him... And then you totally abandon me and our unborn baby because you can't handle the fact that this man has dumped you?"
Micky's lip started to wobble. "I never meant to hurt you."
"How can you be gay?!" Samantha shouted, the tears falling from her eyes properly now. "Was everything we ever had a complete lie?"
"No! I adore you, I-I think you're incredible. I love you so much-"
"But not as much as you love him, right?" Samantha questioned. Micky hung his head. "Who is he? Do I know him?"
Micky started to panic. "N-No."
"But who is he though?" Samantha pressed.
"I can't tell you." Micky replied quietly. "It-it's complicated."
"No shit it's complicated!" Samantha shouted. "What's the matter, is he married or something?"
Micky closed his eyes and visibly cringed. He could no longer look Samantha in the eye.
"Oh my god, he is married, isn't he?" Samantha asked.
Micky looked up, his eyes filled with tears. "Please don't hate me." He whispered.
"Hate you? I don't even know you!" Samantha shouted, throwing her hands in the air. "Who the hell are you, Micky? What has happened to you?"
"I'm still me, I'm still Micky." Micky held his arms out to Samantha desperately. "I still want to be there for you and the baby."
"It's a bit late for that!" Samantha cried. "You've lied to me for months, you used me, you've been having an affair with a married man... how the hell can you think I'd ever trust you again?"
"He wasn't with his wife when he was with me!" Micky said, desperate to make his devastated ex understand. "You have to believe me, we tried to fight it so badly, neither of us wanted to feel this way but we couldn't help it. You have no idea what we've been through, he-he only ended it because he didn't think he could make me happy, because he knew the damage this could cause."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?!" Samantha screamed.
"I'm trying to explain, please... Please just let me explain." Micky pleaded.
"Get out." Samantha spat vehemently. "I don't want you anywhere near me. Near either of us."
Micky froze, knowing she was referring to her and the baby. "Please don't say that." He begged. "I'm sorry. I'm s-so sorry for lying to you."
"I don't care. I want you out of my house right now." Samantha snapped - she was absolutely devastated.
"I'll still be a good dad." Micky said desperately, reaching out his hands to Samantha again. "P-Please, I'm going to change. I-I'm going to sort out my drinking and I'll stop doing drugs and-"
"Drugs?!" Samantha shouted in dismay, and Micky could only close his eyes and cringe at his stupidity. "This just keeps getting better!"
Micky buried his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry." He said yet again, tears spilling from his eyes. "I've ruined everything."
"Get out." Samantha spat.
Micky looked up at his horrified, pregnant ex-girlfriend and felt absolutely heart-broken.
"Get out!" Samantha screamed.
Micky nodded his head, not wanting to upset Samantha any further, and he quickly left her house. He was totally devastated by the hurt he'd caused, and he knew he couldn't blame Mike for all of it - Micky knew that if he'd have just gotten a grip of himself and continued to give Samantha the attention she needed and deserved then none of this would've happened.
Micky was crushed by his bad choices of the last few months. He was utterly ashamed of himself that he'd managed to let his misery and his inability to cope with his heartache affect so many people. Micky felt totally lost, and he felt he had only one friend to turn to - and that friend was alcohol.
It was 11:30pm when Davy's phone started ringing. The Englishman was about to head up to bed with his fiancée Linda when they were disturbed by the phone call.
"Hello?" Davy asked, wondering who was calling him at this time of night.
"I did- I did what you said." Micky slurred down the phone.
"Micky?"
"I told her. I told her everything. I tried- I tried to make it right but I didn't. I didn't. I made it- I made it wrong. I have- she hates me. I've lost my baby. I've lo-lost everything."
Davy rubbed his head, trying to make sense of Micky's drunken words. "Micky, did you tell Samantha about you and Mike?" He asked, feeling a little panicked.
"She hates me." Micky slurred, his voice shaking. "She doesn't want me near the baby and it's not even here."
"Jesus, Micky..." Davy sighed. "You told her about Mike?"
"She doesn't know it's him!" Micky shouted, causing Davy to hold the receiver away from his ear. "But she knows it's me! She knows I'm disgusting. She knows. She knows I'm a fag. I'm a dirty fag. I'ma-I'm a slut."
Davy felt extremely uneasy. "Micky, don't say that, mate." He said calmly. "Where are you? I'm going to come and see you."
"No. No. Don't. You hate me too." Micky slurred. "I hate me- more. I don't want to be here."
