Chapter 137
So now here I am
Taking this chance
Ready for all the world to see
Cause it's all up to me
As long as I'll be
Free from within
- “Free From
Within” by Howie Dorough
“Did I already tell you how much I love
your dress, Claire? It’s so
pretty.” Leighanne Littrell smiled
kindly.
“Thanks,” said Claire, smiling
back. “I love yours too.”
“Thank you,” Leighanne replied,
smoothing her hands over her own dress, a sophisticatedly simple black
ensemble. Nick frowned, pulling at the
collar of his shirt and blaming his discomfort on her. It was Leighanne who had decided to dress up
for the VMA’s first, so of course Brian had decided to wear a suit, and then
Nick had bought Claire that dress, which meant, just like AJ had warned, that
he, too, would need to dress up. Brian
and Nick were the only ones in suits, but the other three guys looked nice as
well, dressed in shades of complimentary black and gray. These were the clothes they would be
performing in later that night; they had decided that flashy stage clothes were
not needed for their performance, which was meant to be low-key and intimate,
even in Radio City Music Hall.
Kevin’s wife Kristin looked more casual
– and comfortable – in a flowing pair of gray pants and a black top. She sat beside Kevin in the back of the fancy
limo that was shuttling them through the packed streets of New York City, but
made small talk with Leighanne and Claire.
Claire had just met the two older women the day before, when they had
flown in, but Nick thought they all seemed to be getting along pretty well.
“She’s darling, Nick,” Leighanne had
said of Claire shortly after meeting her.
“Make sure you hang on to her, okay?
She’s a keeper.” She had smiled;
Nick had scowled. He liked Brian’s wife
all right, but the last thing he wanted was advice on his love life from
her. He could pick out women for
himself, thank you very much. (Even
though he had to admit, he hadn’t done a very good job of it so far in life.)
It was now Kristin who was admiring the
dress he had bought for Claire, ooh-ing and aah-ing over the beadwork on its
bodice.
“I think it looks like a sun,” Nick
spoke up. “You know, like the rays of
the sun?”
“Yeah, it does,” Kristin nodded.
Grinning cheekily, Brian chimed in with
the chorus of “You Are My Sunshine.” “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” he sang. “You make me happy when skies are gray… You’ll never know, dear, how much I love
you… Please don’t take my sunshine
away...* What?” he stopped, when the
guys began snickering. “Just warming up
my voice!”
“Remind me never to get married,” AJ
groaned. “It makes you even cheesier
than before.”
“Nah, that’s just how Bri is,” cracked
Howie, and they both laughed at Brian’s expense.
“Oh, y’all are just jealous cause
you’re too pathetic to get dates to this thing,” said Nick with a smirk.
“Riiiiight. Didja hear that, D? The ‘Ladies Man’ over there thinks we’re
jealous.” AJ rolled his eyes.
The banter kept up all the way to Radio
City, which was quite a good thing, for it helped to alleviate Nick’s nervousness. Unfortunately, the butterflies came back into
his stomach in full force once he and the guys were backstage, and Claire was
gone. Everyone had decided it would be
okay for Claire to sit in the audience, since no one would know who she was or
who she had come with. Kristin and
Leighanne, on the other hand, had to hide out backstage until it was time for
the performance, since they faced the risk of being recognized and revealing
the fact that the Backstreet Boys were there that night. Seven seats near the back of the house were
being saved for them, for after the performance, the Boys and the wives would
join Claire to watch the rest of the show.
Although surprise performances were
often saved for the end of the show, the Boys were going to come out in the
first half, which saved them from making pre-recorded acceptance speeches for
all the categories they were nominated in, on the off chance they won. If they won a VMA, they wanted to be there,
at the podium, to accept the award and say their thanks.
The show began, while the Boys remained
in a secluded area backstage, hidden away from the various performers,
presenters, and winners who came and went.
They went through a few vocal warm-ups, and then it was just a matter of
waiting for their time to come. It was
this waiting that was the hardest part.
Nick tried to keep himself calm, taking slow, deep breaths, trying to
clear his head, which was swarming with worst-case scenarios. What if he tripped and fell onstage? What if his voice shook or went flat? What if he forgot the words to the
songs? What if no one liked the
performance; what if they were booed instead of cheered? The “what if’s” were driving him crazy; he
just wanted to get on with it.
“Nick, it’s time to go; Carson’s about to
go out there to introduce us,” Kevin’s voice interfered with the chain of
unpleasant thoughts that rattled incessantly through Nick’s mind. “You ready?”
Panic seized Nick’s heart with icy
fingers. Maybe he didn’t want to just
get on with it after all. Weakly, he
looked up at Kevin. “I-I don’t know if I
can do this,” he mumbled. “I… what
if…” Swallowing hard, he let the
sentence finish open-ended and closed his mouth tightly, slightly afraid he was
going to throw up from nerves.
“Yes you can,” Kevin said firmly, but
kindly. “Don’t think about the crowd;
don’t think about the ‘what if’s’. Just
focus on the music, okay? Because that’s
what matters.”
