K: "Nicky? You know the cadaver!?"
T: "It's my cousin!"
K: "You bought your cousin?"
T: "Just get off of him."
Kiwi plopped down in the grass, as I watched my cousin stare at both of us. He must've been sleeping, as he looked groggy and confused. I found it odd that he wasn't as frantic as we were, having just been shaken and stirred awake by a stranger.

N: "Hey, guys. What's up?"
He ran his fingers through his brown hair and rubbed his eyes; squinting at Kiwi for a moment.
N: "...Are you Brendon Urie?"
K: "...Yes."
T: "No, it's Kiwi!"
K: "For a small fee, I could be."
T: "Stop! What are you doing here? Why would you just show up like an idiot, lay in the lawn and not call?"
N: "I did call! I called like ten times and texted you that I got your address from Uncle Brian and was coming over to talk."

  
    I gave him a quizzical look, as I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw it did have several missed calls and a text from him. I'd been asleep and missed all of them.
T: "Fine, but why wouldn't you wait until I responded to come over? Not to sound like a douche, but I haven't seen you in years; we aren't really on a drop by basis."
N: "We used to be..."
T: "Yeah, when we were fourteen. I heard about you Nicolai. I know about all the bullshit you've gotten yourself into."
N: "Oh yeah? Who the hell's been talking about me!?"
He began to raise his voice, as he stared me down with a mix of hurt and anger that he was the chewy nougat center of family gossip.
Kiwi hoisted himself to his feet and held up his hands in a defensive manner.
K: "Lets continue this inside before the neighbors hear. We haven't passed the "nazi, murderer or normal " probationary period yet and I'd like to be invited to the neighborhood ice cream socials."

I was assaulted by the smell of scented candles, as we entered the house. I could tell Ally had been burning them and making herself at home whenever she came to look after our morkies- Zero, Bullet and Brynlee- while we were gone. They came scrambling out of their puppy playroom and into the kitchen to greet us and scavenge for treats. I watched Nick drop his backpack and get on floor to play with them and couldn't help but notice how thin and pale he was. He'd gotten his lip and nose pierced since last time I'd seen him, and tattoos up his arms and neck. He still looked handsome and somewhat put together in his black studded vest, a white band tank and black ripped jeans that looked as skinny as Kiwi's Chinese finger trap trousers.

Kitchen

    Nick took a seat at the island, as Kiwi grabbed two beers from the fridge and cautiously placed one in front of him.
K: "Are you of age?"
N: "I'm 24."
K: "...I dunno...you could be a liar like your cousin."
N: "Like Taylor? She's not like that."
K: "Not anymore, but you should've seen her a couple years ago. Like, if she told me she was dead, I would have her cremated just to make sure; that's how bad it was."
T: "You know I'm standing right here..."
N: "What's he talking about, T? Sounds pretty juicy."
He smiled a pearly white grin and snatched the beer from Kiwi; chugging like he'd been wandering in the desert for days.
T: "I'll tell you later. I'm more concerned with why you were lying in the yard and when we're getting a new gate, because apparently ours doesn't keep out pests."
N: "I had to get out of that house. You know how my dad is; no one can stand him. I couldn't take it anymore, for my own sanity. I tried to get my own place with friends but I have no credit and Uncle Dan won't rent me one of his places because he doesn't trust me to keep a job."
K: "Oh, you're the fuck up nephew!"
He immediately slapped a hand over his mouth, like the words snuck out on their own and he was truly shocked to hear them.
N: "He said that!?"
T: "Don't act so surprised.You know your dad tells Uncle Brian everything and then he tells the rest of the family. I know about the drugs, and the criminal record and the getting fired from every job you've had. Your mug shot on CrimeWatch.com really doesn't do your chiseled jaw line justice."

     I guess I'll take this time to do a cut away explanation; I know you people like your nitty grittys. Remember I told you about my faux jew Uncle Mike that used to sneak into my parent's pool when we weren't home? That's Nick's dad. He was adopted from Russia when he was a baby by Mike and my just as nutty, schizophrenic Aunt Jackie. She used to be normal and actually extremely intelligent, but she started to deteriorate over the years. She couldn't have conversations with people, would forget our names, couldn't take care of herself, nothing. She had been residing in an assisted living apartment for the past few years and whenever Nick would visit her, she'd tell him she never wanted him and things like that; but I don't think she realized what she was saying.

Mike on the other hand was a piping hot off the griddle mess all his own. I already told you about the swearing he has ancestors that died in the holocaust, even though he converted from Catholicism in the 80's. He used to be an English professor at Princeton, which he left to start his own editing business. That fell through, so he was forced to take odds and ends jobs, like writing articles for different magazines, substitute teaching and tutoring. He blew any money he made on expensive dinners, movies and just frivolous American pastimes. I should've realized how badly all that impacted Nick, but when he started spiraling out of control, I kinda just let him go.

