Late Regrets and Consequences

Back in the car, his addiction came back full-swing to hit him in the face. The air conditioner was on full blast to battle the humid weather of the day but Nick could still feel the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, a few droplets streaming down the side of his face from his hairline. He wiped his nose as he sniffled, before running a hand through his hair. Michael was busy with a phone call as he drove them both back home, his attention on the voice coming through his earpiece.

Nick carefully glanced towards his father through hooded eyes, his sight was blurry and he was beginning to see two Michaels in the place of one. His fingernails were painful against his palms and he could feel his skin breaking at some points but it was all he could to stifle the screams that threatened to pour from his mouth. They were already loud enough in his head. He was an idiot. He thought that if he ate some food, drank some water, talked to some people, he could find a way to not feel his withdrawal. But clearly, he was wrong. His fingers kept going to the pockets of his trousers, in search of some leftover, forgotten baggy with the content that he truly desired. Nick was grateful for the quick thinking that he had used when he had emptied his supply that very morning. If there was any way that Michael would ever trust him the way he trusted Madison, Nick had to prove himself smart and reliable. A person loaded on crack, drunk on liquor was not the one Michael wanted. Nick had to do this. He had to get through the difficulty, the discomfort, the thirst of it all. He needed to be the son Michael wanted, even if it made him want to claw out his skin.

"It was a nice afternoon," Michael said, and Nick quickly unclenched his right hand, in fear of his father noticing.

"Yeah, it was great," he said, his voice coming out strained as he shifted in his seat.

Michael didn't notice the evident pain on his son's face as he continued, "I'm glad you came with me today, son."

He forgot his inner turmoil for a split second and felt his lips twitch up into a smile but whatever response he was about to give died in his throat as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He muttered a reply to his father and took out the device and froze in his seat. There was a text from Darryl on his screen but it felt like the man was right in front of Nick at that moment, with his threatening eyes that said he could easily hurt him but chose not to.

𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙥𝙖𝙮𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙜𝙨.

Nick gulped at the vague threat beneath the seemingly friendly nature of the text message. Darryl was not a patient person, and he had shown him on several occasions what happened when he was made to wait. Nick foraged through his head to think of a perfect response to buy himself some more time. He couldn't just ask Michael to drive him to the house; Michael, who was still talking.

"You were really hitting it off with Madison today."

His sentence made Nick pause, thoughts of giving a response to Darryl put on hold. His father continued; his tone eager.

"The two of you seemed to balance each other naturally."

Nick remained quiet even when his father turned his head towards him, expecting a response. What was he even supposed to say to that? What did Michael mean? And did Nick even wanna know what his father meant by his choice of words.

At his son's silence, he pushed further, "What do you think about her?"

Being put on the spot, Nick let out an awkward cough, "I-uh... I think she's great, really."

Michael was unsatisfied with his response so he pressed on, "That's it? You two looked friendly with each other."

At that, Nick averted his eyes from his father's searching gaze, "Yeah, we've talked a bit. She's cool." His eyes widened as he saw that Darryl had sent a few other messages, each one making Nick more nervous than the last.

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚.

𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙉𝙞𝙘𝙠. 𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩.

𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙤𝙧 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙞𝙜 𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨.

Nick reached a shaky hand up to the strands of hair that had fallen onto his forehead and he smoothed them back. Putting those fingers to the screen, he typed out a response which he hoped wouldn't make the man angry.

𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙪𝙥. 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩.

"I suggest you get acquainted with her," Michael said, making Nick furrow his brow.

They had reached the house by now and Michael was pulling into the driveway. As he parked the car and reached to step out, he continued, "She's an intelligent girl, I think she'd be really good for you."

Nick thought of responding before his phone buzzed again and he just made a sound of agreement before checking the new text.

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙜𝙨.

As he stepped out of the car, Nick rubbed a hand over his face and let out a breath of relief. The crisis was averted, for now. He'd go to Darryl after dinner when everyone would be asleep. When he'd started to work for the ill-tempered man, it wouldn't be an easy job. But Nick was desperate and under great pressure from Michael due to his taunts and mocking. It wouldn't be easy or quick to make the large sum that Nick had lost but he knew that he had to start somewhere and this was the fastest way he could think of to make that much money on the island.

He walked into the house and went straight up to his room. Shutting the door behind him, he sat on the bed with his hand in his hands, his nails scratching his scalp as deep breaths left his mouth. A thought occurred to him, an inner voice that seemed to resemble his fathers'.

Madison would've found a better way.

Nick tightly shut his eyes, shaking his head to get rid of the voice that he knew was speaking the truth. Madison would have found a better way. If it was her in this situation, she would've already made the money back. She wouldn't have gone to a jerk like Darryl, never have traded her conscience in exchange for dollar bills, she would've made a better choice.

But if it was Madison, she never would've been in a situation like this in the first place. It all came down to his uselessness, his stupidity, and his irresponsibility that had brought him to this state. He had no one to blame but himself. If he could take it back, take it all back from his reckless decision to go high before he went to the docks, to stay in college like a dutiful son, he would be a better person and maybe someone that Michael would have felt pride in calling his son.

Someone that the kind, the person to never judge anyone, perfect Golden Girl wouldn't look at him with a kind of hatred that he had never seen before. Maybe he wouldn't be hated by Madison Pierce, the girl who loves all.