Nick nodded and flashed Kevin a
strained, tight-lipped smile, wondering if he would ever be able to get a note
out once he was onstage. He stood up
slowly, his knee quivering beneath him.
Sucking in a deep breath, he straightened and got his balance, marveling
at how nervous he was. He almost always
got some butterflies before a show, even after spending nearly half his life
performing as a Backstreet Boy, but it had been a long time since he had been
this terrified. Where was the
professional, the young man who was hardly phased by arenas jam-packed with people? Where was the Backstreet Boy who knew exactly
what he had to do to make the girls scream - a smile here, a pelvic thrust
there, and an ass-shake every once in awhile.
He’s
gone, Nick thought. I’m not the same. I never will be.
Things would be different tonight. Tonight, when he went out on that stage, it
would be as himself, as the new and changed Nick Carter. He would be exposed, no curtain of
crowd-pleasing gestures to hide behind.
All he had now was his voice. But
according to Kevin, that was all that mattered.
We’ll
see if that’s the case, thought Nick. He followed Kevin and the others out of their
private dressing room, which had been tucked away in the far reaches of the
backstage area, and congregated alongside them off to one side of the stage, as
they waited for their cue. Meanwhile, a
barely-dressed Britney Spears stood at the podium, cooing sickeningly fake
thank-you’s to her family and fans as she accepted the award she had just won. When she had finally carried her moon man
trophy offstage, Carson Daly was introduced.
Hidden behind the thick curtains of the stage, Nick watched as Carson
came to stand behind the podium. A hush
fell over the crowd as he began to speak of a group who had been a part of MTV
for the past seven years – newsmakers, TRL regulars, VMA winners, and this
year, VMA nominees. As he continued his
spiel, going on about how this particular group had been struck down by tragedy
and hardship time and time again and yet always managed to bounce back, Nick
could almost feel the tension growing in the packed music hall. What group was he talking about? Could it be…?
Was it…?
“Making their first public appearance
and performance in seven months, we are proud to have with us tonight… the
Backstreet Boys.”
A roar swept through the massive hall,
as a panel of thick curtains parted to reveal five stools sitting in a row on
stage, and AJ, Kevin, Brian, Howie, and finally, Nick, appeared. Individual screams rose shrilly above the
cheers of the audience, piercing Nick’s ears, yet bringing a smile to his
face. The girls were still screaming for
them. It was a good sign.
Slightly flustered, yet elated at the
same time, Nick crossed the stage with his bandmates, head held high. He exhaled in relief when he reached his
stool at the end of the line and boosted himself up onto it. He tilted the microphone on its stand and
glanced down the line at the four others.
They were ready. He took a deep
breath, and then he heard their music began to play. The audience quieted immediately, and Brian launched
into the opening of the song, which had been the first single off the latest
album. Tapping his hand lightly against
his thigh in rhythm with the song, Nick gazed out into the house. With the blindingly bright spotlights beaming
down on him, he couldn’t see past the first few rows. But somewhere out there, he knew, was Claire,
watching them perform live for the first time.
With a rush of pride and a desire to
impress, he joined the others in singing the chorus. As soon as the first few notes had left his
mouth, he was there, back in his zone.
No longer was he nervous and uncomfortable in front of all these
people. Instead, he was at home, back
where he belonged and doing what he had been made to do. He was an artist, after all. The stage was his canvas, and his voice was
his brush, painting a beautiful harmony that filled the room, spattering the
awed audience with perfect notes.
High-pitched screams rose as they
transitioned into “I Want It That Way.”
Nick smiled, savoring the familiar sound, and glanced down the line at
Brian as he began his solo, his eyes closed, pointing up with one finger. Classic Brian pose. Nick’s solo loomed, and he took a deep
breath, preparing for it. His moment had
come. Filling his lungs with air once
more, he opened his mouth and let the notes flow. “But we
are two worlds apart, can’t reach to your heart, believe when I say, I want it
that way…”
“Tell
me why…”
“I Want it That Way” was a song they
had performed countless times, a song they often got sick of singing. But that night, at that moment, the song bore
new life. Singing the familiar melody,
hardly aware of the crowd down in the pit singing along, Nick was able to
forget his nervousness and self-consciousness and just be himself, the same old
Nick the fans loved, the Nick who loved to be the center of attention, who
loved to sing and perform and make the girls scream.
And scream they did, as AJ sang the
final notes of the song. The Boys slid
off of their stools and joined hands, bowing once amid loud cheering. Squinting out into the house, Nick was
surprised to see that the people in the first few rows of seats were
standing. He would later find out that
most of the audience – celebrities and fans alike – were on their feet,
applauding them in reverence. The
Backstreet Boys, who had been mocked, ridiculed, and scoffed at for their
entire career, had received a standing ovation.
Backstage, they were immediately
bombarded by people, mostly from the media, wanting pictures and interviews,
demanding to know how they and MTV had pulled off such a surprise. They posed for a few pictures and said a few
words, then were escorted away by security.
As the live telecast of the awards cut to a commercial break, they were
taken to their reserved seats in the music hall, where Claire had been sitting,
along with Leighanne and Kristin, who’d been allowed to sneak in right before
their performance.
