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DO YOU FEEL IT TOO?

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"Wall to bloody wall of 'em!" Davy Jones rushed into his dressing room, slamming the door behind him. "That was close." He sighed and pulled off his gray suit coat. Touring. There was nothing quite like it.

Peter Tork, perched on a couch across the room, couldn't help but laugh teasingly. "I thought you liked the attention?"

"David Thomas Jones? Sick of the fans? I think I'm feeling faint." Micky Dolenz cracked a broad smile.

"Alright fellahs! Enough's enough." Davy walked over to the large, light bulb rimmed mirror across the room and sat down.

"Should have heard them tonight. Screaming out his name like it was still the 60's." Micky was still up for a little gentle joking around. "Da-vy! Da-vy! Da-vy! What is it with you and the preteen crowd, pal?"

"Isn't is obvious? They 'ave impeccable taste!" He tossed his head in mock indignation.

Peter tossed a pillow at him in response. Things hadn't changed between the three, except for the inevitable impact of the passing years, but that had done more to their hairlines than anything else. Of course the obvious difference was one which the guys never brought up. Even when they were alone, no mention was ever made of the missing Monkee-- Michael Nesmith. He had made it clear, and in no uncertain terms, that he was through with them. It saddened the other three while at the same time infused them each with a private sense of rage, and perhaps a touch of betrayal.

The man they now heard on the radio and saw on TV was so completely different that if you just happened to bump into him in passing, you would have never been able to identify him as the free spirited wool-hatted musician of years before. Some fans did try to seek him out, but were quickly rebuffed. Charging $40 for his autograph and now refusing to dignify a response to anyone who mentioned the dreaded M word while he was around, was truly painful to think about now. He had also completely abandoned his music, to the dismay of everyone. It was true, Michael had everything a man could hope for in his life... a family, a highly successful business career, and was heir to the Liquid Paper fortune. But that didn't mean his former bandmates didn't miss him.

How many times have I wished to go back and change the past? Peter smiled outwardly to the others, but the thought of Mike had drawn his real attention elsewhere. I guess everyone's path is littered with bad decisions and unresolved issues. But it feels like I've had way more than my fair share. Having battled a horrible alcohol addiction for nearly ten years, Peter knew what it was like to struggle back into your life again. For the longest time he felt as if life no longer wanted him. So, he felt if life could turn it's back on him, he could do the same to it. That was the attitude that had led to his addiction in the first place. The lowest place in all that time had to be the day that he went to jail. Quite a long fall from the fame and fortune he had experienced years before.

Micky and Davy, having freshened up quickly, headed out to appease the autograph-hungry fans. Peter stayed behind. He wasn't done thinking through everything yet. Oh, he didn't expect any resolution to come from a simple rehash of old thoughts and feelings, but somehow, reasoning things out seemed to help his overall state of mind.

The other guys had been a great source of comfort as of late. They had had their disputes, as most people did, and there was a long period of estrangement, but overall they had remained friends. And I thought that went for Michael as well... guess you can't be right about people all the time. I wonder what that old bastard is doing right now?

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They were foolish. Going out on the road like that and letting the critics take pot shots at them. Davy, Micky and Peter had to be complete idiots to subject themselves to stuff like that. Didn't they remember what had happened with 'JUSTUS'? The powers that be in the industry had had a grand old time tearing at them left and right. The negative hype had finally gotten to the point where he couldn't handle it any longer, so he got out while the getting was good. And he was proud to say that he hadn't looked back since then. End of discussion.

Today's Michael Nesmith had everything he could want. A highly successful organization, more than enough money, and above all else, security. Thirty-five years ago, the same couldn't have been said for him. A struggling musician and actor, he had been doing little more than living hand to mouth. Spending all his days on the road in pursuit of simple employment was no way to live. Of course those days were a distant memory now. He hadn't even picked up a guitar in several years.

Adding up all of these reasons, the decision was rather easy to turn down his ex-bandmates. He knew they were disappointed, but The Monkees were of the past, and he had to keep thinking foreword. Living in the past was simply not an option. It wasn't even the best past to remember. They had had very little, if any control over what went on around them back then. The feeling of being powerless had sat like a lump in the pit of Mike's stomach and cost him many nights worth of sleep.

So this was where he was now. Sitting behind a desk, the head of a powerful organization and happy as a man could be. So why was it that he sat there staring at the tour announcement with a small amount of longing playing at the corner of his mind? He should be sending out memos and preparing for the next board meeting, not rehashing the past.

"I must be some kind of damn fool." He muttered to himself as he walked over and picked his coat up off the back of a chair. A walk in the park should do some good. Clear my head.

