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Chapter 108


AN: Thanks to Veronica and Laureen for their help with this chapter!


Claire followed Laureen home from work that day, going ten miles over the speed limit just to keep up with her friend’s burgundy Saturn.

To say Laureen was pumped up was an understatement. She let the door of her apartment slam shut as soon as she’d ushered Claire inside, then scurried over to the stereo in her living room, turned it on, and pressed play. Instantly, the intro to “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)” revved from the speakers.

“It’s my concert mix!” Laureen announced, bouncing around to the music. “I made it just for today! It has all of the songs they’re gonna sing tonight! All the singles… and all the songs from the new album!” she explained breathlessly, wobbling her head from side to side with the cowbell rhythm.

Claire just watched her in astonishment, amused at how quickly her friend had transformed from a composed and professional dental hygienist to a thirteen-year-old girl, dancing giddily around her living room to the Backstreet Boys. She would never be on the same level as Laureen… but she had to admit, her excitement was mounting higher. Now that work was over, she was anxious to get ready and head to the venue.

“Can I use your bathroom? I’m gonna go change!” she yelled over the blaring music, and Laureen nodded, happily performing the dance routine to the song now. Grinning, Claire left her to it and went into the bathroom with the small duffel bag she’d brought. She pulled out her change of clothes and emerged a few minutes later, dressed in an 80s-esque teal, off-the-shoulder top with a plain black camisole underneath and a pair of faded jeans.

Laureen took one look at her and then turned down the music. “You look cute!” she said brightly, then promptly added, “but I don’t think you should wear that tonight.”

“What? Why not?” Claire asked, looking down at herself. She thought the outfit was fine. It was casual and simple, yes, but it was cute. And it was her. She wasn’t dressing to impress; she was just going to have fun. This was a ‘fun’ outfit, wasn’t it?

Laureen gave her a crooked smile, seeming to hesitate. Finally, she answered, “If you dress normal, the hardcore fans might recognize you. And I don’t know if you want that…”

All of a sudden, Claire understood. What Laureen meant was that she might get recognized as Nick’s former fiancée, the woman who walked out on him and broke his heart. From what she knew, the details of their breakup had never been made public, but it didn’t take much to piece together the fact that she had been the one to instigate it. Nick’s devoted fans, the ones who hadn’t hated her just for being engaged to him, would inevitably hate her now for hurting him. And Laureen was right – she really didn’t want those fans to know who she was.

“Well, what am I supposed to do, wear a Halloween costume?” she asked, holding her arms out helplessly. “Do you still have that Batman outfit you wore to the staff Halloween party last year, when you and Tim went as Batman and Robin?”

“Batman, that’d be hot,” joked Laureen. “No, silly; I have a better idea. C’mere.” She led Claire back to her bedroom and flung open the closet. Standing on her tip-toes, she pulled a cardboard box down from the shelf over the clothes bar and set it on her bed. She pulled off the lid to reveal a neatly-arranged collection of what Claire immediately recognized as Backstreet Boys apparel. A blue bucket hat embroidered with the Bsb logo sat on top of a pile of folded concert t-shirts, and wedged in alongside them were several glowsticks, a bandana printed with the words Backstreet Boys, a necklace with a pendant that said Nick, and what appeared to be a backstage pass on a long strap.

Claire pulled the pass out with interest, but Laureen immediately said, “It’s not real. I think I got it from a cereal box or something, years and years ago.” A blush rose on her freckled cheeks as she giggled. “This is all my old Bsb concert stuff,” she explained. “I was gonna just wear a regular outfit tonight cause I’m past the teenybopper phase, but… if you and I dressed up in this stuff instead…”

Claire could practically see the wheels turning in Laureen’s mind, and she burst out laughing, seeing exactly what she was getting at. “No one would ever realize I used to be Nick Carter’s girlfriend,” she finished, snickering as she looked back into the box. “So can I wear that Nick necklace?”

***

An hour later, Claire and Laureen stood side by side in front of Laureen’s full-length mirror, giggling at themselves. They each wore a Bsb t-shirt with their jeans, Laureen’s from the Black & Blue tour, Claire’s from the Into the Millennium one. Laureen had tied the black Backstreet Boys bandana around her head, letting her auburn hair flow out beneath it, while Claire wore the bucket hat and the Nick necklace.

