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Chapter Two


Nick was like a broken record as he led the way down the aisle in the plane to our seats. "I'm sorry, sorry. Merci. Merci. Pardon. Merci. Sorry." He glanced back at me, almost taking out an irritated looking older woman's face with his bag, "It's a good thing I started studying French, huh?" he asked, then he turned forward, almost hit the woman again, and continued onward.

"Sorry," I apologized to the woman for him before scampering along after him. "Nick, maybe you should carry your backpack," I suggested.

"What?" he started to turn around again, but I caught the bag and made him stay facing forward.

We reached out seats and Nick shrugged the bag off his shoulders. He didn't seem to understand he'd just assaulted all but three rows of the plane with his bag and then said thank you to them in French. He started struggling to shove the bag in the overhead compartment. I reached my arms up with my duffle bag, but Nick quickly snatched it away. "Watch out, short stack," he said, shoving it in, "I'll get that for you."

"You know it wasn't that long ago that you were shorter than me, kid," I said, eyeballing him as he manuvered the bag into the compartment.

"Yeah, but you'll never be taller than me again so you better get used to it," he said with a grin. Satisfied with the bags, he scrabbled into his seat, the middle of a row of three. A business man sat in the far seat against the window, checking his watch, and glancing over at Nick as though he was hoping maybe one of the two of them had gotten the wrong seating assignment. I felt kinda bad for the guy. "Hey," Nick said, thrusting his hand in the guy's direction as I sat on the aisle seat of our row, "I'm Nick Carter. I'm a Backstreet Boy."

The guy stared at Nick for a long moment, finally he answered, "Bonjour."

Nick whipped to look at me. "See it's really good I've been practicing my French." He turned back to the guy. "Jayyy sooooz Nick Carter. Jayyyy sooooz es Backstreet Boys."

The guy looked at him like he was retarded.

"Nick, I don't think you're pronouncing it right," I said.

"No I am, he's just dumb." Nick turned to face forward.

"Desole," I apologized. I'm sure I didn't pronounce it very well either. "No Francois." The businessman nodded and turned away, evidently relieved.

Nick was looking around the plane. "Do you see the fellas?" he asked. He squinted.

"AJ's by the emergency door," I said.

"HI AJ!" Nick yelled, standing up and waving. About fifteen people turned around with disapproving looks at Nick, who blushed and sat back into his seat. "I shouldn't yell on a plane, huh?"

"What gave you the clue?" I asked.

Our producer, Lou Pearlman, came huffing down the aisle between the seats and stopped beside us as he unloaded his carry on bag and put it into the overhead. "Are you in trouble already, Nick?" he asked, lowering into the seat across the aisle from me.

Nick contemplated a moment, "Define trouble?"

Lou was a big guy. He reminded me a little of my grandfather in the sense that he was loud and opinionated. He was the reason that we were a band, though. It was through his efforts that Howie, AJ, and Nick had started auditioning together. We were really cose to him, even called him the sixth Backstreet Boy. He had a heart of gold towards us, always giving us everything we could need and taking care of us. There was this one time in '93, when Kevin, Howie and I were living together that Lou had loaned us the money to pay our rent for three months because we were working so hard trying to get Backstreet Boys off the ground that we didn't have time to work many hours at our part time jobs. We'd barely gotten by with food those months, but Lou had been there for us 100% of the way, helping out and making sure that we had what we needed. He was like a father to us all.

"Remember that time Air Ireland kindly asked us not to fly the friendly skies with them again?" Lou asked.

Nick had been especially rambunctious on the flight Lou was referring to. He and AJ had somehow snuck a canteen filled with alcohol onto the plane - I have no idea how they'd done it, but they'd managed none the less - and it had led to a fiasco of epic proportions when Nick stupidly mixed it with an anti-nausea medication he'd taken prior to boarding the flight. It'd been a bit of a nightmare. But Nick grinned, "Yeah."

"That's trouble," Lou answered.

Nick laughed and sat back, "I won't get in trouble Big Poppa," he replied. He yanked the in flight menu out of the pocket in the back of the seat in front of him and started studying it. "What's the drinking age in Canada?" he asked.

The businessman looked over. Evidently he understood enough English that he was petrified at the idea of Nick having a drink and losing more inhibitions.

"I think it's eighteen in Quebec," I answered. "Maybe nineteen. Some parts it's nineteen."

"Damn I'm missing it by one month," Nick said. The businessman looked relieved.

"Even if, you wouldn't want to be drinking anyway. We just agreed you aren't getting into trouble." Lou butt in. Nick grinned yet again, but not looking at all innocent, which I can only assume is the look he was going for. "Besides, you're gonna be busy right off the plane." Nick frowned, and returned to flipping through the menu.