The two older women swooped down on
Nick immediately, practically smothering him with their tight hugs before they
moved on to their respective husbands, leaving Claire standing there in the row
of seats. She smiled when she caught
Nick’s eye and came forward to meet him.
“Did we make a fan of you yet?” he
asked with a wink.
She just smiled, her eyes shining, and
wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tenderly. “You looked great up there,” she whispered,
as the others filed into the row of seats and sat down, leaving Nick the aisle
seat and Claire the one next to it.
“Everyone loved you,” she went on, as she and Nick sunk down into their
seats. “They all stood up, even back
here, in the ‘celebrity section’.” She
glanced around quickly and then leaned close to Nick, whispering in a low
voice, “I think P. Diddy and his posse are sitting behind us.”
Nick tried to discreetly look over his
shoulder, and sure enough, sitting one row back and a few seats over was Sean
“Puffy/Puff Daddy/P. Diddy” Combs. He
turned back, not at all starstruck, for he had met the rapper several times
before, even been interviewed by him on TRL once. “Yeah, that’s him,” he started to whisper
back to Claire, but was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. Twisting around in his seat once again, he
saw that P. Diddy had reached out to get his attention.
“Hey dawg, good job up there. You got balls, man, for gettin’ up there and
performing, you know what I’m sayin’?
Props to y’all.”
Nick smiled. “Thanks, dawg,” he replied, genuinely touched
by this compliment. Then he turned back
around to watch the rest of the show. The
Backstreet Boys had been nominated for Best Group Video, Best Pop Video, and
Viewer’s Choice, and as the show neared the end, they were 0 for 3. This was nothing new, but as the presenters
for the Viewer’s Choice came out, Nick couldn’t help but think it would be cool
if they won. Competition was steep
though, and there was no denying the fact that the group was simply not as
popular as they had been in 1999, the last year they had won the Viewer’s
Choice award. The list of nominees was
read off, and then, moments later, he heard the words. “And the winner is… Backstreet Boys!”
Claire drew in a sharp breath beside
him and looked over at him, her eyes dancing with excitement. Stunned, he glanced past her and saw the
others rising from their seats. So he
hadn’t been hearing things – they had won.
Their fans had come through, voting for them over any of the other big
names that had been nominated. A smile
spread across his face as his heart swelled with pride and appreciation for
those wonderful fans, who had proven their devotion by never wavering in their
support for him. No longer nervous, no
longer afraid of reactions and stares, he stood and led the way down the long
aisle to the stage. He climbed slowly
and steadily up the steps that led onstage and made his way over to the podium,
where he was surrounded by Brian, Kevin, Howie, and AJ. They all gathered around the podium, but it
was Nick who was handed the silver moon man trophy, Nick who stood at the
microphone, and Nick who was allowed to speak first.
Looking out into the expectant faces of
the audience, Nick suddenly wished he’d had the sense to write out some kind of
acceptance speech, or at least a list of people to thank. But he hadn’t prepared at all, and the words
that came out of his mouth were straight from the heart. “Um… w-wow,” he stammered, “this was
definitely unexpected! Thanks,
y’all!” He paused and cleared his
throat, getting his bearings, and then continued quickly, “Um, I’m gonna try to
keep this short, but for once, I do have a lot to say and a lot of people to
thank, and who knows when I’ll have another chance. So I gotta start out by thanking God, who has
dealt me some rough blows, but at the same time, has given me the strength to
overcome them. Also, um… Dr. K, you’re
probably not even watching this, but if you are, thank you. I-I don’t know if I’d even be here right now
without you. Susan – ditto. And, uh – just a few more here – uh… ‘Ren,’
my, uh… my little ‘sunshine’… thank you, baby.”
He could feel his cheeks heating up and smiled crookedly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. And to my four big brothers… Kev, Bri, Howie,
and J – thank you for being at my side through everything and helping me get
through the past few months. And last
but definitely not least, to the fans, for sticking with us and keeping the
Backstreet Pride alive. You guys are
still showin’ us the love – we wouldn’t be up here right now if it weren’t for
you. Thank you so much for your support
and your prayers and for giving me the courage to get up here tonight. We love you.”
He stepped back to let the others have
a turn, but as soon as AJ got to the mic, all he said was, “I think Nick pretty
much said it all for us. Thanks to God,
our families and friends, and the fans.
We love you all; peace out.”
As the chorus of their song played, and
the telecast cut to another commercial break, the group left the stage. Nick was in the lead once again, proudly
carrying the moon man, his mouth smiling and his eyes sparkling as brightly as
the silver beads on Claire’s dress. In
the pictures snapped backstage immediately after, he practically shone with
happiness, or radiance even, like the sun.
Whatever you called it, there was a certain aura that surrounded him
that night, something that had not been present in a long, long time.
It was late at night, and outside, the
sky was black above the lights of the city.
But in Nick’s life, it seemed as if the sun had just risen, and a new
day had dawned. And it was glorious.
***
*Lyrics
taken from “You Are My Sunshine” by Jimmie Davis