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Chapter Eight

Just as expected, Kevin did receive the divorce papers Kristin had promised. They were delivered to his hotel room one afternoon, right as they were about to leave for their show that night. It had taken just about three weeks for him to get them, making him think that just maybe Kristin had changed her mind. But there they were, right in front of his face in an eight by ten manila envelope, sent out straight from the Court House.

Kevin stared at the envelope, hoping that my some miracle there was anything but the divorce papers inside of it. He sighed, starting to tear it open but stopped short. As long as he didn’t know what was in it, he was safe. He was safe from hurt and heart-break. He’d still be married and pretend that his wife still loved him and they were doing fine in an everlasting relationship that could never be broken.

That wasn’t realistic though. Kevin snapped from his thoughts as he slowly stuck his finger under the seal and released the adhesive glue. He folded the flap back and dug his hand inside of it, pulling out a thin stack of papers, leafing through them, each one’s heading having something to do with divorce. Each one was signed by Kristin in blue pen that stood out as if in bold print with a blank line below her signature for his own. He looked up and pursed his lips together and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath through is nostrils to keep the tears from coming. It wasn’t any use though, for they came anyway. He looked back down as a tear dropped on to the top paper, smudging Kristin’s signature slightly. He grabbed a pen, knowing that he had to sign sooner or later. He might as well make it sooner and get it over with. He pressed the tip to the blank line, starting to sign, but stopped as if trying to figure out if this was real or just a bad dream. He’d never in a million year expected things to end like this, or at all for that matter. He’d dated the woman since he was a junior in high school, and they’d broken up for only a short time before falling back together by fate. They’d married when he was in his early thirties. Now, things were ending again…only this time, permanently.

They’d spent so much time apart due to their careers that when they were together, he’d considered it to be a treasure. Kristin, on the other hand, had obviously seen it to be nothing more than a burden. They’d been on different wave lengths all this time. The question was, how long? Kevin wondered if there had been signs and he’d been too blind to see them, or had Kristin hidden her feelings making it impossible for him to know until she was ready for him to.

Kevin shook his head to clear it again, realizing he was back to square one of having a stack of papers before him still unsigned. With one last deep breath, he quickly went though them, scribbling his signature down and dating the documents, placing them back in to a neat stack once he was done. He rummaged through the envelope to find a folded manila envelope stuffed in the bottom of it, pre addressed and stamped. Kevin slid them in carefully and sealed it, finalizing the deal without a fight. A fight would only cause problems in the future, and he couldn’t be married to somebody who didn’t love him back. It wouldn’t be fair to himself.

“Whatcha up to?”

Kevin looked up to see Nick walking towards him. He hadn’t even heard his friend and band mate come through the door. Kevin just shrugged his masculine shoulders, forcing a smile on his sad face.

“Not a whole lot,” Kevin answered, “You?”

Nick shrugged back, “I’m bored.” He whined, “Ain’t there anything to do around here?”

“Where are the others?” Kevin hinted, really preferring to be left alone to collect his thoughts at the moment.

“Out…I dunno where.” Nick responded glumly, plopping down on the floor next to where Kevin sat, “They left without me though cuz I was too slow getting ready.”

“Imagine that,” Kevin mocked horror, “Nickolas Gene Carter late. Who would have thought?”

Nick scowled which caused Kevin to laugh, forgetting for a second that he’d just completed his divorce process…the final step before putting the envelope in the mail later that afternoon.

“I’m not that bad.” Nick was quick to defend himself.

Kevin didn’t reply to this, unsure of what to say. Nick knew that this meant that he really was that bad. He blushed slightly, but at least Kevin was in a playful mood instead of serious and harping at him for his tendency to be delayed with everything that he did solo or when it came to the group. Kevin frowned again though when his eye caught the envelope. He didn’t want to be sad, so he scanned his brain for anything to say that would lighten the mood and cheer him up.

“Oh yeah,” Kevin stated mischievously, “Nick…you got a phone call.”

“I did?’ Nick questioned as he scrunched his nose up in confusion, “From who? I’m rooming with Brian…wouldn’t they have called my room?”

