Behind the Scenes (A Mikey Fusco Love Story) *Completed*

Chapter Twenty- Three

(Mikey's POV; One week later )

"Now repeat this chreography back to me." Richy stood at the front of the room, his arms crossed over his chest. I nodded, and my feet started moving, but I could feel it wasn't right. "Woah, woah, Michael, what in the world was that?" Richy asked, his facial expressiong changing to surprised. I usually nailed the moves no problem. But today my mind was elsewhere. "I'm sorry, Rich, it's just-" "Gab. It's Gab." Jason cut me off as he walked into the room, setting his bag down. I rolled my eyes, and grabbed my water bottle. To say I haven't been getting along with the boyz lately was an understatment. They just don't get it. And it doesn't help that Jason is convinced I really was using Gab. "Rich, can I be excused for today?" "Yeah bud. Feel better." I nodded, and sighed, grabbing all my stuff, and walking out of the studio. These past few days have been terrible. I miss her. And it's been hell living without her presence, her laugh, her smile... God, here come the tears again. I walked the two miles home, and was relieved to see Layla's house. I walked in, and fell on to the couch, my face burying into the soft material. I can't stand this anymore... 

(Gabrielle's POV)

"Ah, just like that, careful!" My mom stood close behind me as I used my crutches to navigate myself out of the hospital. I had used them when I was eight, but they just seemed so foreign now. I had trouble shooting my weight forward, and the nurse saw that, so she rolled out a wheelchair and sat me in it. "Thank you." I laughed, and wheeled myself forward towards our car. We were leaving out of the back entrance and taking a few back roads to get away from the paparazzi. I was lifted into the car, and my crutches were placed next to me. As we drove home, my mom talked about how things would be different now, protection would be higher, and I'd have to have an escort with me at all times. I sighed, and leaned my head against the window. Boy, things have changed...