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Chapter 106

Amid the promotional appearances scheduled the next day, Nick found time to call Claire and apologize for the night before. He’d woken up with a hangover, and his memories of the previous night were scattered, but he did remember her calling… and, vaguely, he remembered telling her that he loved her. It was as true as ever, but now that he was sober, he realized how awkward it must have been for them both and felt embarrassed. He needed to set things right, to alleviate the awkwardness between them before it had time to fester.

And so, while the other guys chilled in the green room of one of the TV studios, Nick snuck away to a more private spot, cell phone in hand.

***

When her phone rang, Claire was not expecting to look down and see Nick’s name.

After the way they’d left things the night before, she hadn’t expected to talk to him for at least a few days. She’d tried be gentle with him when he’d told her he loved her, but in the end, there was no easy way for her to say it – that she didn’t want to be with him anymore. A part of her still loved him; a part of her always would. But to tell him that would just make it harder, she thought.

It wasn’t appropriate anyway. He was dating someone else, and so was she. In fact, she’d assumed it would be Jamie calling to make plans with her for that evening, though she was surprised that he would call before noon. They both had the day off – he was on vacation from work until after Labor Day – but he’d been out drinking with his friends while she hung out with Laureen the night before, and she expected him to be in bed with a headache. She was even more surprised, though, to find that it was not Jamie calling at all, but Nick.

“Hey…” she answered tentatively, not sure what to expect from him. She wasn’t sure he would even remember last night, for as plastered as he’d sounded.

“Hi, Claire.” Nick’s voice was solemn. Oh yeah; he remembered alright. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, waiting to see if he would keep going. He did. “Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for last night. I… I dunno what all I said to you, but I think I remember the basics… S-sorry, if I put you in an awkward position.”

Claire nodded, happy to hear him sounding sober again. His apology, the confirmation that he, too, realized how awkward last night had been, made her feel better, and she quickly replied, “No problem. Not like we haven’t listened to each other’s drunken ramblings before. How’s the hangover?”

It was her way of changing the subject; she didn’t want to talk about the things they had said the night before any more than she had to. What was said was said; what was done was done. She’d rather just forget it happened at all, even though his slurring voice had echoed in her restless dreams all night. I love you, Claire… I love you! he’d called down a long corridor, while she stood at the opposite end, holding hands with Jamie. Jamie had tugged on her hand, trying to pull her through an open doorway, but her feet had remained firmly planted to the ground, refusing to budge. She could not look away from Nick, standing there at the other end of the hall, holding on to the wall for support as he cried out to her.

Nick laughed, a humorless chuckle. “Tylenol is my friend,” he answered dryly.

She laughed lightly. “So, what have you got going on now that the album’s out?” she asked him.

“More promo stuff. We’re finishing up the circuit here in the States today and tomorrow, then we’re heading up to Canada for a couple days to do some stuff with MuchMusic and whatnot, and then next week we’ll be in Europe to promote there.”

“Wow,” Claire said, her eyes widening. It was amazing to her how he could talk so casually about just hopping on a plane to Europe, as if it were nothing. To him, it probably wasn’t; she knew he and the guys had been to Europe many times and were used to flying around the world. It was practically second nature to them. “That’s really cool. Are you excited?”

“Yeah. Should be fun,” he replied, though he sounded more subdued than excited. But his voice did perk up when he added, “Then after that, we’ve got tour rehearsals for a month.”

“Oooh. When’s the tour start?” she asked. She could tell this was something he really was looking forward to. She had seen how restless he got when he was stuck in one place for too long and knew he had been longing to get out on the road again for years.

“October. The US dates are supposed to be released sometime this week… maybe later today? Not sure, but I do know we have a Tampa date. It’s October 12th. Any chance you’d wanna come? I could hook you up with tickets and stuff if you do.”

Listening to him, Claire smiled. He wanted her to come. She was about to say yes, that of course she wanted to come, but then she started thinking. She thought quickly, and after a pause, she said, “Oh Nick… is that the second week in October? I’m going to be in Iowa with Jamie then. It’s… it’s his mom’s birthday. He already asked me, and we made the flight arrangements and everything. I’m sorry. Do you have any other Florida dates?”

Nick’s voice was stiff, as if were speaking through gritted teeth. “Orlando, but it’s the same week.”

“Oh. Any chance you’ll be playing Des Moines that week too?”

“No. After the Florida shows, we head to New England, I think.”

“Aww. I’m sorry, Nick. I wish I could go, but I’ve already promised Jamie…”

“It’s okay,” Nick said flatly, sounding as if it were anything but okay. “What can ya do?” He was being sarcastic. “Well, I gotta get going. Catch ya later, I guess.”

