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** BRIAN **

I padded into the kitchen and plucked a random K-Cup out of the holder. This was my favourite time of the day; the time when nobody else was awake, when I was free to do whatever I wanted without being questioned or pestered to do something else. I jammed the K-Cup into the Keurig, slid a mug under the spout, and listened as the machine hummed to life. The clock on the microwave read 7:22 A.M., meaning that I had at least a full two hours to myself until Leighanne and Baylee decided that they were ready to greet the day.

The machine sputtered in completion, and the welcoming smell of coffee invaded my nostrils. I pulled the now steaming mug out from under the spout, grabbed a box of Honey Nut Cheerio’s out of the cupboard, and headed for the living room. Settling myself on the couch, I plunged my hand into the box of cereal and began popping the delicious round pieces into my mouth two at a time. There was nothing better than eating dry cereal straight from the box - nothing.

I paused to take a long swig of coffee before I began searching for the remote. My plan was to catch up on some sports highlights before watching the final episode of ‘The Walking Dead’ on Netflix. I desperately needed to find out what happened in the finale before the next season started. That was the problem with being on tour for so long; you tended to miss out on certain aspects of popular culture when you were a part of popular culture yourself. Case in point, I still hadn’t made it all the way through ‘Dexter’.

Spying the remote on the coffee table, I pushed a pile of Leighanne’s fashion magazines out of the way and reached for it. It was then that I noticed the blinking light on my phone. Forgetting about the remote, I pulled my phone off of the table and turned it over in my hands. I must have forgotten to take it upstairs the night before.

“Whoa!” I whistled as the screen sprang to life. I blinked a few times to make sure that what I was seeing was real. I had been expecting to see a few email notifications and maybe a missed text message or two. I hadn’t been expecting to see ten missed calls from Kevin; the earliest of them having come in at 4:27 A.M.

I tossed the box of cereal onto the coffee table and took another sip of coffee to calm my nerves before I pressed the button to dial Kevin’s number. Kevin wasn’t the type of guy who called people incessantly; something serious must have happened in order for him to have called me so many times without leaving a message.

“Brian!” Kevin’s voice rang in my ear. “I’ve been trying to call you.”

“I saw that.” I took another sip of coffee and forced a short laugh. “You must have called me like ten times since four thirty ...”

“Why didn’t you pick up?” Kevin sounded testy now; a clear indication that he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. “How irresponsible can you possibly be?”

“I left my phone in the living room ...” I let the rest of my excuse go unsaid. Kevin wasn’t just mad, he was clearly upset.

“Brian ...” Kevin took a deep breath and started again. “I have something – I received some news this morning.”

“News?” My fingers tightened around the phone. “What kind of news? Bad news?” Oh God, what was he going to tell me? Was he going to tell me that he had cancer? Was he going to tell me that he was dying?

“It’s bad.” Kevin choked. He was having trouble getting the words out; a characteristic that was very un-Kevin like.

“Are you dying?” I blurted out the question without giving it any thought. The way he was behaving was causing me to panic. “Please, God, don’t tell me that you have cancer or some other kind of horrible life-ending disease!”

“I’m not dying.” The way he said it made it sound like a lie. “The bad news isn’t about me.”

“Then who is it about?” If it were at all possible, I would have reached through the phone and shaken him. I hated how it always took him so long to get to the point.

“It’s about Nick.” Kevin’s voice started to shake as soon as he said Nick’s name. “I found out this morning – I don’t know any details really – AJ heard it on the news – NYPD came to the door – I have to go to Tennessee – Lauren’s not around – he listed me as a contact for his next of kin.”

“Kev, you’re not making any sense.” I could hear my own voice rising in trepidation. As far as I was concerned, Kevin might as well have been speaking a foreign language. He was all over the place, stating random thoughts that didn’t seem to be in any way connected to each other. To top it all off, he sounded like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “What’s the bad news? What does any of what you just said have to do with Nick?”

Kevin drew a deep breath and tried to continue, but I cut him off before he could start. “Did you say that Nick listed you as a contact for his next of kin?” My brain was working overtime, pulling the random pieces of information that Kevin had given me together. “Kevin, why are you going to Tennessee? The police only contact next of kin if ...”

“Brian, I’m so sorry!” Kevin blurted out. “I can’t bring myself to say it. I thought that I could be strong and hold it together long enough to be able to tell you, but as soon as I heard your voice I started to lose it. I think I’ve been in shock since I found out. It’s all over CNN ...”

CNN, my brain grabbed on to the tiny piece of information and refused to let go. I grabbed the remote and aimed it in the direction of the television. My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely press the buttons. Even without Kevin saying the words, I knew what I was going to see before I saw it. Somewhere in the far reaches of my mind, my brain had been able to make the connection, but I still balked at the headline: ‘Nick Carter found dead in Tennessee’.

