Chapter 27
The rest of the
week wasn’t much better. Nick continued
meeting with the others, continued insisting he did want to be there,
that he did care about the album.
And the last part was true. He
had missed the guys and wanted to put out at least one more album with
them. Music was his life, and it was one
of the few parts of it that still seemed to be going right. Or it would be once he got off the chemo and
started feeling better anyway. He didn’t
want to screw that up. And that was
another reason why he was still hiding the truth from the guys – he knew the
album would no longer be a priority if they knew he had cancer, and he didn’t
want that, partly for his own sake and partly for the others’. They all cared about this album too, and it
would be selfish of him to let them quit now on his behalf.
And so, he hid
his symptoms as best he could, taking more than the prescribed amount of
anti-nausea drugs Dr. Kingsbury had given him, which did help slightly with his
vomiting. The week as a whole was not
very productive and ridden with tension and arguments, but as the saying goes,
“This too shall pass.” And pass it
did. By the end of the week, Nick had
finished his second round of chemo, and right away, his symptoms
disappeared. He was still tired and
weak, having not been able to eat much in the past week, but his stomach was
finally at ease, and his hair was all still there, and he couldn’t have been
happier at the moment.
Though they had
no idea what had caused it, Brian, AJ, Howie, and Kevin noticed the change as
well.
“Well, you’re
sure chipper today, Nick,” commented Kevin, smiling amusedly across the table
at Nick, who sat absently humming to himself.
“Huh?” Nick looked up. “Oh… yeah, guess so.” He smiled genuinely and glanced down at the
large menu in front of him. “Man, I’m
hungry,” he said, feeling the familiar pangs in his stomach. He had not felt them all week, for the nausea
had stolen his appetite. But here they
sat at the Denny’s a few blocks down from the hotel, waiting to order
breakfast, and he was suddenly starving.
Pleased at the thought of food actually sounding good once again, he
flipped through the menu, practically drooling over the pictures of greasy
bacon and stacks of waffles smothered in whipped cream and strawberries.
“Well, good,” AJ
said snidely. “You were worse than Sarah
when Aunt Flo’s in town.”
“Shut up,” Nick
muttered, rolling his eyes in AJ’s direction.
But he left it at that, not wanting to let anything spoil his good mood.
***
That night, after
a long day of hard work on the album, Howie said, “Hey, guys, why don’t we all
go do something together tonight? You
know, like old times?”
The others
exchanged glances; they hadn’t really gone out all together the whole time they
had been in Orlando.
“Where would we
go?” Brian asked.
“Uh… well… we
could hit a movie, maybe, or…”
“Nah, I don’t
feel like sitting through a movie. How
about a club?” Nick suggested.
The others looked
at him in surprise, and Brian immediately took on the big brother role. “Aw, Nick, I dunno… your leg… and…” He glanced warily at AJ. “Well, I dunno, I just don’t think clubbing
is such a great idea.”
“Hey, don’t worry
about me,” AJ said quickly. “We can go
clubbing if you all want to. I’ll be the
DD.” He smiled resignedly.
“No, Brian’s
right,” Kevin butted in firmly. “Nick,
you don’t want to go clubbing on crutches, do you?”
“Yes, I do,” Nick
replied determinedly. “I haven’t been
clubbing in forever.” This was true;
after weeks of leg pains, weeks in the hospital, and weeks on chemo, he hadn’t
been out much at all in almost two months.
He felt fine, except for the throbbing that almost always accompanied
his left leg, but he had pain medication to dull that. He wanted to take advantage of this sudden
vitality while he still had it.
More torn looks
were exchanged between the group members.
Finally, Howie, who seemed to be the swing vote, said, “Hey, if Nicky
wants to, I’m in.”
“Aje, you sure
you don’t mind?” Brian asked cautiously.
“Nah, it’s all
good,” replied AJ.
“I won’t drink
either, J,” Nick blurted out. “We can
chill together and knock back a couple of Dews, ‘kay?”
