Chapter 108
AN: Thanks to Veronica and Laureen for their help with this
chapter!
Claire followed Laureen home from work
that day, going ten miles over the speed limit just to keep up with her
friend’s burgundy Saturn.
To say Laureen was pumped up was an
understatement. She let the door of her
apartment slam shut as soon as she’d ushered Claire inside, then scurried over
to the stereo in her living room, turned it on, and pressed play. Instantly, the intro to “Everybody
(Backstreet’s Back)” revved from the speakers.
“It’s my concert mix!” Laureen
announced, bouncing around to the music.
“I made it just for today! It has
all of the songs they’re gonna sing tonight!
All the singles… and all the songs from the new album!” she explained
breathlessly, wobbling her head from side to side with the cowbell rhythm.
Claire just watched her in
astonishment, amused at how quickly her friend had transformed from a composed
and professional dental hygienist to a thirteen-year-old girl, dancing giddily
around her living room to the Backstreet Boys.
She would never be on the same level as Laureen… but she had to admit,
her excitement was mounting higher. Now
that work was over, she was anxious to get ready and head to the venue.
“Can I use your bathroom? I’m gonna go change!” she yelled over the
blaring music, and Laureen nodded, happily performing the dance routine to the
song now. Grinning, Claire left her to
it and went into the bathroom with the small duffel bag she’d brought. She pulled out her change of clothes and
emerged a few minutes later, dressed in an 80s-esque teal, off-the-shoulder top
with a plain black camisole underneath and a pair of faded jeans.
Laureen took one look at her and then
turned down the music. “You look cute!”
she said brightly, then promptly added, “but I don’t think you should wear that
tonight.”
“What?
Why not?” Claire asked, looking down at herself. She thought the outfit was fine. It was casual and simple, yes, but it was
cute. And it was her. She wasn’t dressing to impress; she was just
going to have fun. This was a ‘fun’
outfit, wasn’t it?
Laureen gave her a crooked smile,
seeming to hesitate. Finally, she
answered, “If you dress normal, the hardcore fans might recognize you. And I don’t know if you want that…”
All of a sudden, Claire understood. What Laureen meant was that she might get
recognized as Nick’s former fiancée, the woman who walked out on him and broke
his heart. From what she knew, the
details of their breakup had never been made public, but it didn’t take much to
piece together the fact that she had been the one to instigate it. Nick’s devoted fans, the ones who hadn’t
hated her just for being engaged to him, would inevitably hate her now for
hurting him. And Laureen was right – she
really didn’t want those fans to know who she was.
“Well, what am I supposed to do, wear
a Halloween costume?” she asked, holding her arms out helplessly. “Do you still have that Batman outfit you
wore to the staff Halloween party last year, when you and Tim went as Batman
and Robin?”
“Batman, that’d be hot,” joked
Laureen. “No, silly; I have a better
idea. C’mere.” She led Claire back to her bedroom and flung
open the closet. Standing on her
tip-toes, she pulled a cardboard box down from the shelf over the clothes bar
and set it on her bed. She pulled off
the lid to reveal a neatly-arranged collection of what Claire immediately
recognized as Backstreet Boys apparel. A
blue bucket hat embroidered with the Bsb logo sat on top of a pile of folded
concert t-shirts, and wedged in alongside them were several glowsticks, a
bandana printed with the words Backstreet
Boys, a necklace with a pendant that said Nick, and what appeared to be a backstage pass on a long strap.
Claire pulled the pass out with
interest, but Laureen immediately said, “It’s not real. I think I got it from a cereal box or
something, years and years ago.” A blush
rose on her freckled cheeks as she giggled.
“This is all my old Bsb concert stuff,” she explained. “I was gonna just wear a regular outfit
tonight cause I’m past the teenybopper phase, but… if you and I dressed up in
this stuff instead…”
Claire could practically see the
wheels turning in Laureen’s mind, and she burst out laughing, seeing exactly
what she was getting at. “No one would ever realize I used to be Nick Carter’s
girlfriend,” she finished, snickering as she looked back into the box. “So can I wear that Nick necklace?”
***
An hour later, Claire and Laureen
stood side by side in front of Laureen’s full-length mirror, giggling at
themselves. They each wore a Bsb t-shirt
with their jeans, Laureen’s from the Black
& Blue tour, Claire’s from the Into
the Millennium one. Laureen had tied
the black Backstreet Boys bandana around her head, letting her auburn hair flow
out beneath it, while Claire wore the bucket hat and the Nick necklace.
