Big Time Pain

Chapter 7

The entire ride home, Carlos sits quietly in the back seat beside James.  Carlos props his head up against the window, appearing to watch the world go by when, in all reality, his mind is miles away.  He wishes James would stop staring at him, though, as it makes him feel like James expects him to crumble to pieces in an emotional mess.  Carlos is stronger than that and is out to prove it to everyone.

“Anyone up for some pizza?  Tater tots?  Corndogs?” Kendall asks from up front, glancing back at Carlos.  Carlos knows, however, Kendall is just saying this and offering up his favorite foods to get him to say something, or at the very least, look at any of them.  But Carlos is way to angry and sad to take one look at any of them, despite the antics they try.

Logan glimpses back at Carlos in the back seat, wanting so badly to say something.  He’s known Carlos longer than any of them, but he still doesn’t know what to do to make him feel any better.  He hasn’t been this down ever, not even when Sally Sue turned him down for the 5th grade dance.  And believe me, he adored and drooled over that girl.

“Ok, well, I guess we’ll have to head over to Rocque Records and record some new stuff.  That is if Gustavo doesn’t kill us first…” Kendall trails off, swiveling back around in his seat to face the road. 

The rest of the trip remains silent, what with Logan driving, Kendall fidgeting in his seat, and James staring a hole into the side of Carlos’ head.

When the car stops at Rocque Records, Kendall, Logan, and James all fly out as if they can no longer stand the non-company of the lump formerly known as Carlos.  The lump, however, slowly gets out as if it’s taking all he has to not just sit there for the rest of his life.

Slumping in the door with his head as low as it can get, he shuffles straight into Logan who, for some odd, unknown reason, has stopped immediately.  Looking up, Carlos sees a horrid sight that can and is considered worse than his group barging in at the worst time. 

“WHERE WERE YOU FOUR YESTERDAY?!?!?!  I WAITED UNTIL 2:00!!!!  WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!?!  WAS IT MORE IMPORTANT THAN BEING HERE AND DOING YOUR JOBS?  APPARENTLY IT IS IN YOUR EYES!! SO GET OVER HERE, INTO THE BOOTH, AND SING YOUR HEARTS OUT BECAUSE YOU AREN’T GETTING ANY BREAKS UNTIL WE ARE DONE TODAY AT 5:00 SHARP!”

All the boys sigh heavily and shuffle into the sound booth, mimicking the lump of Carlos. 

For the next 3 hours, they sing and sing until they finally persuade Gustavo to give them some water.  Thank God Kelly was there, or they may have turned to skeletons and dust. 

When Gustavo told them their break was over and they had to start dancing, Carlos told him no.  Simply no.

“What did you say to me?!” It’s easy to tell he’s getting frustrated at an alarming pace.  Any wise person would run for cover right now, but there’s obviously not one single wiser person there who doesn’t want to see this disaster go down.

“I said NO.  Did you not hear me?  Are you deaf?  I…SAID…NO…!!!”  Carlos even gets all up in his face, not a centimeter between the two’s noses.

“YOU WILL GET IN THERE AND DANCE LIKE YOUR PANTS ARE ON FIRE…NOW!...BECAUSE I SAID SO!  OR YOU WILL LOSE YOUR JOB!!!” 

At that very moment, for whatever reason, something suddenly came over Carlos and he slapped Gustavo straight across the face with all his force and looks even amused while doing it.

“YOU…YOU $@*^)#*(#$&@(!*~@@$(%*^())&(*($*#)()!$&%&(*!!!!!”  Gustavo blows up like a volcano as Kelly tries to get control of him, the other guys sprinting outside, pushing each other to get out first, while Carlos flips off Gustavo before strolling away proudly, head held high and chest broad and pushed out.  After all, Carlos thinks, he did deserve what was coming at him.

“Are you feeling ok?  You don’t seem like you’re ‘here.’”  The afternoon nurse is making her rounds and I feel absolutely horrible.  My stomach is turning over, my skin feels like it’s on fire, and my head feels as though it may blow up any second now.  But I don’t want to tell her that because then I’ll have to take more meds and be wired for the next YEAR or so. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  I mutter, but the nurse obviously doubts me, placing the back of her hand against my forehead. 

“Oh my God,” she whispers half to herself before hustling out of my room like a coyote was on her tail.

“Wait!  What?!...” I begin to yell for her, but stop when my own hand falls onto my forehead and I’m surprised I’m not dead.  My forehead is blazing as though it were on fire!  Well, I guess that explains my horrible feelings, huh? 

Within 15 seconds, the nurse comes back followed by a doctor I don’t recall laying eyes upon once in my life.  The woman whispers to doctor mysterious while I feel excluded.  I mean, shouldn’t I know what’s going on with myself??

Before I know it, I’m being whisked away to the ICU and examined before the doctor concludes I have internal bleeding and may have a brain hemorrhage at any moment.  Huh.  No wonder I didn’t feel so swell.  A mask is put over my mouth and I’m instructed to breathe deeply.  To tell you the truth, I don’t want to.  I’m so afraid that when I fall into this deep sleep, I won’t come out of it.