Chapter 98
AN: Thanks to
Veronica for the inspiration for parts of this chapter!
A week later, Nick fingered a crumpled scrap of paper on his desk,
brushing his fingertips over the words that been scrawled hastily across it in
a distinctly feminine hand.
Veronica Peterson
555-7667
Flipping open his cell phone, he went to his contacts menu and
started to enter her name and number.
Veronica had given him the information last Saturday, after the
movie. They had both gone out to grab a
bite to eat with AJ and Mary afterwards, and the four of them had ended up
staying at the restaurant for over two hours, talking long after they had
finished their meals. When Veronica had
handed him her number in the parking lot that night, he had pocketed it and
told her he would give her a call sometime, not at all sure if he would. She seemed like a nice woman, but wasn’t sure
if he was actually interested in her or not.
Still, he’d kept her number, and when Friday rolled around and he
found himself without plans, he’d dug the piece of paper out and given her a
call. They’d gone to another movie – a
harmless date for two people who barely knew each other – and then out for a
snack, though they’d ended up talking more than eating. He’d found out a lot about her that night. A native of Rochester, New York, not far from
his birthplace, Jamestown, she had moved out to Los Angeles a few months ago,
looking to make a change in her life.
“I want to go back to school, eventually,” she’d told him. “I got my associate’s degree back in New
York, but then I decided to take a break from school and started working in a
library and just never went back. But I
do want to finish out my degree so I can get a better job, something I really
love doing. Right now I’m just trying to
save up some money so I can afford to concentrate on school later.”
Listening to her, Nick had wondered what it would have been like
to go to college and have a “regular” career, outside the music business. Veronica had been an English major. He wondered what field of study he would have
chosen. Probably music, he thought, or
something in the arts. There was
really nothing else he’d ever considered himself good enough at. Academics weren’t his forte; he’d never been
much of a scholar in school. But music,
art, and drama – those were the areas in which he’d always excelled. And when he thought of that way, he decided
that he was exactly in the right position.
He was a successful musician, and he wouldn’t trade it for
anything. Many times, it seemed like the
one aspect of his life that wasn’t completely messed up. He could lose his family, his fiancée, his
health… but as long as he had his music, there was at least one thing to live
for. He tried to remind himself of that
whenever he got depressed.
He wasn’t depressed now though.
In fact, he was excited about the upcoming week. In two days, he and the guys were flying to
Stockholm to finish recording a few more potential tracks for their album. He loved Stockholm; it held a lot of good
memories for him and the rest of the group, memories of the old days, the
beginning, when they’d been young and fresh and beyond excited about making
their very first CD. They’d gone through
a lot since then, so much that sometimes “the beginning” seemed like a past life
to Nick, but that was why it was always nice to go back and remember.
He still had a lot to do before he left; he hadn’t even started
packing yet. But it was Saturday night,
and he didn’t feel like staying in. As
soon as he pressed the button to store Veronica’s information in his phone, he
tapped a different button to dial her number.
***
“So have you ever been here before?”
Nick asked Veronica as he led her into the trendy Italian restaurant, which had
been his suggestion for dinner that night.
“No, never have,” answered Veronica,
shaking her head. “There’s a lot of
places in LA I haven’t been; I haven’t really met many people here yet, outside
of work.”
“Ahh... well, I’ll have to show you
some of the sights then, huh?”
“That would be great,” said Veronica
with a smile.
“Like this place… this place is
amazing. The food is so damn good. I really like their chicken parmesan. But, I mean, anything you get will be good, I
can almost guarantee.”
“I love chicken parmesan,” Veronica
commented.
“Perfect,” said Nick, walking up to
the host, who recognized him and greeted him by name.
“Buona
sera, Mr. Carter,” said the host, his Italian accent strong. “Would you like to be seated at a private
table?”
“Sure, that would be great, thanks,”
replied Nick with a nod of gratitude.
“My pleasure. Marco will escort you to your table.” He gestured to a second man who had come up,
and they followed the latter to a small table in a private section of the restaurant.
“Wow, this is really nice, Nick,” said
Veronica, looking all around. “It feels
so weird to be sitting here with you. My
friends back in Rochester will never believe it.” She laughed nervously.
