One Hot Fudge Sundae from Hell

I fiddled with the zipper of my sweatshirt which was a nervous habit I picked up from Kevin ages ago. I’m not sure if he even realizes he does stuff like that when he’s anxious about something. Sometimes it’s so slight that only the four of us can see him doing it. Most of the time he’s picking at the edge of his shirt or pulling on an imaginary thread of his sleeve, anything to keep his mind away from whatever was bothering him at the time.



Kevin did it, so now I do it to. I suck at doing it nonchalantly though. A friendly smack on the back made me realize that. I looked up and it was him of course, “Stop that, it’s distracting.”



This is when I want to say to him, “well I learned it from you,” but decide that it’s not worth the argument. Besides I have other things to worry about, which is why I’m fiddling with my zipper in the first place.



“Nick, I said stop. Jesus boy...what’s the matter?” He walked over to the mirror and placed his sunglasses on his eyes before flipping them up on top of his head, erm… his sunglasses, not his eyes. If he flipped his eyes on top of his head then he’d be the one with the bigger problem at the moment.



“Sorry, I’m just antsy I guess.”



He turned towards me and smiled, “Nick, you amaze me. How many times have we been on planes now?”



“A lot.” I answered, but it wasn’t the plane that scared me. It was the feeling I woke up with this morning. A few scoops of dread, mixed with fear and sprinkled with a delicious coating of anxiety….a Hot fudge sundae from hell if you will.



It doesn’t happen very often, these little anxiety attacks of mine, but when I get them there’s usually a good reason behind it. The last time I had one, the whole Paris thing happened. Need I say more?



“Beatles again?” I asked him pointing to his shirt. They say I wear the same thing over and over again, but I swear at this point I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that shirt walking around the hotel lobby without him. It was buying cigarettes and porno mags the other night or that could have been AJ. Sometimes I get them confused because they are roughly the same height, Kevin’s Beatles shirt and AJ.



Kevin hit me upside the head for no reason, “What the hell was that for?” I asked him.



“I don’t know, just felt like it. And yes, the Beatles… got a problem with that Carter?”



“No.”



“Good. So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”



“Nothing, it’s just one of those feelings.”



“Oh, go to the bathroom then.” Kevin thinks he’s hilarious.



“Haha, you’re a real riot. I’m being serious Kev. I think we should cancel our flight. Maybe go tomorrow instead.”



“Nick don’t be stupid.”



“I’m not being stupid.”



Kevin came over, pat me on the back and then shut the TV off, “Come on little man, let’s go home!”



Sure now he’s nice to me, first he hits me and calls me stupid, and then he’s nice.



“I’m telling you, something bad is going to happen.”



“At this point the only bad thing that could possibly happen is us missing our flight because of you and then having to listen to my cousin whine about it for hours on end. He misses his family, did you know that?” He rolled his eyes and I had to laugh. It wasn’t very often that Kevin mocked Brian. On the few occasions he did we all got a kick out of it and there was no mistake that this past mini press tour we were on, the two of them were getting on each other’s nerves. Seemed like all Brian did was complain about being away from his wife yada yada and blah blah blah. It got old, and for once Kevin felt it too.



The other three were doing one final interview for a local newspaper so they were set to meet us at the airport in an hour. I took my backpack and threw it over my shoulder. “Yes I know he misses his missus….but I’m telling you.”



“Enough Nick, now you’re annoying me.” He grabbed his own bag, the huge black one he has and took one final look around my room.



“You don’t have to do that you know.”



“Do what?”



“Check to see I left anything behind, I’m more than capable of…”



“Okay good, so I take it you meant to leave your wallet on the nightstand then?”



Oops.



“Yes, I was going to grab it in a second.” I lied.



He gave me his ‘look’ and smiled, “Let’s go buddy.”



I nodded at him; there was nothing else I could do. Maybe we’d be lucky and the van wouldn’t work or something.



~*~*~*~



The lobby was oddly quiet, not a single fan in sight which was a little strange. Of course when I want fans to swarm us and make us late for our flight, they are nowhere to be found. There was a man standing at the door in a gray shirt and jeans who watched the two of us leave. He grabbed Kevin’s hand and shook it and when I passed him he smirked at me. I didn’t trust him. That feeling of dread had returned. I wanted to turn around and head right back into the elevator. Screw the flight and Brian and his family. I mean it’s not like we were even all going to the same places, right? I could easily cancel my flight and wait. It’s a free country. I almost felt better as I problem solved, that’s exactly what I’d do.