“We should write Nick’s name on our
boobs so we can flash the stage,” said Claire with mock seriousness. “You can paint an ‘N’ on your right boob and
an ‘I’ on your left, and I’ll paint a ‘C’ and a ‘K’ on mine, and then we’ll
spell ‘Nick’!”
Laureen looked so horrified at the
thought of showing her breasts to Nick Carter that Claire burst out laughing
again. “He would be so surprised!” she
gasped for air. “Can you imagine the
look on his face?”
“Oh, I’m sure the guys get flashed a
lot, actually,” replied Laureen with a smirk, seeming relieved that Claire was
just kidding.
“Haha, maybe, but can you imagine his
reaction when he realized it was us?”
Laureen giggled. “Uhhh maybe we should settle for writing his
name on our faces or something instead.”
“Okay!” Claire cackled. “Let’s stop at Wal-mart on the way and get
something we can use for face paint. We
should totally get some shoe polish too, for the car.”
“Ahh, we did that for the Millennium
concert in Chicago!” Laureen exclaimed, laughing. “’Honk if you love the Backstreet Boys’…
yeah, we thought we were awesome.”
“Oh, we will be awesome!” said Claire firmly. “Come on, we should probably get going now if
we wanna have time for all that.”
They took Claire’s yellow Beetle, the more noticeable of their two cars, and in
the parking lot of Wal-Mart, they graffiti-ed all of the windows in white shoe
polish, things like KTBSPA! (which stood for “Keep the Backstreet Pride Alive,”
Laureen explained to Claire), BSB #1!, BACKSTREET’S BACK, ALRIGHT!, and
of course, Honk if you love BSB!
Then, in the front seat, they wrote on
each other’s foreheads and cheeks with the blue paint they’d bought. By the time they were done, Laureen had KTBSPA across her forehead, Claire had NICK across hers, and they both had a BSB and a heart on their cheeks. They got a confused-looking old woman to take
their picture standing next to the car in the parking lot, and then they set
off for the amphitheatre, blaring Backstreet Boys the whole way.
***
The amphitheatre seemed charged when
Claire and Laureen arrived, the warm night air crackling with an energy and
anticipation that was almost electric.
Many of the ten thousand seats were already filled, and everyone the two
women passed on their way to their seats radiated excitement. The butterflies in Claire’s stomach fluttered
with more intensity than ever; she felt almost nervous. In just an hour, Nick would be onstage right
in front of her.
She hadn’t seen him in almost six
months, and the last time she’d talked to him was the day after the album came
out, when she’d lied to him, telling him she couldn’t come to the concert
tonight because she would be in Iowa with Jamie. All complete bullshit, of course – she
wouldn’t have missed this for the world.
But Nick didn’t know that, and she wondered how he would react when he
found out she was there. When she’d
spoken to him on the phone that day, the wheels in her head turning quickly,
she’d thought it would be fun to surprise him.
He’d be happy to see her, she’d reasoned, especially if he’d thought she
was not coming.
Now she wasn’t so sure. What if this had all been a big mistake? Maybe he wouldn’t like the surprise; maybe he
would just be annoyed with her for playing with him. Maybe she should have just told him she was
coming when he’d asked her.
But there was no more time for maybes;
it was too late now. She was there, and
so was he, somewhere backstage. And when
he came out in an hour, it would be near impossible for him to not see her –
after all, she was in the front row.
When she’d asked Howie to get her
tickets, she’d never expected him to come through for her as well as he
had. A pair of seats, any seats, would
have been fine with her. She’d just
wanted to see Nick perform and counted on the fact that if Howie knew she was
going to be there, he’d make sure she met up with Nick after the show. But Howie had gone all out, giving her the
first-rate, VIP treatment. Not only were
she and Laureen sitting in the front row, but in each of their pockets was a
laminated pass that would get them backstage when the show was over and
everyone else was leaving. Laureen was
beyond psyched; she’d hung out with Nick on several occasions by now, but she’d
never met any of the other guys.
Tonight, she would be around all five of them. Claire was looking forward to seeing Howie,
AJ, Brian, and Kevin again too, but she was most anxious to see Nick.
Her anticipation grew as the minutes
to concert time steadily ticked down.
The amphitheatre quickly filled as the sun set, and over the upbeat rock
songs that blared over the speakers, a chant rose – “Back-street Boys! Back-street
Boys! Back-street Boys!” Soon
the whole audience was yelling the group’s name, and when Claire heard Laureen
chanting along beside her, she could not help but join in. For a few minutes, the entire audience was
one, chanting in unison for the group they so loved.
