in pieces

3. and one

I refused to eat. I refused to move. I refused to even respond to those around me. Someone came in. By the footsteps, it was Rob. I groaned, waiting for the bullshit he was about to speak. They didn't love me. It was true.

"Chaz, you gotta get up. You're gonna kill yourself," Rob pressured me. I covered my head and buried myself deeper into my bed.

"Chester. Get up." His voice was firm. It scared the shit out of me. A scared whimper escaped me.

"Real men don't suffer from depression, son. Real men don't cry. Real men are strong, unlike your wimpy ass," my father spoke. I hid under the sheets, trying to escape another blow.

"For God's sake Chester, stop fucking up the lyrics!" Mikes voice now boomed.

"Nice to see you, Chazzy Boy. See you've made some progress being a slut, son," my dad laughed sickly.

"I'd rather you kill yourself instead of deciding to stay in the band. If you stay, I'll make sure you kill yourself. If you come back... it'll be worse."

A cold rag was on my face and I felt my vision blurring back into normalcy. I was covered in pillows and everyone, including Mike, looked to be worried.

Before I could get up, Rob hushed me and held my hand. I squeaked, trying to weasel my way out of Mike's gaze.

"I ain't a fag. I ain't a slut. How hard is it to shoot yourself in the head already? Huh?" Mike sneered

"Go ahead son, show this man what a slut you are," my dad pushed me towards a creepy old man.

"Little Mikey was right. I don't know him, but I do know you are a slut."

"Vital signs are stable. Blood pressure is high, heart rate is high," I opened my eyes slightly to see the blur of a hospital ceiling moving. I tried to reach the mask on my face. A nurse gently placed my hand back where it was. I decided resting was a good idea.

"Alright, let's get him on the bed and comfortable," they took the sheet and moved me over to the other bed. Pillows were placed under my head ever so carefully. I yelped at a prick in my arm, but they were so careful with me. I felt a familiar hand on mine. Rob was there. He looked nervous. I didn't even know why I was here.

"R-Rob..." I whimpered. He looked up, smiling.

"Hey bud..." he smiled. "If it's okay, Mike wants to see you."

Did I want to see him?

Before I could answer, he was there. I gulped, but nodded for him to come in. He was careful to avoid getting too close. I could feel myself starting to drift, but forced myself to stay awake. To hear his bullshit.

"Chester. I denied it. I've denied this the whole year you were gone and ended up hurting you..." Mike rambled.

"Spit it out."

"W-what?"

"I said spit it out!"

"Chester, I'm fucking in love with you!"

Our lips crashed together in an explosive romance. All of my pain and anguish was let go in the kiss.

"Mike... Mike you don't know what you're doing!" I stopped him. "You still think I'm a slut! This is just to make me forgive you?!"

"You think I would kiss you if I wasn't in love? If I wasn't in love with you I'd still be kicking you to the curb."

(Sir Shinizzle's POV)

He started crying. I felt something strange. It hasn't came to me in a year. I felt the need to comfort him. I held him, hushing him and curling beside him in the hospital bed. "Let it out, Chazzy. I know it hurts. I'm so fucking sorry and I should've never gotten off my meds."

"I forgive you Mikey... you're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he sniffed. I wiped my own tears.

"Alright, you ready for the feeding tube?" I asked.

He groaned childishly, "But Mikey..."

"Come on, tomorrow I promise you'll get to try real food," I smiled.

"No stinky hospital food," he groaned. I laughed.

"Alright, no stinky hospital food."