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Death #68 - Butterfingers

“One week on the keto diet, and damn, do I feel good!” Nick Carter proclaimed, as he pulled into the gym parking lot. “You have no idea how refreshing it is to finally realize my dream of eliminating all processed sugar from my life. I feel reborn!”

Next to him in the passenger seat, AJ McLean rolled his eyes. He’d only been back in Las Vegas for a day, and already, Nick was driving him crazy talking about this new ketogenic diet he was doing.

"I had no idea that was even a dream of yours,” said AJ, as Nick parked the car. “Why didn’t you say something that day we were stuck at the airport a few weeks ago? I would’ve tried to stop you from slurping down all those Starbucks frappuccinos if I’d known they were standing in the way of you living out your dream.”

Sensing his sarcasm, Nick shot him an annoyed look. “Yeah, well, since when has it been your dream to be a country music star?” he retorted, turning off the engine.

AJ just snickered. “Since March,” he replied honestly. What did it matter? People accused him of being fickle with his interests, and maybe they were right, but Nick was just as bad, if not worse. All these fad diets and fitness routines…

Nick laughed and unbuckled his seatbelt. “See, there you go - people change. Change is good! I’m all for making positive changes. For example, instead of frappuccinos, I’ll be drinking bulletproof coffee from now on.”

AJ grabbed his water bottle from one of the cup holders between them. “You mean coffee with butter in it.”

“Exactly,” Nick said earnestly. “See, keto’s all about replacing carbs with healthy fats for fuel. Who needs sugar when you can have all the butter you want?”

“I’d rather have a Butterfinger,” muttered AJ.

“And cheese,” Nick added, ignoring him. “Cheese is fine, as long as it’s not processed. Even cream cheese is okay.”

Scoffing, AJ shook his head. “What good is being able to eat all the butter and cheese in the world when you can’t have any of the stuff you’d wanna put butter or cheese on? No bread, no crackers, no popcorn, no potatoes…”

“It’s not that bad, really,” Nick insisted. “I had a pound of bacon for breakfast this morning. Now if that’s living my best life, I don’t know what is.”

“You have a point there, my friend,” AJ admitted with a grin. “Just as long as you don’t have a massive coronary and drop dead from all that cholesterol clogging your arteries.”

“‘Baby, don’t go breaking my heart, breaking my heart…’” Nick sang, grinning back.

AJ shook his head. “Nah, it should be more like, ‘Baby, don’t go bacon my heart, bacon my heart…’”

“‘Cause it’s the only one I got!’” Nick chimed in without missing a beat, and they both chuckled.

Once the laughter had faded from AJ’s lips, he heaved a sigh and reached for the door handle. “Well c’mon, lardass, let’s get this over with.” He was already regretting letting Nick talk him into working out together. But the next round of shows on their residency started that week, and AJ wanted - no, needed - to be ready. He’d really let himself go during his time off with his family, and he had the “dad bod” to prove it. This wouldn’t matter so much if he wasn’t a forty-year-old popstar who still had to haul his fat ass over the back of a folding chair in front of an audience every night.

“See, now that’s the wrong attitude,” said Nick, as they got out of the car. “A workout shouldn’t be something you dread, but something you look forward to - something you enjoy!”

AJ groaned. “There’s only two kinds of workout I enjoy: the workout I get on stage during a show, and the workout I get with Rochelle in the bedroom. Every other kind of workout can suck it.”

“You just haven’t found the right workout then!” insisted Nick, practically skipping as they crossed the parking lot. “Have you ever tried boxing?”

“I don’t think you wanna give me boxing gloves right now, buddy,” AJ replied, lagging behind. “I may just punch you in the face.”

“You may try to punch me in the face, but I’ll just block it,” Nick shot back, grinning over his shoulder.

AJ shook his head. I almost miss Fat Nick, he thought with a sigh, as he grudgingly followed his friend into the fitness center. Fat Nick may have been a hot fucking mess, but at least he was fun.

***


“Alright, that’s enough cardio for now,” Nick announced, climbing off the elliptical.

“Thank god,” sighed AJ, as he did the same. His legs were burning so badly, he wasn’t sure he could even walk. “Are we done yet?”

Nick was drenched in sweat, but to AJ’s dismay, he shook his head. “I just wanna do some weight training before we go,” he said, taking a swig from his water bottle.

AJ groaned. “How do you even have any energy left for that?” he asked incredulously.