Claire had been to her share of
concerts before, but never had she seen anything quite like this before. At the rock shows she’d attended, the crowds
were always wound up, but many of them turned their excitement into aggression;
she’d come home with battle scars from the mosh pits that formed. At other concerts, the kind that attracted an
older, more “dignified” crowd, the audience had been laidback, almost lifeless,
sipping drinks and applauding politely between songs.
The audience at this concert was
refreshing, a blend of youthful excitement and innocent fun. Claire doubted she’d see girls moshing to
“Quit Playing Games,” but there was no doubt the crowd would be pumped. Laureen had told her to expect her ears to
ring for at least a full day afterward, not from the music, but from the
screaming.
As soon as the pavilion lights dimmed,
Claire knew her friend had not been exaggerating. A high-pitched chord of shrieks rose as the
lights fell, totally drowning out the background music. It was at least another ten minutes before
the Boys actually took the stage, but the girls in the audience screamed the
entire time.
Finally, the rock music faded, and the
live music began. A series of chords
that Claire immediately recognized from the song “Everybody” began to play,
over and over again, as strobe-lights flashed and neon-colored spotlights
twirled through the billowing clouds of fog on the stage. Claire could barely see the band at the back
of the stage, yet she kept her eyes peeled, waiting for her first glimpse of the
guys.
The suspense in the air seemed thick
enough to cut with a knife. Suddenly,
the constant screaming peaked sharply in volume, and Claire’s stomach jerked as
she looked around wildly for the Boys.
Being so close to the stage, she quickly realized it was still empty;
then Laureen elbowed her in the side and pointed upward. She glanced up and saw that the large screens
high above stage had sprung to life, projecting a montage of images and video
clips of the Boys.
The montage seemed generally chronological;
Claire smiled tenderly as she watched the footage of much younger-looking
versions of the five guys she’d known for the last few years. The change in Nick over the years had been
the greatest – she barely recognized him as the short, blonde, angel-faced
little boy singing alongside the others.
Even Howie and Brian had been taller than him back then. As the montage continued, amid the
intensifying screams of the audience, Nick grew rapidly, his face taking on a
more mature look as he began to tower over all but Kevin.
She could tell when the video moved
from a Nick she’d known of only through the TV and radio to the Nick she’d met
three-and-a-half years ago. It was
difficult to make a smooth transition between clips of the “Drowning” music video
and footage of the Boys performing on TRL the day the first single from their
last album had been released. Skipping
over three years between shots had the potential to be rough in any case, but
the lost time in between was more apparent than ever to Claire. Nick towards the end of 2001 had sported a
confident, almost cocky smirk on his round, youthful face, his blue eyes
sparkling beneath the long locks of silky blonde hair that spilled over his
brow. Even in the soundless video, Nick
three years later seemed much older in every way. His face, though still incredibly handsome,
was thinner and somewhat less vibrant.
His eyes still sparkled on the surface, but their depths held the
memories of the pain he’d been through that year. His hair was its natural shade, darker and
cropped close to his scalp, just beginning to grow back in after his chemo
treatments. Understandably so, the
montage only showed the happy parts of the Backstreet Boys’ career, and it
briefly sobered Claire to think of the anguish that had occurred between the
lapses in time.
And yet, there were plenty of
highlights to get them back to the present – footage from the last album
release, clips of music videos, shots of the Boys performing at the next year’s
VMA’s, which Claire had attended with Nick, and a whole whirlwind of media from
the last few months’ worth of promotional appearances for the new album. As the montage faded to a close, the audience
screamed their lungs out; whether by experience or instinct, everyone seemed to
know that it was finally time for the Boys to take the stage.
Sure enough, in the middle of the fog,
the silhouettes of five figures rose majestically from beneath the stage
floor. The unseen platform carried them
steadily upward to stage level and then stopped, rendering the fivesome
motionless in their statuesque formation.
Staring at them intently, Claire found she could scarcely breathe. She picked Nick out immediately; he was
second from the right, on her side of the stage, a head above Howie and Brian,
who flanked him. She could not see his
face, but she knew his figure intimately.
All at once, their faces were
illuminated by a spotlight, centered directly on Brian, whose voice rang out
the opening line to “Everybody.” On the
“Alright!” that followed, fireworks sparked, and the stage exploded in
light. Claire could see all five guys
perfectly now, as they broke their stoic stance and moved to the upbeat
music. Her eyes were immediately drawn
to Nick; she could not help but watch him.