Nick smiled across the table at
her. Mary had told him that she was a
fan, although she didn’t act like one.
Not that she didn’t seem to like him, but she was good about not doing
the things that fans did that made it impossible for him to actually hang out
with them like normal people. She didn’t
freak out around him, didn’t cry or scream or throw herself at him or shout
that she loved him, number one. And
number two, she didn’t ask too many questions about “Nick the Backstreet
Boy.” When he’d told her that he and the
guys were flying to Sweden, she’d asked how the album was going and told him
she was sure it would be wonderful, but beyond that, she’d kept the “fan-ish”
questions to a minimum. She seemed
genuinely interested in getting to know him,
the real Nick Carter.
“Nah, don’t think that; I don’t want
it to feel weird for you,” he replied. “I’m
just a regular guy, you know, for the most part.”
Veronica smiled. “I know.”
After a waiter had come to bring them
water and take their drink orders, they both opened their menus and flipped
through. Nick quickly decided on the
chicken parmesan; after he’d mentioned it to Veronica, he realized how good it
sounded that night. Veronica seemed to
be going between two different choices; she kept flipping from one page to
another and back again, studying the choices with her brow furrowed in thought.
“Know what you’re getting?” Nick
asked.
“Um… probably one of their salads,”
answered Veronica, glancing up briefly from her menu.
“Really?” Nick raised his brows in surprise. “You do like Italian, don’t you?” Didn’t
I ask her that in the car? he wondered.
I did, didn’t I?
“Oh yeah! It’s my favorite! I just… like salad too.”
Nick frowned, not sure how anyone
could prefer salad to a big Italian meal, with pasta and meat and garlic
bread… “You could always get a side
salad with your meal,” he suggested.
“Their pasta dishes are all so good, I swear.”
“I dunno…” Veronica hesitated. “I’m not all that hungry; I don’t think I
could eat a big meal.”
“That’s why they have to-go
containers,” Nick grinned. “C’mon, how
can you resist? If you’re worried about
the price, by the way, don’t be… I’m buyin’.”
Veronica looked up and immediately
started in with the, “Oh Nick, you don’t have to do that!” spiel, but Nick was
not to be swayed. In the end, Veronica
ordered fettuccini alfredo and a small salad when the waiter came back, and
Nick got his chicken parmesan, and everyone was happy.
“How is it?” he asked, once their
meals had arrived and they’d started eating.
“Really good,” Veronica admitted.
“Told ya,” Nick gloated, winking
across the table at her. They fell into
silence as they ate, Veronica slowly twirling her pasta around her fork and
seeming to savor each bite while Nick plowed through his chicken parmesan.
“So can I ask you a question?” Nick
spoke up after awhile.
Veronica looked up. “Sure, what?”
Nick set his fork down. “It’s no secret that AJ and Mary pretty much
set us up. I was just wondering… did you
have anything to do with that, or did Mary come to you first and, like… I
dunno… beg you to let me take you or something?”
Veronica’s eyes went wide. “Nick!” she cried. “No, of course she didn’t beg me!
Why would you think that??”
Nick shrugged, feeling his cheeks
redden slightly. “Sorry,” he said
quickly. “I just had to ask, ‘cause… I
dunno if you know or not, but I just broke up with my fiancée not too long ago
– well, it was in December… but it doesn’t feel like that long ago – and I know
AJ’s been trying to get me to move on, ya know?
I just didn’t want this to be like a pity date or something.”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that!”
Veronica insisted. “I… I did have something to do with it. I freaked out the first time AJ walked into
the deli to see Mary… I had just started working there and had no idea she was
dating him. Everyone out here is so used
to seeing celebrities, but I’m still getting used to it – I still get
starstruck.” She gave him a rather
embarrassed smile and continued, “Not to mention I’ve been a fan of you guys
for a long time. Anyway, once Mary knew
that and had gotten to know me… I guess she thought we might be good together.”
Nick smiled, relaxing a little. So Veronica was a fan. He’d never dated a fan before, but she seemed
normal enough, not at all psycho, so he wasn’t against the idea. At least she would support his work and
foresee what she was getting herself into by dating him, if indeed they kept
seeing each other.