But before Nick could answer, the water bottle suddenly slid out of his hand and crashed to the floor, spilling water everywhere. “Shit!” he swore as he sank to his knees, trying to mop up the water with his towel.

“Smooth move there, Butterfingers,” chuckled AJ, wincing with pain as he squatted down to help. “How the hell did that happen?”

“My hands were sweaty,” said Nick with a shrug, wiping the floor. “That’s one thing I’ve noticed since starting keto - I sweat a lot more. My body must still be releasing toxins from all that processed sugar that had built up inside it.”

AJ wrinkled his nose. “Sounds more like the meat sweats. I mean, you do smell like rancid bacon grease right now.”

Nick laughed. “Gee, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” AJ straightened up slowly, his thigh muscles screaming in protest, then reached down to pull Nick to his feet. “Damn, your hand is sweaty!” he exclaimed, wiping his own hand off in disgust after he’d dropped Nick’s. “We’d better get you some more water before you dehydrate, dude.”

“Told you!” said Nick. AJ watched him walk to the nearest water fountain to refill his bottle. Nick normally sweat like a pig, but he was practically dripping with perspiration, as if his pores were oozing out all the melted butter he’d put in his coffee that morning - or maybe some of that was spilled water. It was impossible to tell the difference.

“You sure you don’t wanna call it a day?” AJ asked when Nick came back. “You look spent.”

Nick shook his head. “That’s just the sweat. I feel great! I have so much more energy than I did before I started doing keto. Seriously, dude, you should give it a shot!”

“So I can look and smell like you? Thanks, but no thanks, bro,” laughed AJ.

“Don’t knock it till you try it!” Nick replied, leading the way over to one of the weight benches. AJ wobbled after him on legs that were like Jell-O. “You gonna lift, too, or just stand there watching me?” Nick asked, as he loaded the barbell with weights.

“Dude, I can’t do weights after cardio,” said AJ, shaking his head. “I think I’m done for the day.”

Nick shrugged. “Suit yourself. You can spot me then.”

AJ looked skeptically at the heavy weights Nick had added to the bar. “You sure you can lift all that? ‘Cause I don’t think I could catch it if you can’t.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re scrawny,” snickered Nick, lying back on the bench. “I’ve done it before, plenty of times. Just stand behind me and watch.”

AJ had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach as he positioned himself behind the bench. He prayed that Nick knew what he was doing because he sure as hell did not. He had no business being Nick’s spot, but there was no telling Nick that.

In front of him, Nick arched his back and gripped the barbell with both hands, grunting as he lifted it off its rack. AJ watched, impressed, as he brought it slowly down to his chest and back up again. He’d had no idea Nick could bench press that much. “Wow, bro,” he said, as Nick straightened his arms. “I guess bacon does a body good.”

Nick gritted his teeth and smiled as he started to lower the barbell again. But suddenly, he lost his grip. The bar slipped from his sweaty hands and fell straight down onto his chest with a sickening thud. Nick let out a strangled gasp as all the air was squeezed out of his lungs. The sound was cut short as the bar bounced off his chest and rolled back across his throat, crushing it.

“Nick!” AJ cried, watching his friend’s eyes roll back into his head. AJ tried desperately to pick up the barbell, but it was too heavy for him. “I need some help over here!” he hollered, as blood gurgled from Nick’s mouth.

It only took a few seconds for a couple of big guys to come over and lift the bar from Nick’s neck, but by then, it was too late. Nick had already stopped breathing.

“Hold on, Nick… just hold on,” AJ begged, watching them try to resuscitate him as they waited for the ambulance. “Baby, don’t go!”

It was no use. No air could pass through Nick’s mangled trachea, and the trauma to his chest would prove fatal. He’d been broken, he’d been bruised, and now he was dead because of… who? AJ wasn’t sure whether to blame the bacon, the butter, or the barbell for breaking Nick’s heart, breaking Nick’s heart, but there was one thing he knew: that’s not what dieting’s supposed to do.

Life, AJ decided on that day, was too short to eliminate all processed sugar. If Nick had taught him anything, it was that. And so, on his way home from his friend’s funeral, he bought a Butterfinger bar and enjoyed every last bite. Keto Nick may have been silently judging him from somewhere above, but he was pretty sure Fat Nick - the Nick who was fun and free and full of processed sugar - would approve.


Chapter End Notes:
Damn, now I want a Butterfinger.