Chapter 3
DOWN THREE BEST FRIENDS UP ONE WHACK JOB
Sitting
nearby when Katie and Becca neared the restrooms, was a short, spiked-haired
man, with wispy whiskers who heard what Katie had said, recognizing her as his
boss’s rival, but unaware of who she truly was to him. He rose from his bar
stool with deviousness in mind and headed over to Nick Thomas to engage him in
what he had hoped would be a little confrontational action, spicing up the
evening.
Alexander
“Junior” Gifford, Nick’s sound engineer, was the young man with the wispy
whiskers who overheard Katie’s less than flattering remarks about his boss. He
knew telling Nick what he heard would surely light up the pub that night. What
Junior did not know was that little information that he was only too happy to
share with Nick, would ultimately lead to his superstar, playboy status abrupt
finale with no encore following. The shocking devastating truth of Nick’s truly
damaging behavior was only thirty minutes, one block, and one brick wall
away.
Moments before
Junior approached Nick, he and Shawn were discussing that night’s performance,
which Nick felt was more than just lackluster but downright awful. Nick was
leaning frontwards against the bar having another disagreement with Shawn,
which seemed to be all they did as of late.
“Nick,
you gotta lay off the booze. You cannot expect to down several beers and go out
and perform at the top of your game.” Nick claimed one of the bar stools,
moving it just over a foot further away from his irritating friend.
“Shawn,
get off my back. I do not get drunk before my performances.”
“Maybe
not falling down drunk, but the beer slows you down and takes away from your
charismatic stage presence that you once had.” With his elbows leaning on the
bar, he guzzled the last couple of sips of his beer, slammed the bottle down to
get the bartender’s attention and signaled for another.
Rubbing
his un-kept beard on his face, he ordered his favorite beer chaser.
“Hey, buddy, throw in two shots of Patron, one for me, the other for my
matronly friend over here, who needs to loosen up for once, like he used to,”
he snickered. Shawn leaned in sideways from the bar facing Nick with his elbow
resting on the bar, as he stood in between two bar stools.
“No,
thanks, none for me and cancel his,” Shawn said. Nick put his hand up in the
air signaling for his shot that he ordered, throwing caution to the wind,
despite Shawn’s conscientious caveat.
“Screw
that, I’ll take his, also.”
“Buddy,
listen, Cath’ and I are worried about you. You and that stupid whack-job and
all your drinking is going to get you a cell right next to your Dad’s. You’re
one shot of Patron away from a repeat in history.” Nick slammed his fist down
on the bar and spun his head toward his closest, yet lately annoying
friend.
“Shut up, Shawn, I’m nothing like him. I’ll never be like that murderous scum, who is
rotting where he should be, so shut the hell up. I’m getting pretty sick of
your nagging at me like my mother. Leave me alone.”
“Well,
pal; I’m getting pretty sick of your selfish, ego-maniac, bitching at everyone
around you who cares enough to try to get you to open your eyes. Dude, you look
like hell. You’re slowing down, your timing is off, your voice sounds like shit, and your stage presence is practically a sleeper.” He crooked his head toward Shawn with a snarl on his face.
“We’re
all sick of you and your bitching,” Jerry said as he approached the two men,
claiming the other bar stool behind Shawn.
“Now,
you’re going to get in my face, Jer’?
“I’ll get
in your face, too, jerk,” Mike said kicking Nick’s bar stool, as he approached
them right after Jerry. “I’m ready to walk. You sounded like shit
tonight.”
“Fuck
off, Mike,” he said, as he threw down the second shot of the clear liquid,
relishing in the familiar burn in the back of his throat, and throwing his chin
out at Mike.
“Yeah,
I’m ready for that. Jerry. We ought to take that other gig we’ve been talking
about.” Nick spun around and shot a stare at Jerry, then Mike. He got off his
stool and in Mike’s face.
“You been
talkin’ to someone else, that’s bull. Don’t threaten me.”
“It’s not
a threat, dude, we have. Ask Shawn,” Jerry retorted.
Nick
twisted his head then his body to look at Shawn who nodded. Before Shawn could
say a word, Junior approached the four of them. He had a devious look on his
face. His roguish grin told Shawn he was up to no good, again.