"You might wanna tell AJ that," I told Lou. Even from across the plane, I could see that AJ was already browsing the in flight menu as well. I had a feeling that he'd just asked Howie, who was sitting next to him, the exact same question Nick had just asked me, because Howie had that look on his face like he was scolding AJ for asking about drinking when he was already drunk.

"Oh trust me, I did," Lou nodded. He, too, pulled out his in flight menu, and I turned to watch the rest of the passangers board the plane.

I wasn't looking forward to the flight. I'm not a big fan of flying, and I was already tired. I leaned back in my seat and took a deep breath. I wasn't sure exactly why I was as tired as I was. After all, it's not like I'd done a whole lot since I'd gotten back from Christmas in Kentucky. It was probably the yearly after-the-holidays relief that had me feeling lazy. It'd been a crazy week back home in Lexington, and I was exhausted. But I only had one day in Orlando before we were leaving again today, so I'd spent the day with Leighanne. We had gotten together the day before and gone out for lunch and a movie. I really hated leaving Leighanne again after only having gotten such a brief time with her as that. We'd only just gotten back from the last tour, and filmed the Walt Disney Magical World of Christmas on the 22nd, when I'd left to go to Kentucky for Christmas on the 23rd, and Leighanne had plans with her folks in Georgia so she couldn't come to Lexington, even though my mom had offered her to come along.

My parents still had yet to meet her, even though we'd been going out for six months. This was a great thorn in my mother's side, who was used to already knowing every girl I dated because she knew everyone in Lexington it seemed like. Knowing her "Baby Duck" (the name my mom called me) was dating a woman she'd never met had her really on edge. I'd tried a couple times to get some time off to bring Leighanne home to my mom, but it seemed like every time I did something came up with the band and I had to cancel the travel plans.

"If I didn't know any better, Brian Littrell," my mother had scolded me the last time I'd cancelled the plans on her, "I'd think you were trying to hide this girl from us for some reason."

"Not at all, Ma," I'd answered, "I'm just busy is all. We got asked to film this thing for New Years Eve in Spain."

"Nobody's this busy Brian," my mom had replied. "And New Years Eve isn't for weeks, why are you filming now?"

"Because we'll be in Canada over New Years, Ma. So we gotta film it now for then, see?"

My mother had sighed, "You're working too hard, my Baby Duck. Working way too hard."

But I just don't think she understood the difference between laid-back country life in Kentucky and the fast paced life that I now inhabited as a Backstreet Boy. It was completely different worlds. I'd gone from small town life where I sang in the choir once a week and everybody knew everybody else's name to this crazy world where everyone knew my name because I was famous and always on the go somewhere for some appearance. I couldn't even attempt to keep count of every TV show, radio station, or magazine that we'd visited and been interviewed by. When I first started, my mom was collecting the magazines our pictures were in and before long she'd quit because she'd filled like five huge crates with magazines and would probably have gone bankrupt if she'd kept it up.

The flight attendants started prepping for take off, closing all the overhead compartments and making everyone sit the seats in their full upright position and all that. I could feel my stomach getting queasy already. Nick put away the inflight menu and pulled out his barf bag and thrust it into my hands. I nodded my thanks, not daring to open my mouth. I closed my eyes. The flight attendant checked our seatbelts on her way by, and I heard the pilot droning on the overhead. Nick poked me, "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I answered, "Yes." I glanced Nick's direction. "I'm allllrighty," I added in my best Jim Carrey voice, flashing Nick a huge grin.

He laughed, "Okay, whatever dude. You looked sick."

"Nope."

The plane lurched as it started to taxi down the runway, picking up speed, pausing to let other planes pass or take off, and finally reached the actual ascent itself. The plane jostled and lurched as it took up speed to actually get off the ground and then there was that moment of weightless pull when it launched, and my stomach was left behind as we lifted higher and higher, its wing dipping... I squeezed my eyes shut, my mind reciting my mantra I'm not gonna die on a plane in my head, and I held my barf bag tightly in my hand.

"Still okay?" Nick asked.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Good, gimme that, then." Nick grabbed for the barf bag and started heaving into it. I covered my mouth to keep from joining him at the sound and smell of the sick.

"Aren't you two a pair," commented Lou.

"Oh crap," Nick muttered, pulling the bag away from his mouth. "I dont understand it. I like rolled coasters." He looked at me pitifully.

"So two blondes are driving to Six Flags," I stammered the joke out, "And they see this sign right? and the sign says Six Flags, Left. So one blonde turns to the other blonde --"

"Dude I'm blonde," Nick said.

"Yeah but it's funny, listen --" I interrupted, "So the blonde, she turns to the second blonde, right? and she says --"

"This is like telling a racist joke to a black guy, Frick," Nick complained.

"No it's not, listen to it." I tried a third time, "So she says to the second blonde, 'the park left, let's go home.'"

