Davy continued pacing the hall at the club as he waited for Micky to emerge from Tony's office. Davy wasn't sure how long it had been since Mike had left - 10 minutes at the very least - when Micky finally came into sight.
"Micky." Davy said, rushing up to him.
Micky walked slowly, his eyes red and tired - he looked more sober than before, but there was very little life behind his eyes. Davy thought that for someone as tall as Micky - a little over 6 feet tall - he looked exceptionally small. His body language and the way he was moving made him look almost childlike. Davy thought that Micky looked like a totally broken man.
"Are you okay?" Davy asked gently as the two friends met each other.
"Can you take me home?" Micky asked in a small, quiet voice.
Davy nodded. "'Course I can." He replied. He put his hand on Micky's back and guided him along the corridor and back out into the club.
Davy and Micky didn't speak until they were inside Davy's car.
"Don't worry about your car, I'll get someone to pick it up in the morning." Davy assured the curly-haired man as he started the engine.
Micky nodded his head absent-mindedly, and Davy wasn't even sure that his friend had even heard or understood what he'd said.
"Can I come to your house?" Micky asked quietly. "I don't think I should- I should be on my own."
Davy was slightly disturbed by that comment, but he'd already decided that he would be bringing Micky back to his and Linda's. "Of course you can." He replied. "There was no way I'd take you back to yours like this."
Micky nodded his head before resting it against the window. Davy shot his friend a worried glance before pulling out of the parking lot and driving home.
Micky and Davy didn't speak on the short drive home. Davy had been tempted to quiz Micky on what the deal was with Tony, or what had happened with Mike, but he realised that now certainly wasn't the time - Micky looked mentally exhausted and Davy certainly didn't want to distress Micky any more.
A concerned Linda was waiting up when Davy and Micky arrived home. Micky asked for a shower and borrowed a pair of Davy's pyjamas before going straight to bed in the spare bedroom that he'd slept in before.
When Micky woke up the next morning he felt utterly numb. He felt completely drained of emotion and energy and his mind was totally spaced out. Micky laid awake for ages before finally mustering enough energy to drag himself out of bed and head downstairs, knowing that he needed to face his friends.
Micky walked into the kitchen to find Davy sitting at the table and Linda at the sink. The couple paused as Micky entered the room.
"Alright, mate?" Davy asked. He was trying to sound chipper, but Micky could definitely detect a hint of concern in his voice.
Micky nodded awkwardly before pulling out a chair and sitting down opposite Davy.
"Do you want a drink, Micky?" Linda asked gently.
"Just some water, please." Micky replied quietly, his voice sounding dry and his throat feeling sore.
Linda poured a glass of water and handed it to the curly-haired man. "Can I get you something to eat?" She asked. "You look like you haven't had a good meal in ages."
"Not at the moment, thank you." Micky replied in a very small, almost bashful voice. He took a small sip of water.
Linda gave Micky a sympathetic smile and nodded her head. She then turned to Davy. "I'm going to leave you two alone." She said.
Davy gave his fiancée a gentle smile. "Thanks, love." He said.
Linda squeezed Davy's shoulder before leaving the two friends alone.
"How are you feeling, Mick?" Davy asked after a short silence. He visibly cringed at the dumb question.
"I don't really know." Micky replied honestly, staring at the table top with vacant eyes.
Davy sighed. "This has got to stop, Micky." He said. "You gave us a right scare last night. You took off in your car, do you remember that?"
Micky felt incredibly ashamed, and he nodded his head. "I did drive really slow, but I know that's no excuse." He said in that same small voice. "I shouldn't have done that."
"No, too right you shouldn't." Davy folded his arms. Micky continued to stare at the table. "Linda got one of her friends to give her a lift down there this morning. She drove your car home for ya, so you don't have to worry about that."
Micky looked up. "She didn't have to do that." He said, feeling guilty that other people seemed to be tidying up his mess.
Davy shrugged. "It doesn't matter." He said. "You should just think yourself lucky that you're even alive. You could've killed yourself, Micky."
"I know." Micky said quietly, hanging his head again.
Davy sighed, sitting back in his chair.
