“Nick, are you
sure you feel up to this?” Kevin asked for the about the ten millionth time
since they had arrived at the studio.
With a roll of
his eyes, Nick retorted, “For the last time, yes! I’m fine.”
Adjusting his headphones, he perched on the edge of the tall stool and
closed his eyes, willing the queasy sensation that rocked his stomach to just
go away and leave him alone. The group
had decided to go to the studio that day to record a demo for one of the new
songs they had written together. Kevin,
always the worrywart, was convinced that Nick would not feel well enough to
record. Nick, on the other hand, was
ready to prove that he could. He had
sung sick before; this was nothing.
If only he
didn’t on the verge of throwing up every few minutes…
“Okay, you ready,
guys?” asked Bruce, their producer, from the other side of the glass
partition. Inside the sound booth, the
five men nodded. The track began to
play; it was a fast tempo that would require a great deal of energy and
support. As AJ took a breath and started
the opening solo, Nick inwardly groaned.
Oh, why had he agreed to do this?
This song - an up-tempo in which he had a solo part - on this day, one
of his chemo days.
The chorus
came, and Nick harmonized along with the others, keeping his voice low, saving
his energy for the next verse. He could
not let them down now, not after he had insisted to Kevin so many times that he
would be fine. Sucking in a great breath
of air, he opened his mouth and let the music pour out, focusing on the beat of
the music and not the pulse of his nausea.
It was not his
best, but it was not his worst either.
He made it, and that was what counted.
As AJ took over for him, singing the next verse, Nick sat back in
relief. Glancing over at Kevin, he saw
the older man smile at him and flash a thumbs up. Nick grinned weakly back. He could do this… no problem…
“That was
pretty good, guys,” said Bruce when the song came to a close. “Shall we try it again?”
Oh no, not
again, not again, Nick
chanted inwardly, closing his eyes.
“Um…” He could hear the hesitation in Kevin’s voice
and quickly snapped his eyes back open.
“Yeah, let’s
do it again,” he said quickly, nodding in Kevin’s direction. This was part of the job; very rarely did
they get a perfect take on the first try, and even when they did get a good
one, they liked to go back and try it again.
There was always room for improvement.
It was only a demo, but Nick wanted it to sound good. And if they had to do it again, so be
it. He could tough it out.
***
“All right,
let’s try another take. That one wasn’t
as good as the last one. Nick, you were
flat,” Bruce stated matter-of-factly.
Crap.
“Sorry, guys,” Nick muttered.
“It’s okay,
Nick,” Howie replied cheerfully, while AJ only scowled through the glass at
Bruce.
“Didn’t sound
flat to me; I thought it was fine,” he argued.
Bruce gave AJ
a patronizing look. “Trust me, it was
flat. Things sound a lot different
outside the recording booth.”
“He’s right,
AJ,” Nick said tiredly. “Let’s do it
again.”
“You
sure?” Kevin flashed Nick his fatherly
look of concern, which Nick chose to ignore.
AJ, on the other hand, refused to let the issue drop.
“Look, Bruce,
it’s only a fucking demo. Why don’t we
just use the first take; that one wasn’t flat, was it?”
“No, but not
all the parts were lined up exactly right either. You’re doing it again,” Bruce said firmly, a
“cut the crap” expression flickering in his eyes as they bored through the
glass at AJ.
AJ opened his
mouth to protest again, but Kevin cut him off, simply muttering, “Drop it, ‘J.”
“It’s okay; we
can do it again,” Nick jumped in, his stomach protesting every word. “We want to do our best, even if it is just a
demo.”
AJ rolled his
eyes. “Fine, fine, we’ll do it again.”
The music was
again cued, and they started the song for a third time. Nick mostly mouthed rather than sang, for the
notes just did not want to come out, and when they did, he knew they were less
than satisfactory. When they reached his
solo part once again, he took a deep breath and, squeezing his eyes shut,
belted out his part. Whether it sounded
decent or not, he did not know, for just the effort of it sent him into a
coughing fit that disrupted the rest of the song.
