Free Beautiful Disaster by Kylie Adams

going to find.” Lucien Nutt was talking.
    Max Biaggi Jr. was listening.
    “You fuck around with the audience, you’re going down. If you don’t believe in your own stuff one hundred percent, you can’t sell it.”
    Max nodded to the beat of the old pro’s wisdom. “Well, Gramps, I wish we’d had this little talk a week ago, because I’ve got, like, one or two good bits, and the rest is shit.”
    Lucien chuckled. “Well, kid, get big enough laughs on those bits, and you just might make it off the stage alive.” Impulsively, he pulled Max in for a bear hug.
    The crusty old bastard reeked of cigar smoke and Jack Daniel’s, but Max considered this spontaneous affection to be warm and comforting. It was everything he never got from his own parents.
    Max had returned from New York with an exciting agenda and a more serious approach to his future. If there had been one lesson learned during spring break, it was that life could not be taken for granted.
    Sho’s overdose had taught him that. So had Vanity’s ordeal with Jayson “J.J.” James. And Christina’s brush with death on the rooftop was something to reflect on, as well.
    All the deep thinking led him to ask one question of paramount importance: What the hell was he doing with his life? Besides living for the next party and the next sex act, Max had no immediate answer.
    Until one week ago. Max had been bored as hell on a Saturday night and decided to take in Bill Bellamy’s late-night set at the Improv. Going alone allowed him the indulgence of soaking up the experience.
    And he loved it—the belligerent crowd, the watered-down drinks, the bad food, the anxious please-God-don’t-let-me-bomb comedians, the tense atmosphere, the stench of wood and cigarettes. It was awesome.
    Not to mention serendipitous. The beer-sloshed flyer on Max’s table had instantly arrested his attention. START YOUR COMEDY CAREER TODAY : PRIVATE STAND-UP CLASSES .
    The idea conjured up secret yearnings from yesteryear. Max had long held a desire to be a comedian. And it was more than just his friends laughing at him all the time that triggered it. Down deep, the passion was there. But he knew the world of stand-up could be brutal. And for the rich son of a famous movie star, it would be even more brutal. No matter, the events of spring break were propelling him to move beyond his comfort zone.
    Signing up for the classes had been the easy part. After all, Lucien Nutt was the teacher, and the man was a comic legend, having appeared not only as a regular guest with Jay Leno, David Letterman, and Conan O’Brien, but as a featured player in scores of television sitcoms and big-screen gross-out comedies, usually typecast in the role of the horny grandfather.
    Lucien had worked one-on-one with Max, mentoring him on the finer points of tapping into his voice, finding his true persona, and developing a stylized, confident stage presence. The five-day stint was a crash course, to be sure. Still, Max could never remember feeling quite this excited about anything.
    Maybe the reason was finding a creative outlet that he owned lock, stock, and punch line. Or maybe it was the simple adrenaline. Just walking out on that stage was telling every member of the audience, “Yeah, motherfucker, I’m funny. Get ready to laugh.” That took a huge set of balls.
    And he needed them right now. By the end of Max’s first week of private instruction, Lucien had been so impressed with his progress that he convinced the Improv’s manager to give him a five-minute newbie spotlight.
    So here he was, in the same spot where Jerry Seinfeld, Ellen DeGeneres, Jim Carrey, and Dave Chappelle had once stood, waiting for his cue to take the mic on a Saturday night at the Improv. Crazy shit!
    There were a few other wannabes hanging around. Out of their mouths came words of well wishes, but the message blazing from their eyes said something along the lines of, “I hope you crash and burn, asshole.” Jealousy among