Chapter 2:

Unsettled Nick

Howie was hurriedly taken to the University Hospital of Pittsburgh via helicopter and was prompt for emergency surgery in the Emergency Room. The doctors worked quickly to keep him alive; putting in I.V.’s into his arm, taking blood samples, placing him under a oxygen mask that partially covered his whole mouth and nose, and then after all of the preparation, the doctors carefully rolled him over onto his side to examine the stab wounds while they slowed down the bleeding. Then the repaired the wounds, only to stop the bleeding so that they could bring him into another room for a CAT-scan to make sure there were or weren’t any internal bleeding, and if there was internal bleeding, they’ll take him back into the operation room to fix it. 

While the doctors worked on Howie, AJ was pacing tensely around the empty waiting room, wondering were Brian and Kevin was at, although knowing that the traffic was hectic, that was why they had to airlift Howie to the hospital because he was at the brink of dying. 

AJ sighed in frustration, cursing quietly to himself about everything that happened. He went over to the large window and gazed out into the city, staring at the other tall buildings that are all made of glass or stone, and then looked down to the people below, watching them as they walked by, hurrying to get to where ever they were going. He glanced over at his wristwatch and sighed again. 

8:45p.m 

“Come on, guys…” He rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair and turned away from the window for a moment to see if anyone would come in, seeing no one, he returned his gaze to the outside, pressing his hand against the edge of the wall to support himself as he leans over to get a better view, almost pressing his face against the clean, glass window. As he stood there in questioning silence, he thought about Nick and what made him to stab Howie. Nicky, why did you do that? What happened to you buddy? Are you not telling us anything? I know we weren’t hanging around together lately…all of us haven’t. He lowered himself to the plastic chair next to him carelessly, thinking about Nick. AJ wondered if Nick was taking any drugs. LSD…Prozac…whatever, but it had to be something to cause that sudden burst of rage.

Meanwhile, at the Pittsburgh police station, Nick was sitting on a chair in front of a table in the interviewing room alone. He stared soullessly at the handcuffs around his wrists, unconscious of the atmosphere around him. Above him was a window, covered by a blind that was partially closed, letting in a small amount of light from the streetlight. He slowly gazed up to the viewing glass and wondered who was watching him from the other side as the sudden feeling of paranoia ran throughout his body. He glared at his reflection that was staring back of him, filled with hate, betrayal, and fire. Why did he feel like that? Nick didn’t know why though, he felt so lost and filled with anguish. Perhaps he should tell someone what he has been doing while everyone was off tour; tell someone that he was being treated by a doctor to help him do better that would’ve made him happier than what he already was. But he couldn’t trust anyone because if he told the truth to a friend, then they would put him away in some hospital…forever. 

What did you put into me, Doctor Winston? Nick thought and quickly shot his head up and stared at the officer who just opened the door. Nick stood quiet as the officer slowly approached him, holding a file in his hand. 

“Mr. Nickolas Gene Carter,” The officer spoke, opening up the file and took out a small envelope and threw it on the table in front of Nick with a quiet thud. “You’re wallet is in there, put your necklace, watch, and other belongings of yours inside the envelope for me while I ask you a few more questions.” He grabbed the small steel chain of the handcuffs as he takes out a set of keys, and released him from the restraints. 

Nick stared at him for a moment. “What about my ankles?” He asked. 

The officer shook his head. “Why? You aren’t going anywhere, so sit there and relax.” He then took a seat across from the young man, reaching under the table and pulled up a large paper bag that was folded down from the top. 

While Nick took off his jewelry, he gazed questionably at the bag. “Wh - What’s in the bag?” He asked him curiously. 

“Oh, things from the crime scene and from the dressing room from the Mellon Arena,” he answers. The officer moved the bag upside down and dropped all the objects onto the table; the bloodstained knife was in a large plastic bag that said: EVIDENCE in big bold - faced letters that were colored in red ink. The others were; two bottles of pills, but one was a prescription bottle with Nick’s name on it and the other was a plain white bottle with nothing to explain what it was, and a razor that had specks of bloodstains on it. 

Nick leans over the table, folding his arms in front of him as he rested them on the tabletop. He stared at the officer and waited for his questions, already a pro at this. 

“Okay, Mr. Carter,” he said calmly. “Maybe I should introduce myself before we get started in this interview. I’m Lieutenant DJ Sholtz, and as you already know, you’re in my custody until further notice. Any questions?” He asked. 

“No,” Nick murmured. 

Lieutenant Sholtz nodded and glanced down at the dagger that Nick used to stab Howie several times in the back and then looked up again at Nick. 

“You understand that you may go to prison for a long, long time if your buddy does die, don’t you?” 

Nick nodded slowly. “Yeah,” 

“How did it feel?” Sholtz asked, intrigued. “Tell me all the detail of what exactly happened this evening.” 

“What?” Nick wondered why that the lieutenant wanted to know the gory details, but he had a problem. 

“But I can’t remember anything, all I saw was just red.” 

“Maybe from all the blood splashing all over you?” Sholtz mentioned. “You were practically covered with it before you changed into that.” 

Nick glanced down at the orange prison uniform. “Oh, so I was…but honestly, I don’t remember anything at all.” He then adds, “All I remember is my friend’s horrified look when he dropped to the floor, then the rest of the guys looked at me as if they have seen a ghost, and the thousands of fans were staring at me like I was some kind of monster…” Nick trailed off, questioning himself if he was. 

DJ smirked and then replied, "You know what, Mr. Carter? You're right about that, you are a monster, a little fuck up who never messed up in his life, except for once - But that was just a small charge and because you're some big huge pop star, they let you go after you fucking whined to them." 

Nick stared at him, a bit surprised that he knew who he was and surprised as his sudden change in mood. 

"That's right you little cunt," DJ growled, "I damn well know who you are. You little fucker made my twelve year old daughter cry her lungs out when she saw you stab your friend. A bit shock to find out about that?" 

Nick didn't move or say anything. 

"My twelve year old daughter fucking cried because she say one of her favorite singers almost kill someone, and so did the rest of the thousands of young and old fans." DJ stood up quickly and grabbed Nick by the collar of the orange jumpsuit and roughly pulled him to his feet. "Just be glad that I don't kill you right now - Just thank God that there are more people in here to stop me." He punched Nick in the face, smacking him in the cheekbone, sending him falling onto the floor. "Hey make your day and rape some little girl while your at it, and then I'll take my liberty to kill you." 

Nick pressed his hand against the painful bruise that was already beginning to form and rolled over, staring up at him. 

"But don't worry, you motherfucker, I'll make sure that your ass is in prison for a long time, just don't drop the soap and bend over." DJ laughed and walked out, glaring at a younger police officer who was about to run in there. 

"Not my fault that I can't remember a thing," Nick muttered. "It's not my fault that I can't...control it," He watched as DJ glared back at him as he turns around. 

"Well, Nick," DJ said, a bit calmer this time, "It's not my fault that you can't tell me anything." 

 "I can't because - " Nick thought about it as DJ walked away and then he gazed down to the floor as he sat up. " - I'm unsettled and…I don't know why but I think I liked it?"