Secrets
Everyone has secrets; some worse than others. How far would you go, what measures would you take to make sure that the single most important secret in your life stays a secret? Would you lie, hide things or even hurt the people that mean the most to you just to keep your secret safe? What would you do if one day you suddenly realize that this secret you have been holding onto, the one thing that meant so much to you, is actually the one thing that is killing you? Would you let go of your secret and tell someone? Would you try to change your ways? Or would you hang onto that secret as tight as you could, never letting go, until one day that secret consumes you?
I have a secret. Actually I have many, but there is one secret I don’t think I can keep anymore. My secret is to keep someone else’s secret quite. I know everything, and I mean everything there is to know about him. And as proud as I am to be able to say that, I hate it at the same time. I really wish I didn’t know what I know because now, when he needs someone the most, it all lands on my shoulders to figure out what the right thing to do is. I am the only other person in the whole world besides him who knows his secret, who knows the truth. Not his parents, siblings, friends, band-mates, management, media and certainly not the fans. Just me. And that’s who he turned to the day he realized his secret had taken over his whole world.
I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. Not three hours ago I sat in front of a man I care so deeply about and watched him crumble to pieces at the revelation that everything he ever knew, his way of life and is life period, was coming to an end. When he called me I could hear in his voice something wasn’t right. He was both eerily calm and anxious as he asked me over to his place. Once I got there things were worse than I could have ever imagined. He had already destroyed the house; glass was shattered in every hall, pictures and precious awards strewn across the floors, every piece of furniture had been upturned and as soon as I spotted the trickle of blood leading into the bathroom my heart leapt into my throat. Seeing him collapsed in a heap of sobs on the cold tile floor, his hand wrapped in blood soaked paper towels gasping for breath. brought tears to my eyes. I had no times for questions, even though my mind was reeling, because his sobs were quickly interrupted by the sharp sound of glass breaking under my feet as I slowly entered the room. The second he saw me he let out deep anguished yell, jumped to his feet and proceeded to punch the wall while letting out what I assumed to be screams of both anger and pain. It was only when I yelled his name to stop that he finally turned around gasping for breath, fists clenched just glaring at me. I took a moment to take in the sight of him raging mad but as soon as I looked in his eyes I saw all the pain, sadness and most of all fear. I softly said his name once more showing my sorrow and compassion towards him and at that moment he gave in; fell into my arms crying away every feeling he had ever bottled up inside. He held me so tight it felt like he needed verification that I was there or maybe even that I wasn’t going anywhere.
After some passed and he relaxed as best he could he finally revealed exactly what it was that had him so worked up. He was dieing. Or so he claimed was the case after being diagnosed with a serious heart condition. But it wasn’t just any condition, it was a disease spawned from the very secret he and I had both been hiding for so many years. He once again begged me not to tell anyone; that he would take care of it himself. He would talk to the doctors to figure out what to do and do whatever it took to get better. I knew it wasn’t that simple. This secret he was keeping was not something that he could fix on his own and on top of that it was now putting his life at risk. It was a breaking point; the opportunity I had been waiting for so many years was sitting right in the palm of his hands and in that very moment I could see it slipping away from him before he even had a chance to grasp it. It was at that moment when I realized I couldn’t keep his secret anymore. He would hate me, but if that meant saving his life, so be it. So what was this sacred secret I had been keeping protected? And who was I keeping it for? The one person I turned to for everything and who I relied in times of need. The very same person who was sitting in front of me and relying on me in his biggest time of need. He is my best friend Nick Carter; an alcoholic and a drug addict.
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
This story stemmed from the recent People article about Nick. I do not claim that Nick is a drug addict nor an alcoholic in real life. I do not know of the actual circumstances of his life change; this is purely a fictional take on his recent admissions and is not meant to be taken offensively.
This story stemmed from the recent People article about Nick. I do not claim that Nick is a drug addict nor an alcoholic in real life. I do not know of the actual circumstances of his life change; this is purely a fictional take on his recent admissions and is not meant to be taken offensively.