"Did I dream it?" Micky asked after another short silence.
Davy was clearly confused. "Dream what?"
Micky looked up. "Mike... did I imagine it?" He asked. He felt disorientated and wasn't sure what was real or not. "Was he there? Did he...did he see me?"
"No, you didn't imagine it." Davy sighed. "I called him and asked him to come. I'm sorry, but you wouldn't listen to me and I didn't know what else to do."
Micky stared ahead as he tried to process his thoughts. As real as his memory of Mike seemed, he'd almost convinced himself that he'd hallucinated the whole thing.
"What happened, Micky?" Davy asked, leaning forward. "What happened when Mike found ya?"
Micky started to space out as he recalled the look on Mike's face. Knowing that the incident was real and Mike really had seen him with Tony made Micky's blood run cold. That look in the Texan's eyes had been real, and although Micky's memories of the previous night were blurry at best, the image of Mike's face was as clear as day in his head.
"He saw me." Micky said in little more than a whisper, his voice dripping in shame. "He saw me with Tony."
Davy looked uneasy. "What did he see, exactly..?"
Micky remained silent, his tired eyes wide as he stared ahead.
"This Tony... is it him you've been buying cocaine from?" Davy wondered.
Micky finally regained focus and looked at Davy for a moment. "Not exactly." He replied before he started to pick at his fingernail.
"What do ya mean?" Davy asked.
"I haven't been paying him." Micky replied in a voice that was a little more stable than before. "I'd always offer to pay him, but he didn't want my money."
Davy's discomfort intensified. "What did he want then..?" He asked with a hint of dread in his voice.
Micky looked up. "Me." He replied.
Davy's shoulders slumped in a defeated fashion, although he didn't look overly surprised by Micky's revelation. "Micky."
"I just went along with it." Micky admitted sadly.
"So you... you slept with him?" Davy asked, trying hard to stop his face from revealing the obvious disgust he felt.
"Not always." Micky replied quietly, looking down again. "Sometimes he'd be happy with...you know, other stuff."
Davy sighed. "So what, do you fancy him or something?" He asked, clearly trying to understand. "Do you...like him?"
Micky looked up and shook his head. "No. No, not at all." He replied honestly. "But...but sometimes he'd say things that'd make me feel good. He'd say these nice things to me, and... but most of the time he made me feel small. He made me feel weak and pathetic. But I kept going back."
"Why?" Davy asked in disbelief.
Micky shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know." He whispered. "I wanted what he could give me. The drugs, I mean... it was just really easy. I didn't know where else to get it and I always knew where to find him. I know I could've paid him with money, or tried harder to... it's not like I can't afford it."
Davy rubbed his face with his hands. "So why didn't you? If he made you feel shit about yourself, why did you keep going back?"
"Because I don't like myself." Micky admitted, looking down again and picking at his fingernail. "And...and... I don't know. I think I wanted to punish myself."
"Punish yourself for what?" Davy questioned, leaning forward.
"For everything. For being so weak and pathetic and stupid, for pushing Mike away..." Micky trailed off. Saying the words out loud made him realise how utterly crazy he'd been. He looked up at Davy again. "I was going to stop. The night before last, I... I had a bad night. It uh, it wasn't very nice. And I thought that was the final straw, I thought I was going to get myself sorted out. That's why I went to see Samantha, I-I wanted to put things right. But in the end I just made everything even worse..." Micky rubbed his head as he recalled his confrontation with his pregnant ex. "You should've seen her face." He said quietly. "It was like I broke her heart all over again. I tried to explain everything, why I haven't been around... But she hates me, Davy. She said she didn't want me near either her or the baby."
Davy scratched his head. "So you told her about you and Mike?" He asked.
"I told her I think I'm gay." Micky replied. "And that I was in love with a man and had been with a man... but I didn't tell her it was Mike. Things were bad enough without her knowing that too. And I..I couldn't do that to him."
Davy was silent, causing Micky to look up. "She hates me." Micky whispered. "I've totally blown it... She's not gonna let me see my baby, and I don't blame her. I wouldn't let me see my baby either."