Nick stared at me for a long moment. "I don't get it," he said.

I sighed, "Nevermind."

"No, dude, I don't get it," Nick whined.

"Maybe it's because you interrupted me that you don't get it?" I suggested.

Nick scowled, clutching his puke-filled barf bag. "No c'mon, you gotta explain it, I don't get it."

"Because the park left, they went home," I said slowly.

Nick rolled his eyes, "That's a stupid joke."

"Did you get it?"

He hesitated slightly before saying that he did, which meant that he didn't, but I let it go because it didn't really matter if he did or not and I was tired. Arguing with Nick was exhausting. Maybe, I thought to myself, that's why I was so tired all the time lately.

"I'm gonna get some sleep," I told him.

Nick sighed, "Well what am I supposed to do then?"

"Sleep, too?" I suggested.

He sighed again.

"Didn't you pack like every video game known to man?" I asked.

"Oh yeah. Watch out." Nick proceeded to unbuckle and attempt to climb over me. In the process he almost kneed me and elbowed the woman in front of me in the head. "Merci," he muttered.

I slid into his seat while he was standing up. "Here, take the aisle, then you can get up and down without bothering anyone," I suggested as the lady in front of us glowered at him before turning around. The businessman was staring at us.

"But I don't like the aisle seat," Nick whined. He touched his elbow, "The carts..."

Lou looked over from his newspaper, "Just sit."

Nick was fighting to get his backpack out of the compartment, so he didn't reply but I knew if Lou was on my side of the argument that I'd officially won, so I leaned back into the seat, reclined just a little, and closed my eyes, drawing a deep breath. I could hear my heart beating, but only a little irregularly, so I didn't worry about it. And soon enough, I'd fallen asleep.

I dreamed about Leighanne living in a giant pink dream house and Nick laughing because she drove a pink Corvette.

It felt like minutes instead of hours when Nick shook me awake to get me to put my seat into the full upright position for landing. The flight attendant gave me an apologetic look the way she might give a child she'd had to wake up for the same reason. "You slept through like the whole flight," Nick complained, "I was so bored." He was frowning as I stretched my shoulders as best I could without protruding into anyone else's space. "Plus you snore."

The plane landed without a hitch and we unloaded our carry on bags and shuffled out of the plane like a herd of sheep. Everyone managed to duck out of the way of his backpack this time, conditioned like Pavlove's dogs, it seemed. AJ fell into stride next to me as we entered the terminal. "Good flight?" he asked. He must've gotten some sleep on the flight, too.

"I slept through it," I answered.

"Me, too," AJ said. "Didj'a see that one flight attendant though? Jeeee-sus she was a babe."

Nick whipped around, "The one with the hair?" he waved his hands around his head to indicate a pouffy hair style.

"Yeah. Shit, she was hot," AJ nodded.

"What about Mystery Woman?" Howie asked, overhearing from a couple paces back.

AJ shrugged. "I can look if I don't touch," he answered as we all stopped and waited for everyone else. Lou checked his watch and stretched. Nick busied himself looking through his backpack. We stood there in silence for a few minutes before AJ broke the silence. "Any of you putzes in the Mile High Club?" he asked.

Nick looked up from his backpack.

I could feel my face getting hot. Leighanne and I had snuck into the bathroom last time we'd flown and it'd gotten a little steamy. It wasn't quite Mile High Club material but... it was close.

"Brian you're such a dog," Howie laughed, and clapped me on the back.

"No fuckin' way --" AJ gasped, "Brian?"

"I'm not a priest for God's sake, AJ," I laughed.

"Might as well be," Nick piped in.

"You're such a dog," Howie repeated, grinning.

"That's it," AJ muttered, "I gotta get inducted. I shouldda asked that damn stewardess." He shook his head and turned to look around the airport.

Nick stood up, "Does it count if it's just that you jacked off on a plane?" he asked. Howie almost choked and AJ practically fell over laughing. "What?" Nick asked, looking from them to me and back again, "What? I thought it was a good question."

"Always playin' with yourself, huh Nicky?" AJ wheezed.

Nick looked offended, "Not always, sometimes there's girls. I've had girls too!" He whined.

Nick was still whining by the time Kevin and Johnny Wright had joined us and we'd all started heading to customs. Johnny was on a cell phone, yelling about figures on another band he managed. He managed quite a few, including NSYNC, who was the band he was arguing about right now. Kevin looked at Nick, who was muttering about having had sex before, and raised an eyebrow. "Who ruffled Nick's feathers now?"

"Nick wanted to know if masturbating on a plane got you in the Mile High Club," Howie recapped, giggling only slightly.

"Who hasn't masturbated on a plane? Everyone would be in the Club if pulling the pork counted," Kevin weighed in.