Claire bit her lip; he sounded totally pissed off. Let him be pissed off. It’ll be worth it, she told herself, then said aloud, “Alright. Take care, Nick, and have fun in Europe.”

“Thanks. Bye,” he grunted and hung up before she could get a “goodbye” in herself.

Claire lowered her phone and looked at it. Call ended, the message on the screen told her. She let it linger for only a second before she pulled up her contacts menu and scrolled through it, searching for a number she’d barely used, but knew she had stored. When she found the correct name, she smiled and punched the button to call the contact.

“Hi, Howie? This is Claire,” she found herself saying a few seconds later. “Fine, thanks; how about you? Glad to hear it. Hey, is Nick in the room with you? No? Good. Listen, I need a favor. Can you set me up with a pair of tickets to your concert in Tampa on October 12th? Really? Awesome – thanks! And one more thing… don’t tell Nick, okay? I want to surprise him.”

***

Once the Backstreet Boys had finished traveling to promote the brand new album, they moved quickly into rehearsals for the upcoming tour. They didn’t have as much time to get ready as they had for past tours, but they found that it was not needed. They were keeping things relatively simple this time around; no troupe of backup dancers, no flying over the crowd, less pyro and special effects, and much easier choreography. Management had hired a choreographer who had done a fantastic job at tweaking the old classic dances and making up new ones to accommodate what Nick could do on one leg of flesh and bone and one of metal.

Amanda Mahannon was relatively new in the business, but would leave the Backstreet tour highly recommended by the Boys themselves; she had worked their whole two-hour show out to cater to Nick’s abilities, planning the most intricate dance moves for the times when Nick had solos, so that he could sing while the others danced, and simplifying the rest of the choreography so that it involved the upper body more than the lower.

Before rehearsals, Nick had been slightly concerned over the matter of choreography – they would be singing all of their old singles on the tour, and he knew the fans loved seeing the dances from their videos – “Everybody,” “As Long As You Love Me,” “All I Have to Give,” “Larger Than Life” – all routines he doubted he could pull off on one leg. But after just a few rehearsals, he felt much better. With the modified dances, they would not let the fans down, nor would he make a fool of himself onstage or stick out like a sore thumb by not dancing at all.

The other guys were happy with the changes as well. “Honestly, I dunno if I could get this old body down on the chorus of Everybody anymore, anyway,” Kevin said good naturedly, only half-joking. Howie agreed, while AJ made some remark about no more “busting his balls” on the back of a folding chair. They all cringed at that, remembering the various painful folding-chair mishaps they’d had when first learning Fatima’s “As Long as You Love Me” choreography.

Nick threw himself into rehearsals whole-heartedly, hell bent on pulling his weight when the group hit the stage for their first concert in nearly two years and their first tour in over five. Though no one was pressuring him, he still felt under pressure… from himself. Nick Carter had worked too hard and come too far in his life to let anyone down, especially the fans who had gotten him where he was in the first place. He was determined to exceed their expectations and help put on a show they’d never forget. And so he worked out and practiced hard and hoped for the best.

The first concert was in Brian and Leighanne’s hometown of Atlanta, Georgia, and all of Leighanne’s family was coming. Brian hung out with his in-laws backstage before the show, while Nick sat by himself on a couch, nervously jiggling his good leg.

“How ya feelin’, bud?”

Nick glanced up when he felt a hand on his shoulder; he hadn’t even seen Kevin come up. “I’m fine,” he said quickly, then paused and added, “Nervous, ya know?”

Kevin nodded knowingly, smiling at his confession. “Hey, you think I’m not? I think we all are. We haven’t done a concert since that charity gig, and before that and the VMAs, the last time I was on stage was for Chicago. It’s been awhile. I get nervous when I get rusty.”

“Rusty?” repeated AJ on his way past them. He stopped and cocked his head at Kevin. “You ain’t that rusty, old man; we just got outta weeks of rehearsal. We’re ready, dude!”

“I hope so,” sighed Nick. It wasn’t the right time to start doubting himself, but all of a sudden, the doubts came flying at him like a flock of angry birds. What if he wasn’t ready for a tour? What if two months out on the road, performing a two-hour concert nearly every night, turned out to be too much for him? He’d been working out vigorously, trying to improve his stamina, but when it came down to it, doing anything on his artificial leg required double the energy he would expend otherwise. What if he just couldn’t handle it?

The guys didn’t know how he’d felt; he’d spent the last few months insisting to them that he could handle it, that he wanted to tour again. And he did. But now he was afraid of crashing and burning, of letting them all down – not just the guys, but the record company and the sponsors and, most of all, the fans. He couldn’t bear to voice his fears now either – not with the pride so evident in Kevin’s smile or the excitement dancing across AJ’s face.

