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...Three Years Ago... When Nick was 32...


When you're in a coma for six months, the bills add up fast.

My health insurance hit it's maximum, somewhere around the fourth month. I didn't think that was physically fucking possible, but apparently all things are. The bills were thick wads of things, describing operations and treatments and medications and lab works and x-rays that I had no idea I'd ever had.

My bank account was slipping through my fingers.

No new checks came in, I wasn't singing anymore. I wasn't able to make a record or pop a tour date to get extra cash.

The fact was, I wasn't the best off financially of the four of us to begin with because I'd spent a lot of money over the years drinking and snorting and smoking.

But now...

I'd sold my couch and two mahogany hutches. I'd sold my TV and dining room table set. I'd sold out the home studio pieces.

I still wasn't gonna make the mortgage on February 10th.

On my birthday, Brian handed me an envelope. "Here," he said, tucking it into my jacket pocket as I was leaving the restaurant he and AJ had taken me to. "Leighanne and I wanted to help," he said.

I took the envelope out. He cringed. He'd obviously wanted me to leave before I looked. Inside was a check made out for one hundred thousand dollars.

I shoved it back into his hand.

"No," I said firmly, "I am not your charity case."

"Nick," he whispered, leaning close. "We both know you need help, let us help you. You can pay us back in the future when you can."

I shook my head. "No, Brian," I said.

Brian sighed and tucked the envelope back into his own pocket. "Promise me, then," he said, "That you'll come to me if you can't make the ends meet, okay? Promise."

I thought of my 74 listings on Craigs List. My stereo was on there now, and the La-Z-Boy lounge chair, among other assorted things. One of the cars, a desk, my fish tank, my drum kit...

"I'll tell you," I lied.

"Before you do stupid things?" Brian asked.

I nodded.

"Okay." Brian had sighed, "Nick, I'm sorry. I don't want you to think I think you're a 'charity case' - it's not like that. I just want to know you're okay. I worry about you all of the time so much." He smiled sadly, "You're my best friend and I love ya man."

I ruined everything for us both, I thought bitterly, How can you love me?

It was from that point forward that I began circling the drain before my final descent into the mire.