“You okay,
Nick?” Brian asked, as Nick coughed and gagged.
“No,” Nick
gasped, holding his precariously gurgling stomach. Sliding off the stool, he glanced back at
Brian and mouthed “bathroom,” then took off without a word.
“Where is he
going?” he heard Bruce demand as he burst from the booth and took off on running
on his peg-legged gait to the nearest restroom, not sticking around to wait for
the guys’ explanation.
Once in the
sanctuary of the unoccupied men’s room, Nick hurtled himself into one of the
stalls, collapsed to the ground, and practically buried his head in the toilet
bowl, retching so intensely he was sure he was throwing up major internal
organs along with everything else. When
he had vanquished his digestive system’s wrath, he cleaned himself up, flushed
the toilet, and weakly hauled himself up. As he started to unlock the stall, the door of
the restroom swung open. Immediately,
Nick froze, holding the door of his stall shut.
His heart slammed wildly around in his chest, and little beads of cold
sweat slimed their way down his back. He
knew he must look horrible and did not want to let whoever had come in see him,
not unless it was one of the guys.
“Nick? You okay?”
It was
Brian. Breathing a sigh of relief, Nick
let the door fall open and timidly emerged to face his friend.
“Oh jeez,
Nick, you look like hell. Come on, come
here.” Putting a strong arm around
Nick’s back, Brian guided him to the bank of sinks, where he stood gazing at
his macabre reflection while Brian hastily pumped out a long sheet of paper
towels from the dispenser. Ripping off
the coarse brown paper, Brian turned on the cold water and ran the bunch of
paper towels under it, lightly wetting them.
Nick stood stiffly while Brian ran the soggy bundle over his face,
wiping the perspiration and heat from his skin.
“This is so
stupid,” Brian said, shaking his head disapprovingly, as he stared at their
reflections, side by side in the mirror.
Nick stared too, comparing his sallow, unhealthy pallor to Brian’s
vital, tan complexion. “We should not be
trying to record today,” Brian went on.
“You should be in bed, not in a recording studio trying to sing.”
Nick shook his
head. “We can’t put this off because of
me. I’ll be fine. I just needed to take a puke break. I feel much better now.” He smiled weakly, but Brian only frowned.
“Stop trying
to play it off like it’s nothing. Come
on, we are going back to that sound booth, and we’re telling Bruce that we’re
done for today. You’re going back to the
hotel and getting straight into bed.”
“Damn, Bri,
you’re worse than Kev,” Nick joked lightly.
“You ain’t my mom.”
“Aren’t,
Nicky,” Brian corrected teasingly in a mother/teacher tone. “But,” he added, turning serious, “somebody’s
gotta be, don’t they?”
“What is that
supposed to mean?”
“Well, where
the hell is your mother?”
“Out in LA,
basking in the luxuries my cash has gotten her,” Nick replied dryly.
“Nick,” Brian
sighed, “I know you and your mom have had difficulties, and I admit, I’m not
crazy about her either. But she’s your
mom. You have to tell her about this. And your dad and your sisters and
brother. Don’t you care about them? Don’t you want their support?”
“Brian, you’re
my brother. You, AJ, Howie, and
Kev. I don’t need anybody else.”
“That’s nice
of you to say, but you need your family.
I think you should call them later today, once you’ve rested up a bit.”
Nick shook his
head. “You and the guys are more my
family than they are.”
Another sigh
from Brian. “All right, whatever,
Nick. Come on, you ready to go?”
“Back to the
sound booth or back to the hotel?”
“Whatever you
want.”
Nick
hesitated; he really did want to go back to the hotel… but that would mean
another day wasted. He’d be letting them
down.
“And I know
what you’re thinking,” Brian added.
“You’re not going to let us down if we go back to the hotel.”
