Four weeks following his discharge from the hospital, and his brush with death, Nick sat still in his chair taking in the words that filled the room. Shameful and broken, every other word cut off like a phone call in the middle of the woods in some unknown town far out in the middle of nowhere, right between lost and forgotten. Some boy not much younger than himself stood there telling his story.
There was always a story. Some tragic story depicting the path that led them to where they are now. The heavily bearded man who’s ex wife won’t allow nowhere near his son, the typical barely teenage girl neglected by her parent, got in with the wrong crowd, you know how that one goes. The redhead with waving hair two seats down from him, a mother of two who lost her kids to the state because she couldn’t stay clean. Nick observed her as her fingers nervously fiddled with her cup of coffee and wondered if this might just be the last chance she would get and if so, was she aware of this? Did she realize if she failed once more, she would lose everything she loves for good this time? Did any of them realize it? Hell, he thought, for most people in this room this was the last chance. Was it his as well?
Prior to a few weeks ago, Nick would never have believed in a million years that he could have anything in common with these people. It wasn’t that he ever looked down on them. It was that he had been blessed with more than most people ever got; he had a good job, a ton of money and legions of swooning girls who in a heat beat would give an organ for just five minutes with him. When he thought about it long enough most people would kill for a life like that. It was a life that most can only dream of, yet here he was, no different from anyone else here. Different backgrounds, different lives, different stories yet the same. In the end, they were all the same. Lost souls trying to find their way in a world that could so easily would swallow them up and forget they had once walked it.
“…and that’s why I’m here.” The boy’s words muffled towards the end. Nick stirred in his chair and his stomach turned. When he was first told that he was being court ordered to attend a rehabilitation program his first reaction was “hell no.”
“I’m not going to no AA shit. Ain’t doing it.”
“You have to.” Said a man in his mid forties with subtle grey hair lining the sides of his face. Nick had always thought he looked like Reed and primarily on occasion he would call him that and continued to do so throughout the years he’d known him until eventually the name just stuck. Reed was the first person whom he’d contacted when the accident happened even in his state then he wasn’t far out of it enough to not realize the severity of the situation. Although he knew the legal consequences, the part of him that felt hugely responsible for what happened to Irene was ready to take any punishment that would be handed to him graciously.
Reed, whose real name is Grady Shane, had been in Delaware with his wife and daughter, attending a three-day family reunion when he’d seen the news report early that morning. When he got Nick’s frantic call, Grady had already packed and boarded a plane to California. When he had reached the hospital, he found in his client’s room a familiar dark haired woman in a grey skirt that hung below her knees and a white pinned striped shirt. However, he couldn’t remember exactly where he’d seen her before.
“That shit’s for addicts, I’m not an addict.” He assured.
“No, of course not.” The woman who had introduced herself as Lydia Riley, Nick’s publicist reassured. “No one is saying that you are, but this incident is already setting off a lot controversy, there’s a lot of angry people and if it’s not addressed immediately, I’m afraid it might have a devastating effect on your career. It could be the end of the Backstreet Boys. Going to rehab would be the best move at this point.”
The last thing he cared about was his career and he needed to fight the urge to tell Lydia to fuck off. As if right on cue, Reed interrupted, “you have no choice, it’s mandatory. If you don’t go you’ll be facing criminal charges.”
So now, here he was in a room full of drug addicts trying to make a recovery, to get their lives back. He’d had a fit when he found that it would be an in-patient therapy. When he'd entered the program, he had undergone detoxification, which had proven to be harder than he’d expected but at least he’d live through it.
Now it was his turn to speak, he stood up and cleared his throat. He always dreaded this part. “I’m Nick,” he closed his eyes and took a deep breath not wanting to say it. “I’m an addict.” His first session didn’t turn out to be a very promising start. He’d refused to admit an addiction and even now as he stood saying it, he still couldn’t believe it but Lydia had told him that he had to even though he wasn’t because of the order the facility would report back to the court and depending on the evaluation he could still do time. So he forced the words out every time. He never volunteered too much information, he said just enough and only what he was expected of him.
Saturdays and Sundays were his favorite, they were the only days of the week that allowed visitation. He’d missed home so much, his family came to visit as often as they could but Leslie was always there right on time, the first to arrive and the last to leave. He was on a natural high every time they’d visit. After visiting hours were over he would always thank God for the support his family were giving him. He didn’t know how he would get through this without them.
This Sunday was just like any other one until she’d shown up. At Nick’s request Leslie and Aaron took a walk around the grounds keeping a watchful eye. Neither of them had seen her before and were naturally weary of her. He didn’t know why he’d sent his sibling away or why he was even talking to her but once again he felt he was cornered and left with no option. Since he’d entered rehab he’d heard no word about Irene. Every time he’d ask about her no one would answer they’d just look at each other and exchange blank face. No one wanted to speak of her.
“How’ve you been?” She asked.
“Alright, I guess.”
“How’ve they been treating you here?”
“Celine, I don’t mean to be rude since you took the time to come all the way over here and all but can you tell why you’re here.”
“I just wanted to see how you were doing, wanted to know you’re okay.”
“Wow. I wish you’d worried about me that much when you left me.”
“Nick, I-I’m sorry about that. You should know that I never meant-”
“Forget it, it’s alright. I’m over it. Really I am.”
She couldn’t be sure but she felt that Nick’s words were less that accurate. “So…we’re okay? Friends?” Her face cringed while she waited for his response.
“Cel, what happened, happened, it’s over and done with, it’s okay, as for the friends…yeah… I don’t really see that happening. I’m sorry.”
Who had she been fooling, she knew it wasn’t going to be that easy to win Nick’s trust back much less friendship. The boy held grudges. He always had, that’s just who he is, take him or leave him. It was the little boys in him, the one that never grew up. Celine was lucky that he was even talking to her now. The tone obviously not as thick in ice as their last conversation but still it lay under his polite demeanor.
“Me too.” She looked in the direction where the two blondes stood, she knew they’d been watching from the distance and wondered if they even knew who she was. Judging by the looks she was getting she would have figured so, if it hadn’t been for the fact that Leslie would have most likely told her to fuck off. Nick had told her once about his overprotective little sister. Celine remembered thinking it was sweet but now she was feeling it was anything but sweet.
“Well, I guess I should go then.”
“Celine- wait. Before you go I just need to ask you something. How is she?”
Celine turned back to him with a puzzled look though she knew who he was speaking of. “Y-You don’t know?”
Nick shook his head, “No one will tell me anything.”
“Well there’s not much to tell, her condition hasn’t gotten any worse but it hasn’t gotten any better either.”
“Will you let me know if- if”
“There are any changes? Sure.”
Nick nodded and offered and weak but polite smile. He could help feeling like there was something she wasn’t telling him. Lying in his bed, long past visiting hours and way past bedtime, he questioned himself on and on until sleep had caught up with him. Why did he feel like something was off about Celine?