But he hadn’t spent the last fourteen years of his life with these guys for nothing. He may have been able to mask his true feelings from the public, but he could never hide them from his brothers; they could usually read him like a book. This time was no different, Nick realized, when AJ looked him directly in the eye and said, “You never used to get nervous, Nick; why should you now? This is no different. Just go out there and be the same crazy son of a bitch you’ve always been, and you’ll be fine.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Nick saw the look Kevin flashed AJ, but the older man said nothing. Nick knew what he was thinking though; he was remembering their last concert, when Nick had pushed himself so hard that Brian had found him coughing up blood and gasping for breath in the dressing room afterwards. Kevin wouldn’t say it, but he was afraid, afraid of something else happening. Nick had told him again and again that he was fine; last time, he had known that he was sick, but now he felt perfectly fine. His last doctor’s appointment in June had gone well, and he was not expecting any surprises at the one he was scheduled for in December.

Yet despite all of this, Kevin still worried. Pretending he hadn’t noticed, Nick smiled up at AJ and nodded. “Right,” he said, more determined than ever to prove to Kevin that he could do this, more desperate than ever not to let him down.

***

From beneath the stage, Nick could hear the screams rise as the music subtly slid into the instrumental backing to the opening of “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back).” The fans in the audience cheered and cheered as the same three chords played almost eerily, the high accompanying notes tinkling above them. The measures of music repeated over and over again, as the suspense built and the screaming swelled.

“This is our cue,” warned Kevin, checking to make sure they were all in position on the platform that would rise through a trapdoor and elevate them to the stage. “Y’all ready?” He met Nick’s eyes, and Nick nodded, sucking in a deep breath. His heart was racing, he was already perspiring, and his stomach was a jumble of knots from the nerves. But now that it was finally showtime, he discovered they were the good kind of nerves, the kind he got from the delightful surge of adrenaline that rushed through him whenever he was about ready to perform.

This is it, he thought as he felt the platform jerk gently beneath his feet and start to slowly move upwards. The screams grew louder as the platform rose; they were practically deafening once his head was above the platform. He could barely see out into the audience, for the stage was filled with smoke from the powerful fog machines on either side, and the lights overhead were blinding. Positioned carefully amid the hot white spotlights, colorful stage lights also shone down on them, their neon beams visible in the fog.

The heavy swirls of smoke and the dazzling lights were oddly comforting to Nick; they were like a screen, shading him from view, allowing him to collect his thoughts in those final seconds. Yet as he stood in the middle of the stage, with Brian on his right, Howie on his left, and masses of screaming fans stretched far and wide before him, Nick found he did not need to think. The stage was like home to him, performing was second nature, and he was back in his element. All at once, Nick felt invincible.

As the fog melted away and the cue to start singing loomed, he smiled broadly, inviting the shower of screams that seemed to rain down from the rafters, as Brian opened his mouth in the very center of the stage and belted out the now-legendary, “Everybody… rock your body… everybody… rock your body right…

“Backstreet’s back, alright!” their five voices rang out together, and as the band launched into the familiar accompaniment, the venue seemed to erupt. The energy of the crowd energized Nick as well, and he did the revamped choreography with ease, his nerves rapidly fading, though the adrenaline still surged.

“Am I original?” he sang, moving to the front of the stage, waggling his eyebrows as his face was projected onto the large screens over the stage behind him. The crowd screamed.

“Am I the only one?” Brian added his line, coming up alongside Nick and waggling his index finger. The crowd screamed.

“Am I sexual?” Nick trailed the hand that was not holding his mic suggestively down his torso, stopping in the vicinity of his crotch. The crowd exploded, the mass of high-pitched female screams seeming to jump an octave and several decibels. Nick grinned as they launched into the chorus again. It was as it had always been; so much had changed, but the fans had not. Backstreet fans were loyal; never had that fact been so clear to Nick. And never had he been so grateful.

“I wanna see you rock your bodies, Atlanta!!!” he shouted, as the guys danced and chorused “Alright!” behind him.

“Now throw your hands up in the air!” AJ half-screamed/half-sang, thrusting his hands above his head as he charged up alongside Nick at the front of the stage, looking out into the crowd. “Wave ‘em around like you just don’t care! And if you wanna party, lemme hear you SCREAM!!!” The audience screamed and screamed, thousands of neon green glow sticks waving from side to side in unison, as AJ finished the verse: “’Cause we’ve got it’ goin’ on again…”

***

Lyrics: “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)” by the Backstreet Boys!