FicWad

Joey's POV

I woke up that morning at eleven. I yawned and looked over to see if Mick was still sleeping. He wasn't in his bed. I looked over to the couch. Not there. My head shot to the bathroom door. The door was open and the light was off. Where the fuck did he go?

I got up and got dressed in my clothes for the day. Nothing special. I looked through my phone. No new texts from anyone. I slipped it in my pocket and walked out into the hall. No Mick out here. I knocked on Corey's door.

"Sup?" He said and peeked out the door.

"Where'd Mick go?" I asked.

"I'm not his baby sitter. And you two share a fucking room. I'd guess you have a better idea than me." He shrugged.

"Well he's not in there, and I didn't hear him leave..." I said and looked around.

"Dude, chill the fuck out. If somebody had to choose between abducting you and him, they'd choose you. You're easier to fucking move." He said and laughed.

"It's not fucking funny, man. He acting weird yesterday." I said, trying to hide my panic.

"Weirder than usual?" He said.

"Shut the fuck up. You know what I meant." I said, half tempted to slap him.

"From the looks of things, he didn't go very fucking far." He said.

"What d'you mean?" I asked.

"He's walking down the damn hall right now, shit head." He chuckled and shut the door.

I looked down the right side of the hall, then the left. I saw Mick and ran over to him and hugged him.

"I thought I los-" I started then let go of him, and cleared my throat. "So uh... Where'd you go?"

"For breakfast..." He said and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Well... er... Did you get me anything?" I said and tried to play off hugging him by punching him lightly in the arm.

"I have a soda I don't want. You can have it." He said, the weirded out expression glued to his face.

"Coke?" I asked.

"Pepsi." He said and handed me the drink.

"Gross." I said and grimaced at the cup.

"You're the one who wanted something." He shrugged and walked away.

What was wrong with him? Did the hug make him uncomfortable? He was usually a more stimulating conversation. I followed him to our room, because his odd behavior was making me uneasy. Uneasy and scared. Not scared for me, scared for him. He was generally talkative, about anything. Even boring shit. But he was also a thinker. It seemed like now he was doing more zoning out than thinking, and more thinking than talking. He is one of my best friends, and I will figure out what's going on. I walked into the room, and noticed just how messy two grown men could make a hotel room. I shut the door and sat down beside him on the couch.

"Hey." I said and looked over at him. He simply nodded in response. "What's going on?" I said, turning toward him in a serious fashion.

"Um... Nothing... I'm just sitting on a couch trying to watch television but my friend keeps talking over the tube." He said and rolled his eyes slightly.

"No, I meant what's going on as in you're acting funny and I don't like it." I said.

"S'not my fault I'm fucking hysterical." He said and still refused to look at me.

"Hey! I'm being serious here! What's wrong?" I asked.

"Fucking nothing! Stop asking me fucking questions! Jesus H fucking Christ!" He said and returned my serious gaze with an irritated glare.

"Is it girl problems?" I persisted.

"Hardly." He scoffed.

"Then what is it?!" I demanded.

"FUCK OFF! IF I NEEDED A DAMN THERAPIST, I HAVE THE DAMN MONEY TO PAY FOR ONE, SO I'D GET ONE! FUCKING A!" He said and threw his arms up.

"No need to be a fucking douche bag! I was just fucking wondering!" I said and turned away from him.

"Well DON'T! I DON'T NEED SOMEBODY TO FUCKING WORRY, OKAY?!" He yelled.

"It's what a fucking brother does! If there's something wrong, I want to help make it fucking better! I can't fucking stand to see you like this, because I feel like I can't fucking help!" I said and started to storm out of the room. "And if you feel like you may actually need to talk before the show, text me." I said and left the room.

I walked down the hall and walked outside in the snow, wearing a tee shirt. Damn it. I was so upset I forgot my coat. Maybe I'd freeze to death. I'm warming up to that idea. I walked around the town with my arms folded up against my chest. Why wouldn't he talk to me? Had I pissed him off? Did I do something to make him not trust me? I shivered. Maybe he thinks I'm gay because I like being around him.

I am not gay. I could not be gay. I've slept with a bunch of women. A bunch of unattractive women... Not all women are unattractive... Yes they are... What am I thinking? Girls are hot. No, they're really not. Yes they are, hence the reason I've had sex with a lot of them. I didn't enjoy it, though...

I AM NOT GAY. I've had girlfriends. I've never had a boyfriend. I am not gay. Guys aren't hot. Well... Mick is kinda cute... NO. HE. IS. NOT. Asian girls are cute! Mick Thompson is not cute material! That's right.. Because he's sexy... NO, HE REALLY ISN'T! SCANTILY CLAD WOMEN ARE SEXY!

I walked around, my mind fighting itself. I was trying hard not to go fucking postal. I wanted to rip my brain out and exchange it for one that worked right. Fuck. I'm only like this because Mick mind fucked me back in the hotel. He got his word sperm all over my brain and now I can't think right.

I wanted to throw something. Or kick something. Maybe slappaho.

I walked into a subway, and got a foot long. I set half to the side, and beat the shit out of the half that was in front of me. To my surprise, I didn't feel any better. I considered fucking up the other half, but I was hungry.

Half way through the second half, I stopped chewing and thought about my current situation. I have had three inches of meat in my mouth so far. I gave the sandwich a disapproving look. It was fucking mocking me. I wrapped the beaten and quarter eaten sandwich up in the paper it came in, threw it out and left the store.

I have a lot to think about...