Davy tilted his head to the side sympathetically. "She might come round." He said, not entirely convincing. "She's had a big shock, she probably just needs some time to...absorb everything."
Micky wasn't convinced, and suddenly his numbness was replaced with sadness. "I've lost everything." He whispered.
"No you haven't, mate." Davy reassured him. "You can fix this."
"My mom hates me, she was yelling at me on the phone yesterday because I missed my little sister's play." Micky said, his voice shaking. "My friends all think I'm a freak. Now I've lost Samantha and the baby too... My baby isn't even here and I've already managed to stuff up being a dad. And Mike..." Micky trailed off, chewing the inside of his lip. "You didn't see the look on his face. You didn't see the way he looked at me."
Davy sighed sadly. "He didn't say anything before he left. You know, after he saw ya..."
Micky hung his head sadly, trying desperately to keep what little composure he had.
"You can put things right." Davy assured him. Micky looked up at Davy through watery eyes. "With Samantha, I mean... You just need to convince her that you'll change."
"How can I do that?" Micky asked quietly. He opened his arms and looked down at himself. "Look at me. I'm a mess." He said, his voice still trembling. "My body's a mess, my head's a mess... I wake up late in the afternoon and I have a drink straight away, I've hardly been eating, I've been sleeping around... I don't even know who I am anymore."
Davy put his hands on the table and leaned forward. "But you'll get better." He stressed. "It's not too late to fix this. I've already spoken to Linda and you're going to stay with us for a few days until you get yourself sorted out."
Micky frowned as he looked at his friend sadly. "You think I need babysitting." He said in a small voice.
"To tell you the truth yeah, yeah I do." Davy admitted. "You can have a few days here just taking it easy. No booze, no drugs. Just resting and getting some good food into ya. All you need is to look after yourself a little. The reason you're feeling so fucked up is because you've been drunk constantly for the past few weeks; that's all going to take its toll eventually, and all you need is to give yourself a break. Then, when you're feeling a bit better, you can spend Christmas with your family and then try to put things right with Samantha."
Micky was silent as he took in everything Davy had said. He was touched by his friends offer - well, order - to stay with him, and Micky had to admit it didn't sound like a bad idea.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Micky asked gently. "I've acted like such a dick."
"Yeah, but like you said, you're messed up." Davy replied. "And you need a bit of help. I'm just trying to look out for you, man. This isn't you. This isn't who you are. This isn't the Micky everyone knows and loves. But we'll get you back, mate. You just need to go easy on yourself."
Micky looked down - he was beginning to feel quite emotional and he really didn't want to cry in front of his friend; he felt pathetic enough as it was. Micky nodded his head slowly, biting his lip as he tried to keep himself together.
"I can't believe its Christmas soon." Micky said sadly, playing with his hands. "I have no Christmas tree and I haven't even brought any presents yet."
"Well there's still time." Davy assured him. "Maybe you and me can do a bit of shopping tomorrow? There's still a few last things I need to get. You can take it easy today and if you're feeling up to it we can go tomorrow."
As grateful as Micky was for Davy's help and friendship, he couldn't help but feel like a big baby. He was incredibly embarrassed, not just about his behaviour of the past few weeks but of the way he was feeling right now. Micky felt fragile and emotional and he didn't feel like much of a man at all.
"Thanks." Micky said quietly, unable to look at his friend.
"You'll be fine after a couple of good night's sleep and a few good meals." Davy said confidently. "Once you've got all that shit out of your system you'll be back to your old self again."
Micky managed to look up. "I hope so." He said. "I'm tired of feeling like this. I don't like who I've become... I don't want to be like this anymore."
"You have control over this." Davy told him. "Now you've reached the bottom, you can bounce back up again."
Micky managed a small smile before his face fell again. "My mom hates me though." He said sadly.
"No she doesn't." Davy sighed. "You just need to explain, that's all. She's your mum - she won't hate ya. She's just worried about you."
"How can I explain? I can hardly tell her about Mike, can I?" Micky asked, getting frustrated that nothing could ever be easy.
"Maybe you don't have to tell her every last detail, but you can give her the general jist, can't ya?" Davy asked.