     
We used to be close when we were younger. He would always come to our frequent family get togethers and we'd spend the whole time getting into mischievous adventures, horsing around and carrying on. I'd say I noticed a difference in him around age 14/15. Ain't that always the beginning of shit season, though? He got fired from every job he had for stealing, he was always getting arrested for drug-related charges or girls claiming he assaulted them. He'd gotten into hard drugs a few years ago and gone to rehab. When he got out, his therapist told him to reach out to family members and try to repair relationships but I got all holier than thou and dropped the ball; ignoring his attempts to talk. To be fair though, my mom and Daddy Dan did try to get him on the straight and narrow for awhile. They'd have him over for dinner, take him out for activities, and Dan would try to do bonding projects with him, like fixing cars. Eventually, he stopped spending time with them and I guess really never changed. So, if Patti and Dan could give him the world and he didn't want it, I had no clue what he thought I could do for him.

N: "I just want a second chance with you guys. I don't wanna be like this anymore, T. I'm getting too old for this."
His words felt like they hit me in the throat and almost made me physically cough. How many times had I said that? I don't wanna be like this anymore. Every time I said it, I wished someone would give me a chance and save me. Could I do that for someone else? Did I even want to do that for someone else, was a better question.
T: "What about when my parents tried to help you and you just vanished?"
N: "I just...wasn't ready. That probably sounds stupid but I never really had parental figures trying to help me or telling me what to do. I know it was for the best but it made me mad, like I was getting bossed around. I thought I liked it better being free with no rules."
T: "And what do you expect me to do?"
N: "I was wondering if I could stay here for a minute-"
K: "-Well, if that's the case, you've overstepped your stay."
T: "...Overstayed your welcome?"
N: "I can tell by your jokes, you're gonna be a great dad."
K: "You guys are dicks. I'm just trying to be part of the conversation; I'm third wheelin' like a mother."
T: "What do you mean by 'a minute'?"
N: "Just a few weeks so I can find a job and my own place. I can't get myself together in that house with my dad. It's too stressful and I'm too busy worrying about him. I can't take anymore bickering, bitching, the whole world is against him, everyone is an asshole for not lending him money..."
He trailed off and stared into space; his eyes looking like tears were on the verge of spilling out.

     Kiwi could sense our mexerican stand-off was going nowhere and his bleeding heart got the best of him. He pat Nick on the back, trying to console him, and looked at me like I was a bitter ice queen for not accepting him with open arms.
K: "Buck up, bud. You look like someone gutted your pet unicorn. It's late, so stay here tonight and we'll decide what to do with you in the morning."

     I showed Nick upstairs and let him wander around all the bedrooms until he found one to his liking. I followed him in, as he looked around and began unpacking his backpack.
T: "I guess text me or come knock if you need anything."
N: "...Thanks for letting me stay; I know you don't want me here."
T: "I never said that. I don't like how you went about this whole thing and ambushed me. I know things have been shitty for you and I can understand why you did all the dumb things you did but you need to start thinking before you do shit. Goodnight, Nicky. I do love you, believe it or not."
N: "I love you too, T. Happy Birthday."

I was exhausted from all the commotion in the ocean, as I changed into pajamas and threw myself in bed with the dogs; almost gagging on the burning scent of Kiwi's shaving cream. He emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around him and steam flowing into the room like he was staring in a magic show and appeared out of the smoke.
K: "Am I getting dressed or are we having playtime? I don't feel like getting dressed and taking it off and putting it back on."
T: "What are we playing?"
K: "Sex."
T: "Oh! Oh my god, not tonight...I am so stressed about Nick."
K: "Suit yourself but once I lock my chastity belt, it doesn't come off."
T: "No one likes guilt sex."
K: "I don't mind it. Beats a stick in the eye, right?"
He tried to get me to smile but nothin' doin'. I didn't want to deal with Nick's shit but I couldn't stop thinking about how defeated he looked and how I knew how he felt all too well.

     Kiwi got in bed and grabbed his book off the nightstand to read, as the pups gathered around him like it was Kiwi's storybook corner. He opened it and began reading but abruptly slammed it shut and looked at me.
K: "I can't enjoy my book until you tell me what's wrong."
T: "I'm just so conflicted about Nick. I don't want him here, we have so much going on and I don't need to be burdened by his life choices and his shit anchor dragging me down...but I don't feel right abandoning him again either. I feel obligated to help him after everything I went through and all the people I hurt, like I have to redeem myself."
K: "Then do what I do when I think I'm conflicted. You have choice A and choice B. You don't really like A but you're definitely not gonna do B, so what are you left with? You don't want him here but you're not gonna let him be homeless when the way he was raised isn't his fault. Our lives are great right now, we have more than enough room to not be bothered by him; let's help him out for a few weeks and do something good to pay it forward. Maybe it'll be fun."