blue ; gallavich

22

MICKEY

Mandy grips my shoulders tightly and wraps her arms around my shoulders. I hold on to her waist securely, realizing that I need her embrace. I missed her comforting warmth. She didn't ask any questions when she saw me at her door, she just held onto me. Then again, what was there to ask? There was no point in asking if I was alright; the answer is obvious.

I'm the fucking opposite.

She releases me from her grasp and sternly says, "I heard about the shit you pulled last night. You need to stop this, Mickey. You've been miserable ever since the whole situation and I've never seen you drink this heavy. I'm fucking worried."

I stare at her, my eyes pathetic and laced with a dark blue coating that reveals my true sadness. How did I let myself get like this? I'm turning into my father. And all because of something that I can't forgive myself for?

"I just-" I pause and rub the bridge of my nose in exhaustion.

"You just what?" Mandy budges.

"I don't know." I shake my head incompetently. "I don't fucking know."

"Well I do. I know that you have to go see Ian. See him before your drinking gets worse. Before you fucking off yourself!" She scolds me. I want to be mad at her so much right now, but I can't because I know she's right. Fuck, even I'm surprised I'm not dead yet.

I stare at her, emotionless and feeling numb. she obviously notices as she gives me a sharp glare and says, "it's like you don't even know how to feel anymore, Mickey. You've just been this fucking rock for the past- what?- four months? You need to see Ian. Learn how to feel again. The most emotion I get from you is when I say Ian's name and you flinch."

"I just don't know how I can face him again. I- I'm not sure why but-" I take a moment to collect my thoughts and look up at Mandy, who's staring at my sympathetically, "-when I saw his lifeless body laying on that fucking floor, blood oozing out of him, the fucking energy stolen from him with his eyes as big as fucking saucers and staring up at me in fear; it's all I've been able to see. I see it every second. And I think about all I could've done to stop this fucking bullshit from happening."

"It's not your fault, Mickey." Mandy reassures me, playing a cold hand on my bicep. "I'm serious." She says after I scoff.

"But-" I cut myself off and look into her remorseful eyes, one hundred excuses running through my mind as I try to choose only one. "After I left his life has been easier. Has he been hurt at all lately? No. He's fucking fine. I did the right thing." I shudder out in a small voice. Though I'm somewhat right, Mandy still isn't convinced that what I did helped anyone in anyway.

"It didn't help him, Mickey. Since you've been hiding from everyone and drinking two times your fucking weight, Ian's been confused on everything. After he recovered a few months ago he would come by here everyday asking if I've seen you and when I had to tell him that I have no clue where you are I was forced to see the sad, disappointed look in his eyes. It fucking killed me, Mick."

"Sorry." I whisper harshly, and I'm not even sure she heard me I'm so quiet.

"Mickey. Ian fucked a girl." Mandy hisses out. My head shoots up as I give her the most disgusted look I've ever made. A girl?!

"A girl." I scoff in disbelief as I run a stressed hand through my oily hair.

"Mhmm." She nods. "I didn't believe it at first either. No one did. He's still gay, don't worry. But your fucking disappearance fucked him up. And he hasn't moved on, either." She sighs sadly, and I give her a look of desperation that makes her shudder.

"I was hanging out with Lip last night when Kev called me. He told me about the fucking scene you made in the bar. When I said your name Ian ran down the stairs and asked me where you were. If you were alright. All I could say was I don't know." She shakes her head in disappointment. "I didn't even know where or how my own fucking brother was. We've all been worried sick, Mickey. And Ian flipped last night when Kev told everyone about the amount of alcohol you consumed, fucking dumbass."

"Kev told you guys?" I ask quietly, still in minor shock about Ian dating a girl.

"Yeah. About how you flipped out of someone even mentioned Ian's name. About how you're becoming fucking Terry. Four fucking bottles of Jack Daniels?! Jesus, Mickey, at this rate you're gonna die before you're thirty." She scolds me, and though I agent admitting it she's right.

"I-" I can't bring words to come out of my mouth. Arguing would be pointless. I lean against the staircase railing and close my eyes in frustration. "I know. I fucked up." I mutter out the two words that I rarely say, and I mean it with all honesty. "I'm sorry."

Mandy hugs me again, wiping her tear-stained face onto my muscle tank- which is actually just an old shirt that I cut the sleeves off of. Mandy pulls away from the worn fabric and let's out a giggle as she asks, "Damn, Mick. Are you allergic to sleeves or something?" I chuckle weakly at her joke as I gently bat her arm and she socks mine in response.

"Do me a favor." She says after a few minutes of silence, and I nod for her to continue. "Stop drinking. I know it's hard but please. I don't want to get the call telling me that you died of alcohol poisoning after driving ten fucking bottles of booze. And if you don't stop then that's where you're headed." She scolds me. I contemplate my decision, but I nod my head anyways. It wouldn't hurt to lay off the whiskey for a while...

After an awkward silence I hear the door burst open as Iggy and Collin walk in. Do they ever separate? Iggy's face lights up as he sees me and Collin gives me a worried look, probably because in the post-hangover position I am currently in I look like shit. Both of them hug me, tell me how worried they were, Collin gives me a long talk about how I need to stop drinking, and in the end I find myself taking a nice shower.

I never thought that I would appreciate soap and a razor as much as I do now, but four months of not showering or shaving can change a person. My face and body and general appearance looks so much nicer as I stare at my sad face in the mirror. In halfway to being the old Mick, but with having gone through the shit I went through, returning to my normal stance is going to be harder then I thought.

Maybe even fucking impossible.