Journals are a good place to hold secrets.
Be just my luck for a fan to steal it.
Can have that. Can’t have no body reading this.
At least not yet. Not till I’m ready.
Nothing lasts forever. Don’t believe me just blow your breath on a window during a cold Winters day and watch it slowly fade away. I remember being younger when we lived up North. I would stand in front of the window and do that all day. Quickly as fast as I could I would try to draw images before the shape disappeared. This way I thought I could lay down my mark, to establish Nick Carter.
Awhile back after Brian went off he showed me his journal that he kept during that time. Of course some of the entries he filled in later like the one where the hotel room started to catch on fire. I guess he showed it to me so that I wouldn’t make the same mistakes or get caught in the same desolate state of mind that he was lost in. I’ve tried. Rok, you hear that? But he really got me to thinking though. Journals are a good place to put down all of your thoughts before you want anyone to hear them. These are my thoughts. I'm not too good at this writing shit so you gotta bear with me. And don’t expect no Bible verses or even good grammar. I ain’t that good. I’m just me, ya know? Nick Carter.
Well, here goes..
Nick's Tale: Secrets
August 17, 2002
September 3, 2002
September 28, 2002
October 29, 2002
October 31, 2002
November 22, 2003
November 23, 2002
December 5, 2002
December 31, 2002
__________
August 17, 2002
I never knew her name. Not her real complete name anyway. She told me Joy and that’s what I believed. Man, was I a fool. Later I found out Joy was her name although she brought many people pain. Many others, not just me. I’d hoped, wished, even prayed that I was the only one. I wasn’t. Even now I can close my eyes and go back to that first meeting. Back to that time when I believed.
“Nick Carter.” She leaned over me.
“Yeah?”
“I bet you think you’re hot shit, don’t you?” She could say things like that. And I did then, back before my album flopped.
I nodded in response. At least I think I did. After so many drinks it’s hard to remember these things.
“Joy.” She said.
“Wha?” I squinted at her.
She leaned over and whispered in my ear a few choice words about pain that was sure to bring joy when done by her. Joy.
I remember sighing from just the sound of it. She leaned back into her side of the booth and laughed. Even then, she had me where she wanted me. And I knew it too.
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__________
I know I've been pretty slack on this writing thing. My bad. I've been just a little preoccupied.
She was sexy as hell. Those types of women who could get any man she wanted. And she had one. We’ll call him Nick. She had me.
The only problem was that women like that hot, sexy beauties didn’t grocery shopping. She did for me.
“Sweetie, I want some ice cream.” She opened and closed the fridge. “You don’t have any. In fact, there’s a lot of food you don’t have. Baby, you have to got to stop eating out so much. McDonald's grease is not good for your artries.”
“Ice cream? I can’t. I’ll get fat.”
“Oh, bah. Is that the shit they’re telling you? Don’t listen to those people. You're fine the way you are. I love the way you look.”
“That’s all?”
“That's all of what?” She was momentarily confused. Of course she had no idea what I was talking about. And I wouldn’t tell. I thought I would hear, ‘I love you.’ Three little words, plain and simple. Who was I fooling?
“Come on.” She pulled my hand. “I’ll drive the truck. We’ll do some shopping. You really need more groceries in here. If you want we'll get some health food stuff too.”
The truck. My truck. She made it sound as though this was our house and we owned one car and one truck, hers and mine.
Already then I should had known. If I had maybe I would have been able to save myself. We pretended that we were separate and distanced from each other, that we weren’t slowing been pulled together like two magnets unable to detach.
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__________
She came and went in my life as she pleased. On a breeze she drifted. Like a rose petal. Soft and sensual. With her hazel eyes, and her tanned skin, and red lips with her little pink tongue. I wanted her from the start. And she wanted me. I knew that. She didn’t even have to tell me. That’s why she approached me. We sparked, sizzled, we were on fire. We had sex that same night. Not just any sex, mind-blowing, off the chart sex. Better sex than I had with that Spanish chick over in Europe. I think she was Spanish. She didn't speak English. Anyway, that’s why she kept coming back. Joy. She said that we connected in a way she hadn’t felt with anyone else. I didn’t want to believe it at first. I thought that was just her way of convincing herself that our relationship was okay. The more time we spent together, the more she kept coming over to the house, the more we kept coming, going over the edge together, I started to see. Maybe she was right. There was a connection.
I told myself there wasn’t. That was how I justified our relationship. I didn’t want her to get under my skin. I didn’t want to feel with her around. Some things are undeniable. I felt so many emotions like pain, happiness, sorrow, and yes, joy.
It stopped being just about the sex. We would cuddle and talk all day. We would fix meals together in the kitchen butt naked and eat it off each other later. She got me into other foods, good foods that I didn't want to try before 'cause I was scared. She made me eat something other than burgers and pizzas. She said she was worried about my cholesterol and blood pressure levels. She cared that much to worry.
I told myself it wasn’t love. There was no way I could be falling. Because if I was I knew it would hurt. Hurt much more than anything. Wanna know how I knew? Because I already loved her more than anything.
Already I was falling fast like a ton of bricks. At the moment I didn't care. I was enjoying my slow descent before I finally hit the ground.
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__________
“Nick?”
“Joy? Is that you? Baby, what’s wrong?” I didn’t like the sound of her voice. Something worried me.