“Hey,
boss it’s your lucky night. Guess who’s here,” Junior said with his hands in
his pocket and mischief in his eye.
“Who is
it?” He asked, stretching his neck to look around.
“Only
your favorite chick, and as a matter of fact, she’s one of your wannado's.”
Junior smiled with an obnoxious twist.
Shawn
feared the worse knowing that this was Katie Lynn’s hometown. He thought a face
to face with Katie would be good, but not with Nick drunk and the whack job
around. Shawn called Mike and Jerry together and spoke to them, sending them
off on assignment. Shawn ran his fingers
through his short, near-black, thick wavy hair. He shook his head, frustrated
and he threw his 5’11” one hundred and ninety pound body up against Junior’s 5’6”
one hundred sixty pounds.
“Get
lost,” Shawn said, as he pushed the little beady-eyed man, who in turn shoved
him back to get himself in front of Nick. “Junior, take off. You’re just going
to start trouble.” Nick twitched his head away from Shawn showing his
disapproval.
“I’m only
here to help out my boss by supporting him against all enemies, foreign and
domestic, and this one is definitely domestic, who needs to be dominated. You
think you can handle that, boss?” He said slurring and cackling.
“Junior,
what the hell are you talking about? What’s a wanna-do?” He grabbed his beer
off the bar guzzling half the bottle.
“You
know, one of the chick’s you want to do, but she won't give you the time of
day,” Junior said.
“I don’t
have any wanna-do’s. I get whomever I want, whenever I want, where ever I want,
and whatever I want.” He rubbed his beard on his lower right cheek. He
put both hands in his pockets, framing his manhood, proud of where it had
traveled and how much exposure it had gotten over the last few months. He gave
Junior an arrogant proud look, smiling mischievously.
“Yes, and
whatever diseases you can accumulate,” Shawn said raising one eyebrow, chiding
Nick.
“I know
what the hell I’m doing, I’m not a moron.” He slammed his beer bottle down on
the bar.
“Really,
I’m not convinced of that, lately,” Shawn said. He put his hands on his hips,
tucking his index fingers under his belt.
“Screw
you, Shawn,” Nick said, throwing his head back and causing Shawn to step back.
Nicolas Paul would never have spoken to his best friend in that manner.
“Junior,
take note. Watch a pro. You might learn something.”
He headed
off to the land of groupies to pick him out a fair maiden to prove his adroit
manhood to Junior. He spotted Brooke McIntosh in that group of beautiful,
ego-building, idol-worshiping groupies. He hesitated, having not been drunk
enough to find her appealing at that moment, and slithered back, foolishly
hoping she had not spotted him, yet.
“All
right, who is it?” He asked. Junior’s calculating smile recommenced on his
face, excited to be starting some serious fireworks.
“How
about a little piece of Katie Lynn Moore's ass tonight, boss. You think you can
dominate her tonight with anything you want?” Junior shoved Nick a bit with his
elbow.
“That
bitch is here?” He picked his head up and looked around, spying over all the
heads in the bar.
“Yeah,
and she had a little bit of something to say about you.” Junior signaled the
bartender for a beer and then leaned his elbow on the bar in between Shawn and
Nick.
“What did
she say?” He looked down at his sound engineer.
“Something
about the whack job as the stench from you as the skunk, spraying your stink
everywhere. Then she said something about your expanding middle coming close to
the size of your head.”
“Where is
she? I’ll fix her.” Nick’s jaw clenched as he made a fist. He started searching
with even more intensity, ready to strike from his wrath. “She walked into the ladies' room, just a
minute ago,” Junior said, pointing toward the restrooms with his head.
Shawn
shoved Junior. “You are an ass, Junior. Nick, don’t do anything you’ll
regret.”
“Shut up
Shawn. Everybody knows, Nick wants a piece of her, but he won’t admit which
piece.” Junior continued to taunt Nick who got in his face. Leaning down over
the short man to intimidate him, Nick corrected Junior’s supposition.
“I
wouldn’t touch that bitch, even with a bag over her head, or mine for that
matter. Get lost, Junior, before I find myself a new sound engineer. You
screwed with my mic tonight. I know you did.”