Kevin shook his head, trying to keep a straight face, “Nah...special call. It was from a night-club wanting to know why Nicola wasn’t there last night for her…” Kevin coughed, “I mean his performance.” He was deciding to make fun of others misfortunes to console his own, even though he knew it was cruel.

“Shut the fuck up.” Nick grumbled, expecting this from any of the others, but definitely not Kevin. He was wrong though, for he was safe from nobody when it came to the jokes, and they’d been coming almost daily now since the articles.

“Just letting you know,” Kevin smirked, enjoying being immature for once, “They seemed pretty angry to have their leading lady be a no-show. Men came from hours away to see you.”

“Fuck you,” Nick spat, his eyes narrowing as he got up and walked towards the door, “I don’t have to take this abuse.”

“Awe, c’mon Nicky,” Kevin laughed, “I was just joking around.”

Nick turned back around to look at Kevin square in the eye. “Just cuz your wife left you doesn’t give you the right to pick on me like some bully to make yourself feel better. I have feelings too.”

Kevin frowned and before he could apologize to Nick, the blonde boy was gone. Kevin sighed as he realized he was alone again to face the reality he just wished would go away quicker than it seemed to be.

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He looked down at all of the destruction he’d done to himself, tears falling from his eyes slowly. He was in the middle of an emotional breakdown, nothing able to stop it. He placed the tip of his shaky finger over the beginning of one of the older scars, tracing his finger over the smooth, raised flesh.

One thing was for sure. He was afraid. He was becoming afraid because he just couldn’t stop it, and didn’t want to. The cutting was getting out of hand and the feeling just kept becoming more relieving when the blood poured out. He needed to escape the pain, which kept becoming added to. More and more kept piling up, and he honestly didn’t even know if he could finish off the tour any longer, for he didn’t know if he could keep up with all of the demands as well as deal with the tension and stress he was feeling.

Getting up, he looked at his roommate sleeping soundly in the small bedroom of their hotel suite. He quietly padded across the carpeted floor, opening the sliding French doors and stepping out on to the balcony into the cool night, closing it behind him to all but a small crack. He walked to the railing, looking out in to the night, breathing in the fresh air as he let out a sob. He needed strength to get him through the next two weeks, but didn’t know where it would come from, for he felt he’d lost it all. His courage, his positively towards anything, his will to survive.

His cries became more persistent and open. It got to the point where he found it hard to breath as his wracking sobs took over his body and control. He clutches his stomach as he slowly turned around, sinking down along the railing all the way to the ground. He simply couldn’t get all of the thoughts out of his mind of everything that was going on. This wasn’t the lifestyle he wanted anymore. Nothing was. He couldn’t get out of his head that he simply didn’t want to live anymore at all.

“I can’t do this anymore.” He bawled out in a whisper.

He tried to think of his life in better times, when everything came easily. He was care-free and happy. Sure, he had worries and stressors, like anybody else, however they were normal and came and went without much problem. He had a loving, supportive girlfriend and loved what he did. He never second-guessed anything took things as they came with a shrug of the shoulder. The thing was, he couldn’t even remember his life when it was like that. It was as if it had been somebody elses, but he supposed he was a whole new person now. None of his previous life existed anymore. Not one increment of it other than he was still part of the Backstreet Boys, but he couldn’t stand the career any longer. The fans he once lived now got on his nerves. He had to fake everything, but on the inside he was dying and suffering silently.

Once he felt he had calmed himself down and could stand, he got up slowly, swaying at first. He turned back towards the balcony, looking over at the city below him, the traffic whizzing by from twelve stories up. He looked behind him, making sure he was still alone before lifting one leg up over the railing, hanging half way on each side. He stopped though, heart pounding in his chest violently. He looked down, tears still falling at a manageable pace. With hesitation, he lifted his leg back over so he was in complete safety. He wanted to end his life, but this wasn’t the way to do it. Jumping over, plummeting twelve stories wasn’t his way. It wasn’t his time, but he knew his time was running out quickly. This he knew, because he wanted to make sure it happened before everybody else found out his secret, because then they would make him get unwanted help and he would be watched over and forced to live out the rest of his life in darkened sadness.