Now that we've highlighted a bit of Morro's past, let's slide into the ferris wheel part of this entire story. The story is called Ferris Wheel for a reason. ;) Oops. Where I meant to say 'Morrison', instead I said Morro. Believe me guys, I am EXTREMELY lazy and I'm sorry. Maybe I'll fix it laters :S
Chapter Twelve: John Cena & The Miz: World
Mike's eyes were coloured in grey-blue before he turned around and held his head into his hands. "Mike," Cena tried to reach for him before Mike slapped his hand away and Mike turned around so Cena could face the mess he'd created. Tears rolled down heavily down Mike's eyes, accompanied by little chortles of laughter. Cena tried to reach out to touch him but Mike slapped his hand away.
Mike's laughter erupted then. Morro cringed. This wasn't a good sign at all. Morro moved towards him and held him tightly, stroking his hair for a second. Mike was grinning a painful grin into Morro's arms, still laughing as tears rolled down his face. Mike looked like he was full of energy. Mike's feet were moving, his hands playing with each other behind Morro's back.
"Mike, I know you're upset," Morro tried to lightly dab his fingers against his face.
"No, I'm not upset," he responded and Cena noticed how animated his voice was. He grabbed onto Morro and Cena's hands. "I'm just a little sad because you won't let me ride the ferris wheel with you two. So come on, let's go ride the ferris wheel!"
"This isn't so bad..." Cena tried to tell Morro.
"It's a mixed mania episode. He's not thinking clearly. His emotions are all over the place and it's controlling him! What do you mean it's not this bad? I never saw his mood jump so fast and easily. He can't handle all of these events according at once, you're hurting him! You're fucking hurting him."
"He isn't hurting me," Mike responded again, saying his sentence in one fluid second before he moved towards the hot dog stand where a man was cutting the hot dog bun with a knife. Mike grabbed it in one quick movement before shoving the tip of the knife towards his arm recklessly. "This would be hurting me."
Morro grabbed onto Mike, holding onto the knife and sliding it out of his arm. The cut was deep yet Mike showed no signs of pain.
"We're taking you home," Cena told him.
"No, I want my ferris wheel ride!" Mike pouted, grabbing onto Morro's and Cena's hands again and then moving them towards the ferris wheel ride.
"What would you give him to calm him down during these states?"
"I don't let him leave the room in this state! I let him stay in the room with no sharp object in the way to let him hurt him. I have a room for this at my own house. It was my sister's depressed mood. You see, last time he had a mixed episode; he almost put his hands in the laundry machine to see what will happen to them! This is bad. This is very bad, Cena. This is horrible. When he's depressed, he has no energy to even kill himself and when he's in mania, it's all about letting everyone fuck him and buying jewelry that he'll never wear! When he's having a mixed episode... You hurt him! You hurt him bad..." Morro hissed at him.
"He won't kill himself," Cena offered with a soft smile.
"Look! The ferris wheel is pretty." Mike said, gawking at it in full amazement. "We're going." He said in a stern voice.
"Fine," Cena responded.
"You! I want to take him—"
Mike shoved them past the people, screaming at all of them and kicked past women and children when Cena tried to explain to them that Mike was bipolar. Morro was whispering something into Mike's ear but Mike seemed to shrug him off. Mike had gotten on the ferris wheel, pushing them inside. Mike grinned at them happily.
"This is where we first kissed, Morro. Isn't it so cliché?"
Mike wrapped his arms around Morro and kissed him strongly, leaving Morro to slowly hold his shoulders. Mike forced him on top of him. "W-what?" Morro stared as Mike's eyes looked at him with grief.
"I feel guilty, you know." Mike had finally let out, his voice still full of vivaciousness. "Sleeping with those people when we were together. I'm a fucking whore. I kissed Cena when he was going to have a baby." He let out an heart-shattering grin that made Cena nearly close to tears.
"But that's okay..."
"Don't worry, folks! It's just some technical difficulties."
"Stuck in a ferris wheel," Mike laughed again, tears rolling down his eyes. "So fucking cliché, Morro. I hate this romantic atmosphere, makes me think of all the wrong I've done...makes me want to—"
"No," Morro softly told him, holding onto his hands. "Please listen to me, Mike."
"No! Lalalalala!" Mike sang, pulling out a bottle out of his backpack and then opening the bottle of whiskey before drowning a quarter of it in one gulp. Cena was worrying that Mike would choke on the whiskey for a moment there and before anyone could talk, Mike continued to add on his own views. "I'm gonna marry you and you're going to make me happy. Fucking euphoric."
"Please." Right now, his eyes looked full of grief and desolation before he let out a laugh. "I'm a terrible actor. You know, I remember being here last time, you complained about how weird it was that John and that blonde chick from Dear John never got together in the end of the movie and that you still don't get the moon reference and—"
"You watch Dear John?" Cena asked.
"Yeah. And he also—"
"Call me Mikey again and I might knock this bottle of whiskey on your face but then again, I want to drink it. It tastes so good and bitter and—"
Cena chuckled. "Mike needs to sober up I guess. He can't think of anything potentially harming when he's drunk, can he?"
"Shut up! He's going to. I fear he is." Morro curled his tongue into his mouth, biting it with nervousness against his face. "He can't think straight when he's in a mixed episode. Alcohol is the worst thing you could possibly give him for fuck's sake. Mike! Can you see me?"
"Who? Angelina Jolie?"
"Enough with the Jolie jokes!"
"Can't help it. You're as skinny as her." Mike took another swig of whiskey from the bottle. "This is why I don't fear you snatching this bottle away from me."
"The only reason I'm not snatching that bottle away from you is because you're gonna claw my face and get it back anyway. Mike, you have to stop. You're not thinking clearly." Morro begged him.
"No." Mike said, no stern as he threw the empty bottle on the floor. "I'm thinking fineeeeee. So, how's your baby, Cena? How is she? Or he...?"
Cena's eyes were full of some sort of guilt. "She...she's doing fine."
He'd never seen Mike so torn in emotions and just as he was about to grab a hold of his hands, Mike looked at him before and let his emotions be his words. "I can fly, you know," he said, laughing softly. "Fly..."
Mike slipped back, eyes shutting tightly.
Cena stared back at Morro whom had tears running down his eyes.
"Morrison?" Cena asked, holding his shoulder. "John?"
"I'm afraid he'll hurt himself. I really don't know what to do anymore. I've never seen him so...elated and depressed at the same time," Morro shook his head. "Not even when he bought me three different houses with my credit card when I didn't need them. I can't believe I let him get away from my fingers and slip away. I didn't even think of what it may be doing to his personality."
"It's not your fault. I gave him the citalopram."
"Which only an idiot would do," Morro retorted before laughing sadly at his own joke. "I just want to get off this ride when it's out and go home and give him citalopram with a mood stabilizer. He's not thinking clearly. When that happens, he's going to be angry at me, call off the engagement and threw things at the both of us but at least he'd be able to think...I thought this day would actually be good. I thought I could get him to lighten up slightly, give him his dosage and maybe get back together with him so I could look out for him. It was never meant to go this far. Now it's too far and I don't know how to fix him."
"Sure you can! You had your experience of your sister's bipolar disorder, yeah? You can!"
"...my sister died."
"But it's not your fault the world is fucking unfair."
"She died but the world isn't fucking unfair...I..." Morro finally let the words slide out of his lips, as he held his head into his hands. His heart was pounding in his chest. "She died because of me."
Now that was cute.