“Kevin, you need to say it.” My voice was so wobbly that it didn’t even sound remotely like mine. “You need to tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know what happened.” Kevin was crying now. “The police came to my door and told me that they can’t find Lauren and that Nick is – that Nick has been – that Nick is gone.”

‘Gone’; the way that Kevin had phrased it made it sound so final. A part of me actually wished that he had been able to use the word ‘dead’. For some reason, ‘dead’ seemed reversible and ‘gone’ seemed permanent. The reasoning made no sense, but then again nothing was really making sense to me at the moment.

Nick’s smiling face was staring back at me from the television. CNN had pulled one of the photos from our most recent promotional shoot. It had been taken right before we had embarked on the European leg of the tour. Nick almost looked like he was smirking in the photo, and an overload of memories washed over me as I continued to stare at his face. I had been distracting Nick during his solo shots; creeping around behind the photographer and pretending to be a member of the paparazzi. The result had been a series of pictures that our marketing team had been unable to use because Nick had either looked downright annoyed or overly amused.

A searing pain shot through my stomach and I fumbled frantically with the remote; desperate to turn off the TV. I couldn’t look at Nick’s face for even a second longer. I was going to be sick, or collapse, or possibly both. I hadn’t heard a single word that the reporter had said, but it didn’t matter. Kevin had summed up the entire situation with one word: ‘gone’.

Kevin was still talking. His distraught voice was drifting through the phone’s tiny speaker, but I wasn’t listening to a word that he was saying either. I lowered the phone from my ear and disconnected the call, not caring that I had just hung up on my cousin in the middle of a crisis. The world could have imploded and I wouldn’t have noticed; all I could think about was Nick.

I doubled over and clutched at my stomach, allowing my phone to clatter to the floor. The device vibrated against the wooden panels and Kevin’s face flashed on the display, but I made no move to answer his call. The tears were streaming down my face, dripping off of my chin and splashing onto the legs of my track pants. I wrapped my arms tighter around my midsection and curled my upper body towards my legs, my forehead resting on my knees. My whole body felt hallow and numb. The pain in my stomach was slowly creeping its way up into my chest, and I involuntarily let out a wounded, guttural gasp before launching into another round of shaking sobs.

“Dad?”

I lifted my head at the gentle feeling of Baylee’s small hand on my shoulder. I had no idea how long he had been standing there, how much he had seen, or how much he had heard of my conversation with Kevin. The tears were blurring my vision, but I could tell by the tremor in my son’s voice that I was scaring him.

“What’s wrong?” Baylee sounded on the verge of tears himself. “Why are you crying like that?”

“Nick is gone.” I choked on the words and released a fresh wave of tears. I could feel them sliding down my face, the salt gathering at the corners of my mouth. “Nick is gone!”

“Where did he go?” Baylee had wedged himself into the small space between my body and the edge of the couch. His eyes were wide and worried. “Why are you crying because Nick is gone?”

Hearing the words come from my son’s mouth was enough to send the pain spiraling upwards. I grabbed at my chest and attempted to take a calming breath. This wasn’t right; Baylee shouldn’t be seeing me like this. I recognized that I shouldn’t have announced Nick’s death in the way that I had. I should have sat Baylee down and told him properly once I had calmed down, but it was too late for that now.

“Nick is – Nick has gone to – Nick went – Nick is in heaven.” I stammered out a response while massaging my chest. I drew in a long, shaky breath and forced myself to look at Baylee. I had to get myself under control for his sake.

“Heaven?” Baylee repeated the word slowly and purposefully. He leaned his head on my shoulder and I immediately adjusted my position so that I was able to pull him against me. He accepted my embrace without hesitation, curling his arms around my still aching chest.

I couldn’t remember the last time that Baylee had voluntarily shown me so much affection. I understood that he was getting older and that he needed his space, but I often found myself missing the little boy who had wanted nothing more than to curl up on my lap and listen to me sing. The fact that Baylee wasn’t pulling away from me now was a clear indication of just how mature he had become; he knew that I needed him.

“Can Nick see us right now?” Baylee asked; struggling to keep his voice even. “Do you think he’s watching us?”

I smiled through my remaining tears. Baylee was trying his best to stay strong and I loved him for it. “I hope so.”

“How did he – how did he die?”

“I don’t know yet, Bay.” Fresh tears were simmering in my eyes and I squeezed my eyes shut in an effort to keep them from escaping.

“Dad?” Baylee sniffed. I could feel his tears starting to soak through my shirt. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. It – it kinda – it hurts.”

I tightened my grip on Baylee and gave up on my battle to suppress my tears. “That’s okay, Bay. I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do either."