“Thanks for answering that,” he told
her. “Sorry to put you on the spot.”
“It’s okay.” Veronica gave him a small smile. “I know you’ve been used in the past. I don’t want you to think I’m another one of
those girls, because I’m not. I would
never try to hurt you or manipulate you.
I know how it feels to be manipulated, and it’s not fun... not at all.”
Nick could sense that she was talking
from past experience now and wondered if he should ask about it. On one hand, it seemed too early to start
talking about past relationships, but in his experience, people didn’t make
comments like that without expecting to elaborate on them. Maybe she wanted to be asked.
“If you don’t mind me asking… who
manipulated you?” he probed gently.
“My last boyfriend. He was very controlling. It took me two years to figure that out and
work up the courage to dump him, but I finally did. That’s part of the reason I moved to the west
coast, to get away from him. It was hard
living in the same town as him… too many memories, you know. Too many chances of running into him.”
“I hear ya there,” agreed Nick
automatically. “Cla- I mean, my
ex-fiancée lives in Tampa… which is part of the reason I bought a new house
here in LA. I need to move on and get
her out of my mind, and I figured the only way I’m going to do that is to stay
away from her.”
Veronica offered him a sympathetic smile
across the table. “Break-ups are so
hard,” she empathized. “I was a mess
after my last one, even though I was the one who ended it. It’s taken me a long time to feel like I’m
ready to start dating again.”
Nick nodded, understanding her
perfectly. “I know what you mean,” he
told her. “I’m the same way.” I’m
not even sure if I am ready, he
added in his head, but he wasn’t ready to confess that out loud yet. He didn’t want her to feel like she was just
some kind of experiment for him. The
truth was, he’d had a good enough time with her this past week; she was a
really nice girl. But she wasn’t… Claire.
And as much as he was trying to give Veronica a chance, he knew he was
inwardly comparing her to Claire.
Constantly. It wasn’t fair to Veronica
– he also knew that – but he couldn’t help himself.
“I don’t blame you,” said
Veronica. “You were engaged, and now
you’re not. That’s a huge adjustment to
have to make.”
Nick nodded and was silent for a
moment, thinking. On a whim, he asked
her, “How do you do it? I mean, how did you get over your last
boyfriend?”
“Truthfully…” Veronica began slowly,
looking contemplative, “I was really upset at first. And then I eventually just got all that
emotion out through writing. I wrote so
many poems before I made the decision to move out here.”
Nick raised his eyebrows in
surprise. “So you’re a writer, huh?” he
asked, impressed. He’d always admired
creativity, whether it be music, writing, art, drama, whatever.
“Well… sort of,” answered Veronica,
shrugging and looking away, as if she were suddenly self-conscious. “I’m an amateur writer, I guess you could
say. It’s just something I do for fun.”
“That’s really cool,” Nick said with
sincerity. “So you wrote poems…”
“Poems, short stories… even just journal
entries. They all helped me get my
feelings out, and I needed that, ‘cause usually I’m not all that great about
talking about my emotions. I’m much more
articulate and open on paper than in person.
Honestly, I’ve opened up to you a lot more already than I usually do
with people I’ve known for as short a time as I’ve known you. But then again, I guess with you it’s sort of
different… I feel like I’ve known you
for years, just from being a fan.” She
laughed nervously. “Does that make
sense?”
Nick smiled. “Yeah, I think so.” He was flattered, in a way, that she felt
comfortable around him, that she felt she could open up to him. But a part of him thought, you don’t really know me at all. He’d said the words before, years ago, for
MTV’s Diary episode about the
group: “You think you know… but you have no idea.” That was just how it was. He and the guys tried to be open with their
fans, but they needed their privacy too.
The fans could speculate all they wanted, but he’d always kept a part of
himself concealed from them. The Nick
Carter they knew, Nick the Backstreet Boy, was not the Nick Carter he was. Veronica hadn’t known him long enough to
really know him yet. Not the way Claire knew him.
Claire… There she was again, intruding into his
thoughts. He shook his head, trying to
force her back out. “So the writing… it
really helped you move on?”
