Piece 11: Respect
Ooh, your kiss is sweeter than honey But baby, guess what, so is my money And all I want you to do for me is give it to me when you get home All right now When you get home, all right
R-E-S-P-E-C-T Find out what it means to me R-E-S-P-E-C-T Take out the TCP Ohhh...
A little respect...
-Respect; Kelly Clarkson
(American Idol)
Things were icy between the two as Kelly tried to fix their relationship and Nick continued to be aloof and distant. He would go out with friends after the shows and come into their hotel room at all hours of the night, smelling like dirty clubs. Surprisingly enough, he was never staggeringly drunk, but his clothes stunk of the bar scene . . . alcohol, cigarette smoke, and cheap perfume.
It was terrible for Kelly, who was allergic to cigarette smoke, and every time Nick would come in from a club, Kelly's eyes would water and she'd cough and sneeze until the sun came up. Still, Nick continued to put her through it . . . and by the end of the tour's eighth week, she was sick of dealing with all of his junk. If he wanted to be a loser, then he could be a loser, but not with her on his arm.
"D*mn it, Nick, if you don't get your act together, I'm out the door."
"Kelly," Nick rolled his eyes as he took his clothes off at three in the morning. He'd just gotten back from a night out clubbing with friends. "Don't threaten me, okay? I don't appreciate it."
"Well, you wanna know what I don't appreciate?" Kelly sat up further in their bed and pointed her finger at him. "I don't appreciate being woken up every morning at three or four o'clock, to you coming in here smelling like sh*t; I don't appreciate you going to places that make your clothes reek with something that I'm allergic to; I don't appreciate you treating me horribly because your life isn't going the way you want it to; I don't appreciate--"
"Just shut up, Kel, a'right? You're driving me nuts lately!"
"You stupid ass hole," Kelly mumbled, slipping out of bed and walking towards the bathroom.
"I'm not an ass hole, okay?" Nick grabbed her hand and pulled her back. "Quit being a diva princess."
"Nick, do you even hear yourself?" She pulled her hand free and grabbed a pillow, burying her face in it, and screaming at the top of her lungs. She knew if she didn't get her aggression out somehow, she'd end up beating the crap out of him. "You've gone completely crazy! Are you drunk? Are you drunk like twenty-four-seven?!"
"No, I'm not drunk!"
"Then what is wrong with you?? I thought you loved me! You treat me like sh*t!"
Nick sighed and dropped his head in his hands, his heart feeling as though it weighed a million pounds. He couldn't answer her questions . . . he didn't know what was wrong with him. He was losing it. All of it.
