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Nick’s anger lasted through the stay in Zurich.  Mel didn’t go out sightseeing.  She just stayed in her hotel room.  Whenever one of the others walked by the door, he could hear the faint sound of her guitar.  Blaine finally took matters into his own hands.  He knocked on the door of Nick’s suite.

Toby opened the door.  “Yes?”

Like a flipping butler, thought Blaine.  Like I should be presenting a calling card.  “I’d like to talk to Nick.”  He half expected Toby to say, who shall I say is calling?  “Alone,” added Blaine.

Toby opened his mouth…to protest, to invite him in…Blaine wasn’t sure, but Toby never got a chance to say anything. 

“C’mon in, Blaine.  Want a beer?  Thanks, Toby.  I guess we’re done here.”

Toby accepted his dismissal gracefully and closed the door behind him.  Nick got two beers out of the fridge and opened them.  “What’s up?” he asked, handing the frosty bottle over to Blaine. 

Blaine turned the desk chair backwards and straddled it.  “Get off Mel’s back,” he said.  “It’s not her fault.”

“I’m not…” Nick began hotly, but Blaine cut him off.

“Look, just let me say this, and then you can do what you gotta do.  Okay?”

Nick nodded, but he narrowed his eyes.  He took a swig from the beer bottle and then leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.

Blaine took a deep breath.  He had volunteered to do this.  Tofu had suggested that they draw straws, but Blaine had said, no, I’m his friend, I’ll do it.

“You’re mad at the wrong person.  You want to be mad, go ahead and be mad.  But pick the right target.  And Mel isn’t it.  She’s the only person you shouldn’t be mad at.  Because she told you the truth.  She was honest and up front with you.  The rest of us thought the same way she did, we just didn’t have the guts to say anything to you.  You want to be mad?  Be mad at us.  Or be mad at Rafe or Tom or whoever the hell you want.  But not Mel.  Stop being mean to her.  You owe her an apology.”

Blaine stopped, wondering if he’d gone too far.  He tipped the beer up to his mouth and took a long pull.

Nick slowly uncrossed his arms.  He took another drink from his beer.  He stared at Blaine.  Then he broke into a grin.  “Well, I haven’t had a Kevin moment in a long time.  Thank you for that.”

Blaine was relieved.  Maybe he would get out of this room and still have both his life and his job.

“You forgot to say ‘grow up’, but other than that you pretty much nailed the standard Big-Brother-to-Nick speech.”

“Aw, Nick, I just…”

“No, it’s okay, Blaine.  You’re right.  Of course, you’re right.”  Nick stepped away from the wall and dropped into an armchair, spreading his long legs out in front of him.  He gave a deep sigh.  “You’re the one I should be mad at.  You’re right.  So, you’re fired.  Get the hell out.”

“Screw you,” said Blaine.  “I got a contract.”

The two men laughed.  They drank their beer in silence for awhile.

“Was I really that bad?” asked Nick, finally.

“No, you just need to play a whole song…put on the guitar, play a whole song…take it off…so it doesn’t just look like a prop.”

“I meant, was my treatment of Mel really that bad?”

Oh shit!  Blaine looked at him wide-eyed.  Nick burst out laughing.  “But I guess you answered my other question first.”  He sobered.  “I’ll find a way to apologize to Mel.  Although I’m not too good at that.”

“Well, maybe you don’t have to actually say anything, just stop treating her like she’s invisible.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.  Man, I’m not sure I like all this honesty shit.  I’m a very flawed person.”

Blaine laughed.  “We all are, Nick.  Well, thanks for the beer.”  He stood up.  “And Nick?”

“Yes,” said Nick, slowly.  He wasn’t sure how much more honesty he could take.

“She is a world-class guitarist…and I bet she’d make a hell of a teacher.”  Blaine closed the door behind him, not waiting for Nick’s reaction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, they were in Lyon.  At rehearsal, the first thing Mel noticed was that her mike stand was back. 

Okay…  They played a few songs, were really getting into it, Nick was joking around with Blaine and Tofu. 

Okay, maybe he was getting over his snit, thought Melody.  They started Alias Me and after a few bars, everyone stopped.  Melody look around.  What?  They were all looking at her.  What?

“What are you doing, Mel?” asked Nick.  “You know you’re supposed to be out here for this song.” 

She stared at him. 

Nick gave her a sheepish smile.  “Please.”

The sigh of relief went through the whole crew.

That night during the introductions, Nick saved her for last.  Usually, he mentioned her first.  “And last, but not least,” he said, “a truly world-class guitarist and a good and honest friend as well, Ms. Melody Jones.” 

Then he bowed to her, sweeping his arm out to the side in a courtly gesture.  Melody bowed her head to him in acceptance of his apology.  Nick's eyes held hers for a moment, and then he turned back to the crowd.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t think you’re going to like this,” said Gus.

“What?” said Toby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Gus came on tour, he brought his laptop computer with him.  It was state-of-the-art.  Toby wondered more than once how Gus could afford such an expensive piece of equipment.  Toby could use a computer, but he wasn’t into it.  He liked to write things by hand and have the hard copy in front of him.  No searching through cyberspace for the correct file for him.  He wanted it in its appropriately-colored folder sitting right in front of him.

Gus showed him the wonders of the Internet.  And it wasn’t long before that became part of their morning routine.  Gus and Toby shared a room.  They took turns in the shower in the morning.  Gus went first and by the time he got out, Toby would have a list by the computer of the things he wanted Gus to look up today.