"Don't talk like that, Mick." Davy said sternly, seriously starting to worry about his friend's mental state. "Are you at home? Because I'll come see you right now and we can talk."
"I don't like being here any- anymore."
"You're at home, yeah?" Davy asked.
"I'm going out." Micky stated.
"I don't think that's a good idea, man." Davy warned.
"I want to go out!" Micky shouted.
"Okay, okay." Davy said quickly, trying to reason with his drunken friend. "Well wait for me and we can go out together, yeah? I can drive us."
"Is-is he happy?" Micky asked.
Davy frowned. "Is who happy?"
"I want him to be happy. I don't want him to-to be like me." Micky said miserably - Davy thought he sounded totally broken. "He's better than me."
Davy figured that Micky was talking about Mike, but he didn't know how to respond; he feared if he said that Mike was happy, it would upset Micky even more to know that Mike was happy without him.
"Mick, just sit tight, will ya? I'll be with you in 5 minutes, okay?" Davy said.
"No. Y-You hate me."
"No I don't, Micky. I don't hate ya, mate." Davy stressed.
There was a long pause which unsettled Davy further.
"Mick?"
"I don't want to be here. I want t-to go- to go forever."
"Micky, don't say that." Davy said sternly, starting to panic. "You're drunk and I'm coming to see you, okay?"
There was another silence.
"I'm going." Micky said.
"What, putting the phone down? Because I'll be there really soon - really, really soon. Like 5 minutes and I'll be with you, okay? Just stay where you-"
The phone went dead.
"Fuck." Davy muttered, hanging up the phone.
Linda was watching him in concern. "What's the matter with him?"
"He's wasted again." Davy said, sitting down quickly and pulling on his shoes. "Apparently he's told Samantha... I don't even know what he was going on about, but he's totally fucked-up. I need to go see him."
When Davy arrived at Micky's house he was alarmed to notice that Micky's car wasn't in the driveway. Davy parked up and decided to check the house - which was left totally unlocked - but Micky was nowhere to be seen. All that was left were empty drink bottles and remnants of cocaine which Micky had clearly snorted off his kitchen table.
Davy grabbed a key to lock up Micky's house - the last thing Micky needed was to be burgled on top of everything else - and drove off in search of his messed-up friend. Davy was nervous that he would find Micky's car wrapped around a tree, but he figured the first place to look for his friend was the clubs in town.
The first club Davy decided to check was thankfully the place he found Micky - or Micky's car, at least. When Davy pulled into the parking lot behind the club, he was relieved to see Micky's car (very badly) parked. Once Davy had stopped his car, he rushed to Micky's on the off-chance the curly haired man was still inside it. Like Micky's house, the car was also totally unlocked with the keys still in the ignition - and Davy noticed there were some pretty nasty scratches down the side and the wing-mirror was broken, although he was relieved that the damage wasn't worse considering the amount of alcohol Micky clearly had in his system when he had driven it.
Davy rushed into the club looking for Micky, hoping that he hadn't wandered off elsewhere. Davy looked around frantically until he spotted the curly haired man; Micky was standing in the middle of the room looking vacant, a drink in either hand.
Davy rushed over to his drunken friend. "Micky, what the hell are you playing at?!"
Micky merely looked at Davy through watery eyes.
"You can't go taking off in your car in this state!" Davy stressed, trying not to shout as he didn't want to cause a scene. "You could've killed someone, you could've killed yourself!"
"I went slowly. I went really slowly." Micky slurred. "I'm a- I'm a good driver."
Davy rolled his eyes. "I think we should go home." He said.
"No!" Micky shouted, causing a few people to look in the pairs direction.
"Micky, you're a mess. Again." Davy said on the quiet. "You'll probably end up getting chucked out of here soon enough anyway."
"No I won't." Micky hit back arrogantly. "He wouldn't do that. He likes me."
Davy frowned. "Who likes you?"
Micky ignored Davy, and he was swaying on the spot so vigorously that he started to spill his drinks.
"For god's sake, Micky." Davy said in an annoyed tone. He took one of the drinks from Micky's hand.
"Why don't you leave me alone?" Micky asked, pointing at Davy dramatically. "You don't even- even like me."
Davy sighed. "I told you that's not true. I'm trying to help you, you idiot!"
"I don't need help!" Micky shouted. He held his arms wide and begun addressing the entire club. "I'm fine. Do you hear that? I'm fine!"
People were beginning to stare and Davy was starting to feel embarrassed.
"You didn't sound fine on the phone earlier." Davy snapped. "You sounded like you were at breaking point. Why else do you think I'm here?"