Micky pondered what Davy had said - he had a point. Micky nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah... maybe that'll work." He said.
"Look, don't stress yourself out, alright?" Davy asked. "Don't think too much. Just take things one step at a time."
Micky nodded slowly as he absorbed Davy's words. The two men were silent for a few moments until Micky spoke up again. "Thank you, Davy." He said, blushing a little as the words left his mouth.
Davy laughed a little awkwardly. "What for?"
"For being here for me." Micky said, unable to look Davy in the eye.
Davy cleared his throat, obviously not expecting the conversation to take this turn. "It's er, it's alright, innit?" He said, trying to act like it was no big deal. "I'm just being a mate."
"Yeah, but..." Micky trailed off, sensing Davy's slight awkwardness. Micky knew he didn't really need to say anymore, and he simply lifted his head to look his friend in the eye. "Thanks."
Davy shrugged his shoulders, and Micky noticed the Englishman looked a little embarrassed. "It's alright." He said.
Micky actually managed to smile as he started to pick at his fingernail again. "You must think I'm a total head-case." He sniffed before managing to let out a little laugh.
"Yeah, but I thought that already; you've always been a nutter." Davy joked.
Micky laughed genuinely this time. "That's true." He said.
"Look, I'm more than happy with you staying here for a few days, but seriously, you're gonna have to go home and get some clothes of your own," Davy begun. "Because my pyjamas look really stupid on you."
Micky looked down at himself - the sleeves were several inches too short, but it was the length of the legs that looked the funniest. "Yeah," Micky laughed. "I think I need to shrink a bit."
Davy stood up before slapping Micky on the arm in a friendly manner. "Come on, how about I make us some grub?" He suggested. "Or better still, I'll get Linda to rustle up something scrummy. We all know she's a much better cook than I am. Once you've had a few first-class meals from my Linda, you'll be feeling as right as rain again."
A genuine smile crossed Micky's lips. "I like that idea." He said.
A little later that day, Davy and Micky went to Micky's house so he could collect a few things. It only took Micky about five minutes to shove a few items of clothing and a couple of bathroom essentials into a weekend bag, and when he returned downstairs he found Davy attempting to tidy up the lounge.
"You don't have to do that." Micky sighed when he saw Davy with a garbage bag cleaning up some of the empty drinks bottles that were laying about the place.
"I thought I might as well make myself useful while I wait for ya." Davy replied, nonchalant. He picked up another bottle and shook it to see if it was empty. "You really have been knocking it back, haven't ya? I'm surprised you've managed to stay so skinny, most people would've ballooned drinking that much."
Micky looked away, feeling a little embarrassed. The place really did look a mess. "I haven't been eating much." He muttered.
Davy shoved another couple of empty bottles into the bag before gesturing to the weekend bag that Micky was holding. "You're going to think I'm a right twat, but I'm going to need to check that, mate." He said.
Micky looked down at his bag and frowned in confusion. "Why?" He asked, totally perplexed.
"To make sure you ain't got anything in there that you shouldn't have." Davy said, putting the trash bag down.
Micky was still confused - he had no idea what Davy was talking about. "Like what?"
"Like cocaine." Davy said, raising his eyebrows. "I need to make sure you haven't got any little stashes hidden away in there."
Micky felt genuinely offended. "I haven't." He stressed, plopping the bag onto the couch and looking inside. "It's just clothes and stuff."
"I'm sorry, but I need to see for myself." Davy said, approaching the bag. "I wouldn't be doing a very good job of getting you straight if I didn't check." He paused, looking up at Micky. "I don't mean 'straight' as in not gay, I mean straight as in clean."
Micky stared at his friend, and he couldn't blame Davy for being suspicious. "Fine." He conceded. "But there's nothing in there. I'm not a drug addict, you know."
Davy carefully removed the clothes from Micky's bag and made sure he patted them down flat to make sure Micky hadn't hidden anything away inside of them. Micky felt embarrassed and rolled his eyes at Davy's thorough check, and even when the bag was empty Davy picked it up and stuck his head inside to make sure there were no secret hiding places.