“We should write Nick’s name on our boobs so we can flash the stage,” said Claire with mock seriousness. “You can paint an ‘N’ on your right boob and an ‘I’ on your left, and I’ll paint a ‘C’ and a ‘K’ on mine, and then we’ll spell ‘Nick’!”

Laureen looked so horrified at the thought of showing her breasts to Nick Carter that Claire burst out laughing again. “He would be so surprised!” she gasped for air. “Can you imagine the look on his face?”

“Oh, I’m sure the guys get flashed a lot, actually,” replied Laureen with a smirk, seeming relieved that Claire was just kidding.

“Haha, maybe, but can you imagine his reaction when he realized it was us?”

Laureen giggled. “Uhhh maybe we should settle for writing his name on our faces or something instead.”

“Okay!” Claire cackled. “Let’s stop at Wal-mart on the way and get something we can use for face paint. We should totally get some shoe polish too, for the car.”

“Ahh, we did that for the Millennium concert in Chicago!” Laureen exclaimed, laughing. “’Honk if you love the Backstreet Boys’… yeah, we thought we were awesome.”

“Oh, we will be awesome!” said Claire firmly. “Come on, we should probably get going now if we wanna have time for all that.”

They took Claire’s yellow Beetle, the more noticeable of their two cars, and in the parking lot of Wal-Mart, they graffiti-ed all of the windows in white shoe polish, things like KTBSPA! (which stood for “Keep the Backstreet Pride Alive,” Laureen explained to Claire), BSB #1!, BACKSTREET’S BACK, ALRIGHT!, and of course, Honk if you love BSB!

Then, in the front seat, they wrote on each other’s foreheads and cheeks with the blue paint they’d bought. By the time they were done, Laureen had KTBSPA across her forehead, Claire had NICK across hers, and they both had a BSB and a heart on their cheeks. They got a confused-looking old woman to take their picture standing next to the car in the parking lot, and then they set off for the amphitheatre, blaring Backstreet Boys the whole way.

***

The amphitheatre seemed charged when Claire and Laureen arrived, the warm night air crackling with an energy and anticipation that was almost electric. Many of the ten thousand seats were already filled, and everyone the two women passed on their way to their seats radiated excitement. The butterflies in Claire’s stomach fluttered with more intensity than ever; she felt almost nervous. In just an hour, Nick would be onstage right in front of her.

She hadn’t seen him in almost six months, and the last time she’d talked to him was the day after the album came out, when she’d lied to him, telling him she couldn’t come to the concert tonight because she would be in Iowa with Jamie. All complete bullshit, of course – she wouldn’t have missed this for the world. But Nick didn’t know that, and she wondered how he would react when he found out she was there. When she’d spoken to him on the phone that day, the wheels in her head turning quickly, she’d thought it would be fun to surprise him. He’d be happy to see her, she’d reasoned, especially if he’d thought she was not coming.

Now she wasn’t so sure. What if this had all been a big mistake? Maybe he wouldn’t like the surprise; maybe he would just be annoyed with her for playing with him. Maybe she should have just told him she was coming when he’d asked her.

But there was no more time for maybes; it was too late now. She was there, and so was he, somewhere backstage. And when he came out in an hour, it would be near impossible for him to not see her – after all, she was in the front row.

When she’d asked Howie to get her tickets, she’d never expected him to come through for her as well as he had. A pair of seats, any seats, would have been fine with her. She’d just wanted to see Nick perform and counted on the fact that if Howie knew she was going to be there, he’d make sure she met up with Nick after the show. But Howie had gone all out, giving her the first-rate, VIP treatment. Not only were she and Laureen sitting in the front row, but in each of their pockets was a laminated pass that would get them backstage when the show was over and everyone else was leaving. Laureen was beyond psyched; she’d hung out with Nick on several occasions by now, but she’d never met any of the other guys. Tonight, she would be around all five of them. Claire was looking forward to seeing Howie, AJ, Brian, and Kevin again too, but she was most anxious to see Nick.

Her anticipation grew as the minutes to concert time steadily ticked down. The amphitheatre quickly filled as the sun set, and over the upbeat rock songs that blared over the speakers, a chant rose – “Back-street Boys! Back-street Boys! Back-street Boys!” Soon the whole audience was yelling the group’s name, and when Claire heard Laureen chanting along beside her, she could not help but join in. For a few minutes, the entire audience was one, chanting in unison for the group they so loved.