It didn’t take her long to see that
Nick Carter was made for the stage. His
voice rang out clearly; she could distinguish its familiar tones even during
the five-part harmonies, and he moved with experience and surprising fluidity. About half of his moves were choreographed,
while the rest were improvised, as he interacted with the audience while the
rest of the group performed the more intricate dance steps. Claire smiled at the way screams rose from
whatever section of the floor seats he approached as he moved from one side of
the stage to the other. The Jumbotrons
projected his expressions, the smiles and smirks and waves he offered the
crowd, but from where she was standing, Claire could see them life size and in
person whenever he crossed in front of where she was standing, and she could
tell how much he was enjoying himself.
It brought a smile to her face, watching him.
It was also strange, almost
surreal. In some ways, she felt just
like any other spectator, one of the many fans who had come to the concert that
night. Nick didn’t pay her any special
attention, for he did not yet know she was there, standing on the floor just a
few feet below him. Yet she had a
connection to him that no one around her shared. It was as if she were carrying a special secret,
a secret which would be revealed the moment Nick looked down at just the right
spot and caught her eye, finally noticing her there. She was so close, she knew it would just be a
matter of time. The only question was
when.
***
Despite his bad mood earlier in the
day, once the Tampa show had begun, Nick had conjured up the usual exuberance
he felt whenever he was onstage. He’d
fallen into his groove easily, letting himself forget his disappointment at
Claire’s absence from the audience that night.
He pretended it was just another show, not expecting to see any familiar
faces in the large sea of them, except for in the section where Veronica, Mary,
Leighanne, and Kristin usually sat.
He’d sought Veronica out right away
and glanced over to her a few times in each song, always to find her smiling
back at him, her face shining with happiness.
“It never gets old!” she’d gushed to him after the first few shows, when
he’d good-naturedly asked her if she was getting sick of sitting through the
same old thing every night. He thought
it would get incredibly old, but here they were, two weeks in, and Veronica’s
radiant face still appeared in the audience every night, a beacon among the
waves of anonymous people.
With more than half of the show left
to go, Nick took his place on one of the five tall stools set up in the center
of the stage for “I Want It That Way.”
He smiled at the way the screams rose as the familiar chords to the song
took form; out of all of their singles, this had been their biggest hit and
would always be the most easily-distinguishable Backstreet Boys song, a true
fan favorite. He and the guys had sang
it so many times in 1999, it had seemed stale to them, but in the last few
years, the song had taken on new life.
It was a burst of nostalgia for the fans, as well as for them, and
whenever they sang it, the audience lit up more than ever. It was the song they sang along to the
loudest, and Nick loved to hear the chorus of voices rising out of the
audience, singing their song. All it
took was for the band to start up that familiar intro, and the fans would
automatically jump in with the lyrics; sometimes the guys wouldn’t even sing
some of their lines, letting the fans take over.
Nick let his eyes pan slowly across
the front row as Brian started to sing the first verse. “You
are… my fire…” Every girl he saw was
singing along. “The one… desire…” Their
eyes were shining, their mouths moving in unison with Brian’s. “Believe…” The short Latina girl with the big
breasts... “When I say…” The girl with the black bandana on her head…
the girl in the blue bucket hat…
She was looking right at him, and when
his eyes locked with hers, his heart staccatoed. He did a double take, but it wasn’t necessary
– he already knew. The sweet face
beneath the floppy brim of that hat… it was hers. The one face he’d been hoping to see, more
than any other, at the concert that night.
Claire’s. She was there.
She was a mere few feet in front of
him, gazing up at him. Her mouth was
open, and he could tell by her expression that she had just realized he had
discovered her. She was wide-eyed,
almost like a deer in headlights.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was sure his own expression looked
similar – a display of total surprise and shock. For a few seconds, they just stared at each
other, transfixed; Nick was frozen, almost unable to react.
He was glad it was “I Want It That
Way” they were singing because when he missed his cue to start the second
verse, it was hardly noticeable; the fans covered for him, singing loudly. “But
we… are two worlds apart…”
Finally recovering from his stupor,
Nick instinctively picked up the next lyric: “Can’t reach to… your heart…” But as he carried on singing, he could not
look away from Claire. “When you say… that I want it that way. Tell me why…”
He saw her mouth move along with his
as she sang along with the chorus; halfway through, her lips curved into an
impish little smirk, and she winked at him from beneath the brim of her
hat. He was still stunned, but he found
himself smiling back, a sudden warmth spreading through him like hot, melted
chocolate. She was there. She had come after all.
