A few days, intensive ice pack therapy, a serious course of heavy painkillers, and hours of unconsciousness had provided Nick with the ability to trudge to the studio to continue working on an album. But not the passion. Sure, he sang the lyrics provided to him in the pitches and keys and harmonies that his band-mates assigned, but there was no spark of infatuation behind his beautiful voice to draw the audience into the romance. He hadn’t even written a single lyric for the entire album, seemingly voiceless in what he once considered an inspired world. When he felt so dead inside, there was no chance in rekindling the affair with the music that had made him famous. So, there he sat in the lounge area during their break, broken arm resting upon the arm of the couch, and head leaned back with his eyes closed, hoping for silence.
“So… Can I just shoot this proverbial elephant in the ass? ‘Cause it’s damn near crushing me and stepping on my enormous dick--”
“AJ,” Howie instantly interrupted with a disappointed chiding, causing Nick to force his eyes open. Per usual, the three members of the band were standing around him, staring at him as if he were some sort of bizarre exhibit. They made mental notes of all his injuries and cross-referenced those to previous injuries he had sustained. If they had any sense at all, they would realize that the wounds were getting worse as the relationship continued. But no one dared to make that connection. Not when she was so perfect and pristine. Instead, they looked toward Nick for a source to the damage done to his body, looking to fault him. Of course, it was his fault…
“He looks like fucking shit, D,” AJ maintained with a sharp scowl, deciding that he was the most knowledgeable about Nick’s path of destruction. “Like he handed the biggest, maddest, baldest mother-fucker with a flaming case of painful, bleeding hemorrhoids in the bar the nastiest barbed wire bat and told him to go buck wild!”
“You can be such an asshole, J,” Brian muttered, suddenly uncomfortable with the entire ordeal as he rooted in the ice bin for a soda. Each soda he found in the icy depths he made sure to release, searching deeper for another as if there were a golden can at the bottom. Ever since he had become involved with Leighanne, married her, and started a family; Brian had pulled away from Nick. He acted as if Nick’s friendship was just like the furniture Leighanne had disapproved of – easily disposable.
“…What happened this time, Nicky?” Howie inquired, his voice soft with an understanding that Nick knew he’d never have should the truth be revealed. Moving to sit beside Nick, he pressed a gentle hand to the younger man’s thigh, oblivious to the pained wince that resulted. Instead, he took Nick’s offhandedness as a sign of hostility and released a hard sigh. Things had been quite difficult for the quartet since Kevin had left. “We just care about you, Nicky--”
“I know, D,” Nick promised, already able to quote the entire intervention that they hoped to stir as if it were salvation. Much like Kevin had done with AJ when drugs and alcohol had consumed him. That was one of the reasons that Howie had stepped forward in the recent weeks, thinking that Kevin’s abandonment of the group had instilled Nick’s violent streak of self-harm.
“So, what’s the excuse?” AJ bluntly demanded. “How’d you fuck yourself up this time?”
“I don’t remember,” Nick murmured.
“You know when you can’t remember what the fuck happened, it might be time to stop drinking.”
Of course, Nick thought, let them assume that he was an alcoholic mess. It was easier to understand that than the truth. Who could honestly believe that his girlfriend had brutally beaten him and he couldn’t find the strength to leave her, too fearful of the repercussions? So he stayed with her, hoping that the next attack wouldn’t leave him in a small, wooden box with mourners standing at his gravesite. Of course, she played well to that of the unassuming assailant, especially when she breezed into the room with a thick bouquet of expensive dark red roses clutched against her chest. As always, she was a picture of perfection. Her short, fiery red curls coiled into perfect ringlets as they kissed the length of her face, electrifying the sleek radiance of her fabulous bone structure. Her olive eyes were always warm and inviting to any man within a close radius. She was innocently charming considering the splash of freckles over her nose and cheeks, small stature, and sweet figure, but loved to be quite the smoldering siren. Which made sense, given her career choice of modeling.
“The only significant other who ever bothers to visit us!” AJ immediately announced with joyous welcome when he heard her sultry voice. “How are you, Babe?”
“Perfect now that I’m with all my favorite boys,” Melanie Hart purred with appreciation, shifting the bouquet into one hand so she could embrace AJ. Even in her heels she had to pop onto the very tips of her toes to press a kiss to AJ’s cheek, though her lusciously painted red lips landed at the corner of his mouth. The sensuality of her kiss actually caused AJ to clear his throat with an uncomfortable chuckle. But, that’s how she was. An insatiable minx. “Though, I don’t want to bother you in the middle of all this exciting work. I just wanted to see how my Nicky was doing and bring him a special gift.”
“That’s sweet of you, Mel,” Howie approved with a smile, though he noticed Nick’s hesitation on moving to meet her. Instead, she moved toward him and collapsed onto his lap with a soft thump, discarding the bouquet easily. Recognizing the pained expression flooding Nick’s face, Howie sighed heavily, assuming the young man had done something in his drunken stupor to offend his lover. “Maybe you can talk some sense into him. He can’t seem to understand how he hurt himself this time…”
“He’s just a clumsy fool,” Melanie crooned, leaning over Nick to brush her fingers across his unmarred cheek. Smiling when she shifted once more over his lap, knowing she had inflicted pain, she caught his swollen and torn bottom lip into her mouth for a tender bite. “He’s fallen head over heels in love with me. Haven’t you, Nicky?”
