Death #8:
Not Today
By Karen
His looks and voice, that was all he had. It was
what paid the bills. He was sick of being told he fake'n baked. It was the
truth though. He had the orange hands to prove it. Everybody was out doing
stuff and surprisingly he had nothing planned. It would be a pamper Nick kind
of day. He'd go get his manicure, eyebrows worked on and possibly a hair cut.
The first stop was going to be the quiet tanning salon he discovered a few
months prior. With keys in hand, Nick went out to his garage and climbed into
his vehicle. Before he could even think twice about it, he was on his way.
He went around the building and decided to park in
the back. Privacy wasn't something he often had but this time he'd go for it.
Parking his SUV, Nick glanced up and groaned when he saw two men working on the
patio. It was a place for employees to escape and get a deep breath of fresh LA
air. They didn't even look up as he turned off the engine, shoved the keys into
his pocket and climbed out. Caution tape was stretched between several stakes,
each marking a new section of cement. Nick guessed that it was their way of
telling how far they've come or perhaps they were marking it for a design later.
He didn't know, didn't care. There was a tanning bed calling his name.
After following instructions on how to get around
the drying concrete, Nick made it inside. The bell on the door rang and a head
popped around the corner. It was a dark haired girl, smiling when she
recognized who it was. Nick rolled his eyes briefly and continued to make his
way up the dimly lit hallway towards the reception desk, passing the private
tanning rooms. A mental flag went up when he realized all the doors were closed.
He was going to have to wait? This wasn't part of the plan. It was confirmed
when the receptionist told him that one would be free in ten minutes. Nick let
out a heavy sign and opted to waste his time next door at the nutrition store.
A smoothie with green tea would do just fine right about now.
Ten minutes seemed to creep by and finally Nick
found himself dropping his clothes in a pile in his private room. His blue eyes
looked at his reflection, a hand running over his abdomen. He stood there in
the nude, admiring what he saw and for a second his mind began to shift towards
the brunette at the front counter. Nick caught himself as his hand was sliding
down past his belly button. Shaking his head free of cobwebs, Nick hit the
timer and lifted the lid of the tanning bed. He was about to put a leg inside
when he realized he left his drink on top of the electric box. Quick to move
across the room, the drink was picked up and placed on a table in the far
corner. How could he be so stupid? Did he want to die like the two girls in
Final Destination? Nick couldn't remember which one it was exactly but the
images of the two girls getting trapped inside the tanning beds while it
shorted out flashed in his mind. His eyes lifted and he scanned the room to
make sure there was no way anything could fall down and lodge itself against
the bed. Once he felt safe, he got his naked body inside the device.
Before he knew it, the lights were dimming and he
crawled out. He had been too paranoid to use his headphones. Instead, he had
laid there listening to every noise both from the machine he was laying in and
the noise outside his room. There was no way he was going to die today. Clothes
were put on in a rushed fashion, a hand went through his hair and after one
quick look in the mirror Nick left the room. One hand was in his pocket,
holding tightly onto his keys while the other kept bringing his drink up to his
lips. To calm his nerves, he stopped half way down the hallway and removed the
lid. Tipping his head back, he let the cool liquid run into his mouth. His eyes
went wide when he felt something solid hit the back of his throat and his head
was thrown forward, coughing. Was he seriously choking on a piece of fruit?
The girl from the front came running down the
hallway towards Nick. All the blonde could hear over the pounding of his heart
were the girl's flip flops and her frantic "oh my god!" Obviously she
didn't know what to do in situations like this and it was all Nick could do
from passing out, when he'd rather be kicking her in the shin. If he was able,
he'd shout out at the stupid girl to call 911. Did she not see he needed help?
Getting frantic, Nick started punching himself in the gut. If he survived this,
he was going to have bruises all over the stomach he had just admired. Finally,
he had hit the right spot hard enough and the large piece of fruit dislodged
itself. It flew through the air, hit the ground and then bounced, only to land
on the brunette's foot. She had a look mixed of disgust and "oh my god
that was just in Nick fucking Carter's mouth".
Nick leaned against the wall, taking deep breath
after deep breath. Why did he have to go and choke when the place was cleared
out, leaving him with the ditz? Today was not his day. Taking a glance at his
watch, he made sure it wasn't Friday the 13th. At least then this shit would be
explained. By this point, the girl was asking if he was okay and if he needed
to go to the hospital. She was pushing the idea a little too much, obviously
wanting to drive him. Nick waved his hand at her, said he was alright and just
wanted to get the hell out of there. The girl gave a little pout, obviously
disappointed Nick Carter wasn't having fun at her place of employment. She
wanted him to return, over and over again. Her hopes of that happening were
slowly fading away. She stood there and watched as Nick finished walking down
the hallway, taking the time to throw his unfinished drink in the garbage can
right by the back door. A little sigh left her lips and she turned to go to the
front - a ringing phone was needing to be answered.
All Nick could think about was getting the hell
away from that place as fast as he could. He slid his sunglasses on and pushed
open the door. Anybody could tell that the man's mind was a million miles away
as he stepped forward off of the back step. The caution tape was snagged by his
large sneaker and Nick fell forward. One hand was still in his pocket and the
other out in front of him, hoping to brace himself as he fell towards the wet
cement. It was a split second later when the stake went through the left part
of his sunglasses and straight through until it came out the back. It wasn't
for several hours until he was found face down in the now dry cement with a
stake sticking out of the back of his head, his arm still bent as if bracing
himself. Unfortunately, the brunette had to quit the next day.
***