“Nick
stop talking out of your ass. You have no idea what you’re talking about,”
Shawn said. Junior flung his head back at Shawn and went off to stir the pot a
little more. He knew that telling the whack job of Katie’s presence there that
night could only increase the drama and maybe even start a catfight.
“Where is
she? Shawn, do you see her?” He raised his head and rubbernecked it, looking
around, reaching to look above the crowd.
“Nick,
don’t do it.” Nick signaled to the bartender to give him another beer. “Don’t
have another; it will just make things worse for you.”
“Mind
your business, Shawn.” Nick continued to lift his head over the crowd, trying
to spot who he thought was some obscure trouble-making author. “She’s going to
regret every piece of shit that came out of her skank mouth this past
year.”
“Are you
sure it’s not going to be the other way around?” Shawn said. “Take a good look
at her. Nicolas Paul would love her.” Nick’s head dropped from searching, and
he shot an angry glare at Shawn.
“What the
hell is that supposed to mean, Shawn? I’ve not changed that much. I’ve had to
adjust some, but it’s still me.”
“No, not
even close,” Jerry said. Nick glared at Jerry and then started looking around,
again.
“Shut up, asshole.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck vigorously. “How come
I am the only one here who can see the truth about her and her phony
façade?”
“You
wouldn’t know the truth about her, if it came right up and slapped you in the
face,” Shawn retorted.
“Shawn
you gotta tell him,” Jerry said, with Mike nodding in agreement. Shawn had just
informed Jerry and Mike that night who Katie Lynn Moore was, before he sent
them off to look for her.
“Tell me
what? Shawn, what do you gotta tell me? Is this about your new alleged gig?”
Nick spit out a sharp disbelieving burst of air with his tightened lips.
“Nick,
listen to me. Stop looking around, and look at me.” He dropped his beer bottle
on the bar and turned toward Shawn.
“Fine,
what is it?” Nick lowered his head and shoulders, putting his hands on his
lower hips.
“Bro, you
know Katie Lynn Moore, you’ve met her.”
“When
have I come in contact with that bitch? I don’t remember that.”
“It was
before she wrote—.” Just as he was about to finish, a fresh cold, wet beer
bottle bypassed Shawn’s face. Brooke reached up and put it in Nick’s face for
him to grab.
“Here ya
go, Nicky.” He grabbed the bottle from a very anxious and pleased Brooke.
She had
darted over to Nick after Junior reported this great news to her. This was an
opportunity of a lifetime for Brooke, and she was going to savor every
wonderful moment. They had a common enemy there. Her heart started racing, and
her mind went on a marathon of memories and moments to come in her delusionary
hope for the future.
Brooke
knew that it was only a matter of time before Shawn had enough and broke up
with his best friend. She was about to get her wish come true, unfortunately
for her, for only for fifteen minutes.
The dream come true would soon crash fatalistically into a brick wall to become
her worst nightmare. Nick gave Brooke a nod right before guzzling half the
bottle. He let out a big sigh as well as Shawn did with the disgust of Brooke’s
appearance.
“Thanks,
so, Shawn, when have I met the bitch?”
“Forget
it, dude. Too many itching ears,” Shawn said looking at Brooke.
“You’ve
met the bitch?” She asked.
“I don’t
think so, but Shawn, here seems to think so.” Shawn shot an angry stare at Brooke and shook his head.
“When did
my Nicky meet her? You haven’t met her, have you?” Brooke held on to his
bicep.
“If I
did, it must not have been all that special.” Nick pulled away from her grasp,
by putting his fists on his hips. “So,
let’s hear it, dude, when?” He asked, pushing Shawn, who backed up, shocked at
the aggressive attack. Mike stepped in between Nick and Brooke giving her a
shove.
“You
know, you need to get the hell away from here, you whack-job. Nick doesn’t need,
or want you to make things worse.” Mike curled his hand into a fist.
“Listen,
you sick twisted bitch, get lost. Nick can’t stand you. As a matter of fact, no one can stand you,” Jerry
said with clenched teeth. Brooke held on tighter and looked up to Nick.