"Is this guy hassling you, Micky?" A voice asked.
Davy turned around and saw a man who he only faintly recognised - it was Tony.
"Who the fuck are you?" Davy asked, looking Tony up and down.
Tony stepped beside Micky, who had suddenly gone quiet in the older man's presence. Tony put his hand on Micky's back in a chummy manner. "I'm a friend of Micky's." He replied casually.
Davy glanced at Micky and noticed he seemed a little uncomfortable. "That's funny," Davy begun. "Because he's never mentioned you before."
Tony turned his head to stare directly at Micky. "Well we're pretty close, aren't we?" He asked.
Micky nodded his head unconvincingly.
Davy narrowed his eyes. "Oh, well if you're such a good friend then you'll tell him he needs to come home right now." He said.
"Why?" Tony asked before looking at Micky again. "You're just having fun, aren't you, Mick?"
Micky took a rather large mouthful of his drink.
"Look, I don't know who the hell you are, but this really doesn't concern you." Davy said bluntly. "I'm just trying to be a mate."
"Well Micky's a big boy, I'm sure he can look after himself." Tony said smugly.
Davy sneered. "Well I'm sure he can speak for himself, too."
Tony looked to Micky expectantly. "What do you want to do then, Micky?" He asked. "Do you want to stay here and have some fun with me, or do you want to go home with...this guy?"
Davy was a little disturbed by the way Tony was looking at Micky; he was virtually ogling him.
Micky moved away from Tony, much to Davy's initial relief, but he didn't end up giving the answer Davy hoped for. "I want to stay here." He announced.
A dirty, satisfied smirk covered Tony's face. "Good boy." He said before looking down at Davy. "You run along now. I'll take care of Micky for you."
Davy scowled at Tony. "You can see what a state he's in. Why the hell are you encouraging him?"
Tony laughed. "Micky is capable of making his own decisions, and he decided to stay here with me."
"I want another drink." Micky slurred, causing Davy to cast his eyes to the ceiling in defeat.
"It's too busy in here." Tony said, stepping closer to Micky. "Come to my office and I'll get you a drink there."
Tony put his hand on Micky's back again in what appeared to be an innocent, friendly manner that wouldn't draw attention from the other club-goers. Davy, however, felt there was much more to this than Tony simply being Micky's 'friend'.
Tony started to lead Micky off, but Davy rushed up to them. "Micky, I'm not sure this is a good idea, man." He said, reluctant to leave Micky alone - especially seeing as his car was still parked outside, and Davy certainly didn't want Micky taking off in it again when he was even more fucked-up than he had been before.
Tony looked like he'd lost patience with Davy, and he paused as he glared down at the shorter man. "Back off." He snapped aggressively. "Leave him alone or I'll get you thrown out of here."
Davy looked towards Micky in hope that he'd see sense and leave. But Micky looked totally gone; it looked like the lights were on, but nobody was at home.
Davy was left totally helpless as Tony and Micky walked off. Davy was so frustrated that Micky didn't seem to listen to him, and he'd had enough of his friend's reckless behaviour.
Davy headed out into the lobby and asked to use the phone. He knew this was a huge risk, but he didn't know what else to do. Davy held the receiver to his ear and tapped his foot nervously as he waited for someone to answer. After several rings, Davy heard a voice that he hadn't heard for a while.
"Hello?"
"Mike, it's Davy."
"Davy? What the- it's nearly 1am."
"I need you to meet me." Davy said quietly, not really wanting anyone to overhear this conversation.
"Why? Where are you?" Mike asked.
"I'm at the Atomic nightclub. I need you to come as soon as you can."
"I ain't going to no club." Mike asked.
"I'm not asking you here for a drink and a catch-up!" Davy snapped. "I need your help."
There was a short silence.
"Are you in some sort of trouble?" Mike asked seriously.
"Not exactly, but... Look, just trust me on this one, will you?" Davy asked, getting seriously frustrated. He didn't want to discuss Micky over the phone in case someone overheard. "I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't have to. I know we haven't spoken in months but I'm speaking to you now and if I only ever ask you to do one thing then I'm asking you to do this."
There was another silence which infuriated Davy.
"Okay." Mike finally said.
Davy closed his eyes and sighed with relief. "I'll be waiting in the parking lot 'round the back, okay?"
"Okay." Mike said reluctantly. "But Davy? This better be good."
"Just get here as soon as you can, alright?"
