Miserable at Best (Sequel to Our Never Ending Melody) (NateWantsToBattle)

Chapter 29

BRETT

I hate being home alone with Nate. Not that I hate him, I just noticed that Nate tends to have episodes when no one his here.

Whether it be him blacking out, or coughing up blood, or even falling.

It's kind of like I'm babysitting him, but at the same time, I'm not. Nate can take care of himself, but I see that he struggles.

Morgan took the baby with her this time, cause she thought Nate was going to do some work, which he planned on doing.

Right now, in my wonderful world of mine.. I am fucking panicking. I lost Nate ONCE again. Three places he could be. Bedroom, office, bathroom.

He's not sleeping, I know that for sure. Not in the bathroom, he'd be throwing up. So.. Office.

I walk into the office, to find Nate actually in here. He was at his desk, and had the Mira, and was playing a song, that I couldn't recognize. He was wearing a beanie, and I am unsure why...

"Hey Nate!" I call. "What you playing?"

He didn't hear me.. He didn't even acknowledge me. I'm such an idiot. No wonder why he didn't hear me! He's got his headphones on.

Nate then looked up, stopping what he was doing. "Hey what's up?"

"When's Morgan getting home?" I ask him..

"Huh?" He asked, raising his voice.

"Morgan?!" I start. "You know? Your girlfriend. The women you have a kid with!?" I add.

He looked at me, then took his headphones. "What are you saying?" He asked me.

"Oh, I was yelling at you. I was asking when your girlfriend was coming home." I tell him.

"You said something about the women I had a kid with." He looked at me.

"Well, yeah.. I said that." I tell him.

He glanced to his computer, then back to me. "I'm quite aware of the women I have a kid with. She happens to be my girlfriend, Brett." He explained sharply, but I knew he was joking around.

"So whatcha doing?" I ask him, sitting on his desk.

"Off the desk." He slapped my back, causing me to stand up.

"What are you doing?" I repeat.

"Keeping myself occupied." He said.

"By actually playing music?" I ask.

"I'm bored." He whined. "I can't really go anywhere. I can't drive or anything, so what's the point?" He asked.

I look at him for a moment, then sigh.

"Why are you wearing a beanie?" I ask.

He looked at me then sighed. "Cause my hair is out of whack." He told me.

"How so?"

He pulled the beanie off, revealing his mess of a hair. It was everywhere from it not being brushed in a while. His hair was somewhat long, and curled due to the fact he hasn't really been able to take care of it properly.

I've never actually seen his hair curl like this.

"Why is it curly?" I ask him.

"Cause I shower daily, and my hair gets wet, and I don't tend to it properly, so it curls like crazy." He told me.

"You look like a teenager again." I tell him.

"Cause you've seen me as a teenager." He scoffed with a laugh.

"Cause you still look the same." I say to him.

He rolled his eyes, with a small chuckle. "Yeah, It was sorta curly when I was younger, then I started straightening it." He explained.

"So, it's curly because you haven't done anything with it, and it's overgrown?" I ask him.

"Yeah, I should probably cut it soon." He told me running his fingers through his hair.

"Looks like you just DID." I say to him, watching a small clump of hair fall out in his hand.

"Hmm?" He asked, before looking down. I saw him stand up quickly, backing up. "What's happening?" He asked quietly.

"Looks like your hairs falling out." I tell him, as he threw the small clump into the garbage.

"But that's not even a symptom." He said to me then sighed, sitting back down.

"What the hell?" I ask, sitting on the stool.

He sighed madly, putting the beanie back on. "Why me?" He asked, tilting his head back, against his hair. "What the fuck did I do, to deserve this?"

I only sit there, as he then remained silent. He looked over, before getting up, to put the guitar back on the wall only to lose his balance, fighting to keep himself up.

"Hold on Nate." I sigh, getting up, to help him.

After he sat back down, he sigh, resting his face in the palm of his hand.

"I'm sorry Nate." I say to him, after a moment of silence.

"Why the hell are you sorry?" He asked me, pulling a strand of his own hair of his jacket.

"Cause you don't deserve this." I say to him. "You really don't."

"Whatever." He mumbled. "I'm clearly destined to die anyways.."

"Don't even say that." I narrow my eyes.

"Well, it's true." He hissed. "I literally have nothing to help me out now." He sighed.

"Wait, what are you saying?" I ask. "You've got your --"

"The medication stopped working." He cut me off.

"Huh?" I ask, "but you told me the other day they were still in effect."

"I lied to you." He told me. "So you wouldn't worry."

"Nate," I start with him. "You can tell me these things. Your secret is safe with me." I tell him.

"I know, but I didn't want you to worry more than you do." He sighed, getting up. He made his way to the office door, opening it.

"I really don't want you to worry much." He told me. "What's the point in worrying about me, if I'm just going to die?"