Claire had been to her share of concerts before, but never had she seen anything quite like this before. At the rock shows she’d attended, the crowds were always wound up, but many of them turned their excitement into aggression; she’d come home with battle scars from the mosh pits that formed. At other concerts, the kind that attracted an older, more “dignified” crowd, the audience had been laidback, almost lifeless, sipping drinks and applauding politely between songs.

The audience at this concert was refreshing, a blend of youthful excitement and innocent fun. Claire doubted she’d see girls moshing to “Quit Playing Games,” but there was no doubt the crowd would be pumped. Laureen had told her to expect her ears to ring for at least a full day afterward, not from the music, but from the screaming.

As soon as the pavilion lights dimmed, Claire knew her friend had not been exaggerating. A high-pitched chord of shrieks rose as the lights fell, totally drowning out the background music. It was at least another ten minutes before the Boys actually took the stage, but the girls in the audience screamed the entire time.

Finally, the rock music faded, and the live music began. A series of chords that Claire immediately recognized from the song “Everybody” began to play, over and over again, as strobe-lights flashed and neon-colored spotlights twirled through the billowing clouds of fog on the stage. Claire could barely see the band at the back of the stage, yet she kept her eyes peeled, waiting for her first glimpse of the guys.

The suspense in the air seemed thick enough to cut with a knife. Suddenly, the constant screaming peaked sharply in volume, and Claire’s stomach jerked as she looked around wildly for the Boys. Being so close to the stage, she quickly realized it was still empty; then Laureen elbowed her in the side and pointed upward. She glanced up and saw that the large screens high above stage had sprung to life, projecting a montage of images and video clips of the Boys.

The montage seemed generally chronological; Claire smiled tenderly as she watched the footage of much younger-looking versions of the five guys she’d known for the last few years. The change in Nick over the years had been the greatest – she barely recognized him as the short, blonde, angel-faced little boy singing alongside the others. Even Howie and Brian had been taller than him back then. As the montage continued, amid the intensifying screams of the audience, Nick grew rapidly, his face taking on a more mature look as he began to tower over all but Kevin.

She could tell when the video moved from a Nick she’d known of only through the TV and radio to the Nick she’d met three-and-a-half years ago. It was difficult to make a smooth transition between clips of the “Drowning” music video and footage of the Boys performing on TRL the day the first single from their last album had been released. Skipping over three years between shots had the potential to be rough in any case, but the lost time in between was more apparent than ever to Claire. Nick towards the end of 2001 had sported a confident, almost cocky smirk on his round, youthful face, his blue eyes sparkling beneath the long locks of silky blonde hair that spilled over his brow. Even in the soundless video, Nick three years later seemed much older in every way. His face, though still incredibly handsome, was thinner and somewhat less vibrant. His eyes still sparkled on the surface, but their depths held the memories of the pain he’d been through that year. His hair was its natural shade, darker and cropped close to his scalp, just beginning to grow back in after his chemo treatments. Understandably so, the montage only showed the happy parts of the Backstreet Boys’ career, and it briefly sobered Claire to think of the anguish that had occurred between the lapses in time.

And yet, there were plenty of highlights to get them back to the present – footage from the last album release, clips of music videos, shots of the Boys performing at the next year’s VMA’s, which Claire had attended with Nick, and a whole whirlwind of media from the last few months’ worth of promotional appearances for the new album. As the montage faded to a close, the audience screamed their lungs out; whether by experience or instinct, everyone seemed to know that it was finally time for the Boys to take the stage.

Sure enough, in the middle of the fog, the silhouettes of five figures rose majestically from beneath the stage floor. The unseen platform carried them steadily upward to stage level and then stopped, rendering the fivesome motionless in their statuesque formation. Staring at them intently, Claire found she could scarcely breathe. She picked Nick out immediately; he was second from the right, on her side of the stage, a head above Howie and Brian, who flanked him. She could not see his face, but she knew his figure intimately.

All at once, their faces were illuminated by a spotlight, centered directly on Brian, whose voice rang out the opening line to “Everybody.” On the “Alright!” that followed, fireworks sparked, and the stage exploded in light. Claire could see all five guys perfectly now, as they broke their stoic stance and moved to the upbeat music. Her eyes were immediately drawn to Nick; she could not help but watch him.

