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Chapter 12

The following night, Nick, Claire, AJ, and Mary sat at the airport in Kahului, waiting for their flights to be called. AJ and Mary’s plane was scheduled to depart at 9:00, Nick and Claire’s fifteen minutes later.

“United Airlines Flight 38, Kahului to Los Angeles, now boarding,” an announcement echoed through the crowded gate.

AJ and Mary rose from their seats. “That’s us,” said AJ. Nick and Claire stood up too. AJ immediately reached for Claire, pulling her into a big bear hug. “Have a safe flight,” he rasped into her ear. “And take care of Nicky for me when ya get back.”

She smiled. “You know I will. You have a safe flight too.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Well, I better say bye to Nick quick so we can board and you guys can get down to your gate in time. It was good to see you again, Claire.”

“You too, AJ,” she replied and pulled away to talk to Mary while Nick and AJ said goodbye.

“It was nice to meet you,” Mary said, giving her a friendly hug. “Maybe you and Nick can come visit us in LA sometime.”

“That would be fun,” Claire nodded, smiling. “Well, take care.”

The two women parted as their boyfriends hugged, slapping each other on the back. Claire couldn’t help but smile as she watched the two men. They tried to act so casual and macho about the whole thing, but it was obvious how much they cared about each other. She knew that even though the guys could drive each other crazy when they were together for long periods of time, Nick missed them when they were not around. And watching AJ now, she could tell the feeling was mutual.

“Well, see ya around, Kaos,” AJ was saying, letting Nick go.

“Later, J,” Nick smiled and stepped back, taking Claire’s hand. AJ reached for Mary, and the two of them turned to head toward their plane, while Nick and Claire walked in the opposite direction, looking for the gate from which their own flight would depart.

“We better hurry,” Claire said, checking her watch. “Don’t wanna miss the boarding call.” She felt bad for making him rush, but they were cutting it close as it was, and the last thing she wanted to do was miss their flight and have to wait for a later one.

Luckily, they made it to their gate in time, and before long, they were seated on the plane. Nick had let Claire have the window seat, and she gazed out the small circular window as the plane rolled up the runway, gaining speed.

“Well, this is it,” she murmured, as the plane got ready to take off. “Bye-bye, Hawaii.”

Nick said nothing, and when she turned her head to look at him, she was surprised to see him sitting stock-still, his back flattened against his seat, his hands gripping the arm rests so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

“Are you okay??” she asked, alarmed by his appearance.

“I… hate… flying,” he hissed through clenched teeth. She cocked her head at him in disbelief and then burst out laughing. He gave her a cold look, but above his hardened eyes and furrowed brows, a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. The boy was actually perspiring!

“Wow, I knew you didn’t like flying much, but I’ve never seen you like this,” she commented, staring at him. “You were fine when we took off in Tampa!”

“It’s the water,” he said weakly. “I hate flying over water… especially oceans…”

She snickered, while he continued to look thoroughly unamused and annoyed with her for laughing. “You’d think you’d be used to it by now,” she said. “Don’t you guys fly all the time, when you tour and stuff?”

“Yeah, which only increases my odds of dying in a plane crash!” he exclaimed in a heated whisper.

She shook her head. “Good lord, Nick… if God wanted to kill you, He’d have done it six months ago. You’re not going to die in a freaking plane crash,” she said, her logic mixed with exasperation. “Just sit back, relax, and enjoy it, okay?”

“Easier said than done,” he said, offering her a grim smile.

She returned the smile with confidence and placed her hand over his, which was still clutching the arm rest. She gave it a single pat and then wove her fingers through his, joining their hands. The plane began to shake as it left the ground, and she squeezed his hand, still slightly amused that a seasoned flyer would be this freaked out during a takeoff, but wanting to comfort him nevertheless. With her free hand, she reached into her purse and rummaged through it until she felt what she was looking for – a pack of gum. She pulled it out and offered it to him. “Gum?” she asked. “To help your ears pop?”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, taking a stick.

She clumsily got another stick for herself with her one hand, not taking the other off of his, and dropped the rest of the pack into her purse. She chewed the gum rapidly and looked out the window again, watching the buildings below grow smaller and smaller as they gained elevation. Contrary to Nick, her favorite parts of a flight were the takeoff and the landing, seeing the ground fade and reappear right before her eyes as the plane rose above and dipped below the clouds. Now she alternated between gazing out the window and checking on Nick. Now that they were off the ground, he had seemed to relax a bit… maybe it was just the actual taking off that freaked him out so much. She figured he’d be all right once they stopped ascending, especially once they were over the mainland again… not that you could really tell once you were above the clouds.

She was right.

After another ten minutes, he seemed perfectly fine, and she was relieved. For a minute there, she was worried he was going to toss his cookies into one of the little barf bags peeking out of the pouch on the back of the seat in front of him. That would sure make for an interesting story – Nick Carter puking in the first class section of an airplane.

A thought hit her, and she giggled out loud before she could stop herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him look over at her. “What are you laughing at?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Have you ever gotten airsick?” she asked, turning to him. “I mean, in recent years?”