He tried to make sure he looked out
into every section of the amphitheatre during the crowd-pleasing Millennium single, but he could not help
but glance back at Claire every few seconds.
She was swaying back and forth in time to the music, seeming to enjoy
herself. The girl in the black bandana
standing next to her was Laureen, he quickly realized; both of them kept
beaming up at him as he sang. They all
knew the secret was out, and the two of them looked pleased with themselves for
surprising him.
How had they done it? he wondered at
first. Had Claire been planning this all
along? Had the excuse that she was going
to be up North with Jamie been nothing but a story? How had she gotten the front row seats?
He quickly decided she must have had
help, and the first chance he got, when the guys went backstage after “Larger
Than Life,” he asked them, “So did you guys know Claire was gonna be here?”
Four pairs of eyes met, and Howie, AJ,
Brian, and Kevin exchanged smirks. “We
knew,” AJ admitted. “She called D before
tickets even went on sale and asked if he could hook her up.”
“She made me promise not to tell you,”
Howie added sheepishly. “She wanted it
to be a surprise.”
“Are you surprised?” asked Brian,
grinning cheekily.
Nick smirked. “I missed a whole line of ‘I Want It That
Way’ when I saw her. Does that answer
your question?”
They all chuckled.
“So you can’t be mad at her anymore,
Nick – she was never planning to go out of town with that loser she’s dating;
she just said that to mess with your mind,” Howie explained.
Nick nodded; he had surmised as
much. He wasn’t mad, but he wondered why
she hadn’t just told him she wanted to come when he’d first asked her. That was Claire, though – she liked to be
difficult.
“You know, though, Nick, if you are
mad…” said AJ as they all took their places on the platform that would carry
them back to the stage, “here’s your chance for a little payback.”
Huh? Nick thought, momentarily
confused. Then, as the platform jerked
and began to rise, he realized – it was time for “Siberia.”
The familiar riff was already playing
as they took the stage, and the screams in the audience swelled with excitement
as the fans recognized it. Brian stepped
forward into the halo of light created by a single spotlight in the center of
the stage and began to sing. As he did,
Nick’s eyes quickly found Claire and locked onto her. He found her looking back at him, rather than
at Brian. All around her, girls were
rocking back and forth to the music, doting smiles glued to their faces; in their
midst, Claire stuck out. She stood
motionless, almost frozen, gazing up at him.
The smile was missing from her face.
Nick was glad he had opted not to take
any of the solos in this song, for at the moment, he didn’t think he could find
his voice to sing. Not with her staring
up at him that way, looking almost the same way she had looked the day she’d
stood on his front porch and told him it was over.
Not with the memories of her betrayal
haunting him…
He squared his shoulders, unlocked the
deadbolt, and pulled the door open, trying to brace himself for whatever she
had to say.
“Hey,” she greeted him softly, without
even the ghost of a smile. And that was
when he knew.
He knew, even before she said it, that
it was over.
“Nick…” she began, when he did not
reply. “I’m really sorry, but… I can’t
do this anymore.”
In his
mind’s eye, he saw the engagement ring he’d once placed on her finger, lying at
his feet upon the unforgiving concrete.
A lump rose in his throat, but he swallowed hard, forcing it down in
time to join in on the chorus.
“Then my heart did time in Siberia…”
He walked
forward with the others as they sang, getting a better view of her from the
front of the stage. Her eyes were large
and luminous, and the lights caught the moisture in them, making them shine. She broke her gaze with him only once, dipping
her head as she reached up to swipe away a stray tear. But then she straightened again and returned
her eyes to him. At that moment, Nick
understood the old phrase “the eyes are the window to the soul” better than he
ever had before. Claire’s were wide open
and filled with sorrow, a sorrow she wasn’t trying to hide from him.
She really
was sorry, he realized. Maybe she still
didn’t want to be with him… but she was at least sorry for this. Even in the hazy lighting, he could see the
remorse written all over her face. And
as their eyes bored into each other, they reached a level of mutual
understanding.
She
regretted what she had done to him.
She’d apologized for it before, but the tears sparkling on her cheeks
now spoke more honesty than her voice ever could. And as a blizzard of tiny bubbles, meant to
look like snow, engulfed the stage, while the lights slowly dimmed and the
music gradually faded, Nick wordlessly forgave her.
***