Nick stared at the scars that ran
along his right arm. They zigged and they zagged, standing out harshly, pale in
contrast to his tanned skin. They’d be a reminder till the memories finally went,
of the day his life crashed and burned before him. Or started to, anyway. He
got closer to the mike stand in the booth. His eyes closed as he let himself
just escape into the music.
It’s like I’m screaming now…
I can’t make a sound
And I don’t know how to move on…
Wish I could just go back
But I can’t do that…
His voice was soft and gentle,
soothing and haunting. The song was about lost love, but to Nick, it was about
losing himself. The self he wanted to be once more. Everything that felt like
slipping through his fingers, he yearned for them as he sang. He pulled away
from the mike for a moment when the music faded out. “How’s that?”
“Wow, that was downright depressing,
in a good way.”
Nick laughed, stepping out and
grinning at Mike. “Thanks? I think.”
“Always ready with the flattery for
ya.” The two had been recording together all morning. Nick had him flown out to
where he was yet again. It’d been three weeks since their last session in Ohio.
Now they were in Richmond, Virginia. Leighanne was due to join them in a couple
days. Leigh had already come by with James only a week before.
“I think it’s coming out good though,
my fave track yet. I should go back in, lay some more adlibs on and see how it
comes out.”
Mike glanced up at the clock on the
wall behind Nick. “Don’t you have a show tonight?”
He glanced at his watch and blinked.
An hour before sound check was supposed to go on. He felt like screaming.
“Shit! I gotta get going. Thanks!” How could he forget something important like
that?
“Later Nick!”
As he quickly headed out with a final
wave to his friend, he ran out to the road, where he hoped he could quickly
catch a cab. While Richmond was no New York City, he knew he could probably
find a cab without having to actually call for one. At least, so he hoped. The
fellas were going to kill him if he was late. Not to mention their manager, no
doubt about it. He wasn’t looking where he was going as he pulled out his
phone. Which Backstreet Boy to call first? Turned out, it was a question he
wouldn’t have to answer as the phone buzzed within his hand.
“Hello?”
“Nick where are you?!”
“I’m sorry Howie! I’m on my way. I
swear.”
“Sound check was supposed to start TEN
MINUTES AGO!”
“What?” Finally, he flagged down a
cab. “I thought it was in an hour.”
This shit can’t mess with my sense of time can it? Note to self:
Ask the next Doctor I see at the next tour stop. Because of his touring, Nick had sent Dr. Hansen his schedule. He
then faxed Nick’s files to the Doctors he’d be seeing on the road since Nick
refused to have a nurse or doctor tour with him. At some of the stops, Nick was forced to
sneak away for check up appointments every four weeks. They didn’t take long,
they were more for memory tests, checking upon the progression, and how he was
reacting to the medication. Still, it was just another lie to add to the pile
that continuously rose. Nick stared at
the cab when the driver honked to get his attention back to reality once again.
“Yo, can ya get in already big shot?”
He called out with a thick Brooklyn accent. Nick raised a brow as he got in.
Not something he expected seeing as he was down south.
“Why-” he shook his head. “Never mind,
Richmond Coliseum man, and step on it.” He went back to Howie who was still on
the cell phone, and now cursing at him angrily in Spanish, amusingly enough.
Those were mainly the words Nick knew, thanks to Howie.
“Look Howie…”
Now he’d come back to English. “You’ve
been so flaky and irresponsible; we can’t even rely on you anymore. Justin is
stalling the sound check cause you’re nowhere to be found. God knows where you
are…” And the Spanish cursing filtered in once more.
“Howie!”
“What Nick? What?”
Nick glanced out his window, taking in
the scene around him. That was the thing about Virginia, or anywhere along the
east coast or down south in general. He always felt like he went back in time
again, just from the trees and old feeling buildings he passed. “I’m on my way.
I’m sorry. I screwed up the time.”
“You’ve been screwing up a lot of
things lately.” And then the dial tone.
He kicked the empty passenger seat
above him. “Fuck.” Nick muttered angrily.
After the phone call from his
rightfully irritated band mate, the ride itself was uneventful. He stared out
the window, lost within the scenery around him. It really was quite beautiful
in Virginia, something he didn’t always appreciate given how quickly he always
traveled. The drive was shorter than
expected. He ran into the large stadium. It was a large, grayish brown circular
shaped building with an interesting design Nick always enjoyed when they
performed there. He ran through the performer’s entrance, away from the fans.
Luckily, security, at Howie’s request kept the area clear so Nick could get in.
Nick dialed Brian’s number as he raced down the halls.
“Nick? Where are you?”
“I’m…in…the building!” He panted, as
he continued to navigate his way through. “Tell Howie…so he doesn’t….kill me!”
A strained chuckle. “He might anyway.”
Sounds like you wanna help him there Bri. “I’ll be there…in….a…”He burst through a pair of double doors,
only to be met with the stares of Brian, AJ, and Howie, as well as half the
stage staff and their manager. “…minute.” He clicked his phone shut, giving a
sheepish grin. “Hi?”
Jen, who’d been their manager since
2007 during their underground days, was giving Nick what he still thought of as
the Kevin Death Stare. A talent few
had, and was still amazed she had since she became their manager after Kevin had
left the group. Her heel was tapping the floor irritably as Nick forced himself
to look humble.
“I’d lecture but I’m pretty sure if we
keep the fans waiting, they’ll kill security. So when you come back from sound
check, you and I need to talk Carter.”
She pushed him forward behind Brian.
They walked out upon the stage, where four stools awaited them, and a crowd of
fans could be seen sitting in the seats just before them. He ran a hand tiredly
through his hair, wishing yet again he didn’t keep forgetting to get it cut.