Davy put down the phone, relieved and a little shocked that Mike had agreed to come with no explanation. Davy and Mike had always had their ups and downs; they butted heads constantly due to them both being proud and incredibly stubborn. On the other hand, Davy always had the feeling that Mike was the kind of guy to turn to in a crisis, and the fact that the Texan had agreed to come to his friend's aid in the middle of the night with no explanation whatsoever proved Davy right.
Davy paced the parking lot anxiously as he waited for Mike to arrive. Davy wondered if he'd done the right thing; he knew Micky had made him promise to never tell Mike that he knew about their relationship, but Davy also knew that if Micky carried on the way he was going then Mike knowing the truth would be the least of his worries.
About 15 minutes later, Mike arrived. Davy hurried over as Mike got out of his car.
"What the hell is going on?" Mike questioned as he shut his car door - he didn't look particularly thrilled to be there.
Davy grabbed hold of Mike's arm and dragged him to a quiet corner. There was pretty much no one around anyway, but Davy didn't want to take any chances of being overheard.
"Davy, what the hell? Are you in trouble?" Mike asked again. This time he looked seriously concerned.
Davy released Mike from his grasp. "I'm not in trouble, no. But I think Micky might be."
The street light above gave away enough light for Davy to see the colour drain from Mike's face.
"What are you talking about?" Mike asked in a calm tone.
"He's a mess, Mike. He's been going downhill for weeks now, but I think he might've finally reached rock bottom." Davy told him.
Davy could've sworn he saw a flicker of fear in Mike's eyes, but the Texan was working hard to keep a calm exterior. "What's wrong with him?" He asked.
"What's wrong with him? That's his car over there, he drove here absolutely drunk off his arse; he's lucky he didn't kill himself." Davy replied. "You know what he used to be like, partying that bit harder than everyone else. Well he's like that again now only a thousand times worse. I don't even remember the last time I saw him when he wasn't drunk or hung-over."
Mike simply stood there staring down at Davy as if he wasn't sure whether he believed the Englishman or not.
Davy was starting to get seriously frustrated. "You really have been burying your head in the sand, haven't you?" He asked in disbelief. "He's falling apart, Mike. He's pushing everyone away, he's completely blown it with Samantha and I need you to try and get through to him."
"Why me?" Mike asked.
"Because you're the reason he's in this mess in the first place!" Davy snapped.
The Texan stepped forward, squaring up to the much shorter man. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He growled.
"Oh pull the other one!" Davy spat, standing his ground. "I know. I've known for months. And before you ask, Micky didn't tell me shit - I found out when we were on tour. You should really learn to shut hotel room doors properly, you know."
Davy could see the horror in Mike's eyes, and the Texan grabbed Davy by the jacket almost threateningly.
"I know everything." Davy said again, unafraid of the tall Texan. "While you've been busy playing happy families, Micky's been totally screwing his life up. You should know by now that he doesn't deal with things very well."
Mike released Davy from his grasp, taking a step back.
"But I didn't get you to come here for some friendly chit-chat." Davy said, smoothing down his jacket. "I need you to try and get through to him because he won't listen to me."
Mike turned away, running his fingers through his hair in distress. "What makes you think I can help him?" He asked, his voice trembling.
"Because I don't know what else to do!" Davy said, raising his voice a little. "He's in that club right now doing cocaine with some absolute creep."
Mike turned to look at Davy in total horror at the mention of cocaine.
"Oh, did I forget to mention that part?" Davy asked sarcastically. "On top of everything else, Micky is also a raging coke-head."
Mike stepped forward, squaring up to Davy again. "You're lying." He hissed.
"Well why don't you go in there and see for yourself?" Davy said through gritted teeth, trying hard not to raise his voice again - he didn't want to draw attention to them.
Mike stepped back, his harsh exterior faltering - Davy could see the Texan was genuinely frightened.
"Look, I don't know if it's a full-blown problem yet." Davy said, a lot calmer than before. "But if he carries on the way he's going then it will be. He's getting himself into all sorts of trouble."
Mike rubbed his chin as he begun pacing backwards and forwards, and Davy wondered if he'd ever seen his former band mate look so anxious.
"He's with some bloke, I'm pretty sure he runs the club. I think his name is Tony." Davy said in a hushed tone. "I think he's the one who's been giving Micky coke, but I can't be sure. But there's something about all of this that isn't right."
Mike had worry written all over his face. "What do you mean?"
