I sighed and followed Vic out of Mike's room and back out to the living room, where Jaime and Mike were talking about something. They stopped when we came out though, which was weird...

"That took forever," Jaime said, "What were you guys doing?"

"Oh, you know just talking," Vic said, I shrugged as Jaime looked in my direction.

Mike scoffed and pushed past us, causing our skin to touch again. I felt my skin catch fire just like before. He grabbed my wrist and pulled my behind him muttering, "We need to talk."

I easily could've freed myself, but I didn't. We do need to talk. I don't know if I'm ready for this talk or not. I felt my heart beat faster as he pulled me into his room and closed the door. I can't do this, I have to get out of here. I can feel the air thickening around me, I need to get out of here. I tried to keep myself from shaking as he sat down on the bed and patted for me to join him.

"Tony?" he asked, "Are you ok, you're shaking?"

I bit my lip and nodded, not trusting my voice. I'm not ok though, I need to calm myself down, I need to cut. I can't do this without cutting first.

"No, you're not," he stated, "I think you're having a panic attack. Have you had them before? Do you take medication for them?"

I nodded and said, "I have them a lot. Never went to a doctor, so no medicine." My voice was shaky and I couldn't catch my breath.

He reached over to his nightstand and rummaged through a box. He pulled out a bottle of pills and took one out. He handed it to me and said, "This should help, I have them sometimes."

I hesitated and stared at the pill in my hand. Mike put his hand on my face and turned my head to face him, "Trust me."

I did. I swallowed the pill and closed my eyes. I felt the fire on my cheek from where Mike's hand was. I felt my heart beating fast. I felt my lungs struggling for air. I also felt a growing calm in the back of my mind, that pill worked really fast...

Mike chuckled as I struggled to catch my breath, feeling suddenly better, "Those things work fast don't they?" He said.

I nodded and scooted to the other side of the bed, suddenly feeling really uncomfortable with myself. I didn't know why, but I didn't want him to see me like this, I used to be strong for him... But now he's taking care of me.

"Tony," he said, "I'm really sorry if I caused that, but I need to know... Are you who I think you are?"

"I think so Mikey," I said, using my old nickname for him, "But then again, you could think I was Antonio Bandera..."

"Tony fucking Perry," he said, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me towards him, "You're actually here, aren't you?" he asked.

I nodded, "I'm really here Mike," I said, "When Jaime told me he found a band that needed a guitarist and bassist, I never expected that it would be you and Vic..."

Mike shrugged, "Yeah we decided to give it a try, and here we are..."

The conversation was getting awkward and I could almost taste the tension. I could cut it with a knife if I had one... I wish I had one... I wonder if he felt it too, I looked over and saw that he was playing with the hem of his shirt, something he did when he was nervous.

"So," I asked, trying to distract myself from the awkwardness "How are you?"

"It's hard Tony, somedays I'm happy and I feel fine about myself. Somedays, my mind is clear and I can think like a normal human being," he said, I couldn't tell his emotion by his voice, "But other days, it's a struggle just to get out of bed. Eating on those days is a war with myself, sometimes I can and sometimes I can't."

He turned to face me and I could see the pain in his eyes, this wasn't easy for him to talk about, "On the bad days, I can still hear the voices. They tell me I'm fat and disgusting, they tell me to kill myself."

"Don't listen to them," Came out of my mouth before I could stop it. I highly doubt he wants advice from me.

He chuckled and said, "Well I'm still here, so I guess that means I don't."

I smiled to sighed in relief, I can't stand the thought of him killing himself.

"What about you?" he said, trying to change the subject, "You have panic attacks now. When did those start?"

"I've had them for the past few years," I said quietly, "But it's no big deal."

"Yes it is," Mike said, "Panic attacks are dangerous. If one gets to bad, it could kill you."

I shrugged and muttered, "Wouldn't be a bad thing."

I thought that I had said it below my breath, so he couldn't hear. But he did hear me.

"Caesar Antonio Soto Perry," he said, using my full name, "That is not true," He sounded angry, "It would be a bad thing. Listen to me Tony, you have people who care about you, you have a great life. You don't want to die."

That statement made me angry. I balled my fists and let a few tears escape from my eyes, "HOW DO YOU KNOW?" I yelled.

Notes

Guys, 1,285 views and counting. You rock, just know that. (;

I'm trying to make chapters longer, but it takes longer to write them because my process is write a paragraph or two and go do something else for awhile. I'm trying not to do that but it's such a bad habbit. o_o