“Can we meet at your house? Please.”
“Okay, sweetie. It’s okay. I’m on my way. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“How fast can you get here?”
“Five minutes. Joy, tell me what happened.”
“Please, Nick I need you.”
That was the last thing I heard before the click. I should have pushed further. I didn’t
When I walked out of that meeting and they told me to stay, I should have listened. I didn’t.
I didn’t care about anything or anyone anymore. No one but her. She needed me and that was all that mattered.
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__________
When I woke the next morning she was gone. It was okay. I was used to it. After the many times I did this to so many girls on tour I know most of them are glad for the taste I was getting.
I said that it was mutual. I said she wanted to be around me as much as I wanted to be around her. That’s what I told everyone, the guys, my mom, my family, myself. Of course Jane had something to say about that. I was well aware they all had never met her. But even I had no intention of sharing her. Why would I share her? So that she could corrupt them? She was my dark secret, my forbidden passion. They knew of her and that was enough.
I recently discovered though sharing was her thing. It was okay. I said. After I did this to so many girls, it was okay. I wanted to believe that. We connected, we’d had sparks. It’s okay. That was the anthem I beat into my head like a drum. It’s okay, it’s okay, it was okay.
It was not okay.
It really hurt.
Guess what I am for Halloween? Nick Carter, playboy pop star. The guy who didn't get his heart ripped through a blender and put back into his chest.
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__________
If looks could kill. If only. She stood there looking gorgeous and beautiful and all those things that she truly was. And I wanted to die. I almost cried.
Just the night before, not quite 24 hours, she spent the night in my bed, the entire night. When I woke she was there in my arms and that was a glorious feelings. I should have known something was wrong when she quickly rushed off. I should have known. This time I pushed, asked, begged for some sort of knowledge into her life. Can’t you just picture me, Nick Carter, world-famous pop star on my knees in front of this woman who held my life in her hands, pleading for information?
She refused to offer any. Now I knew why.
She had to hurry home to her husband. Her husband. Her God dammed husband. She saw me and gasped. No one expected a pop star at a political event for the new governor of Florida. I didn’t expect her. I didn’t expect the look in her eyes either. She knew she’d been caught but she also knew this was the end. There was no need to say it. She glanced at him as though he mattered. No, I wouldn’t tell. She could continue to hang on his arm as the prize trophy wife. I wouldn’t dream of ending that for her. It was obviously what she wanted.
But I did dream. I dreamt of her every night. For weeks I dreamed of her. Until finally one night the phone rang and it was her. I dreamed of her so much I thought that perhaps this was a dream still.
“Nick Carter.”
I didn’t answer. I refused to play along.
“I love you.”
And then there was a click. A loud resounding click. That was the end.
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__________
Click. I winced. Another click. How many times would I have to turn the damned thing before I’d stop hearing clicks?
I spin the barrel again and held the gun to my head. My hands were less steady this time. This one was it, I was sure. After so many clicks this had to be the one. I took a deep sigh.
Looking back I have to say this was not my finest… anything. It lasted more than an hour, more than the fifth of tequila clutched in my hand.
At the time, I just wished it would end.
Just one more time. I pulled the trigger.
Click.
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__________
“I wish I’d never met you. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you. It started out as a trick. I wanted to teach you a lesson. I wanted you to see there was more to life than Nick Carter.”
I sat there and watched her cry pretending to be stronger than I really was.
“You have a husband. For Christ’s sake, Joy. You’re married!” It was the only thing I could yell at her.
“I wish I wasn’t.”
“Get a divorce.” I muttered.
She looked at me like she’d never considered the idea. “I can’t. He’d kill me.”
I took her seriously. I thought back to the day she called me scared and desperate. “Does he hit you? Has he hit you before?”
“Nick, I don’t want to talk about. I didn’t come here to talk. I came to drink.” Just that quickly her tears dried up as she ordered drinks for us.
We both came to drink. Back to the beginning. Back to where she first said my name. We came back to this spot hoping to find some peace and alcohol.
We did talk. Later that night. We talked like things had never changed, like we’d never talked before. We talked like it was our last time together.
Because it was.
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__________
Happy fucking New Year!
I have some advice for the new year. Here, I'll give it to you: nothing last forever. Believe that.
Not even love. Especially love.
What is love anyway? It’s a false mixture of emotions and feelings. Just a chemical imbalance in the brain. The irrational emotional side takes over. This, my friends, is bad. Don’t let this happen to you. It causes you to think, actually hope, that love might last. Bullshit.
You might say that I’m cynical. Not true. I believe in love. Now I just know it won’t last. For everyone in love out there enjoy it while it does last. That won’t be long. It’s out there for everyone, love I mean. I found mine. I had my Joy. She was my secret passion, my secret love and finally my secret heartbreak. No one knows that she even existed except me and my heart but, yes there was love. We had the best type of love. We had it all. The joy and the pain. The sunshine and the rain. The lust and passion, the heartache and betrayal. The secrets, oh baby, can’t forget those. We had it all. But the truth. We tried so hard to convince ourselves that it was more or less but never what it was. There was no truth in our relationship.
But truth is love. Who said that? I can’t remember now. Someone famous, I’m sure.
In the end we didn’t even have the truth. So what does that leave us with? I’m not sure.
I had my Joy.