"Are you finished?" Micky asked, feeling a little insulted.
Davy plopped the now empty bag back onto the couch. "Yeah, I think you're good."
"Well I did tell you that already." Micky said, folding his arms. "I don't have any more. I...I think I used it all last night. I don't have any left."
"Good. That better be right." Davy said as he picked up a few of Micky's clothes and shoved them back into the bag. "We can't risk you being tempted by anything, can we?" Davy paused when he picked up something else. "Isn't this Mike's?" Davy asked as he unfolded the white Triumph t-shirt.
Micky stepped forward and pulled the shirt out of Davy's hands. Davy looked up at his friend and sighed. "Micky." He said, tilting his head to the side.
Micky looked down at the t-shirt in his arms. "It's not a big deal." He said, feeling embarrassed once again.
"So you're not over him then?" Davy asked - although it didn't sound like much of a question.
Micky looked up in confusion.
"You told me a couple of weeks ago that you were over him." Davy said, raising his eyebrows. "That you didn't love him or give a shit about him anymore."
Micky was surprised. "I don't remember that." He said quietly.
"No, I don't suspect you do." Davy said. "Not that I believed you, mind."
Micky looked down at the t-shirt in his hands. "I can't help it." He muttered.
"Look, I know it's tough, but you really need to move on." Davy told him.
"I've tried." Micky said, looking up. "I've tried to move on. I've been with- I've been with other people, but nothing works."
"Have you been with other men?" Davy asked a little awkwardly. "Other than Tony, I mean."
Micky nodded his head. "Yeah. Don't ask me how many because I don't even remember." He said with a hint of bitterness - although the bitterness wasn't directed at Davy.
An uncomfortable silence fell on the pair.
"Well this is a bit awkward, but let's just brush right past it," Davy said, doing a sweeping action with his hands. "Look, maybe, you know, sleeping around isn't the answer. You can move on without moving on to someone else, you know. You just need to focus on something else. This is the perfect time for a fresh start; it's nearly Christmas and it'll soon be the New Year. New Year, new start, new baby - you've got a lot to focus on instead of Mike. You broke up nearly three months ago, Micky."
Micky scratched his head. "I just can't seem to shake it." He admitted. "I just... I fucking miss him, man. Half the guys I've been with I've tried to pretend that it's Mike I'm with. I know it's weird and stupid and probably a bit creepy too, but I can't help it."
Davy went silent again. He scratched his head awkwardly. "Let's just brush past that as well..." He said, doing the sweeping motion again - he was clearly uncomfortable but trying his best to power through it. "I don't really know what to say apart from that you need to get a grip, Micky. Hanging on to one of his t-shirts? Come on, man. You should know that's not helpful."
Micky looked away. "It's nice..." He said sheepishly.
"You know what else is nice? Not being hung-up on someone you can't have." Davy said, and Micky's head snapped in his direction. "I'm sorry, mate, but it's true. This whole self-pitying thing needs to stop. You need to let go, man, because you're not doing yourself any favours."
Micky knew Davy was right, but it still wasn't easy for him to accept. He felt pretty stupid, too. Micky was quiet for a moment. "What did he uh, what did he say when you saw him..?" He asked tentatively. "I mean, when you told him you knew about everything."
"Not a lot, really." Davy replied, sitting down. "He was angry, but he didn't say much. I called him and told him to meet me, but I didn't say why at first. And then he came and I explained and... yeah. You know what he's like - he's not exactly a man of many words. For what it's worth, he did look rather worried even though he was trying to hide it."
"I thought he was going to kill Tony." Micky said as he tried to remember everything that happened the night before. "Unless I'm not remembering it right... it all seemed to happen so fast that I don't even know what was real or not. When I woke up this morning I thought I'd imagined it. But he pushed Tony against the wall and I seriously thought he was going to batter him. I've never seen him like that before."
"That might be my fault." Davy confessed. Micky looked at him blankly. "I kind of er, told Mike that it was his fault you were in this mess in the first place..."
Micky was horrified. "Davy, you shouldn't have said that! It's not his fault I'm a screw-up, you can't blame him for my mistakes."