It didn’t take her long to see that Nick Carter was made for the stage. His voice rang out clearly; she could distinguish its familiar tones even during the five-part harmonies, and he moved with experience and surprising fluidity. About half of his moves were choreographed, while the rest were improvised, as he interacted with the audience while the rest of the group performed the more intricate dance steps. Claire smiled at the way screams rose from whatever section of the floor seats he approached as he moved from one side of the stage to the other. The Jumbotrons projected his expressions, the smiles and smirks and waves he offered the crowd, but from where she was standing, Claire could see them life size and in person whenever he crossed in front of where she was standing, and she could tell how much he was enjoying himself. It brought a smile to her face, watching him.

It was also strange, almost surreal. In some ways, she felt just like any other spectator, one of the many fans who had come to the concert that night. Nick didn’t pay her any special attention, for he did not yet know she was there, standing on the floor just a few feet below him. Yet she had a connection to him that no one around her shared. It was as if she were carrying a special secret, a secret which would be revealed the moment Nick looked down at just the right spot and caught her eye, finally noticing her there. She was so close, she knew it would just be a matter of time. The only question was when.

***

Despite his bad mood earlier in the day, once the Tampa show had begun, Nick had conjured up the usual exuberance he felt whenever he was onstage. He’d fallen into his groove easily, letting himself forget his disappointment at Claire’s absence from the audience that night. He pretended it was just another show, not expecting to see any familiar faces in the large sea of them, except for in the section where Veronica, Mary, Leighanne, and Kristin usually sat.

He’d sought Veronica out right away and glanced over to her a few times in each song, always to find her smiling back at him, her face shining with happiness. “It never gets old!” she’d gushed to him after the first few shows, when he’d good-naturedly asked her if she was getting sick of sitting through the same old thing every night. He thought it would get incredibly old, but here they were, two weeks in, and Veronica’s radiant face still appeared in the audience every night, a beacon among the waves of anonymous people.

With more than half of the show left to go, Nick took his place on one of the five tall stools set up in the center of the stage for “I Want It That Way.” He smiled at the way the screams rose as the familiar chords to the song took form; out of all of their singles, this had been their biggest hit and would always be the most easily-distinguishable Backstreet Boys song, a true fan favorite. He and the guys had sang it so many times in 1999, it had seemed stale to them, but in the last few years, the song had taken on new life. It was a burst of nostalgia for the fans, as well as for them, and whenever they sang it, the audience lit up more than ever. It was the song they sang along to the loudest, and Nick loved to hear the chorus of voices rising out of the audience, singing their song. All it took was for the band to start up that familiar intro, and the fans would automatically jump in with the lyrics; sometimes the guys wouldn’t even sing some of their lines, letting the fans take over.

Nick let his eyes pan slowly across the front row as Brian started to sing the first verse. “You are… my fire…” Every girl he saw was singing along. “The one… desire…” Their eyes were shining, their mouths moving in unison with Brian’s. “Believe…” The short Latina girl with the big breasts... “When I say…” The girl with the black bandana on her head… the girl in the blue bucket hat…

She was looking right at him, and when his eyes locked with hers, his heart staccatoed. He did a double take, but it wasn’t necessary – he already knew. The sweet face beneath the floppy brim of that hat… it was hers. The one face he’d been hoping to see, more than any other, at the concert that night. Claire’s. She was there.

She was a mere few feet in front of him, gazing up at him. Her mouth was open, and he could tell by her expression that she had just realized he had discovered her. She was wide-eyed, almost like a deer in headlights. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was sure his own expression looked similar – a display of total surprise and shock. For a few seconds, they just stared at each other, transfixed; Nick was frozen, almost unable to react.

He was glad it was “I Want It That Way” they were singing because when he missed his cue to start the second verse, it was hardly noticeable; the fans covered for him, singing loudly. “But we… are two worlds apart…”

Finally recovering from his stupor, Nick instinctively picked up the next lyric: “Can’t reach to… your heart…” But as he carried on singing, he could not look away from Claire. “When you say… that I want it that way. Tell me why…”

He saw her mouth move along with his as she sang along with the chorus; halfway through, her lips curved into an impish little smirk, and she winked at him from beneath the brim of her hat. He was still stunned, but he found himself smiling back, a sudden warmth spreading through him like hot, melted chocolate. She was there. She had come after all.

