The Trouble with Loving a Milkovich Part 4

Come on Down

The officers arrest Terry but release Mickey. Seeing this, Collin grabs the keys to the car, and I roll up the welcome banner and throw it in the passenger seat before popping in after it. Swinging past the front of the store, we see Ian kiss Mickey on the top of the head. Honking the horn, he shouts at them to hop in. "This deserves a proper celebration!" I scream. Laughing in exhilaration, they jump in. Reaching back, I hand them each a pill. "Fuck is this?" Mickey asks. Popping one into Collin's mouth, I tell them, "Exxxxxxxstacy!" "Oh boy," Mickey says in mock excitement. "Just do it, pussy," Ian rubs his arm, gulping his down excitedly. Shrugging his shoulders, Mickey tosses it back. "Bottoms up."

Everyone from the bar shows up at the Milkovich house. Music plays on the giant speakers in the living room. Alcohol is flowing freely thanks to Axel making a stop by. The ex is taking hold, and suddenly the sweater of Collin's I'm wearing is altogether too hot. Removing it, I forget I'm not wearing a bra. Pierced nipples exposed, I dance on the coffee table with Ian. Collin and Mickey plop down on the couch, jaws dropped in amazement. Mickey turns to Collin. "This is good fucking shit!" He yells, to which Collin replies, "Right?!" An overwhelming sense of well being and euphoria wraps itself around my mind; Ian and I find ourselves in each other's arms. "God, I'm so fucking proud of you!" I say, the two of us swaying to the music. "Thanks, Jagger," he whispers, kissing the top of my head. Someone throws the welcome banner at me, so I take it and wrapyself in it. The evening flies by in technicolor and feel good chemicals. The liquor enhanced the effects of the drug but it also sends us crashing sooner. Before I know it, I'm nodding out in Collin's arms. "I got you, baby," he whispers, clutching me tightly to his chest. Together, serenely, we succumb to oblivion.

Mickey's voice breaks thru my unconscious state. "What the fuck did you two give him?!" Confusion clouds my thoughts and I'm barely able to open my eyes before Mickey's banging down the door, yelling at the top of his lungs. "The fuck did you guys give him?" He repeats. Blurry eyed and hungover, I tell him, "same thing we all fucking took."
"Was it heroin?"
Irritated, I move the pillow over my face. "Why the fuck would we do that, asshole?" Collin shuffles beside me. "Get the fuck out, Mick." He sighs heavily from beneath the sheets. "Somethings wrong with Ian." Alert, both Collin and I sit straight up. Clambering clumsily out of the bed, we make way to Mickey's room. Curled up in the fetal position, facing the wall, Ian's motionless body lay. Gently, I crawl across the bed towards him. "Ian?" My voice stays low and calm; I've felt this suicidal before. Whatever triggered it, I know that's what he's feeling. Unable to answer me, he remains stoic and unmoving. Turning back to Collin and Mickey, I wipe a tear and shrug. "Could be coming down really hard... I always just do some coke when I feel like this. Should i-?" Mickey cuts me off. "Fuck no, no drugs, especially not if that's what caused this..." Collin observes Ian. "I dunno, man. This feels like more than just an ex come down..." Collin is right; crashing off E isnt pleasant, but it's also not debilitating; after a little sleep, you'll just feel burnt out. This, however, was draining the life of everyone near it...
"Keep an eye on him, Mickey," I warn, my voice cracking. "I've seen lows like this... could be lethal." I exit the room and head back to our bed. Seeing Ian like that breaks my heart for him; to be chained to the bed, weighed down by an invisible oppressor. Ignoring the gnawing depression that's creeping up along my psyche, I deal with my emotions the best way I know how. Collin enters the room as I pull out the mirror. "When are we gonna quit?" he asks, a loss in his voice that I can't deal with right now. "When it gets bad again," I reason, rolling up the straw. Watching me, he just shakes his head. "How bad?" Inhaling, the powder embeds itself in my nose hairs. "How about when we OD," I say, half sarcastically, half just high. Colling takes the mirror from me and does a rail. Feeling better, he nibbles on his bottom lip. "Sounds like a good plan..."

Sleep finds us again, only this time, when Mickey wakes us up, its with a different tone of voice. "Look, guys," he stands at the doorway, the light peering thru and assaulting my eyelids. "What's up?" I ask groggily. Mickey clears his throat and its evident that hes been crying. "Fiona thinks Ian has bipolar."