“Ah, Mr. Carter. Nice of you to show up to your sentencing this time. You’ve really done it to yourself, haven’t you?”

“Yes’m.” He couldn’t look up. He could barely breathe. Last time this happened, he was able to slide out of it with no mark on his record at all. But this time? Oh no, he wasn’t smart enough to learn. Public drunkenness, assault, resisting arrest…yet again. He’d barely cooled his pen from the stupid letter of apology he had to write to the cop for being insolent before. And now, here he stood appearing in court for sentencing yet again. It didn’t seem so funny anymore.

“I see that you’ve not learned your lesson, and now you’ve just become a damned drunken nuisance. Do you have anything to say before I sentence you?”

“No, ma’am.” Where any of the guys here? Probably not. They cut all ties with him since the end of tour. Only time anyone showed up was for a scheduled appearance. Otherwise, he might as well fall off the face of the planet…until he tries to do something for himself. Then, suddenly, they call claiming selfish motives. How are you supposed to care about a group that cares nothing for you? How are you supposed to care about yourself when no one else does either? “Go ahead,” he thought, “toss my ass in jail. No one will miss me anyway.”

“Well, first off you will participate in a court approved alcohol treatment program. Out-patient.”

Nick finally looked up at the judge. Alcohol treatment. He just drank when he went out. What the hell? He was no alchy like AJ, dammit. He had it under control. Sorta. Maybe. Didn’t he?

Looking back at the table, wondering what exactly would make a stain of that color on wood, he held his breath wondering what else was going to come down.

“And we obviously need a little behavior modification here. So, I’ve worked it out with the Ruskin Community Center to have you begin working with one of their uh, more troublesome youths.”

Nick’s head slowly lifted to look at the judge. She had to be kidding. He got drunk and punched someone at the bar and now he had to baby sit some delinquent?

“This will work similar to the Big Brothers Big Sisters Program. Have you heard of that, Mr. Carter?”

“Yeah, but uh…Your Honor. My work. How am I gonna…”

“…that’s why we went with the smaller center. BBBS has strict guidelines before they’ll agree to have you mentor. This center is in need of some adults to help and they are willing to work with your schedule and the court for an agreeable resolution to your case. I think you’ll find it desirable.”

Desirable? Hardly. Nick looked over to his attorney who was suddenly silent and submissive. Obviously this had been worked out ahead of time and he no longer had a voice in the matter. He didn’t have a voice in anything in his life now, did he?

Despite the overwhelming urge to just buckle and sit down, Nick was able to continue standing as the judge finished her sentencing. No jail time. One night had been enough, thank you very much. From that point on he totally zoned out. He thought he heard some sum of money, the specifics of this stupid mentorship program and of course, out-patient rehab. All because he punched his friend and was a bit of a...well, of an ass.

How the hell was he supposed to be a positive influence in some kid’s life if he couldn’t even get his own shit together? This was insane. It was backwards. It was wrong. It was what he was going to have to do. Period.

“You ready for your new mentor, Solana?”

Tossing a stack of manila folders on her desk, the woman ran a hand through her long black hair and sighed. “Hardly. Some dumb-assed celebrity who had a drunken night. How in the hell is he supposed to help Ben!?” Plopping down in her seat, she buried her face in her hands. “I’m sick of this, Barry. Sick to death of it. We need trained mentors for these kids.”

“He’ll get some training today. He’s got you. You’re the best we have.”

“Oh yeah…I’m the ONLY we have. Why did you agree to this, Barry? Ben needs specialized care.”

“Yep, and I just…I dunno. I have a gut about this guy. He’s innately a very good person. He’s just lost. So’s Ben. Maybe they can find each other while they’re looking.”

“You’re a damned romantic. It’s nauseating.”

“Eh, it works with the wife.”

“Well, it doesn’t work on me. This kid’s reality is not romantic at all and you know it.”

“Yes, Lani, I do, but I also know Nick. At least a little. You should see him with his sibs.”

“Those are SIBS, Barry!” She slammed her hand on the desk and got up to pace…to make her fourth cup of coffee for the morning…to reshuffle the papers flying off of her desk. To do anything to control her bubbling temper. The angrier she got, the thicker her Spanish accent became…the more her hands flailed and her black eyes flared. “You can’t compare his relationship with his sibs with that of a kid on the verge of lifelong delinquency. You just can’t.”

“Well, you’re going to have to make it work. It’s court ordered for him and for Ben. They think it’ll work. I happen to agree.”

“You’re all a bunch of idiots. This is not going to work. Ben will not listen to some boy band drunk and he’s not going to have an ounce of patience for Ben’s shit.”

“We have to give it a chance, Lani. If it doesn’t work out, then we’ll contact the court and try something else. What other options do we have for Ben right now anyway, huh?”

Finally giving up, she sunk into her chair again, throwing her head back and spinning around. Maybe if she got dizzy this wouldn’t be so painful. “He’s worn all of his options out, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, he has. And he’s too young for us to give up on him. None of his crimes are severe enough for juvi, but he’s headed there. Let’s see if these two can help each other, huh?”

“What choice, do I have?”

“None.”

“Then bring it on, dammit.”