"I know but I had to do something to get a reaction out of him, didn't I?" Davy said in his defence. "And it worked, didn't it? Seeing him obviously knocked some sense into you."
Micky was thoughtful and silent for a few moments. "Do you uh, do you think he's happy? Did he seem happy to you?" He asked nervously.
Davy sighed. "I don't know, Micky." He replied honestly.
Micky's mind was working fast. He sat himself down on the arm of the couch and sighed. "Maybe I should call him... arrange to meet him. I should explain that it's not his fault I've been acting like an idiot lately, and I could find out if he's happy... Maybe if I knew he was okay, it'd be easier for me to be okay too."
"I don't think that's such a good idea, Micky." Davy told him. "It'll just make it even harder."
"You were the one who told me I should learn to face him." Micky hit back, looking at his friend.
"Yeah, but- I meant if you see him out and about, if you cross paths. I didn't mean you should actually arrange to meet him. I can't see that being very productive." Davy warned.
Micky sighed. "I'm so stupid." He admitted. "Why do I have to deal with things so badly? What's wrong with me?"
"Beating yourself up isn't going to help either, Micky." Davy said sternly. "Now seriously, you need to stop this. Everyone copes with things differently."
"Yeah, and my way of coping is by getting totally fucked-up and making everything a thousand times worse." Micky said bitterly.
Davy sighed. "What did I just say? Stop being so hard on yourself! Nobody is perfect, Micky."
"It feels weird not being drunk." Micky admitted. "I could really use a drink now, though."
"Well that's tough." Davy said bluntly. "Getting drunk isn't going to solve your problems."
"No, but it helps me forget about them." Micky sulked, folding his arms.
Davy rolled his eyes. "If you want to sort things out with Samantha and your family then you can't walk around like a drunken mad-man all the time." He said. "You look like a piece of shit as well, that's hardly going to fill Samantha with confidence, is it?"
"I know..." Micky said quietly. "I'm sorry, I'm acting like a baby. Just ignore me."
"You're still hung-over so that's probably why you feel so...emotional." Davy said. "Like I said earlier, a few days of taking care of yourself and you'll feel better again, I'm sure of it. But no drinking."
Micky nodded slowly, knowing full-well that Davy was right. "Yeah... I guess you're right." He admitted.
That day was a strange one for Micky. It was quiet, which wasn't something he had been used to recently. After returning to Davy's house, Micky called his mother and had a heart-to-heart with her, explaining his situation and why he had been such a mess of late. Micky explained that he'd been in a relationship that had fallen apart and that in his attempt to cope with his heart-ache he had turned to alcohol. Micky left out the part about his relationship being with a man, and the part about him using cocaine, but Micky gave his mother as much of the truth as he possibly could under the circumstances.
His mother was upset that he hadn't confided in her sooner, but he told her he couldn't be upfront about his relationship for fear of disapproval regarding his situation with Samantha. In the end, his mother was understanding and sympathetic about her son's troubles, and Micky felt like a weight had been lifted now that he had been honest with his mom - even if he had left out a couple of not-so-minor details.
Linda cooked dinner that night, and it was the first decent meal Micky could remember eating in what felt like weeks. Micky had always either been so hung-over he felt too sick to eat, or too drunk to care about eating. But having a belly full of something other than booze made Micky's body feel significantly better than it had been feeling lately.
The evening was a weird one, too. Micky sat with Davy and Linda in their cosy lounge watching a Christmas movie on TV. Their lounge was lovely; it was decorated for Christmas and had a huge tree in the corner. There was a roaring fire that made the room feel warm and snugly.
Micky couldn't remember the last time he'd had a night in, or the last time he'd sat down to watch a TV show or a movie - or even read a book. It felt strange not being drunk. Micky sat there feeling a little anxious. As the day had gone on, he'd started to feel incredibly weak and tired. He wasn't sure if that was due to the physical abuse he'd been putting his body through for the past few weeks, or whether it was because of his mental pain and his regrets about all the stupid mistakes he'd made recently.