She could practically see him thinking. “No…” he said slowly. “Not that I remember. Why?”

“I was just thinking…” She lowered her voice, not wanting to be overheard by other passengers, and continued, “If you puked on a plane, do you think the flight attendant who took your barf bag to throw away would keep it… to try to sell on Ebay or something?” She could barely get through the end of the sentence before she cracked up again, imagining the heading on the Ebay auction page. Airplane Vomit Bag Used By Backstreet Boy By Nick Carter… Not-So-Mint Condition

Nick wrinkled his nose, looking thoroughly disgusted at the mere idea. “Oh sick, Claire! You are so gross!”

“I’m serious!” she giggled. “Some of your fans are obsessive freaks, aren’t they? It could happen!”

He snorted and shook his head. “That the way to win ‘em over, Claire, call them ‘obsessive freaks.’ If they find that out, they’re never going to accept you as my girlfriend.”

“And why do I care?” she replied. “I didn’t know I had to ‘win them over.’ They can hate me all they want; I’ve won you over, and that’s all that matters to me.”

He smiled, noticeably pleased by that last part. “I’m just kidding,” he said. “You were pretty much doomed from the get go, so it’s not like it really makes a difference what you say about them.”

“Doomed from the get go?” she repeated, laughing. “What does that mean?”

“It means any girlfriend of mine is usually hated by most of them, at least the teenyboppers. Doesn’t matter who you are, what you look like, or how nice you are, to me or to them.”

She snickered a little. “Well, gee, that’s a nice thought. So they’re going to hate me as much as they probably hated that Leah hooker you were with – the stripper? Or Willa Ford?”

“Ooh, they really hated Mandy,” he said, his eyes lighting up maliciously. “But yeah, they probably already do hate you, sweetheart. No offense.”

“None taken,” she replied and went on quickly, slightly perplexed, “But what do you mean, ‘they probably already do hate me’? Do people… do they know who I am? I mean, we haven’t-“

He shook his head at her in a way that suddenly made her feel like a child. “Claire… I don’t know this for a fact, but I’d be willing to bet there’s pictures of us online… probably lots of them, from the last few months. Small, blurry, taken at a distance… but they’re out there. They’ve gotta be. In this business, you can’t really hide… people spot you places, and they recognize you, and they take pictures. You don’t always notice them, but they’re there. And when one of us is seen with a woman, especially a woman they don’t recognize, it spreads pretty quickly, and they all start to speculate. I don’t go look at internet sites about us anymore, but I used to once in awhile when I was younger, just to see what was out there… and it really annoyed me. I love our fans, but… man, some of them can be vicious. I remember Mandy used to cry over the hate sites about her that sprung up… that was when I decided it was best to just avoid all that shit.”

Okay, so maybe she was naïve. The way he was talking about his fans, it made them sound like the freaking CIA or something, always spying on him, secretly tracking him and the other four guys. She had always thought of Backstreet Boys fans as teenyboppers – obsessive, maybe slightly crazy, but mostly harmless little girls (and the occasional middle-aged housewife). But after hearing that, she wasn’t so sure. The thought of these little girls lurking around corners and behind bushes, waiting to snap pictures of her with Nick so that they could post them online, along with hateful messages, was unnerving.

There must have been a look on her face, and Nick must have noticed it, for he went on quickly, “I’m not trying to scare you or anything. That’s just kind of how it is. I don’t think they really mean anything bad by it… they’re just trying to look out for me.” He shrugged. “In their eyes, every other woman I date is evil and will only hurt me, and of course they are the ones who will treat me right.”

Claire tapped her chin with her finger, making a big show out of pondering this for a moment. Then she replied, “Well, I gotta say, they do have a point… you are not known for dating nice girls with no evil intentions and ulterior motives. Except me, of course.” She smirked. “No offense.”

His eyes narrowed, but he smirked back. “‘No offense,’” he mocked in a high-pitched voice. “You’re a smartass.”

She smiled. “I’d call ya a dumbass, but if one of your little devotees heard, they’d probably say I was verbally abusing you or something,” she scoffed, and then quickly looked around, as if she were expecting to see some twelve-year-old in a Backstreet Boys t-shirt holding out a tape recorder to catch whatever she could of their conversation for proof of the “abuse.” How sad, she thought. Am I going to be paranoid for the rest of my life because of this conversation?

She certainly hoped not, but all of a sudden, she could understand why most celebrity relationships didn’t seem to work out. Was it being in the public eye, constantly under the spotlight, that was the problem?

It doesn’t matter, she told herself. If being with Nick meant putting up with crap from the fans, then she’d do it. She would do anything for him. Because when it was all said and done, she loved him, and that was what mattered.

***


AN: Now let’s not hate Claire for “her” comments about us Bsb fans, okay? Hehe, I’m just kidding… But you gotta admit, some of the Bsb fans are pretty crazy, maybe even a little creepy at times (anyone read Mare’s “Beautiful Girl”?). None of YOU, of course… I think I pretty much scared off any boppers with the first story LOL. But you know what I mean. ;)