“Nicky,
are you going to let them talk to me like that after what we—,” he interrupted
her by pulling his arm away, stepping forward one-step. “Hey guys, go easy on Brooke,” he said, pacifying
her, shaking his head no at her. He spotted the two women coming out of the
ladies’ room and move on to a table with two men. His vision was foggy, and
they were quite a distance away. People weaved in and out of his line of
sight.
“Is that
her, Brooke?” He asked, blinking furiously. Brooke put her arm around his bulky
arm with a full beer bottle in the other hand, ready to hand it to Nick.
“Yep,
that’s the slut. C’mon, let’s go.” She tugged at his arm when Jerry got up in
her face.
“Oh, now
she’s about to get a little Nick Thomas and not the good stuff,” Nick said.
Nick started to move toward their booth when Shawn stepped in front of him. He
held him back by putting his hand up against Nick’s chest, extending his arm to
hold him back.
“Don’t do
this. I mean it. You are going to regret it.” Shawn gave Brooke a look, showing
his annoyance at her appearance.
“Hey, you
stupid whore,” Mike said, getting in her face. “Your days of throwing yourself
at Nick are about to end. He’s going to find his teacher, and you’ll be out in
the cold doing tricks, again.”
Nick
twisted his head, with his body following promptly. He shot Mike an angry scowl
for even bringing up the topic of his Teach. Nick tucked his chin and furrowed
his brow with a quizzical look on his face. His tightly clenched jaw accused
Mike of no good.
“Mike,
what the hell are you talking about? You don’t know that.” He turned to Shawn.
“You wanna tell me what the hell’s going on here? You all are up to something.”
Nick’s stance became even more tense and stiffened at the mere mention of his
Teach, and Brooke noticed. She had a worried look on her face as if Mike and
Jerry knew something, bringing an air of doom around Brooke’s aurora.
“She’s
married,” Brooke said as she stepped up and hooked her arm around Nick’s
again.
“How the
hell would you know that?” Nick asked, spinning around, pulling away from her,
and putting his hands on his lower hips. “You don’t know her, either.”
“You told
me all about her, remember?”
“I didn’t
talk about her with you, I never would do that.”
“Don’t
you remember? I saw it on Facebook. I told you the other night when we were in
the bus in your back—.” Nick grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the guys,
scolding her. He got close to her face and lowered his voice, so as to keep
Shawn from hearing him.
“Shut up,
Brooke. Get out of here,” he said as he shoved her away. She ran off into the
ladies’ room, embarrassed that he denied her the truth in front of his friends,
again.
Nick turned
to look at Shawn as if he were a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie
jar. Shawn shook his head in disgust and crossed his arms across his chest.
“Damn it,
Nick, how the hell could you have, and with the whack job? I don’t even know
you anymore.”
“She’s
lying. I didn’t do anything with her,” he said, as he rubbed his nose and
squeezed his eyes closed to avoid eye contact with his best friend. With his
eyes closed that brief second, the darkness of his eyelids played like an
x-rated movie screen with a glimpse of his night with Brooke and Jenna. He
quickly turned away and continued to scan the restaurant, in attempt to change
the subject fast, having lied to his best friend. “I’ll bet anything my Teach went and married
that deputy. I heard from someone, I think, that she did,” his mind went into a
fog with a vague memory of someone telling him of her marriage to a cop and a
baby in her arms. “I’ll bet she’s even had his baby. She told me that any sign
of me with a groupie or anyone else, and she would marry him in an instant.
That damned Chelsea lied, and let everyone believe there was something going
on, and you know there wasn’t, don’t you?”
“Maybe
not with Chelsea, but apparently with the whack job, and who is to say you
didn’t screw Chelsea. I can’t believe anything you say anymore,” Shawn said
with his fists on his hips. Nick rubbed the back of his neck, pulling at his
hair in the side of his neck, ready to pounce on Shawn for accusing him of
messing with Chelsea.
“Dude,
you know I didn’t do anything with her. You know she set me up, and that
bastard Colton spread those rumors. He lost me that world tour, you know
that. You’re the one that told me. That
bitch Chelsea did this. She ruined my chances to get my Teach back when she wouldn’t
tell the truth. She lost me my Teach.”
