How Could You?

I always will

~ 1990 ~

Stepping out of the shower, Mick reached for a towel to wrap around himself instead of getting fully dressed again. He stopped in front of the mirror for a moment, taking a good look at himself. He looked tired, all of them did. Behind the Mask tour was nearing the end and every band member was exhausted. A few years ago, Mick would now go look for a little bag and do a few lines, before returning to a party he had thrown himself, but not anymore. No, they had finally grown up, matured... Sort of. 

Deciding to go to bed and rest for the last couple of shows, Mick was stopped midway by a loud banging on the door. Frowning, he went to check who the visitor was.

"Stevie?"

"Why'd you do it?" She slurred, leaning against the doorway.

"What did I do?" Mick asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Lindsey..." She whispered, her big beautiful brown eyes swimming with tears. "Why'd you invite him to play with us?"

Sighing, Mick stepped aside to let her come in, closing the door when she did. "That's why you're drunk in my room at this time?"

"He hates me! I don't want to see it in his eyes, when he comes to play that last show." Stevie shook her head, making herself comfortable on Mick's bed, sitting hunched over, head in her hands. "He hates me, Mick." She repeated.

"Lindsey doesn't hate you. We both know he never could."

"Right." Stevie scoffed. "Don't you remember how we parted ways? How we screamed and nearly physically fought? That was t-the last time we saw each other, when he quit."

"Maybe this will be a great opportunity to talk it out." Mick suggested, seeing heavy tears fall from her eyes. He rubbed her back in attempt to calm her down. "Did you really expect to never see him again?"

"He can't see me like this..." She ignored the question. "Look at me, Mick. I'm disgusting. I'm still a drug addict. I've piled on all this weight, my skin looks horrible, my hair isn't as luscious and beautiful as it used to be... Lindsey can't see me." She shook her head, crying.

"Come on, don't say that." Mick wrapped his arm around her middle and pulled her closer. "You've always been and you'll always be a beautiful woman, Stephanie." Pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm a fucking mess, Mick, that's what I am. I'm fat, I'm ugly, I'm addicted, I'm... I'm so lonely. Nobody loves me. Nobody wants me anymore."

Mick was getting increasingly worried, hearing what she had to say about herself. Stevie had changed a lot since she started taking Klonopin, but Mick didn't realize she loathed herself.

"I have nobody." Stevie added, lifting her chin up, looking at Mick and it broke his heart.

"That's not true. You have me." Mick smiled at her, his fingers found their way into her hair and she closed her eyes.

"Not the way I need to have somebody." She said, resting her head on his bare chest.

After a lengthy moment of silence between them, Mick swallowed uneasily and spoke up. "What way would you like to have me?" Slightly pulling away, Stevie stared into his eyes, searching for reassurance, wanting to make sure they shared a mutual understanding.

Bringing up a hand to touch the side of his face, she kissed him and he reciprocated, the kiss quickly growing to be a lot more passionate, turning into foreplay...