"Micky?" Peter's voice asked softly, snapping him out of his thoughts. Micky smiled and turned to him, but Peter didn't smile back. His eyes darted back and forth between Micky and the pass, a worried look in his eyes.

"It's okay, Peter," Micky said, handing it to him. "Just broke one of the rules but I'm allowed to stay, that's all this says."

He walked away, making his way to a seat and curling up and closing his eyes. He could hear the sound of footsteps walking away from him. He tried his best to focus on the sound of the train chugging along, even though he knew. He knew they were talking about him. He could hear Peter talking in a low voice, presumably to Mike.

And suddenly.

"Hey, Micky," Mike said right beside him. "You up?"

For a second, he considered keeping his eyes closed, pretending he was asleep. If he was asleep, it was almost like he wasn't even there. And if he wasn't there, he wouldn't be a disappointment to anyone.

He groaned slightly as his chest tightened. He rubbed a hand over his chest and his breathing became heavier as his eyes opened slightly.

"Micky?" Mike asked again, prompting him to let out a sigh.

"I-I'm up," he said, leaning against the wall of the train. "It just hurts sometimes, it's normal. Just something to look forward to."

"Micky…" Mike said and it was at that moment that Micky realized he was holding the pass. "Peter said this was yours."

Micky simply shrugged as tears filled his eyes.

"Does it matter?" He asked with a painfilled smile, still trying his best to hold it all together. But it was becoming harder and harder to as time went on.

"Does what matter?"

Micky shrugged again.

"D-does it matter wh-why?" He asked, his voice now shaking. "W-would it change anything if you knew why?"

"Micky…" Mike said softly, rubbing his shoulder. "It's okay. Just breathe."

But breathing wasn't so easy as Micky's chest didn't seem to open up any.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," he continued. "I just wanted to know if you were okay."

Wasn't that obvious? Micky let out a slight laugh and didn't even have the chance to say anything else when a new voice caused him to stop.

"Micky? What is it?"

Micky turned to see both Davy and Peter looking at him. It was at that moment Davy made the realization.

"Y-you told them…" he said quietly.

"They found out," he shrugged, sniffling. All eyes were on him and the attention was making him anxious, and it only made it harder to breathe as his chest tightened even more,

"R-really," Micky stammered. "I'm fine. I'm fine. I…"

And that was when he finally broke. Whether due to the pain in his chest or the embarrassment, that was the moment when the lava-hot tears fell down his face. Mike frowned and wrapped an arm around him, turning him so Micky was now crying into his shoulder.

"It's okay," Mike whispered to him. "It's gonna be okay."

You don't know that, Micky wanted to say. But instead all that came out was:

"Guess I owe you 50, Davy."

Suddenly Peter's attention was on the Brit, who only looked over at Micky.

"Just put it on the tab," he said. "Don't worry about paying."

Micky nodded slowly as Mike continued rubbing his back. And eventually, exhaustion mixed with the pain of the moment, Micky fell asleep, instinctively resting his head on Mike's shoulder.

Micky was failing. It felt like this was the biggest embarrassment of his life, though he knew he had probably felt worse. He was failing, and chemistry, of all subjects. He was failing all his classes but chemistry, that was the kicker. That was the one that stung the most. He had failed, for good this time.

The 18-year-old Micky Dolenz, only a freshman in college, had made the terrible mistake of double majoring that year, in chemistry and architecture. He had made the comment of if he could triple major, he would in his other love: music. But now, only one semester in, Micky didn't know why he even bothered going to college in the first place.

He was in a band with a few friends at the college, something Micky really enjoyed doing. They played gigs at night at a few parties and went to classes in the morning. It seemed to go well and Micky was able to balance both parts of his life, until he suddenly wasn't.

What would his mother say when she found out? He let out a sigh as he felt the tears filling in his eyes. He couldn't think of it, the image of his mother's disappointed face when she found out the truth.

He knew she wouldn't mind. If anything, she'd simply try to help him out. He knew full well that it wasn't her that was going to be ashamed of him. It was going to be himself. He couldn't handle it, he was letting everyone down and he just couldn't seem to do anything right.

Micky knew what he was doing. He knew that if his family knew he had failed them, flunked out of school, he'd never be able to see them again.

He let out a sigh as he made his way toward the bridge, a loose leaf paper held in his shaky hands. His note wasn't much of anything, mostly a thousand "I'm sorrys" to everyone in his life.

He knew what he was doing.

Carefully he pushed it into his pocket as he climbed over and stepped off the edge, allowing himself to disappear within the cold, yet welcoming, water.