Capitulito XIII

Nick was always more childlike than anyone I had ever been with. The simplest things delighted him, as well as frustrated him to the point of unforgiveness.

Nick also threw more fits than anyone I had ever been with.

And boy, could Nick throw a fit.

Not that I didn’t love him, or enjoy being with him every chance I got, because of course I did. Nick was one of the funnest people to be with. He could be serious and sweet and romantic and perfectly loving.

But he could throw a mean and nasty fit.

At certain points it reminded me of when I took care of my four year old nephew, with the one exception that Nick usually refrained from using the word “Poo-poo head.”

Usually.

This was something you already knew.

Just looking at him, you could almost tell. He was a person who wore his emotions on his face. When he was happy he looked happy, when he was pissed he looked pissed.

Looking at tabloids from the past, you knew he wasn’t always the most rational person in the world.

When he left his family on Christmas Day and moved in with his girlfriend.

When he got drunk after New Years and got in a very public fight with some girl who had called him washed up, and then tried to sleep with him.

Those are prime examples

But Nick also got mad in private.

His constant fights with his mother and manager and band mates and record label and even with the poor kid who was just trying to make a living calling houses trying to sell some phone plan seemed almost normal to me after being with him for six months.

He’d fight with the homeboys. Those were the most painful fights to witness, even more than when he fought with me.

The homeboys were his heart and soul. His real escape. He’d known them forever and they didn’t give a shit about who he was or what he did. As long as there was a good game on TV and a pizza on the table everything was perfect.

But when anyone brought up his career that’d be the end of it.

Nick and Casey could trade insults with the best.

“You just live off your famous friends, you fuck.”

“At least I can get laid without assuring the girl I’m not gay.”

Nick would turn his head, and look at me. I could tell he was guilty for getting in this fight with me in the room.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“I was leaving anyway.”

In a few days or weeks it would be forgotton. And Barry Bonds would have broken another record. He had to talk to Casey. It was time to celebrate.

But in the end, Nick knew he couldn’t ever really escape. It was too late to get out now.