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I woke up with the worst headache of my life. Correction, the worst hangover of my life! What the hell did I have to drink last night? Once I opened my eyes and got acclimated to my surroundings I suddenly realized I wasn't laying on some lousy hotel bed but I had been sleeping in a jail cell. Just what the hell happened last night?

Sitting up, I ran a hand through my hair as I tried to think about what exactly had happened. The last thing I remembered was taking a shower...okay, something as stupid and as insignificant as taking a shower?? The sound of keys being placed in the cell door interrupted my mental interrogation. I looked up to see a heavy-set guard open the door.

"C'mon," he grunted as he motioned for me to exit the cell. "Hold your hands out," he directed with a nod. As soon as I did as he wanted, he placed a set of handcuffs on my wrists. Without further explanation, he roughly took my arm.

"Where are we going?"

After walking a few feet, I decided he hadn't heard me so I repeated the question louder.
He still didn't answer my question so I resigned myself to go where he was leading me. Maybe he was going to take me to see someone that will hopefully fill in the holes my brain had. My comfort was short-lived when we passed through a door that led to a small room. Immediately I stopped. "Hold on! I haven't spoken with my attorney!"

"See the phone on the wall?" the guard spat in a very unpleasant tone. "One call."

Crap....I don't even know my attorney's phone number! Who do I call??

"You don't have all day!"

"S-sorry....I'm thinking."
 
"Phone book's on the table....you have three minutes."

"Why am I here?"
 
"Like I would know?"
 
"It's just a simple question," I defended. "I honestly don't know."
 
"Not my problem fella."

Judging by the city name on the outside of the thick phone book I soon realized I was in Florida. Okay, back to the question of who should I call....Bean? Well since I have the hangover from hell I could probably place bets that Bean probably was suffering a hangover as well. I could call one of my parents but I quickly scratched that thought from my list. My family was so dysfunctional that my mom wouldn't be much of a help and dad....well he was busy with the new family in his life and certainly didn't have time for his fuck-up son. There was only one person I could count on since I was in Florida and at least I remembered that he was here working on an album.

"Could you free up one hand so I can at least dial the phone?"

"Figure out how to use the phone...other people don't have a problem."

"You must have lots of friends," I snapped. Okay, not a good idea to talk to someone that could actually pass for a bouncer at a bar but he was seriously wearing on my last nerve! As soon as I picked up the phone, I was directed to an AT&T operator!

"Operator assistance, what is the number you are trying to call collect to?"

"562-863-9861."

"Your name please?"

"Nick..”

“I’m sorry?”

I cleared my throat before I said my name again. This was so embarrassing! I had no clue as to why I was in this smelly jail and now I had to place a collect call! I silently prayed when I realized that since Aaron wouldn't recognize the number on his cell phone that he probably wouldn’t answer. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the operator announce that this was a collect call from Nick and asked if he would accept the charges. As soon as he agreed, I was instantly greeted by my baby brother.

"What the hell did you do now Nick?"

"Huh?" Great response.....

"Caller ID Nick, it said Hillsborough County Jail," Aaron replied, a hint of worry in his voice.

"Air I have no idea.....this is the first time anyone has told me where the fuck I am!"

"You don't know what you did??" he replied; panic was definitely in his voice.

"Seriously.....I have no idea. Can you come and bail me out?"
 
"Um....yeah I'll get there as soon as I can bro."

As soon as I hung up the phone, the gruff guard was quick to grunt for me to get up. As far as I was concerned, AC couldn't be coming to rescue me soon enough!