At first, it was just information on the cities they were in.  Airline flight schedules.  Were there any cancellations?  Anything that would gum up Toby’s carefully structured timetable.  But after the English review fiasco, Gus had given him an important piece of information…that most newspapers were online and they could get the concert reviews, even though they had moved on to another city or country.  So that was added to the list.

The reviews were all good now, and Toby had bought a printer so that Gus could print them off.  Toby kept them in a special folder that he was going to give to Nick at the end of the tour.  Nick wasn’t interested in hearing any of them now.  Toby had tried a couple of times, “Wow!  The Berlin critics were really blown away!”  But Nick just held up his hand and said he didn’t want to know.

To complete the collection, Toby had Gus go back and get the reviews from the earlier concerts.  And that’s when they made the discovery.  The only two bad reviews were from England.  The first few had barely mentioned the guitar.  And now that they read them over, the English reviews had been glowing…except for the scathing bits at the end.

“I can’t believe how the guy could go from one end to the other like that,” said Toby.

“Almost like it was written by two different people,” mused Gus.

Toby looked at him, perplexed.  “What do you mean?”

Gus pursed his lips thoughtfully.  “Read the first bit to me…from the Liverpool one…” 

Toby picked up the printout.  “’Liverpudlians were treated to a stunner of a performance last night at the Royal Court Theatre.  A blond bloke from America stole the heart of every girl in the place by batting his baby-blue bulbs at them and singing his guts out!  Scousers, beware!  If you’re missing your girlfriend this morning, look in the vicinity of one Nick Carter…’  So?”

“Now read the part where he nails Nick…”  Gus waved off Toby’s protest at his phrasing.  “Go on…just read it.” 

“Um…let’s see…’It was bad enough on his last tour when he was playing at being a garage band and his back up musicians were his buddies from Tampa, but it is totally out of place…’”

“Hah!”  Gus stopped him in mid-sentence. 

Toby looked up.  What?

“…garage band…buddies…”

“So?”

”Don’t you see, Toby?  Those are Americanisms.  The British don’t use those terms.  And look at the beginning of the article…bloke…scousers…stunner.  Someone added that last bit in.  An American.”

“No way,” said Toby, wondering if it was possible.  “Who would do such a thing?”

“Someone who didn’t want Nick to play the guitar.  Of course, that doesn’t really narrow down the list of suspects, does it?” laughed Gus.

Toby opened his mouth to defend Nick, but Gus waved it away.  “Want more proof?”

Toby’s mouth dropped open.  There was more?

“Read the sentence again.  The bad part…”

Toby picked up the paper.  “It was bad enough on his last tour when he…”

”And there you go,” said Gus, triumphantly.

“What?”

“’On his last tour…’ Tell me, Toby, did Nick come to England on his last tour?”

The two men stared at each other.

“Who could do such a thing?” wondered Toby, although he had a good idea.

“Who knows?” said Gus, although he had a very good idea.  This had Cousin Rafe’s fingerprints all over it.

“We don’t say a word to anyone,” said Toby.  “Not one word.”

“Deal,” said Gus, holding out his hand for Toby to shake.  “We are way too far down the food chain to get involved in this. 

Both men filed it in the back of their head.  This might be a handy piece of information to have later.

“You have a devious mind,” said Toby.  “Were you a spy in your past life?”

“I’ve had a bit of a checkered past,” admitted Gus.  “But really, I think it just runs in the family.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t think you’re going to like this,” said Gus.

“What?” said Toby.  He looked over to where Gus was sitting at the computer in just his boxers.  Toby wished he wouldn’t do that – parade around half-naked. 

“I’ve checked a couple of message boards.”

Message boards were a wonder to Toby.  He could not believe how information could move so fast.  Gus had explained how they worked, and he said he was keeping an eye on a couple of American ones, fan sites for Nick.  Gus had originally checked it out when Toby had wondered how the single was selling.  Gus had shown him in an instant.  It was a whole new world to Toby, but he was a fast learner and knew exactly how he could use the information.

Toby enjoyed being able to say to Nick, “Here’s your interview schedule for today; here’s clean workout clothes; the car will pick you up at two; you were number one on TRL again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s up?”

”Mel is.”

“What do you mean?  What now?”

The release of the video had prompted the European girls who had seen a concert to wonder if the girl in the video was the same as the girl who played the guitar.  It was all over the American boards within a day.  Grainy concert shots of Mel had been compared to captures from the video. 

The verdict?  They were not the same person.  The girl in the video was younger, although there had been hot debate about how much younger.  But wasn’t it interesting that Nick had chosen a girl who looked so much like her?  Because remember, in the interview he gave in Munich, he said that he had a lot of control over this video. 

Toby shook his head in amazement.  These girls were scary.  “What’s going on?”

“The bow.” 

Gus swept his hand out to the side.  Toby had been backstage packing up at the time of the bow, but had it described to him numerous times by delighted crew members who were glad that they were one big, happy family again.

“What about it?”

“It’s got them all going again.  They’re talking about them singing together.  Looking into each other’s eyes.  And now the bow.”

“They’re trying to make something up that isn’t there, that’s all!”

”Sure they are,” said Gus.  “They’re teenage girls.  They’re living their lives vicariously through their music idols.  They want excitement and scandal.”

“Where’s the scandal?” asked Toby.

Gus turned the computer.  Toby looked down at the screen.  What about Tamara? it said.