“Head over heels,” Nick promised softly, pulling away when he experienced the warm metallic taste of blood. He could also recall the way he tripped over her feet when she jutted out a foot. How he stumbled down the stairs when her hands shoved hard into his back. The way he curled into a fetal position when the spiked back of her heels angrily poked into his flesh. Oh, yes, he had fallen head over heels for her…
Somehow Melanie’s brief visit to the recording studio had turned into an extended stay. Waiting with the producers outside the recording booth, she watched him perform the songs that were intended to melt the hearts of his fans. Yet, there she stood, cold and unmoved by the lyrics. She watched like a lioness that calmly stalked her prey in the hot savannah, waiting for the right moment to attack. Right now she would simply watch the scene and gain his trust once more. Then, as she followed his routine, she would wait for his fatal mistake. And then the violent attack. That’s what their relationship had boiled down to over the years, Nick feeling like the wounded creature that the lioness played with in a sadistic game of life. Enjoying the way his blood made long rivulets down his broken body. Feeding off the power of controlling his slow, agonizing death—
“Howie, you’re such a sweetheart to offer, but I can drive Nicky home!”
Jerking his head upward, Nick realized that he was now standing in the parking lot with Howie and Melanie. The painfully long day of working in the studio had somehow passed without much bloodshed, though when he looked between Howie’s prized Corvette and Melanie’s newly purchased Mercedes-Benz, he realized that the day was not over. Howie had insisted on taking him to the studio that day to assure that he would be present, most likely so that management wouldn’t have a conniption of epic proportions. So, now, he would be confined to into a small space with a volatile—
“What do you think about that, Nicky?”
Dumbfounded, Nick found Howie and Melanie looking to him expectantly, but there was no answer that he could provide. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he started to fuss with the sling encasing his broken arm, hoping he wouldn’t be physically reprimanded. “…What were we talking about?”
“I swear,” Melanie groaned, playfully nudging him in the ribs where the toe of her pointed heel had a habit of digging into. “You can be such a dumbass! Howie and Josephina want us to come out to dinner with them one night. He said he had mentioned it to you earlier, but—”
“The kid never listens to his answering machine, I swear,” Howie chuckled, noticing the tensing of Nick’s facial features. “But, what do you say? Sometime next week? I think it’d be nice. You two can pick the restaurant since you’re more familiar with the territory…”
“Sounds great, Howie,” Melanie promised with a magnetic smile, reaching to press kisses to both of his cheeks. “I’ll have Nicky call you with the details, okay?”
“Fantastic,” Howie promised, thinking nothing of the way her manicured nails brushed over his chest. Clearing his throat, he nodded toward Nick before fishing in his pocket for his keys. “Feel better, okay, Nicky?”
“Yeah… Thanks, D,” Nick answered with a small nod, muffling a yelp of surprise when Melanie yanked him toward her car. Hiding them away from Howie’s gaze as he pulled away, she was quick to push him against the side of the car, grabbing his collar to bring him down for a heated kiss. She wasted no time in eagerly thrusting her tongue into his mouth, catching his in a torrid dance of erotic undulations. There was a hunger behind the kiss, a raw passion that could never be explained to someone outside of their relationship, something that kept Nick in her clutches. “Mel…”
“I missed you so much, Pookie,” Melanie pouted when she pulled away, fussing with his mess of platinum streaked, dirty blonde locks. “And you really need to get your hair cut… You look like some beach-bum and I do not date beach-bums…”
“I’ll schedule an appointment,” Nick acquiesced, leaning back against the side of her car to brace his aching body. Sliding his good hand down the length of her body, he tentatively rested it upon the swell of her hip, thankful that she was being affectionate.
“Good.”
“…Are we really going out with Jo and D?”
“Of course we are. If you would have told me about it earlier, I could have made an excuse. Especially since I’ll be off to the Bahamas for that swimsuit calendar I was telling you about… But, we can’t duck out now. I can’t have that whore showing me up in front of your friends. They’ll think she’s better than me.”
“Baby—”
“We’ll go to my favorite and you’ll insist that you pay the entire bill. I’ll have to make sure to schedule an appointment with my stylist that morning and then go shopping... I’ll need your credit card again—”
“Mel—”
“I deserve this special treatment,” Melanie suddenly fussed, looking skeptically toward her lover. “Don’t I, Pookie?”
Afraid to say no, Nick nodded while pressing an apologetic kiss to her forehead. “Of course you do, Sweetheart. We’ll even get you some nice things for your trip to the Bahamas. I’ll miss you.”
“You’ll call me every day. It won’t be so bad. Now, come on, let’s go home. I need a long soak and a good foot rub,” Melanie decided, dropping her keys into Nick’s hand. “You drive.”
‘Whatever you say,’ Nick thought, falling into the normal routine of the cycle that might eventually get him killed.