Micky thought about Tony and the way he'd allowed himself to be treated so badly by the older man. After Mike left Tony's office the night before, Tony had propped a chair against the broken door so he and Micky could continue their 'fun' without being disturbed. When Micky thought back, everything seemed so distorted. He was so drunk and in such emotional distress at the time that it was hard for him to figure out what was real and what wasn't. Had Mike really asked Micky to go with him? And why didn't he accept?
Instead, Micky stayed with Tony. Tony had tried to get Micky to give him a blow job, but Micky refused. Tony was initially undeterred thinking that Micky was toying with him. He'd even roughed Micky up a little, shoving his fragile and drunken frame around as if it was some sort of game. Micky almost went through with it in fear of Tony making him do it anyway, but he didn't. In the end, Micky told Tony he "didn't want to do this anymore." Tony looked surprised, but he accepted it; it didn't really seem Tony's style to force or beg.
While Tony allowed Micky to leave, he still left the curly haired man with one final, cutting remark. "You'll be back," He said. "Boys like you are all the same; you're only interested in cock and coke."
Those words had cut Micky like a knife, leaving him feeling even more cheap and ashamed than he was already. Micky was already broken after the day he'd had - his argument with his mother, and his rejection from Samantha - and seeing Mike had made everything even worse. Tony's words, however, were just like rubbing salt into the already painful wound.
Micky felt cold as he reflected on the past few months, and the past few weeks especially. For once he was sober enough to truly process what he had done to himself - and let himself have done to him. Why had he kept going back to Tony and his friends? Why did he continue to drink so heavily and use drugs even though he knew the impact it would have on his relationships? Why didn't he listen to Davy when he was warned about Samantha giving up on him?
Micky felt sad and depressed. He really, really wanted a drink. Micky didn't see himself as having a drinking problem, although he was aware that if he carried on the way he was going he would probably end up a full-blown alcoholic pretty damn soon. The same went for drugs; Micky knew that if he didn't nip his cocaine abuse in the bud now, he could end up on a pretty nasty downward spiral.
Micky looked across to the other couch where Davy sat with Linda. Davy had his arm across the back of the couch, and Linda had her head rested on Davy's shoulder. They looked comfortable and content, and Micky found himself staring at them both in pure envy.
The couple weren't talking. They weren't flirting or kissing or even properly cuddling. They were just close to each other, watching the Christmas movie on TV, enjoying each other's company without needing anything more than just being beside each other. Micky remembered having that with Mike and how he'd never had that with anyone else before. Before being with Mike, Micky had never imagined just being with someone, sitting quietly together like Davy and Linda were right now. Micky felt really sad as he watched the couple, longing to have that closeness with someone again. Not just any old someone though - Micky longed to have that closeness with Mike again. While Micky had constantly missed Mike since they had broken up, he suddenly missed Mike painfully - it hit him like a wave, and Micky suddenly missed Mike so desperately that it was causing him almost almost crippling pain.
Micky sat there trying to fight his feelings, but he eventually started to feel like a bit of an intruder, too. Davy and Linda had been wonderfully welcome, and he did agree that it probably was a good idea for him to stay with the only two people who were aware of his current issues and mental state, but Micky couldn't help feeling like a third wheel.
"I think I'm going to go to bed." Micky said quietly, sitting forward - he knew if he watched Davy and Linda for much longer it would appear pretty damn creepy.
"Oh, already?" Linda asked.
"Yeah, I'm pretty tired." Micky replied. And it was true - he was exhausted.
"Alright, well we'll see you in the morning, yeah?" Davy asked. "And if you're up for it maybe we can do a bit of Christmas shopping."
Micky forced a smile, and he actually felt a little emotional again. Micky really wasn't sure what he would've done without Davy's help, and he was incredibly grateful for his friend's patience and understanding. He nodded his head. "Yeah, hopefully." He said in a small voice.
Micky rose to his feet and realised just how terrible he felt. Now the alcohol was almost completely out of his system, Micky could finally appreciate just how rotten he felt.
"Thanks for everything, guys." Micky said quietly. "I..I really appreciate it."
"It's no bother, Micky." Linda said with a smile.
Micky stood there watching over the couple for a few moments. "Night." He said.
"Night, Micky."