Nick cocked
his head in disbelief. Good old Frick…
he’d always been able to read Frack like a book. “Okay,” he relented finally. “Let’s head back to the hotel then.”
Brian
smiled. “Good. Come on.”
Putting an arm around a slightly shaky Nick, the two friends slowly
headed back to meet the others.
***
That night,
Daddy Kevin called a “family meeting” in Nick’s suite.
“So, what’s
this little pow-wow all about?” AJ asked, when they were all settled around the
living room area. Nick, who lay
stretched out on the couch, didn’t know, but he had a feeling it had to do with
him.
“I think we
need to take a break,” Kevin announced without hesitation.
“What do you
mean, ‘take a break’?” Nick asked apprehensively.
“I mean just
that – take a short… hiatus, if you will.
A couple weeks, maybe?”
“Why?”
“I think we
need it. We’ve been working our asses
off, and we just need a break from the work and from each other,” Kevin
replied. “Besides, I don’t know about
you guys, but I’d like to go home and see my family.”
Nick watched
as Brian, Howie, and AJ exchanged glances.
He could see the longing in Brian’s eyes in particular and knew his
friend was yearning to go home to Georgia and be with his wife and son. He hadn’t seen them in weeks; none of them
had seen their families in weeks. As for
Nick, he hadn’t seen his family in months, but he wasn’t sure they actually
counted as “family.” Well, Aaron did…
and sometimes their father… but other than that, to hell with them.
“If this is about
family, I think it’s a good idea,” he spoke up.
“But I hope this isn’t because of what happened in the studio
today. I know I sucked, and I’m sorry,
but I tried my best, and if you’d just give me a few more days, till I’m off
chemo, I’ll be-“
“Nick, stop!”
Kevin interrupted. “This isn’t about
what happened today at all. You’re a
trooper, buddy, and we appreciated you dragging yourself in there today. But we all need a break. You… don’t you want to go home to Tampa and
your dogs and your boat and the ocean and all that?”
As soon as
Kevin said those words, Nick’s heart swelled with desire. Yes, he did want to go home… play with
his dogs, sleep in his own bed, go out in his boat (when he wasn’t on chemo,
that was – he didn’t think the rocking sea would do much for his nausea). “Yeah,” he said wistfully, “I guess I do.”
Kevin
smiled. “Guys? Any objections?” he asked the others.
AJ shook his
head immediately, and Nick knew he was thinking of Sarah. But Brian and Howie both hesitated.
“Nick,” Brian
finally said, “are you sure you’re gonna be okay at home by yourself?”
Nick sighed
heavily. How did he know that was
coming? “Aw, c’mon, Bri, I’m not a
baby. I’m an adult now, for crying out
loud, I can take care of myself.”
“I know, Nick,
but you’re sick and puking your guts out all day, and… what if something
happens?”
“It won’t,”
Nick said firmly. “So what if I throw
up? Big deal – barfing ain’t gonna kill
me.” Brian only sighed, not looking
convinced. “Brian… you know you want to go
home and see Leigh and Baylee, you know you do.
So just go to them. It’ll only be
for two or three weeks, right? You can
call me whenever you want. I can handle
myself.”
“Nick, what if
I came home with you?” Howie suggested, and Nick knew he had been worrying
about the same thing. God, Brian and
Howie… the two them put together were worse than Kevin sometimes.
“I don’t need
a babysitter, D,” Nick replied grudgingly.
“Go home to your mama, enjoy that home cooking while you can.”
“Well… why
don’t you come with me then?” Howie offered brightly. “You could stay at my place.”
“No, I want to
go home, to Tampa, to my house.”
Kevin
nodded. “Well, I think that settles it
then, doesn’t it?”
“When are we
leaving then?” asked Brian.
“We’re
supposed to be in the studio again tomorrow… so how about the day after that?”
“Sounds good.”
And so it was
settled. They were going home, Kevin
back to Kristin, Brian to Leighanne and Baylee, AJ to Sarah, Howie to his
family, and Nick to…
No one.
***