Kevin looked at
him in surprise. “Since when do you not
drink, Mr. I Got Myself Arrested For Getting Drunk Off My Ass And Smarting Off
To Cops?” He grinned, his green eyes
sparking teasingly at Nick.
“Funny,” Nick
smirked. “Actually, I’ve decided to cut
back on the drinking, thank you very much.”
He crossed his arms smugly over his chest, as if this had actually been
a choice he had made on his own. It had
not been, of course. He had only been
strictly warned by Dr. Kingsbury not to drink during the months he was on
chemo, for the alcohol could have a bad reaction with the chemotherapy drugs.
“Oh… well, that’s
great, Nick,” Kevin said, looking both perplexed and impressed at the same
time.
“Yeah, it is,” AJ
added, seemingly much happier himself.
“So, Kev… Bri… you in?”
“I’m in,” Kevin
replied, and four pairs of eyes turned on Brian.
“Eh, I dunno…” he
said, shifting his weight. “Why don’t
you four go on ahead? I think I’m just
gonna hang here and call Leigh.”
“That figures,”
muttered Nick before he could stop the words from escaping his lips.
Brian retracted, his blue eyes turning icy with hurt. “What did you say, Nick?”
“Nothing,” Nick
mumbled. “Sorry.”
“Come with us,
Rok,” Howie urged. “Let’s all go
together; it’ll be fun.”
Brian
nodded. “All right,” he said. “Let’s go.”
They separated to
get ready and were on their way within half an hour. They decided to hit a small club called The
Rogue first, hoping it would be relatively un-crowded to reduce their chances
of getting recognized. Apparently,
another local celebrity had the same idea in mind, for they had no sooner sat
down with their drinks when they heard a voice say, “Yo, ‘sup, fellas?”
His stomach
lurching at the gratingly familiar voice, Nick looked up from his Mountain Dew
to see none other than Justin “I Screw Other People’s Girlfriends” Timberlake
standing beside their table, an awkward expression on his face, which Nick
desperately wanted to mangle with his fist.
“Hey, Justin!”
Howie said with faked enthusiasm, and a forced, yet polite smile. “What’s up?
I haven’t talked to you in awhile.”
“Yeah, I know,”
replied Justin. “I just been chillin’
out here, you know what I’m sayin’? So
what’s been up with y’all?”
“Working on our
next album, actually,” Howie said.
“That’s cool,
yo. Hey, yo, Carter, ‘sup?”
“Nothing,” Nick
said stiffly, avoiding Justin’s eyes. He
felt Kevin’s elbow jab into his ribs, as if to say, “Be nice; we’re supposed to
all be friends, remember?”
Yeah, well,
friends don’t sleep with friends’ girlfriends, Nick thought bitterly.
“Yo, Nick, can I
talk to you a minute?” Justin asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
Nick glared
sullenly up at him for a moment, then finally said through clenched teeth,
“Sure.” Feeling the others’ eyes on his
back, he got up and followed Justin away from the table, to a secluded corner
of the bar. “What the fuck do you want?”
he demanded, as soon as they were out of earshot.
“Yo, chill out,
dawg. Look, I just wanted to say… I’m
sorry, dude. I didn’t know she was your
girl, dawg, I swear! She didn’t tell me
or nothin’! She was all hittin’ on me,
and I just thought she was some single chick, you know what I’m sayin’? I’d never try to steal your woman; I ain’t
like that.”
“No, you’re just
the scumball that gets a some random girl drunk and follows her back to her
hotel room to fuck her. You should be
proud.”
Justin blinked
and opened his mouth to retort. But
after a few seconds of standing there, gaping like a frog, all that came out
was a random, “Drums.”
Actually, Nick
was not sure if that really happened or not because he had already turned and
stalked away, leaving Justin to pull his Michael Jackson wannabe dance moves
and smack all the ghetto ho’s he wanted to that night. He wanted nothing to do with that little
prick ever again. Justin Timberlake
could go fuck himself, for all he cared.
“What was that
all about?” AJ asked curiously, when Nick returned to his seat.
“Nothing,” Nick
replied briefly, taking a long swig of his soda. “Nothing at all.”
***