He tried to make sure he looked out into every section of the amphitheatre during the crowd-pleasing Millennium single, but he could not help but glance back at Claire every few seconds. She was swaying back and forth in time to the music, seeming to enjoy herself. The girl in the black bandana standing next to her was Laureen, he quickly realized; both of them kept beaming up at him as he sang. They all knew the secret was out, and the two of them looked pleased with themselves for surprising him.

How had they done it? he wondered at first. Had Claire been planning this all along? Had the excuse that she was going to be up North with Jamie been nothing but a story? How had she gotten the front row seats?

He quickly decided she must have had help, and the first chance he got, when the guys went backstage after “Larger Than Life,” he asked them, “So did you guys know Claire was gonna be here?”

Four pairs of eyes met, and Howie, AJ, Brian, and Kevin exchanged smirks. “We knew,” AJ admitted. “She called D before tickets even went on sale and asked if he could hook her up.”

“She made me promise not to tell you,” Howie added sheepishly. “She wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Are you surprised?” asked Brian, grinning cheekily.

Nick smirked. “I missed a whole line of ‘I Want It That Way’ when I saw her. Does that answer your question?”

They all chuckled.

“So you can’t be mad at her anymore, Nick – she was never planning to go out of town with that loser she’s dating; she just said that to mess with your mind,” Howie explained.

Nick nodded; he had surmised as much. He wasn’t mad, but he wondered why she hadn’t just told him she wanted to come when he’d first asked her. That was Claire, though – she liked to be difficult.

“You know, though, Nick, if you are mad…” said AJ as they all took their places on the platform that would carry them back to the stage, “here’s your chance for a little payback.”

Huh? Nick thought, momentarily confused. Then, as the platform jerked and began to rise, he realized – it was time for “Siberia.”

The familiar riff was already playing as they took the stage, and the screams in the audience swelled with excitement as the fans recognized it. Brian stepped forward into the halo of light created by a single spotlight in the center of the stage and began to sing. As he did, Nick’s eyes quickly found Claire and locked onto her. He found her looking back at him, rather than at Brian. All around her, girls were rocking back and forth to the music, doting smiles glued to their faces; in their midst, Claire stuck out. She stood motionless, almost frozen, gazing up at him. The smile was missing from her face.

Nick was glad he had opted not to take any of the solos in this song, for at the moment, he didn’t think he could find his voice to sing. Not with her staring up at him that way, looking almost the same way she had looked the day she’d stood on his front porch and told him it was over.

Not with the memories of her betrayal haunting him…


He squared his shoulders, unlocked the deadbolt, and pulled the door open, trying to brace himself for whatever she had to say.

“Hey,” she greeted him softly, without even the ghost of a smile. And that was when he knew.

He knew, even before she said it, that it was over.

“Nick…” she began, when he did not reply. “I’m really sorry, but… I can’t do this anymore.”


In his mind’s eye, he saw the engagement ring he’d once placed on her finger, lying at his feet upon the unforgiving concrete. A lump rose in his throat, but he swallowed hard, forcing it down in time to join in on the chorus.

“Then my heart did time in Siberia…”

He walked forward with the others as they sang, getting a better view of her from the front of the stage. Her eyes were large and luminous, and the lights caught the moisture in them, making them shine. She broke her gaze with him only once, dipping her head as she reached up to swipe away a stray tear. But then she straightened again and returned her eyes to him. At that moment, Nick understood the old phrase “the eyes are the window to the soul” better than he ever had before. Claire’s were wide open and filled with sorrow, a sorrow she wasn’t trying to hide from him.

She really was sorry, he realized. Maybe she still didn’t want to be with him… but she was at least sorry for this. Even in the hazy lighting, he could see the remorse written all over her face. And as their eyes bored into each other, they reached a level of mutual understanding.

She regretted what she had done to him. She’d apologized for it before, but the tears sparkling on her cheeks now spoke more honesty than her voice ever could. And as a blizzard of tiny bubbles, meant to look like snow, engulfed the stage, while the lights slowly dimmed and the music gradually faded, Nick wordlessly forgave her.

***