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Freedom! Micky jumped for joy as he slipped out the back exit of the hotel he and his bandmates were staying at. It was rare to get out these days, being on tour and having to constantly dodge hoards of fans. Going out incognito was the only option open to him at this point. That was why he had exited the hotel wearing a wide brimmed hat and large sunglasses along with a black poncho hanging loosely around his shoulders. Attracting as little attention as possible was key.

It was a nice little city to be visiting. Oh, the thought constantly hung over his head that Mike lived and worked here, but he tried not to let it bother him and dampen the trip. Michael Nesmith and The Monkees had parted ways years ago, and that would be the way things would have to stay. Yet, he did miss having the Texan up there onstage with them, offering moral support. Micky supposed this was because he took comfort in the fact that he had a brother in the business who was going through the same thing he was.

Without any conscious decision on his part, Micky found himself heading for a small park in the heart of town.

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All the comforts of home, minus the home part. Davy chuckled and flopped down on the bed in the middle of his hotel suite. Fact was, he probably stayed in this type of 'home away from home' more than his actual home! Without a doubt, being famous had shattered anything resembling a private life he could have had. That was the case for all four of them, though, so Davy hardly felt comfortable in bemoaning his situation. Hell, the tabloids had a field day printing stories about all their failed romances, right? He couldn't dispute what was right in front of him, laid out in black and white.

"Might as well see what's on tha Telly." He grabbed up the remote and started flipping aimlessly through the hundreds of cable channels available. Commercials... movie of the week... someone belting out "I Will Always Love You" on public access... just your standard lineup. Finally settling on a random channel, he walked over to the small kitchenette and placed a kettle on the stove.

The morning paper sat on the counter, which he picked up half-heartedly and began leafing through. Nothing remarkable leapt out at him. Oh sure there was the standard report on foreign affairs, what the president was up to, who had won the ball game last night, but it was all fairly run of the mill information. A small article on the last page of the D section caught his eye though.

NESMITH SETS PUBLIC FORUM DATE

"Wonderin' when I was gonna run across that name." Davy mused aloud as he read. Taking the kettle off the burner and pouring himself a steaming cup of tea, he settled down to read. He had more than a passing interest in what Mike had been up to that had kept him so incredibly busy that he couldn't even manage to hook up with them on at least one tour date. Sure, Mike hated touring, and Davy understood that part. What he didn't understand was why that meant he couldn't work with them AT ALL.

"Mike's off saving the world somewhere." Peter had said in an interview when they had been asked about Mike's noticeable absence. Yeah, that was about what it boiled down too. So busy saving the world by fattening his own wallet that he couldn't bother to indulge in what had once been his full time career.

"Here we come... walk down the street... we get the funniest looks from everyone we meet..." Davy's head whipped up as the all-too-familiar theme played on the TV. Just his luck. Monkees marathon. Reaching over, he prepared to either turn it off, or at the very least, switch channels, when something caught his eye and he stopped. It wasn't anything in particular, more the sudden rush of nostalgia that overwhelmed him. Those four guys looked so happy together. Not a care in the world, they were just content to entertain. It was a well manufactured image, even by today's standards. People would have never guessed what kinds of things were going on behind the scenes.

Mike was right along with them back then. Wool-hatted, goofy Mike. He hated that hat with a vengeance, but despite that, he always managed a small, awkward smile from time to time. Mike smiled a lot more back then. He imagined that they had all smiled a lot more back then.

This is a real drag. He sighed and headed for the door. I really need ta go out an' clear my head for awhile. Get away from old memories.

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The dismal, rainy day had, fortunately, driven away most people from the park. Peter was thankful for the down time. Fans were great, but with them around, time to oneself was scarce, if not impossible, to have. Walking around the fountain, he tried his best to refocus for the concert tonight. On this tour he quickly discovered that they were lucky if they were in the same city from night to night, so this being their third night in one place was a rare treat.

Settling down under a clump of trees, which were providing the only dry spot in the whole park, he slowly leaned up against the trunk of the nearest tree and let out a long sigh.

"Ahhhh."

"Man, we have got to stop meeting like this." Micky stuck his head around the side of the tree and looked down at Peter.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Could ask the same thing of you."

"Let me guess... long walk to clear you head?"

"Sounds about right."

"Don't tell me you fellahs are stalkin' me." Davy called out as he walked over, having spotted them several yards away.

Micky laughed and shook his head, jogging over to Davy's side with Peter close behind. "Looks like the gang's all here."

"Yes." An all too familiar voice answered as its owner walked up behind the trio. "All of us."

"MICHAEL!" Davy's jaw dropped.

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