"I may never eat pulled pork again," I commented.

Kevin smirked. "What's a'matter cuz?" He wrapped his arm over my shoulder, laughing.

Nick contemplated for a moment. "Dude I'm actually really hungry. I haven't eaten in forever."

"You ate like four times on the plane," Lou commented.

"That doesn't count, that was crappy food."

"He ate your inflight meal," Lou told me.

"I slept through it anyways," I said.

"See, he didn't care," Nick said, obviously proving a point in an argument they'd held during the flight. Lou laughed. "Seriously though guys we should go get some food."

Finally we were joined by a couple security guards and the crew of stylists and our choreographer, and we started towards customs. Once we'd made it through all the security check points, we were on our way out to get our luggage when one of our bodyguards stopped us. "The lobby's gonna be a little crazy," he said. "I was just talking to the airport security back there and I guess there's been a crowd waiting for y'all for about four hours now and it's gotten kind of big."

We made plans for the guards to get the five of us out to a shuttle bus that they'd confirmed was out front and waiting for us via Johnny's cell phone and the others would go and collect our luggage and catch up to us later at the hotel. So we hunkered down with the bodyguards and they brought us down an escalator to the lobby. It was like looking out from the stage, seeing the lobby was. There was a huge crowd.

"How do they know where we are all the damn time?" Howie asked as we rode down the escalator. "Do they have like tracking devices on us or something?"

"That'd be so creepy," Nick commented, "We'd be like cyborgs if we had tracking devices in us."

"You're too dumb to be a cyborg," AJ snorted.

"I am not dumb!" Nick whined.

And just like that we were immersed in the craziness. Kevin tried to touch all their hands as he was pushed through the incredibly small pathway security was able to keep. The sound was like thunder as all those girls started screaming and pushing towards us. AJ looked petrified. The bodyguards led us straight through - we were given no option about pausing and signing autographs, though we did try to give high fives and Nick stopped to hug one particular girl who had handed him a box of candy. We piled into the shuttle bus and the girls poured out the door behind us, waving and smacking their hands against the side of the van as the driver carefully pulled away from the curb.

"That was insane," Howie said, his hair all messed up and eyes wide.

"I feel bad we couldn't do more," Kevin commented.

"It's always nice seeing them," I said.

"Yeah, it makes you feel appreciated," AJ added.

Nick's mouth was full of candy.

"I still wanna know how they always know where we are," Howie concluded.

The shuttle bus carried us around the city, which was lit up like Christmas with a million teeny tiny sparkling lights against the dark night sky. We passed the Molson Center, where we were going to be playing our shows, and the van coasted to a stop in front of the hotel less than a block away. A bus boy met us at the door to take our bags, but all we had was our carry on bags, and we explained that another van was coming with our stuff in a couple minutes. A few fans had gathered around the hotel, so we stopped and signed some autographs and took some photos with them.

I was really thankful when the hotel staff suggested that they take us to our rooms, and we rode the elevator up four floors and given the key cards and everything. Nick glanced at my room number and squeaked, "Yes, we're roomies!"

"We're always roomies," I said.

"We're Frick and Frack, can't separate that!" he said excitedly.

"That and nobody else wants to sleep with you," commented AJ.

"I don't wanna sleep with him," I said, "I'm just okay with sharing a room with him."

"I have had nightmares about what that kid does in his rooms," Howie commented as Nick frolicked up to the door that we would be sharing, grinning back at us like a hyena.

"I really don't care what he does as long as I can sleep through it," I replied. "Besides. Anything Nick does, AJ probably does dirtier."

AJ looked back at me, "What are you suggesting?"

"That you're just as much of a horn dog as Nick," I replied. Howie stopped standing behind AJ as AJ unlocked the door and I continued to the next door.

"Maybe the two horn dogs should share a room," Howie commented. But he followed AJ into their room anyways.

Kevin waved from across the hall. "Enjoy sharing, ladies," he teased as he disappeared into his own single room.

"Why does he get his own room?" Nick asked as he got our door unlocked and stepped inside.

"Because five is an uneven number and he's Kevin," I said, shrugging. We dropped our bags on the floor and Nick ran and threw himself on the far bed. I shuffled up to the closer one and crawled right on it, smashing my head into the pillow thankfully. "Ohhh," I moaned, "Good-night."

"Aren't you gonna eat?" Nick asked.

"I'm gonna sleep," I replied.

Nick snorted, "You just woke up."

"Plane sleep doesn't count as sleep," I replied, closing my eyes.

The room was silent for a few moments and I was just about out when Nick suddenly let out a peal of laughter. I opened my eyes and rolled my head to look at him. "What?" I asked.

Nick was wheezing, "I just got it," he said, chortling, "Six flags left, so they go home. Stupid ass blondes."