A twinge
of sadness and regret came over Nick. He grabbed the beer from the bar and
guzzled the entire bottle, attempting to drown out his sadness and regret at
letting his reputation become that of a playboy.
“You did
that yourself, Nick when you started fooling around and partying all the time.
You blew it. Don’t go blaming anyone else. Besides, your teacher isn’t married,
nor does she have any kids. She’s waiting for Nicolas Paul to return,” Shawn
said. Nick’s body twitched, and he spun on his heel toward Shawn. He leaned
over the four inches difference in height into
his face, and Shawn knew he
struck a chord in Nick. Nick’s foggy brain started spinning and was mortified
to think that Shawn could know something and have kept it from him, all this
time? He tilted his head and beaded up his eyes with an accusatory look,
determined to get what information Shawn might have on his Teach.
“What the
hell are you talking about? How do you know? What do you know? C’mon dude,
where is she?” Shawn tucked his chin and crooked his head when Brooke returned
from being scolded, persistent to pursue her dream man. She hooked on to Nick’s arm with a fresh brew in
hand for him, muffling Shawn again from telling Nick the identity of the woman
who was about to take him down. “Tell me, Shawn, what do you know about my…,”
he paused, looking at Brooke who had a death grip on his arm. Shawn shook his head with Brooke nearby. Nick
pulled his arm away from Brooke, knowing she was what was keeping him from the
truth about his teacher.
“No way,
dude, not with her around,” he said, eyeing Brooke. “Look, if you’re so stupid
to screw her, and now you’re going to join forces with that twisted whack job,
you are worse off than I thought. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were even part
of that stupid Facebook page, like a little child,” he said, eyeballing Brooke
and raising one eyebrow. Nick turned toward Brooke, fearful of her letting it
known of his support in her own little smear campaign. Brooke faced Nick and
shook her head. She had promised to keep his part a secret, and she was already
on shaky ground right there. She wouldn’t risk it.
“That’s
not true, Shawn. He had nothing to do with it. I know who did it and it wasn’t
my Nick. He wouldn’t stoop so low.” She wrapped her arm around his, again,
assuming she could earn it by standing up for Nick, lying for him.
“Oh, but
you would, you little bitch,” Mike said, stepping and elbowing her with a
little shove, trying to break her grip on Nick’s arm. Nick and Brooke stared at
each other, and Shawn could read their faces and eyes. That was another thing
Brooke had on him.
“That’s
it, jerk. I’m done. You’re screwing her and smearing an innocent wonderful lady
who you don’t even know; or rather don’t even know who she is to you. Every
word out of your mouth lately, is a lie. You picked that up from her, didn’t
you? I told you to stay the hell away from her, and I told you to get lost,” he
said to Brooke. “But you know just how to get to him,” Shawn took the beer
bottle from Nick and put it up to his face, then slammed it down on the bar. “I
quit.” Nick threw his head back and tucked his chin in disbelief, having missed
the reference to who Katie Lynn Moore is to him.
“You quit
what?” He asked.
“I’m
quitting the band, and I quit you. Find yourself a new stage manager and
keyboardist.”
“You are
full of it, you won’t quit.” Nick stood over Shawn with his hands on his hips,
hovering over his best friend with anger spewing from his stance and
glare.
“Yes, I
will. If you don’t leave with us, right now, we all quit,” Shawn said as he
moved over to stand next to Jerry and Mike.
“Yep, I
quit,” Jerry said.
“Me too,”
Mike said.
“You guys
are full of it. You aren’t going to quit. You need your paychecks, and I pay
you quite well, more than you deserve, even.” All three of the men snorted out
a disgusted and furious laugh.
“That’s
bull, buddy. You may have signed my paycheck, but you wouldn’t be where you are
without me, and you know it,” Shawn
said.
“You’re
the one full of shit. I worked my ass off and got where I am, because I’m damn
good. I’m your bread and butter, there’s no way you’re going to quit. You need
me, and we have two more shows on this tour, before it’s done.”
“Correction,
you have two more shows, less a keyboardist, a lead guitar, and a bass player,”
Mike said with his arms folded across his chest.
“Good
luck finding replacements by tomorrow night, jackass,” Shawn said.