“Absolutely.” Veronica studied him thoughtfully. “Have you tried writing yourself? I mean, writing song lyrics or anything? Songs are just poems set to music… and I know
you’re good at it. I have Now or Never.”
Nick smiled briefly, remembering how
proud he had been of his solo album.
That album and the tour that followed seemed like ages ago… practically
another lifetime away. He really had
been almost a completely different person then.
“Thanks,” he replied. “I dunno
though…”
He was thinking of the song he already
had written about Claire, “Live For You.”
One of the lyrics went, Through all the lies that I’ve been told,
you’re the only thing in my life that stayed true. That line had been true when
he’d written it. But it wasn’t
anymore. He didn’t think the song was
going to make the album because of it.
The guys said the song was beautiful, and the record execs had seemed to
like it, but Nick wasn’t ready to release the song. Just listening to the demo they’d recorded of
it was painful these days.
He’d played
around with the idea of writing another song about Claire… but he was a little
afraid of what might come out if he really went at it. All of his anger, all of his pain… though
justifiable, it seemed cruel to take it out on her through a song. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before, to
Mandy, or at least wanted to, to Leah, but despite how much she had hurt them,
Claire was a better person than Mandy or Leah.
She deserved better than that.
Maybe he wasn’t ready to immortalize her goodness in the song he’d
written while they were together, but he also couldn’t bring himself to trash
her in a song he wrote while the sting of their breakup was still strong. And right now, he wasn’t sure he could find
an in between.
“Why not?”
Veronica asked. “You’re so good at
it. We fans love the songs that are
written by you guys.”
“Thanks,”
Nick said again, with another fleeting smile.
“It’s just that… it’s so personal.”
“Well, it
could be a private song then. You would
never have to show it to anyone. Either
way, I bet it would help you, to get it all out there… and that’s all
that really matters.”
Nick
nodded; he could see what she was saying, but somehow he was still
skeptical. He wasn’t really a
writer. Sure, he’d tried his hand at
songwriting, and one of his proudest moments was seeing four of his own songs
added to the tracklisting of his first solo record. But he knew he wasn’t that world’s greatest
songwriter. It was hard work, writing
songs; he struggled enough to find the right words to say when he was just
answering questions in interviews or writing his thanks for the liner notes,
but trying to piece together words that expressed the point he was trying to
get across and went to music was incredibly difficult. Not that he didn’t enjoy the challenge, but
this… this was different somehow.
Veronica
must have noticed his hesitation because she added, “It doesn’t have to be a
song though. I’ve found that just
keeping a journal helps me. I write
about whatever I feel like, however I feel like writing it, and whether I ever
let anyone else read it or not, it helps me.
Don’t you ever do anything like that?”
Nick just
shrugged. “Nah, not really… I’ve always
sucked at keeping a journal. Too busy to
actually write in it regularly, ya know?”
“Sure,
that’s understandable. But you should
give it a try sometime. You don’t have
to write every day, just when you feel like it.
Maybe even just once, to get this stuff about… her… off your
chest.”
Nick felt
the corners of his mouth turn up; he wondered if she didn’t know Claire’s name
or was just choosing not to say it on purpose.
As if it were somehow cursed. Her
suggestion was a good one though. “I
might just do that,” he told her honestly.
“Thanks.”
Veronica
smiled. “No problem! I’m a good listener, in case you ever want
someone to talk to.”
She told
him the same thing again at the end of the night, when he took her back to her
apartment. “I know you’re going out of
the country in a few days,” she said, “but if you do need somebody to talk to
while you’re over there, you’ve got my number.
Don’t hesitate to call.”
Nick forced
a smile onto his face and tried not to let it waver. He knew she meant well, and she was sweet to
make the offer, but all he could think of when she said it was that Claire had
said almost the exact same thing…
(Give me a call if you want to talk.)
... in the
letter telling him she was leaving him.
In every heart, there is a room
A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wounds from lovers past
Until a new one comes along
I spoke to you in cautious tones
You answered me with no pretense
And still I feel I’ve said too much
My silence is my self-defense
And every time I’ve held a rose
It seems I only felt the thorns
And so it goes, and so it goes
And so will you soon I suppose
- “And So It Goes” by Billy Joel
***