Remember Me This Way

Chapter Two

When Nick awoke the next morning, confusion was his new friend.

He took in his surroundings. Nothing looked familiar. The room was not his own. Neither was the bed. In fact they had the standardized look of a Motel 6. The girl sleeping next to him in the nude was a nice surprise, causing him to jerk back a bit. His mind felt muddled and drowsy and he racked his brain to remember just exactly happened at the club last night. Most of it was a complete blur. He rubbed his forehead as he sat up, trying to decipher what he did.

He'd gotten mad at Brian and went to the clubs to blow off stream.

There'd been drinks, and lots of them.

He groaned as his head throbbed. But the groan wasn't because of the pain, rather because of the realization of what last night was. It had been a binging night, something he'd sworn to himself that he wouldn't ever do again. A blurry haze of memories filtered through his mind, lots and lots of drinks. The girl next to him had been....a fan. Not a groupie, but a fan he'd drunkenly attempted to seduce, and succeeded from the looks of it. After that, everything was blank. He didn't remember leaving the club, coming into a hotel, nothing.

'Well shit...what the hell was I thinking?'

But he knew what he'd been thinking. He'd been angry. Rational or not, it didn't matter. When Nick got angry, he got reckless. He always found himself on a mission to prove something. And when Nick Carter got on those self made missions, disaster or random chaos usually followed. In all actuality waking up next to a random girl he couldn't remember sleeping with, was mild compared to what could've been the result. Lately, with his drinking, he'd been blacking out events more, not that he would ever admit that to Brian. He stretched a bit as he climbed out of bed, immediately pulling on the jeans haphazardly thrown on the floor the night before. His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and still shirtless he headed into the restroom as he answered quietly.

"Hello?"

"Nick where are you?" The accent that had faded over the years was in full force, angry and loud, making Nick cringe as head throbbed intensely once more.

He blinked. "Howie? I just woke up, what's the matter?"

"You're an hour late!"

Nick's eyes scrambled around for some sign of the current time. They settled upon a cheap looking wall clock within the bathroom and he felt them widen. Eight in the morning. Howie was right. "Shit, D, I'm sorry. I-"

"It's alright Nick, just get here ASAP okay?"

He nodded, for a moment forgetting that that the Puerto Rican man couldn't see him. "No problem. Be there soon." He hung up the phone and gave himself a good look in the mirror again. Nick looked horrible and he knew it. There were bags under his eyes from what he knew to be a lack of real sleep; his hair was every which way. Turning on the sink, he put his hands in, using the water to slick back his hair a bit, splashing his face as well in an effort to wake up.

When he found himself looking less like a zombie and more like a member of the living, Nick walked back into the main room. There the girl still slept, a mess of raven black hair strewn around the pillow, her full lips forming a small smile. She was sweet looking, and although Nick couldn't remember what she'd been like, he felt guilty for what he was about to pull.

Searching around for his shirt, he pocketed his watch from the nightstand beside the bed and fought to keep himself as quiet as possible. Maybe if she woke up, she'd think it was a dream? The thought was unlikely yet it managed to comfort his own misgivings about his actions. Finally he spotted his shirt, half hidden under the bed, along with his leather jacket which had been thrown across a tiny shabby looking blue couch at the end of the room. Checking the pocket, he smiled in relief at the slight jingle of his car keys. Carefully, he crept out the door and down the hall, throwing on a pair of shades in hopes no one would recognize him.