FicWad

Frank and Mikey sat in their apartment living room after the rehearsal that afternoon. Mikey had managed to compose himself by the time Ray and Bob returned and the rest of the rehearsal went well after that.

He knew that he would have to eventually tell the other two guys about his problem but that was something he'd worry about later. He could feel Frank's gaze on him and he knew that Frank, intentionally or not, was waiting for some kind of explanation. Mikey fished the pack of cigarettes out of his messenger bag, skillfully removed one and lit it up. He took a few drags before he started to speak.

"I never meant to get into this." He began. He heard Frank shift on the couch. "It just happened. Well, I guess this never really just happens but I found it by chance." He watched as Frank lit up a cigarette as well.

"I was so unhappy. The anti depressants weren't making a difference and I just stopped taking them all together. Looking back, that probably wasn't a good choice but whatever. When we went to that party, I got wasted fast. As soon as we parted, I pretty much found the keg and drank and drank." He dared to take a look at Frank who was staring down at his hands.

"I guess that party wasn't such a great idea, huh?" He mumbled. Mikey shook his head.

"No but don't even start to feel bad about that. You didn't know." Mikey paused briefly before continuing. "There was this girl, who was sitting in the corner. She kinda barbed me on how much I was drinking and for some reason, she asked me if I was trying to forget something. I found that comment really weird. It was like she knew/. Anyway, she wound up taking me into this bedroom and there were like five or six people just doing line after line. I knew I should have left but I was drunk and she seemed so inviting. She made a line for me and I did it. /I fucking did it! All I could think of was 'Gerard did it and he said it helped him'. Frank, it was amazing. The high was like, I can't even begin to explain it."

"It was April, wasn't it?" Mikey's head jerked into the direction of Frank. He hadn't been planning on revealing her name but I guess it was bit more apparent that she was the source of the drugs than he had thought.

"Yeah."

"I kind of knew it." Frank sighed. "She ever only came over once a day and never stayed very long. Wow, I can't believe I didn't catch onto that sooner." Mikey shrugged.

"It's not exactly the first thing that comes to anyone's mind about her. Her craft is drug dealing and she is a master at it. She was the one that showed me heroin. She brought it over one day and we did it. It was better than the coke. It lasted longer and was more intense. It just snowballed from there. She'd come over, we'd do a few lines, then shoot up for awhile. It was like a comfortable routine. She had this way of making it seem like shooting up heroin from stolen syringes was normal. Like it was a daily routine similar to brushing your teeth." He looked at Frank.

"Jesus...so this has been going on for over three months?" Mikey nodded.

"I don't know where to go from here. It's to the point where I'm scared to keep doing this. I just need more and more every time. I don't want to die, Frank." Mikey finished softly.

"I won't let that happen." Frank said fiercely. "I guess the first thing would be to get you detoxed or something." Frank stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Are you willing to do that?"

"What about the band? I know we're..." Frank interrupted.

"Fuck the band right now! This is more important at the moment." Mikey stared at Frank.

"The Mountainside Hospital..." Mikey began. "That's where Gerard went the..the first time..he..uh..." Mikey was having trouble saying the words and Frank gave him a sympathetic smile.

"You don't have to say it yet." Frank paused, glancing at his watch. "It's ten thirty. I think you should just sleep. It's been a long day and God knows we have a lot of shit to deal with tomorrow." Mikey nodded in agreement and stood up. He was tired and he left like sleeping for a long time. He knew Frank was watching him as he wandered off into the direction of his bedroom.

He walked into the dark room, flipping on the small desk lamp that was on the edge of his dresser. He really liked that lamp. It was just enough light to see what you were doing without it being overbearing. He took off his jeans, threw them into the corner, then did the same thing with his shirt.

He opened the top drawer of the dresser and rooted around for something to sleep in. His hands fell upon a pair of worn red and blue flannel pajama pants. He picked them up and hurriedly put them on. He also grabbed an old t-shirt from the same drawer and slipped it on as well. He enjoyed the feeling of air slipping over his exposed arms. He hadn't worn a short sleeve t-shirt in a very long time.

He pulled down the covers to his bed and slipped between the cool sheets. He let himself sink into the bed and into his favorite position. He laid there in the dim light, arms wrapped around a pillow until he heard Frank settle into the room next his.

He silently listened to Frank move about his room and finally flop down into his bed. He had done this may nights when he couldn't sleep so he had memorized the sound of all of Frank's movements. He waited ten...fifteen minutes, until he knew for sure that Frank was sleeping before sitting up. He sat cross legged on the bed and let the thoughts run through his head.

He knew that he really couldn't keep going on this way but...but he was unsure if he could really give it up. It truly had become a comfortable mundane routine. He didn't regret telling Frank about his problem but didn't know if he was ready to give it up. He knew that getting clean was going to be a long, painful road and he didn't think he was up for that ride. He needed to think. He needed to get some air and think.

Mikey quickly pulled his shoes on, comfortable sandals, smirking at the ridiculousness of wearing sandals with socks. He went to his closet, pulled out a hooded sweatshirt and slipped it on. Then, as quietly as he could, he walked through the apartment and out the front door.

Once outside, he walked along the quiet, deserted streets. He really enjoyed the frigid night air and how the street lights cast small amber pools of light on the sidewalk. He walked for about an hour, turning corners and crossing streets without really paying attention. He stopped and looked around at his surroundings. All at once, he knew where he was. He was standing in front of April's house.

He checked his watch. Eleven fifty-six. She would be up. He stood there a moment, pondering why he had chosen to walk to her house. Well, he knew why he was there but what he was really considering was if he should go knock on her door. He walked up the winding cement pathway to her house and climbed the three steps that led to her front porch. He held his hand up, ready to the ring the buzzer, but stopped. Biting his lip, he quickly brought his hand back down and turned to leave. He stopped mid-turn and quickly stepped back to the front door, and without thinking about it another second, rang the bell.

The generic doorbell sounded louder than usual to Mikey and the time that elapsed before April opened the door seemed endless. April stood in the doorway, the light from the hallway glowing golden behind her. She smiled when she saw Mikey.

"Mikey, I haven't seen you in, oh, three days? What brings you here?" She grinned manically. Mikey knew she was strung out on something but he really didn't care. He spoke in hurried, breathless words.

"This is the last night I'm going to be here. This is the last time I'm doing this but...for one last time, can you make me forget?" He looked at her with pleading eyes and she smiled.

"But of course!" Mikey stepped into the house and April quietly shut the door behind him.