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“Thank you! L.A. I FUCKING love you!” A.J. shouted to the cheering crowd as he exited the stage. “Shit, I don’t remember all this sweat. I look like I poured water on myself.” He motioned to Nick for a towel sitting on an amplifier.

“Here you go Grandpa McLean.” He smirked as he tossed the towel to him.

A.J. caught it and wiped his forehead, “Go fuck yourself.” He continued to wipe the rest of the sweat off his face as he walked to a stool and took a seat. He inhaled deeply to regain his breath. He caught Nick in his peripheral vision and noticed his relaxed frame and glassy eyes. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Nick couldn’t wipe the grin off his face, “Just enjoying your music.” He took a swig and finished the last bit of alcohol in his glass, “You killed it J.”

“I feel like I killed myself.” He watched Nick fumble with the glass as he placed it on the table by the worn sofa he was sitting on. Watching him feel his alcohol made A.J. crave a cigarette even more than he already was. He looked around at his belongings and spotted his pack. When it was in his hands he opened it, pulled one out and lit it. After one puff he felt whole again.

“You couldn’t wait till we got outside? I don’t think you can do that back here.” Nick whispered.

“It’s LA. You can do whatever the fuck you want to.” A.J. took another drag and exhaled. He could tell it was going to be a long night having to put up with Nick and his changing moods.

“This week has been fucking nice. You have no idea how much I’ve needed to relax.”

“I think you are sobering up.” A.J. spotted a bar worker pass through and shouted at her, “I need another one for my friend here!” The young lady nodded upon her exit.

“Aw, are you trying to get me drunk? Take advantage of me later? J, I don’t think I roll that way.”

“Don’t make me regret having you here.” He said with a blank stare on his face. The young lady walked back in with a drink for Nick. He accepted it with his Carter smirk. A.J. shook his head, always the heartbreaker.

“You have a wife Nick.”

“Who isn’t speaking to me,” Nick took a big gulp of his drink and relaxed as the alcohol poured through his veins. A.J.’s curiosity was roused. He sensed there was something more happening in his friends’ life, but he resisted the urge to question it. Tonight was about enjoying the evening with his longtime friend.

“What must we do next? Hit the strip?” A.J. put out his cigarette and pulled out another. Nick’s face lit up like he had received a new video game, “Is that a yes?”

“Hell ya! Let’s fuck some shit up!”

***

"Get in the fucking car Nick!" A.J. yelled as he stood next to the open door. He was reaching his limit with his drunk friend. Nick resisted yet again,

"I don't want to go! You can't make me." Nick paced in the parking lot.

"You can't go back in, you made that fucking clear when you started a fight with the bouncer!"

"He had it coming!" He continued to pace, this time stumbling on his feet as he turned.

"Shit Nick, look at you! I don't know what you are thinking but knock it off. Get in the car!" A.J. grabbed his arm and started pulling him to the door. "Stop fighting. You're acting like a fucking child!"

"She started this. I didn't do shit."

"Who started what Nick?"

"I am NOT in denial. I'm fucking Nick Carter, there is nothing that can hurt me."

"Get in the car Nick," A.J. released his hold from his arm, "We can talk about this later. Right now we need to go." The paparazzi were getting closer with their cameras. They had lost them, but their time was running out.

"No! I don't fucking care if they see us!" Nick walked away, pacing again.

"If you don't get in this fucking car now I'm leaving you here!"

"Fine! I'll walk home!" Nick stumbled on his feet again, this time, A.J. caught him before he fell down.

"Fuck Nick, please just get in the car."

"It's beating so fast. Why is it beating so fast? I can't be sick, I can't be sick." Nick repeated.

"If you're going to vomit, do it in the grass."

"Everythings spinning Alex." Nick vomited before they reached the grass.

"Fuck," A.J. turned back and noticed the paparazzi call one of their names, "Nick we gotta go." He vomited again. A.J.'s concern for his friend overshadowed his anger, "Come on Nick, let's get you home." He pulled him up and walked towards the door. His lack of resistance had A.J. concerned.

"It hurts Alex. Why does it hurt?" a pit formed in A.J.'s stomach, that was the second time he had called him Alex.

"What does?"

"I can't breathe. No! Not the front seat, I need to lie down." Nick's right hand was on his chest. A.J. closed the passenger door and opened the back door. Nick crawled into the seat and laid down on his side. Once his feet were in, A.J. closed the door and hurried around the back to the driver side door. Once inside the car, he noticed a rancid smell, he turned to see vomit running down the seat. Nick still had one hand on his chest, "Fuck Nick, we're gonna get you home." He put the keys in the ignition and heard a faint voice as he pulled out of the stall, "I'm not gonna make it home."