Chapter 8
Kevin
shut off his cell phone, sighing loudly.
“Well, fellas, it looks like we have no choice. We have to perform at the
Superbowl. Backing out now really isn’t
an option.”
He
was repeating the words that management had just told him on the phone minutes
earlier. He had explained the situation
with Nick, and they were genuinely sorry and upset. But they had told him that there was no way
they could back out of singing at the Superbowl now. The Superbowl people would never be able to
get another act in time. He, Brian, AJ,
and Howie would have to sing it, even if Nick wasn’t there to sing with them.
Brian
sighed heavily as well, but he knew that no further arguing would change the
mind of their manager. In the music
industry, he knew sacrifices had to be made.
Even the worst ones. He
remembered nearly three years ago, when he had undergone heart surgery. Kevin, AJ, Howie, and Nick hadn’t even been
able to see him before the surgery because they had been at Disney World,
performing for Graduation Night. They
had protested that one too, but still, they had ended up there, singing with
only four out the five of them. And that
night, at the Superbowl, they would be doing the same.
“What
are we going to tell the fans?” Howie asked.
He was always the first to be thinking of the fans.
Kevin
sighed again. “That’s another thing
management brought up. They said we can
keep it quiet today and just announce that Nick’s sick tonight at the
game. But in a few days, if Nick hasn’t
gotten drastically better, we have to hold a press conference. We have to not only let everyone know, but
make it public that we’re canceling the concerts and all that stuff.
They
nodded. Kevin glanced at his watch. It was about three in the morning
already. They had been there for hours,
and he knew they were all exhausted.
“Guys,
we better get heading back to Bri’s now.
There’s nothing more we can do here, and if we still have to go to the
damn Superbowl, we’re gonna need to get some sleep. Our flight to Tampa’s at 11:00 in the morning,”
Kevin said.
The
guys didn’t protest, just nodded sleepily.
They all stood up and walked together down the hall.
***
Marissa
woke up screaming. She jerked upright
and sat in bed, sweat dripping between her shoulder blades, her face hot, her
breathing rapid and shallow.
A dream, she realized. Just a bad
dream. But, of course, the bad dream was based on
reality, on what had happened the night before.
Marissa
began to cry as the events of the past evening came flooding back to her. Just hours ago, she had been at a party,
having an awesome time. Now one of her
friends was dead, another was an emotional mess, her boyfriend was in jail, and
Nick Carter could be dead. She wasn’t
sure how bad his condition was or even if he was still alive. After Kevin had reamed her out in the
hospital waiting room, she hadn’t stuck around to find out. She had ran off to her mother in tears, and
Joyce had driven her home. There she
had gone straight to bed, hoping to forget the horrible tragedy that had just
occurred.
But I’ll never forget it, will I? Marissa asked herself, more tears
spilling from her eyes. She knew she
would never be able to get away from it, for it haunted her even in her
dreams. Whether she was awake or not, it
was always there, and she couldn’t run from it. What had happened, happened because of her
and her friends, and there was no changing that, no hiding it either. There was nothing she could do about. It would be there, in the back of her mind,
for the rest of her entire life.
***
Brian
dreamed about it too. He had nightmares
all night, all involving Nick lying in that bed, hooked up to all those
machines. When he awoke in the morning,
he realized he had barely slept at all with the horrible dreams that
interrupted his sleep all night long.
Brian
sleepily rolled over to look at the clock beside his bed. It was not even eight. He had had only about four hours of
sleep. Less, actually, because of the
nightmares.
Brian
knew there was no way he could go back to bed however, so he pulled himself
up. Leighanne was already up, he realized,
noticing her side of the bed was empty.
He
staggered into the bathroom and glanced at himself in the mirror over the
sink. “I look like shit,” he muttered
aloud, as he studied his reflection. His
wavy hair was sticking all over the place.
His blue eyes were dull and red-rimmed, and beneath them were dark
circles.
He
combed his hair, trying his best to tame it, and splashed cold water over his
face. He then wandered downstairs in his
flannel pajama bottoms and t-shirt.
He
entered the kitchen to find Leighanne at the stove, flipping pancakes. Howie was pouring glasses of orange juice
while Kevin and AJ slouched at the table.
AJ stared moodily into space, while Kevin glanced half-heartedly at the
Sunday paper.
“Morning,
everyone,” Brian said, forcing a smile of fake cheeriness.
“Morning,”
the guys mumbled back.
“Morning,
sweetie,” Leighanne said, smiling sympathetically at him as she noticed his
bloodshot eyes and the dark bags under them.
“Breakfast is almost ready.”
Minutes
later, she was serving up the pancakes, while Howie passed around glasses of
juice. None of them ate much, only
picked at the food. Kevin didn’t take
his eyes off the paper, not wanting to make eye contact with one of the guys
for fear he would lose it. He had barely
slept that night either, for he, too, was kept up with worry over his youngest
bandmate.
Suddenly,
he gasped. “What?” the guys all asked,
looking up in alarm.
“There’s
an article about it,” he said softly. He
passed the paper to Howie and pointed to a headline. “Local Teen Killed in Drunk Driving Wreck”,
it read. Howie read the article, and
sighed with relief when it came to a part about Nick and didn’t mention his
name, referring to him as “a twenty year old Florida man”. He was glad, not wanting the fans to find out
about Nick this way. When he was
finished, he sadly passed the paper on to Brian. “It’s so sad,” he murmured. “That kid that died was just eighteen, only a
senior in high school.”
“Yeah,
too young to be drinking,” Kevin snapped.
“And Nicky’s only twenty. He’s
too young to have to go through this too.”
“Twenty
one,” Brian corrected softly.
They
exchanged sad glances and nodded slowly.
“Some birthday present,” AJ said bitterly.
The
other three ignored his comment and went back to picking at their pancakes.
***