Help Me

Studio

Mikey

Three days later, the five of them were back in the studio, much to Mikey's delight. He was rid of his crutches, finally, yet the knee-brace remained.

It was something that he would live with forever, the doctor told him, but Mikey was kind of okay with that.
His stitches had gone completely too, so, really, Mikey was physically healed; well, except for the almost non-existent limp he had, and the scars that he knew wouldn't fade.

Mikey did feel better about himself, but there was still the self-consciousness that held him back.

Himself and Rye had taken a studio selfie, posting it on Instagram to let the Roadies know that they were finally back at work, but all Mikey saw was the red line that covered his face.
He looked away, closing his eyes, but let Rye post it anyway.

"What's up? You suddenly went quiet." Rye softly said.
Himself and Rye were chilling on the sofa, seeing as they'd done their parts for the day.

"Nothing important." Mikey snuggled into his side, sighing.
He loved how observant Rye was, but at the same time he wished he wouldn't ask.

It wasn't, not really. But he knew that Rye wouldn't leave it alone, because that's exactly the kind of guy Rye was. He made sure that everyone was being heard, especially as of late.

"It's clearly something."

Mikey laughed. "Can you trust me when I say it's nothing?"

"I trust you, but that doesn't mean I have to believe you."

"That's fine." Mikey whispered with a smile.

It was weird. Mikey was bothered by the fact that he had scars littering his body, and some ugly ones at that, but at the same time, he wasn't. Or maybe it was safer to say that he didn't want to be bothered by it. Sometimes, he forgot they were even there, but then hed catch a glimpse of himself in the rear-view mirror, in photos, and he would see that scar on his face, there for everyone to see.

Rye never brought it up, and neither did the boys for that matter, yet Mikey knew that they noticed. He saw their eyes lingering on him for longer than necessary, and he knew what they were looking at. Whilst he was editing, he saw them looking at him out of the corner of his eyes. He had gone back to the gym too, walking on the treadmill for a hours at time; he could feel his fitness coming back to him slowly, something which he had partially lost over this last month.

Things were looking up, finally, but of course, there were still the small things that bothered him.
After all, everyone had fears, right? But his were different to the boys' fears, he knew that much.

Later that night, Mikey found himself in the bathroom, and he forgot how long he was stood there, just staring at himself in the mirror. He raised a critical eye to his body, raking over the scars, the abs that were losing definition, his face, his whole body in general. Mikey's hands clutched the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white, not taking his eyes off himself. He had changed so much, and he didn't like these changes.

He sighed, letting his head drop.

"This is what was bothering you earlier."

He looked up suddenly into the mirror, seeing Rye looking right at him with a sad smile on his face.

"Maybe."

Mikey bit his lip as he said the word, closing his eyes and looking to the side. Rye's arms wrapped around him from behind, and he rested his chin on Mikey's shoulder.

"You're perfect, you know that right?" Rye murmured, pecking his cheek. Mikey didn't reply. He leant back into his boyfriend, drawing in the warmth of his body as it pressed to his.