INTRO

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Nick:







I ran all over town trying to find a cab that would take me into Chelsea. I was growing really impatient and just decided to walk. It wasn’t too cold out tonight. It was actually the nicest night all week.







This was also a very important night; I only wanted the best of the best. I finally found the lovely liquor store, if at all possible, that I recognized from the New York magazine I flipped through every now and then. It was supposedly a celeb hot spot. I proudly walked in with my celebrity status high in the air. I bought more than enough alcohol and snacks to satisfy fifty people, even though I knew not nearly that many people would attend on such short notice.







“Mr. Carmine, can I help you to your car? These bags are awfully heavy,” the polite, yet mysterious worker offered. He knew who I was, which meant he must have known I was underage. That’s what is so fabulous about being a celebrity. You can get away with jus about anything because no one asks questions.







“No car tonight. But can I ask you to call me a cab please? The walk here was easy but I don’t know how far I can walk with all these bags.” We shared a laugh. The worker turned his back to call me a cab. As I waited, Jack Parker, a rival actor, walked in. Rather than being uncomfortable around him, I decided to wait outside.







As I walked out of the store, I heard some chick screaming my name from down the road. “Nick! Nick Carmine? Oh mi goooohhh, I knew it was him, didn’t I tell you we’d see some celebrities in New York?” the girl shrieked in her heavy southern accent to her just as ecstatic friend. Instantly everyone’s face turned toward me. Celebrities walked the streets of Manhattan all the time, but to see a celebrity in Chelsea was apparently a big deal; at least to these tourists it was. I politely posed for tons of pictures and signed every random thing they could throw at me.







Once the crowd died down, I realized the cab still wasn’t there yet. I walked back inside the store. The worker who offered to call wasn’t there anymore, so I asked the new guy to call me a cab again. Once I was definitely satisfied that the cab was called for real this time, once again, I went outside to wait. I didn’t get very far before I was yet again ambushed.







However, this ambush wasn’t one consisting of creepy over obsessive fans, it was of big, overpowering men with baseball bats and shovels and other painful objects I couldn’t recognize under the sudden circumstance.







I was hit several times in my back, head, arms, everywhere. The bags of alcohol fell to the ground, as well as my cell phone: the only hope I had of getting out of this mess alive.







“You fucking faggot,” they yelled at me. They spit in my face. They continued to smash me with the shovel and everything else. “Burn in hell!” I was so scared. I knew they would kill me.







But I wasn’t scared for myself. I wasn’t scared of dying. I was scared for Trent. I gave him such a hard time about coming out on TV.







I tried to think back to the last time I hugged him, kissed him, and told him I loved him. I tried imagining what would happen with Trent and Lunny and the apartment. Would they still live together? Even though I was gone?







My body became numb. The blood poured into my ears, eyes, mouth, everywhere. I tried lifting my arms to wipe it away, but I couldn’t lift my arm; it was broken. I didn’t bother to fight back.







I heard more mumbling as the gang yelled louder and louder, but they must have known I couldn’t hear a thing; my ear was barely hanging onto my head. I saw myself; like an out of body experience; except I don’t know if that would be the right way to describe it.







I saw everything I didn’t accomplish in my life. I thought you were supposed to see your life, like, your past life, flash before your eyes seconds before death; but instead I saw everything I didn’t do. I wanted to help people. I had so much money and so many plans set up to start all these charities and fundraisers all stashed away in my closet and now all those innocent kids and people will not get the help they deserve.







I tried holding on as long as I could. I knew I was losing a lot of blood, but the police had to be on their way soon, right? I felt one last smash to my head and I knew my skull had shattered. How did I remain conscious throughout all of this? All my senses were suddenly gone. I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. I closed them and thought of Trent; the only person who could keep me going. I knew Trent would be devastated, but he was much stronger than me. The thought of Trent gave me strength, hope, but as soon as the police came, the shoveled man shot me straight in the forehead.







***



Jimmy:



The only purpose I had in life was to protect my little brother and sister. I already failed at protecting Lunny when our sad excuse for a “father” hurt her. And now, there was nothing to do to protect my little brother: he was gone.







“Lunny?” I whispered. My tears flooded onto my cell phone. I was surprised it didn’t break from water damage.







“Jimmy? What’s up? Did you see the show? Are you coming over for our party?” Lunny asked. She sounded too upbeat and happy it should have been illegal. How can she be so happy when such a horrible thing just happened to Nick?







“There’s not going to be a party,” I told her. I couldn’t come out and say it. I couldn’t hurt her; I wouldn’t be the one to lie this on her. I couldn’t do it. I don’t care if that makes me a coward; I can not hurt my sister.







“Why? What do you mean? Are you okay?” Of course she would sense the pain in my voice; the only person who knew me as well as she does was now gone.







“I’m at the hospital.”







“What? What happened? What’s going on? Jimmy’s in the hospital,” she informed whoever was with her; most likely Ayden and Trent.







“I’m fine. It’s Nick,” I barely got out. It hurt to say his name. My throat felt like it was closing. I tried holding back the tears, but listening to her without even knowing what was going on, it made me break down.







“What happened to Nick?” I could hear the horror in her voice. I could only imagine the look on her face, on Trent’s.







“He was mugged. He was beaten. We’re at the hospital. Please, can you come down here now? I need you,” I begged.







I must have looked so funny sitting in the little waiting room chairs, all alone. I had so many piercings, some even Lunny didn’t know about. My body was covered in tattoos and I wear a lot of black clothes and eyeliner to appear as hard-core as my music, even though I’m really not. The record label thought that’d be best for the band. The nurses walked back and fourth, constantly looking in through the doorway with sympathetic looks. One of the younger nurses even offered me her make up remover; apparently eyeliner runs when you cry. Who knew?







“Is he okay? IS HE OKAY?! Why won’t you answer me?” Lunny screamed to me in the phone. I could hear the tears rolling down her face. I couldn’t tell her.







“We don’t know yet. You need to come, please come soon,” I lied to her as I hung up the phone quickly.