Despite everything however, it didn’t feel like he was going through the
motions when it came to the fans. Instead, the excitement that always came when
they screamed rushed through him yet again, giving him a new pick-me-up. He
grinned, hopping up on his stool so excitedly he almost fell over with it.
“Alright!” announced Justin, one of
the people who worked for the company that ran their fan club. “Now that Nick
has finally arrived…”
Nick smirked, speaking into the
microphone. “Damn that Backstreet time.”
The fans laughed, and Nick avoided the
narrowing of Howie’s eyes. AJ could be seen snickering beside him, nudging
Brian to say something to him in his ear. Brian. He missed their bond right
then, how close they were. He’d worked so hard to bring their friendship back
after he screwed it up during his alcoholic drug addict days. Now, everything
felt like it was going back to that, only without the oblivion drugs and
alcohol could help provide.
“Who has a question for Nick? We’ll
start with him, since he’s the tardy boy.”
Many girls raised their hands eagerly.
Most were within their late twenties and some early thirties. The teenagers who
were there looked to be daughters who’d become fans because of their mothers
that accompanied them. It felt odd, knowing his music was now touching upon new
generations of fans. Many who weren’t even born when their debut red album was
released or far too young to remember when Quit
Playing Games (With My Heart) dominated the pop charts when they finally
broke onto radio in America. Nick never imagined in his wildest dreams when
this all started that it would ever go this far. But so it had.
Too bad he was the only one who knew
that now was the beginning of the end.
“Nick?”
He blinked, giving a goofy grin he
knew the fans would expect of him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to space out that way.
Aliens abducted my brain for a second.”
AJ smirked at Nick. “For a second?
Don’t let him fool you ladies. They took his brain back in 1996. We’ve been
trying to get it back from them ever since.”
The crowd laughed along with Nick. He
wondered if they noticed Brian’s lack of wisecracks at him that would have
normally accompanied this. “Can you ask me again darling?”
The young girl swooned a bit at the
charm he let himself exude then. “I asked when you’re older and retired from
the music business-”
“Awwww!” The other girls interrupted.
“-What will you remember most about
being a Backstreet Boy? If you have children, what would you tell them about it
years from now?”
Nick froze, staring at her. It was an
innocent question, he knew. One that had depth and real meaning beyond all the
ones that still asked what kind of underwear he liked to wear. But in that one
moment, Nick could swear he could hear his heart shatter. Shatter upon the
floor into shards that would only make him bleed even more than he already felt
he was on the inside. He swallowed hard as he fought to keep his composure. But
how could he answer something he knew would never come to be?
“I ain’t sure…but I’m sure the fellas
here will tell them all sorts of stories that I won’t!” He joked, trying his
damnedest to look jovial as he said it. It was an honest answer, despite how he
made it come across.
While everyone else laughed, Nick
Carter simply fought to keep himself together.
****
“Completely irresponsible!”
“Jen, look I-”
“And it ain’t the only time this tour
either Carter! I don’t know what your deal is right now, but you need to get
your shit together. Like, yesterday.” She stormed off, her heels
clickety-clacketing down the hallway as she went. Nick punched the nearby wall,
wincing at the pain it caused. His hand now throbbed, but he was able to wiggle
his fingers at least.
Nothing broken this time, score one for Nick.
“Didn’t you learn from the last time
you punched something out of angry? The wall will win just like the window
did.” Brian asked as he approached him. Nick simply rolled his eyes in
response.
“What is going on?”
Nick shook his head, heading back to
their dressing rooms. They only had an hour and a half before show time and he
was hoping at a chance to snack before then. It was one of the few times he
felt hungry that day and wanted to jump on it before it went away again thanks
to the medication.
“Nothing.”
“Are you on drugs again?”
The accusation caused Nick to freeze;
turning slowly back to the man he called his best friend. “What?!”
Brian stared at him, his normally
friendly blue eyes stony, cold, and serious. “I mean it Nick. Are you on
drugs?”
Rage boiled beneath the surface.
Nick’s mind was slowly dying, and it was killing him not to tell the guys.
Something he was doing for their
good, rather than his own. He was doing his best to try and do everything right
before he, Nick was gone with only a
mindless shell to leave behind. And this was the thanks he was getting? Brian
accusing him of doing drugs again?
So much for my best friend having some fucking faith in me. “NO! I’m not on drugs Brian!”
“Well you’re acting weird, you’ve
gotten irresponsible, suddenly you’re having odd hyper highs…what are we
supposed to think?”
“You’re supposed to trust me!”
“You mean like the last time we tried
to trust you? When you almost killed yourself because we didn’t do anything?!
Where you got yourself heart problems, begged for them almost by doing this
shit?!” Brian yelled, his accent that had faded over the years coming in
clearer than ever the way it always did when he was upset.
Nick marched up to Brian; the two were
toe to toe as Nick stared down at him. Two pairs of blues met angrily in a way
that would give any observer chills from the intensity alone. “I’m not that guy
anymore. I’ve got shit I’m trying to deal with. That’s it. I’m fine. You can either trust me or drug
test me. Cause I don’t give a damn. I ain’t lying.”
Nick stepped back, walking away. He
kept his back to Brian, despite how much it hurt not to confess it all. He
couldn’t believe Brian thought that. How could he believe that when Nick worked
so hard to get himself together again over the years?
Alright sure the alcohol came back, but I had a handle on it.
Still do.
“Then why don’t you tell me what’s
going on Nick?” Brian called out after him.
Rather than responding, Nick simply
walked away. Truth be told, he had no idea how to answer him anymore. Right
then, he didn’t want to even if he did. At that moment, he felt Brian didn’t
deserve that right anymore.
***