Much of the rest of that day was spent on the phone. The Boys had been flooded with calls
following their TRL appearance. Management
was outraged that they had to find out the news through MTV, other artists were
calling with their sympathies, as well as the guys’ families… and then there
was Nick’s family.
Nick had been dreading the call from his parents that he knew would
come, and sure enough, it came shortly after they had left MTV studios. Sitting in silence in the back of a limo,
riding to their hotel, Nick’s cell phone rang.
Flipping it open, he sighed and answered it with a weary, “Hello?”
“Nicky!”
It was his mother, and naturally, she sounded distraught. It had been months since he had talked to
her, months since he had hung up on her, swearing to himself that he would
never speak to her again. She had not
called since, and he had not cared, not really.
And he could not really say whether he was glad she had called now or
not… in fact, he felt completely void of any emotion as he said quietly, “Hey,
Mom.”
“Nicky, please tell me this isn’t true… Angel saw you on TV, and
she called me in, and I… oh God, Nick, this can’t be happening.”
“It is.”
“Well, why didn’t you tell me then?!” In a flash, her tearful, plaintive
stammering had vanished, overtaken by hysterical screaming. “I’m your mother! Why didn’t you tell me?” She was sobbing now, and he could not tell if
she was really angry with him or not.
He did not answer, just listened guiltily to her heavy breathing
and muffled cries. He felt the urge to
comfort her somehow, but what could he say?
What could he do? He was on the
other side of the country. And he had
hurt her. It was his fault. He had caused this.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, but the words had no meaning.
“Nicky… your father and I… we’ll… we’ll come to Florida… I’ll take
care of you,” she said, her voice shaking with tears.
“No, don’t do that. I’m
fine. I don’t need taking care of. And anyway, I’ve got the guys.” That was not exactly true, but the thought of
having his mother fussing over him, breathing down his back 24/7, was
torturous.
“No… you need your mother!”
You’re not my mother.
The words formed in the back of his throat, but he swallowed them away,
refusing to let himself say them. He
would only hurt her more. And he could
not do that.
“Mom, you’ve got the other kids to take care of in LA. Stay there.
I’ll be fine. I’ll come out and
visit you sometime.”
“When?”
“I dunno, when I can. Look,
Mom, I gotta go now. Talk to you
later.” He heard her start to sputter a
protest, but he terminated the conversation and snapped the phone closed,
breaking off his ties with her, shutting her out of his life.
***
The next week was utter chaos.
After a few more days in New York together, the guys had gone their
separate ways again, promising to keep in touch and get together again later to
resume work on the album. When Nick
returned to Tampa, he found himself being harassed by paparazzi on a regular
basis. He declined interviews and
refused comments, not wanting to encourage anyone, but it didn’t seem to be
working. And when the press was not
calling, his family members were. Jane
called almost every day, but when he chose to answer the phone, their
conversations were always short and strained.
He discovered that the line “I’m tired; I think I’m gonna go take a nap”
was a great way to blow her off.
After over a week of staying cooped up in his house, hiding from
the media, Nick was forced to emerge. It
was time for his three-week check-up and the fourth round of chemo to
begin. Oh joy. He couldn’t have been more thrilled.
Luckily, the paparazzi had backed off a bit, for apparently his
cancer wasn’t such big news after a week and a half, so the journey to Tampa
General was fairly uneventful. For once,
Nick felt almost comfortable going up to the Oncology floor, not terrified that
he would be recognized. So what if he
was? The world knew now; it would be
perfectly acceptable for him to be seen there.
The waiting room in the oncology department was once again fairly
uncrowded, and Nick couldn’t help but wonder if it had been arranged that way
on purpose to save him from being bothered by a bunch of other people while he
waited. If it was, he had to admit he
was grateful.
Glancing briefly around the room before he took a seat, he noticed
Claire, the girl he had met twice before on the oncology floor, sitting on one
side of the room, engrossed in a copy of Redbook magazine. He crossed the room and sat down near her,
leaving one empty chair between them.
She looked up as he took a seat and smiled. “Hi, Nick.”
“Hey, Claire. Looks like
they’ve got us on the same schedule for doctor’s appointments.”
Claire laughed. “Yeah, I
begged my doctor to look up what time you were supposed to come for
appointments and schedule me for the same time.
I… I just can’t get enough of you.
I tried to get her to look up your address and phone number for me too,
but she wouldn’t. I’m sure I can find
out where you live though; I heard they give tours.”
Nick blinked, completely unnerved, and couldn’t help but shift to
the side of his chair farthest away from her.
Seeing the bewildered expression on his face, Claire immediately burst
out laughing. “Oh my God, relax, I’m
just kidding! I’m not a stalker. As far as I know, this scheduling thing is
pure coincidence. Or maybe,” she added,
smiling suggestively, “it’s fate.”
Nick was not quite sure what to make of that, so he just smiled
and expelled a weak, “Oh.”
Claire’s expression turned serious. “Sorry,” she said with an apologetic
smirk. “Didn’t mean to freak you
out. I was just messing with your
mind.” She shrugged. “Gave me something to do. If you haven’t noticed, this place is
extremely boring.”
Nick laughed. “I’ve
noticed.”
“Yeah, so anyway… I’m sorry.
I’m really not a stalker… in fact, I’m not even a fan, really. No offense or anything. I just like ‘N Sync a lot more.” Nick must have made some sort of disgusted
face at that comment, for she burst out laughing yet again and added, “Just
kidding. God, I can’t stand them. I’m not really into much pop though… I’m more
of a rock person. Sorry.”
“No, no, that’s cool!” Nick said, relieved. “I am too.”
Then, realizing that sounded sort of strange, considering he was a
Backstreet Boy, he added, “I just sing pop.
Go figure.”
“So, who’s your favorite rock band then?” Claire asked. “Sorry, I know your fans probably already
know this by heart, but, like I said, I’m not really a fan.” She smiled impishly, and Nick couldn’t help
but grin back.
“Probably Journey or Nirvana,” he replied. “You?”
“Oh, that’s cool. I like
both of those groups too, but I’m more into modern stuff lately. Linkin Park and other bands like that.”
“Oh yeah, Linkin Park’s great.
Their new album kicks ass, do you have that?”
“Oh yeah, bought it the day it came out. It’s awesome!”
Another pair of smiles were exchanged, but then, before the
conversation could continue, the door to the waiting room popped open, and a
nurse stepped in. “Claire? You can come on back now.”
“Oh yay,” Claire remarked dryly, rolling her eyes in Nick’s
direction. “Well, see ya later.”
“Yeah, see ya. Good luck.”
Claire smiled. “You
too.” And she followed the nurse back,
leaving Nick to himself. While he used
to enjoy his privacy and solitude, especially in awkward places such as this,
he now found he actually enjoyed her company.
She was not the type of girl he would normally even give the time of
day, but exchanging small talk with her as they both waited comforted him
somehow. Maybe it was because, despite
the fact that they barely knew each other and didn’t even really talk about it,
he knew they had something in common.
They shared the same curse, the curse of cancer.
***