“Go to
hell, Shawn. You can’t quit, and even if you do, keyboardists are a dime a
dozen and so aren’t stage managers.”
“And lead
guitarists?” Jerry asked.
“And bass
players, right Nick?” Mike asked. Brooke thought a little prompting would put
the final nail in the coffin of Shawn’s control over Nick, leaving him all to
herself.
“Nicky,
they are just a bunch of ingrates. They won’t quit they, need you, way more
than you need them. Like you said, keyboardists, guitarists, bass players in
Nashville are a dime a dozen. They’ve been holding you back, all this time,”
Brooke said.
“Maybe
they have, I could have you guys replaced tomorrow.”
“Really,
and where are you going to get new friends, you ass?” Shawn asked. Nick’s
shoulders dropped with that remark, as he started to concede to the fact he
just gave his best friend his walking papers with all that he had said that
night. Mike edged over, getting in Brooke’s face and poked her chest.
“Hey
jackass, guess what else are a dime a dozen?” Mike asked, looking up at Nick.
He flicked Brooke under her chin. “Cheap, sick and twisted, whack job whores,
are a dime a dozen and so aren’t two-bit country singers. Fuck off, Nick
Thomas, you are a shit.” Mike shoved Nick as he walked away and stormed out the
door. Nick looked at Jerry.
“I’m with
Mike, only I would have said, scum-sucking whores and asshole two-bit country
singers.” Jerry flicked Brooke’s hair and shoved Nick some more as he walked
away. She turned to Shawn, giving him a snide smile, knowing he was next.
Shawn’s red-spoked eyes screamed abomination at Nick, and he felt the piercing
of his soul, at the thought of losing his best friend, but the drunkenness of
his pride remained far above the legal limit.
“What,
you got something to say to me?”
With his
eyes watering and his voice cracking, Shawn picked up the beer bottle and
shoved it into Nick’s chest, as he ended a five-year brother like friendship.
He slammed the bottle on the bar.
“You know
what, dude, you’re an ass. Find yourself a new friend. You may have to look for
a while, because no one likes you. The guys in the band have wanted to quit for
a while, and I’ve been holding it together for you. You sure haven’t deserved
me doing anything for you, lately. I’ve put up with all your self-centered
egomania far too long. Everything is always about you. Well, guess what? It’s
not. You have no clue what’s going on in anyone else’s life but your own. You
love only yourself, and like Mike said, you’re a shit; you and Tommy. You’ve
sunk to his level. I never thought I’d see it, but I think you’re even worse.”
He shook his head and turned to walk away. Nick walked over to Shawn. He
grabbed his arm and got in front of him. With Brooke out of ear shot, he
demanded to know about his Teach and what Shawn knew about her.
“Hey, go
ahead and quit, but before you do, tell me what you know about my Teach? Where
is she?” Nick demanded to know, as if Shawn owed that to him. Shawn shook his
head.
“With you
like this,” he said as he pointed his head in Brooke’s direction. “And the shit
you’ve pulled, there’s no way in hell I’d tell you anything about her. You
weren’t worthy then, and you’re miles from being worthy of knowing anything
now. Shit, you’ve sunk so low, you aren’t even worthy of the whack job.” He
pulled his arm away and shoved Nick, causing him to stumble and grab onto a
table to catch his balance. Nick looked down at the people sitting there, as
they looked up at him, in disgust of his drunken state. Shawn paused for a
second and then turned back. “I will tell you one thing, though, you, jackass,
if you go over there with this whore whack job and pick a fight with Katie Lynn
Moore, she’ll knock you on your ass. I’m only sorry that I won’t be able to see
it.”
“Bullshit,
she’s not gonna touch me. I’m bigger in name and in frame. She can’t do
anything to me.”
“No,
you’re a nobody in anybody’s eyes, anybody that matters, that is. Your blind
and your stupid, far more stupid than that tortoise brain that she so
appropriately labeled you.”
Shawn turned
and walked out of the restaurant, giving Katie one last glance, and debated
whether or not to warn her. He decided to leave well enough alone. He assumed
that her family, in particular the man with her, assuming he was the cop, would come to her defense and probably knock
Nick on his butt.
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