March 12th, 2012
2 A.M.
New York City
"Nick, we're going to have to ask you to leave. We don't need your shit here anymore, man. Enough is enough. Rob, you wanna escort him out of here?"
"Ahh, one last 'fuck you' stab in the back, and some lovely parting words from the one and only David Luna." I didn't need this. I was a heartbroken man, just needing a quick fix in the form of alcohol.
"ENOUGH, Nick. You are no longer wecome here." And just like that, he was gone.
I tried to balance myself as Rob's freakishly huge hand grabbed me by the arm, but my feet gave way and I nearly tripped in my drunken stupor. My head felt like it was going to explode, the loud music had become such a nuisance all of a sudden. I held back the urge to vomit all over this place, closing my eyes for just a second. Maybe, just maybe, I'd open them and this would all be over. And Lauren would still be with me, lying next to me on the Hilton king sized bed that I have oh so indulgently inhabited for the past 3 months.
But when I opened them, I saw nothing, just the pitch black abyss of the New York night. I turned my head back slowly to catch a last glimpse of Rob's face. He stared at me, his expression short of disappointment, then disappeared inside the graffiti covered back door of the club.
"FUCK YOU, FUCK ALL OF YOU!" I looked like an idiot, waving my middle fingers in the air to no one, as I stumbled across the sidewalk, suddenly needing to regain balance again. I trudged towards the crossing post in front of me and pressed my shoulder against it, my body suddenly feeling like it was going to give up on me. "Ahhh, God damn this FUCKING headache!" I wanted to tear my hair apart, shove my fingers inside my mouth so I can finally puke, but the thought of those paparazzo’s catching any glimpse of my "disgraceful behavior" again triggered the smarter part of my brain. If there ever were such a thing.
I got up, using the post to push my body back into a straight position, and stood waiting. For what, I don't know. I took a step forward...so far, so good. And another one. Three, four, five and I was on a roll. I just needed to get inside the lobby, walk the few more steps towards the elevator, and down the hall to my hotel room. With the Hilton in sight just a block away, I was feeling slightly more conscious. I just needed to sleep this off, and tomorrow would be another day. No one would need to know, especially not Brian. I couldn't take anymore of his lectures. I was fine, perfectly fine in fact. I was just going through a rough time.
I must have blacked out because the next thing I knew when I opened my eyes, it was morning, and I was lying in my Hilton king sized bed. I must have found my way back to the hotel and didn't even bother changing. I looked to my left, but saw no sight of Lauren. And I never will again. How I wished this was all a crazy nightmare and it was just taking me a little longer to wake up. Maybe I needed to learn some lesson here; dreams work in fucked up ways sometimes.
But I knew this was reality, that this is what my life had become. ‘Living out of suitcases’ was no longer something you said when you were rich and famous, and traveling all over the world. I lived in the same hotel for no more than 3 months before being kicked out for incessantly outrageous and disruptive behavior. We have a reputation to uphold, Mr. Carter, and we request that you leave immediately. Hilton, Marriot, Sheraton. Those were the names of my companions, my amigos. I was a drunken fool with nothing to live for anymore, nothing to be happy about. This was my life, and it was fucking depressing.
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something on the chair across from me. I know I was a little out of it last night, but I would have definitely remembered bringing a woman back to the hotel. I got out of bed and felt disgusted by the smell of my clothes and the sour taste in my mouth that last night’s festivities left me with. The migraine was gone, but I still felt a little uneasy as I neared the chair. There, on the seat, was a vintage watch that I knew did not belong to me, or any of the other guys. I picked it up and glanced around the room, wondering if there was anything here that would help me remember what happened last night. But all I saw was this watch, with an engraving on the back. I brought it up closer so that I could make out the letters:
To my little seniorita, I love you.
And suddenly, just like that, I had a purpose. I need to find this girl. After all, she saved my life.
Story Notes:
*I haven't written a fan fiction story since 2004, when I started majoring in Journalism. This story is also loosely based on something that happened to someone close to me. Please be gentle with reviews as I get back into the flow of things! :)
Author's Chapter Notes:
*I did not intend to portray Nick as the typical, alcohol addicted character that he seems to be in most of the stories I have read in the past. I just think the character flaw fits into the overall plot of the story. Hope you enjoy!