"There was something about the way this guy was looking at Micky... he looked like a total letch." Davy replied on the quiet, looking around nervously. "And there's a couple of things Micky has said to me... I don't know. Something's not right."
Mike was now breathing so heavily that Davy could hear it. "Where is he?" He asked.
"They went to this bloke's office. I was in the club until a couple of minutes before you got here and I didn't see them leave." Davy replied. "Come on, I'll show you."
Mike followed Davy into the nightclub in search of Micky. The two men scanned the room, but neither of them could see Micky.
Davy grabbed Mike by the sleeve of his jacket and pointed ahead. "They went through there." He said.
Davy led Mike through the double doors into the corridor. There were a couple making out up against the wall outside the restrooms, but Davy and Mike ignored them as they followed the corridor around the corner. That was where they saw the 'Staff Only' door.
"I guess they must be through there." Davy sighed.
"Stay here." Mike said in a low tone.
Davy stayed put, half-heartedly keeping guard while Mike went through the 'Staff Only' door, which, to his relief, was unlocked.
Mike carried on down the corridor - there were a few doors off to the side, but at the end of the hallway was a door that read 'Antony Gianni'.
Mike put his ear against the door but he couldn't hear any noise from inside due to the loud music of the club. Mike then thumped his fist loud on the door, to which there was no response. Mike banged on the door again, and this time he heard a voice call back.
"Who is it?" The voice called - it sounded irritated.
Mike was silent, but when the door still wasn't answered he attempted to open it - only it was locked.
"Get lost, I'm in the middle of something!" The voice yelled.
Mike turned away, running his fingers through his hair in distress. Before he had time to think twice, Mike had turned and lifted his leg, kicking his foot against the door so hard that the lock broke and the door flew open. Mike was all ready to storm inside, but instead he froze at the sight in front of him.
There was Micky, shirtless, sitting on a black leather couch, snorting cocaine off a glass table in front of him. A fully clothed man - Tony - was sitting next to Micky, his hands all over Micky's naked upper-half and whispering something into his ear.
Tony leapt off the couch in horror, but it took Micky several moments to realise they weren't alone - he was too out of it to even register that Mike had kicked the door down.
"What the fuck!" Tony shouted, storming around the table in horror. "Who the hell are you?!"
When Mike managed to tear his eyes off of Micky to look at Tony striding towards him, he saw red. Mike grabbed Tony by his shirt and shoved him backwards with incredible force, slamming him into the wall so hard that the room seemed to shake.
Mike pressed his right forearm across Tony's throat in blind rage. "What have you done to him?" He growled.
"G-Get off me!" Tony managed to say, although Mike's arm pressing on his throat made the words rather difficult.
"If you have touched a hair on his head I swear to God I will break your fucking neck." Mike spat through gritted teeth.
"W-What are you, his pimp or something?" Tony choked.
Mike slammed his left fist into the wall just inches away from Tony's head, causing the older man to close his eyes and flinch in fear. The pain in Mike's hand was cancelled out by his sudden realisation that Tony wasn't the important one here; Micky was.
Mike released Tony from his grasp and immediately turned to Micky. Micky continued to sit there on the couch, looking up at Mike and Tony through watery eyes - Mike wasn't sure if his eyes were watering because of the cocaine or because he was upset.
But Mike was floored by how different Micky looked; he didn't look like his boy at all. Micky was far skinnier than he was before, and Mike could visibly see his ribs poking through his skin. Micky's usually flawless, tanned skin was now pale and his face was blotchy.
What got to Mike most though was Micky's eyes. Those gorgeous almond-shaped eyes that were usually so full of sparkle and life were now cold. They weren't just bloodshot and watery - behind those eyes was nothing. The spark had gone. That youthful energy and excitement for life, that blind-optimism, the hope, the love - it was all gone.
Mike felt a lump rise in his throat, and all he could do was reach his hand out to Micky almost pathetically. "Come on, Mick." He said in a small voice. "Let me take you home."
Micky just sat there staring at Mike as if he wasn't really there.
"Please Mick, let's go home." Mike's voice shook. He reached his hand out further.
"It doesn't look like he wants to." Tony said, deadpan.
Mike shot a glance towards Tony that was filled with the deepest hatred. If Micky wasn't sitting there, Mike was pretty sure he would finish Tony there and then.
But Mike ignored Tony's comment and swallowed hard. "Please, Micky." He said almost desperately. "Come on. Let's go."
Tony walked over to Micky and stood over the curly-haired man, staring at Mike with a satisfied glint in his eye. "Get the message. He wants to stay with me."
