BAD SHOW
"Nick?" Brian's voice was gentle through the bathroom door. "Nick, the show's starting in a few minutes, and make-up still needs to get you ready. Could you come out so we can get you wired and done up?"
I was laying on the floor. Victoria was rubbing my back. I'd been staring at the crack of light under the door. I could just see the soles of Brian's sneakers - the stupid huge white things that were way, way too big for his height.
"Please Nick," he called, sounding defeated. "We didn't mean to upset you, okay? Please. I - we - are sorry."
I looked away from the crack, not wanting to see his feet shifting.
"You should go," Victoria whispered.
I sighed and sat up.
She smiled, "There ya go."
When I opened the bathroom door, Brian was leaning against the wall beside it, a worried expression on his face. He gave me a once-over, as though making sure I was in one piece, and let out a sigh of relief. "Come on," he said sadly, "Make-up and wardrobe want you."
Victoria had disappeared somewhere between telling me to go and me actually going, and I followed Brian through the backstage to the dressing rooms, where very stressed looking stylists quickly patched me together to the best of their ability. No amount of powder and goop was going to get rid of the red rims around my eyes, though, and even after they were done I still looked like I'd been through a war without a helmet.
Crew got my battery pack and head set on my head, and adjusted the wires over my ears so they wouldn't fall out with my face-paced dance moves.
As the video started for the entrance to the stage, and we were making our way through the darkness to the back of the curtain we were about to burst through, I tried to summons Victoria to me, desperate for some help in staying calm. But she didn't come. I sighed, my heart kind of breaking a little bit by her absence, and followed the guys as we jumped onto the stage, the lights coming up and glaring at us as the fans let out loud, excited screeches.
I felt like I was falling apart at the seams through the entire show. Every note was killing me, draining me completely until I sank onto the stage props during More Than That and breathed deep, shaking breaths. The show, the fans – it was all a blur around me, like I was watching it in a hazy memory, somewhere outside of myself. I forgot choreography without Victoria there to guide me through as she’d done all week. I was delayed, missed entire lines. Brian picked up one full verse for me during one song, and we laughed off having to restart I Want It That Way, when I completely forgot to start singing.
I could see the fans in the front row watching me with scared eyes.
At the end of the show, when the last pyro popped and the end credits video was rolling up the screen, I dropped to my knees just off the stage. I was clearly not even out of the fan’s views yet, as I heard them gasp as I went down. Victoria, I thought, I need you…
Suddenly there were hands under my arms, pulling me up and that surge of strength at came from her filled me. “Come on,” she whispered, pulling me through the dark of the backstage area. “God you’re shaking like a leaf,” she whispered. She brought me to the dressing room and set me down in the director’s-style chair inside before kicking the door shut. “Nicky,” she whispered, her hand touching my cheek. “What happened?”
“I dunno,” I murmured. “It was … that was awful.”
The dressing room door banged opened and the three other guys poured into the room, all three of them looking concerned. “Are you on drugs?” AJ demanded.
“No,” I said honestly.
Howie looked from AJ to Brian. “Are you sick?”
“No,” I said again.
“Nick, we want you to get checked out,” Brian said. “What happened tonight was just… it’s crazy, Nick. Obviously something’s wrong, and we don’t want you to find out the hard way, when it’s too late, that you should’ve done something sooner.”
I looked at my feet. “But nothing is wrong. I don’t know why I can’t focus, I don’t know why.”
“That’s why there’s obviously something wrong, Nick,” AJ said pointedly.
“It wasn’t really that bad tonight, was it? I mean for the most part I did okay, right?”
“Nick, you sang like three times during the whole show!” Howie exclaimed.
Victoria was standing five feet to my right, watching as the conversation progressed. She was scowling.
“Nick,” Howie continued, “If you don’t buck up, we have to cancel the US portion of the tour, don’t you get that?”
I looked up, shocked. “Cancel the tour? Why?”
“Because we can’t have fans paying to come to see four Backstreet Boys perform and getting to see three, plus a zombie off to the side of the stage that used to be their favorite of the four. Let’s face it, Nick, if you aren’t you, they aren’t happy.”
“I’m not sick, though,” I argued. “What good is a doctor going to do me if there’s nothing wrong with me? It’s not like I’m puking or anything.”
Brian sighed, “We don’t want you to see a doctor-doctor, Nick,” he said slowly, “We want you to see a psychologist.”
I blinked at him in surprise. “You guys think I’m retarded or something,” I whispered.
AJ snorted, “Think?” but Brian elbowed him - hard - in the side. “Ow, dammit, what the fuck?” AJ whined.
Howie shook his head, “We aren’t saying you’re retarded, Nick, we’re saying there’s something going on and you need some help, that’s all. And if a psych is going to fix it… then why not try it, right?” He smiled cautiously.
“They’ll take me away from you…” Victoria whispered, horror struck in the corner, her palms to her cheeks, shaking her head. Her eyes were swimming with tears. “They’re trying to take me away from you!”
I felt her anger swell up inside me. I got up and stormed out of the dressing room door, slamming it behind me, and marching toward the back entrance where I knew our cars were waiting to take us to the after party at a club in the city. I’m not going to the party, I thought, bitterly. “Hey take me to the hotel,” I commanded the driver, and he tilted his head in recognition of the request and started off for the hotel.
“You can’t let them take me away,” begged Victoria, suddenly appearing at my side, “Please! If they take me away from you…” she looked at me, frightened, “I die without you, Nick. Your heart beat is my heart beat, your thoughts are my thoughts, your life is my life. Every part of us is entwined inseparably. Nick, if they take me away not only do I die, but part of you will, too.”
“They can’t take you away from me,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“They can, Nick,” Victoria said. “And if you let them, they will.”
Bad Romance by Pengi