“You know, I think I may cancel my flight and leave tomorrow, I mean it’s not like we’re all going to the same place or anything.” I said to Kevin as the man in gray opened the van doors for us.



“Do you ever look at the schedule?” The man took Kevin’s bag and then mine as we both stepped into the van.



“Why do you ask?”



“Because we all have a meet and greet with potential sponsors about two hours after we get back to the states.”



“Right, I knew that.” I didn’t really know that, I was just pretending…duh!



“Don’t you want to get home? I know I love Europe but I can’t wait to get back to the USA.” Kevin already made himself comfortable in the backseat, stretching his long legs out in front of him and laying his head in the crook between the seat and the window.



“Yeah, I guess.” I placed my hands in my jacket pocket this time, pulling on invisible strings to help calm me down.



The man in the gray shirt jumped into the front seat and once again shot me a small smirk from the rearview mirror as he adjusted it. I looked away and watched as the hotel faded from my view. “No going back now.” I thought to myself as I glanced at Kevin who already had his eyes closed.



Maybe our driver will get lost on the way to the airport and we’ll miss our flight, but then again I would feel horrible if Kevin and I escaped a plane crash but the other three didn’t. How was I going to convince them not to get onto the plane? I could have one of my good old fashioned temper tantrums. Those were fun back in the day. Sure I was a little old for them now, but if it saved us from getting on the plane, I was willing to go for it. I would risk being put in the tabloids as ‘Nick Carter, ex-boybander, who has a hissy fit at the airport.’ I’ll gladly take one for the team.



I looked at my watch, seeing that we were running a little late, “how far are we from the airport?” I asked the driver who didn’t answer me. He just looked at me through the mirror again, creepy.



“Okay…thanks for nothing.” I said under my breath before taking a cue from Kevin and finally stretching myself out on what was left of the backseat.



I closed my eyes as our drive towards the airport and my potential death continued onward. “I’m sure we won’t die…” I said to myself.



“What?” God, I said that out loud? My bad.



I opened my eyes and saw Kevin sitting up now fiddling with his sleeve. Why was he doing that? I sat up too. “Nothing, I was just talking to myself.”



“Hmm.” He was half listening to me as he stared intently at the back of our driver’s head. He looked anxious, I didn’t like that.



“What’s wrong?” I put my hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes. That was the only way I could get him to tell me when something was really bothering him. Howie said it was my blue eyes that put people into a trance, but Howie sometimes says very gay things like that and then spends the rest of his time trying to convince people he isn’t gay. Regardless; this always seemed to work for Kevin.



“We missed the exit for the airport.” He replied, moving his hands onto the driver’s headrest and pushing himself forward to tell our incredibly social driver the same thing he just told me.



No big surprise that the guy just looked at him in the mirror before turning his gaze back to the road. Something wasn’t right. “Kevin maybe you should call Johnny.” Better him than me.



“That’s a good idea.” He replied.



“Why didn’t Keith come with us?” I was now turning into the babbling boy, this happens when the nervous boy makes it to the next level. “He always drives with us, how come he didn’t this time?”



Kevin wasn’t listening to me. He was still searching for his phone. “Wasn’t he right behind us at the hotel? How come we drove away without a bodyguard?”



“I know I had it.” He said as he continued to look.



“You missed our exit.” I decided to randomly blurt out at the top of my lungs to our driver who didn’t seem to care all that much. He still didn’t say anything but he smiled. He was enjoying this.



“Kevin…I think we are in trouble.” And boy was that the understatement of the century.



“I know I didn’t leave my phone at the hotel! Damn it! If we go back to the hotel we’ll never make the flight!” He still wasn’t listening to me. He didn’t notice that we had pulled off the road.



“Uh Kevin!” I said once more, I pulled on his sleeve like a child this time.



“What?” He yelled at me, but quickly understood what my problem was as the man in the gray shirt was now facing us, aiming a gun directly at my chest.



A car pulled up from behind us, an old black thing, where two people got out with some more guns. “Kevin.” I said once more.



He didn’t answer, we both just kind of looked at each other as we were pulled from the van and placed into the black car.



We never did make our flight.