The lump rose in Mike's throat. Every part of him wanted to literally drag Micky out of there, but he knew he couldn't. He had no right. He had no right to try and control Micky and dictate his decisions. But what hurt Mike the most was the fact that Micky didn't want to come with him.
"Micky." Mike choked breathlessly, reaching out to his boy one last time. "Please."
"No." Micky finally said, his voice small and groggy.
"You heard him." Tony said, finally losing patience. He approached Mike again and pushed him towards the door. "Get out."
Mike felt helpless, and he allowed Tony to usher him out of the room.
"You should be lucky that I'm not making you pay to fix that door." Tony spat.
Mike couldn't even find the energy to care about Tony anymore - his eyes were still fixed on Micky. Mike looked past Tony into the room to see Micky pick up his glass of whiskey from the table before sitting back and sipping it casually.
Tony finally shoved Mike completely out of the room and shut the broken door behind him. Mike stood there for a few moments, tears threatening his eyes as he tried to compose himself. The Texan swallowed hard before walking back down the corridor.
As Mike turned the corner, he was met with a concerned looking Davy who had been pacing the hall waiting for Mike's return. Davy looked up in surprise when he saw Mike coming without Micky.
"Mike, what happened?" Davy asked.
Mike walked straight past the Englishman.
"Where's Micky? What happened?!" Davy asked as he rushed alongside the tall Texan.
Mike carried on walking, looking straight ahead. "Wait for him." Mike ordered, not looking at Davy.
When Mike shoved through the double doors back into the main club, Davy took the hint that Mike wasn't going to talk. Mike left Davy in the corridor and walked through the club as if he was on auto-pilot, ignoring everything and everyone around him.
Mike went straight back to his car and sped off, wanting to get away from the club as quickly as possible. Mike was still on auto-pilot as he drove, his eyes wide and his heart pounding. When Mike was out of the noise and busyness of the city, he stopped his car along the side of a quiet road and sat there transfixed on nothing as he gripped his steering wheel hard.
Mike sat like this for about a minute, his mind in overdrive. When Mike released the steering wheel from his grasp, he noticed his hands were shaking and his knuckles on his left hand were bruised and bleeding from where he'd punched the wall. Suddenly the image of Micky's fragile and intoxicated state with Tony's hands all over him became too much for Mike to bear, and he found himself freaking out inside his car, kicking his legs and slamming his fists into the dashboard.
Mike punched the dashboard over and over again, attacking the inside of his car with such force that the whole car shook. By the time Mike had finished his outburst, he was crying. Mike was sobbing in a way he had only sobbed once before, and that had been in Micky's arms.
But the pain Mike was feeling now was even worse than the pain he felt after his grandmother had died, because Mike felt like he had broken Micky. Mike felt like he had destroyed the one thing he loved more than anything else.
Mike had suppressed his feelings for the curly-haired man from the moment they broke up. Mike hadn't dealt with his emotions or his grief about the ending of his relationship. Instead he had gotten-by by reminding himself repeatedly that he had done the right thing and that Micky would be better off without him. Mike looked in the mirror every day and said the words; "You did this for Micky." to remind himself of why he had broken his boy's - and his own - heart.
But Davy was right; Mike had buried his head in the sand. Mike had never been much of a social butterfly, and he really hadn't heard on the grapevine about Micky's reckless behaviour. While Mike knew that Micky had a track record of not exactly dealing with things in a healthy way, he had managed to dismiss it and tell himself that Micky would be fine. Mike had foolishly thought that Micky would've listened when he told him to "be good" the day he left.
Mike had been dealing with things one day at a time. Things were far from perfect with his wife; he was fairly certain their marriage was going nowhere, and he wasn't even convinced Phyllis was happy with the way things were. But he knew he had to try. Mike wanted his wife and children to be as happy as they possibly could be, even if he wasn't happy himself. The same went for Micky; Mike had hoped and prayed that Micky would get over him and move on even if Mike couldn't himself.
But Mike was now realising that his attempt to be selfless was actually having the opposite effect. Micky wasn't happy, and he'd seen that for himself now. Mike didn't exactly expect his heart-broken ex-partner to be doing cartwheels just a few weeks after they broke up, but Mike never expected the break-up to affect Micky in such a devastating way.
Mike wasn't happy. Mike hadn't been happy since he left Micky. The only thing that had kept him going was the thought that maybe Micky was happy instead. Learning that that was quite literally the opposite of being the case filled Mike with crippling devastation.