Chapter Eleven

"You all right, man? You were feeling pretty good last night."

Howie nodded slowly at AJ. His head hurt. His teeth hurt. His mouth tasted like shit, even after five minutes of brushing his teeth and using mouthwash.

A thud reverberated through him as Nick thumped him jovially on the back. Howie scowled at the big blond as he squeezed his massive body close to Howie's, into the seat next to him.

"You need a goodnight's sleep, dawg. You look like crap."

"Fuck off," Howie snapped.

Nick giggled and clapped a hand over his mouth in feigned shock. He had been trying to get back in Howie’s good graces through any means possible. Howie had always found the big kid in Nick amusing, and the younger man was not above using it as his trump card. "Oh, and he's in a bad mood too."

Howie wished they'd all just leave him alone. He was fine. The hangover itself was a mild one. It was the sleep deprivation that was wearing him down.

"Leave him alone, Nick." AJ said through forkfuls of scrambled eggs and sausage, offering his friend far more support than Howie had been capable of giving him in recent months. "Howie, ya want some coffee? Ya should eat something, man. Ya look kinda green. Food might help."

Kevin entered the room, raised an eyebrow at Howie and nodded towards the others. Without a word, he selected melon, pineapple and berries as well as toast and jam. He silently put it and a coffee in front of Howie.

"We got a big day ahead of us, D. Eat up, you'll feel better." Kevin treated him with the respect that they'd shown each other from the start. Howie was appreciative of his lack of invasiveness. To the others, Kevin could be overbearing but not with Howie. They were both men, albeit young, when the Backstreet Boys were launched. Although their personalities differed substantially, there was a mature acceptance of each other’s idiosyncrasies.

Brian was the last to arrive. He and the interviewer entered the room together. She methodically unpacked her bag in preparation for the interviews while Brian, who waved to the others, loaded his plate from the breakfast buffet. His grim expression suggested that he saw that all was not well. Someone would be covering for someone's ass today, he thought, and he wanted no part of it.

Howie hadn't been himself since his break up with Melanie. That was normal enough Brian guessed, but there was more to the story than met the eye. Brian took a seat away from the others and thumbed through the day’s itinerary, as well as the upcoming rehearsal schedule. Being out of the loop suited him fine.

Initially, the interview was like most others. They gave their patented answers. The "we're like brothers", "we're closer than we've ever been" and so on. It had all been asked before. It had all been said before.

The food did help. Howie felt better even though it had been difficult to swallow. His golden brown coloring almost had a healthy glow and although the dark circles around his eyes showed otherwise, the makeup artist could cover up a fair amount of it.

"So, how about arguments. Can you be more specific? What do people like you argue about? Mmm...Let’s see...money?" The interviewer dug deeper.

"No, we're cool about the money. We made some mistakes in the beginning, but we're alright now." The other members watched Kevin as he spoke for them. They'd all been doing this long enough to answer for themselves and there were certain questions that certain guys always took. Usually the controversial ones went to Kevin who would slowly deliberate over his answers.

"Artistic direction? Has that been an issue?" That was an AJ question. AJ explained their individual projects and interests, and how they were still very united as a group.

“How about you single guys? Do you ever argue about women?”

Kevin’s stoic expression gave little away, but the glances between AJ and Nick told her that she had hit pay dirt. Whatever it was, all of them became very tightlipped, refusing her the scoop she happened upon. Howie withdrew into the background, compulsively sipping on a bottle of water for cover. The question, which had been directed at him, got a casual shake of the head and a collective “no” in unison. The interviewer noted with some regret, that they were a sharp group of professionals who knew the ropes and how to avoid them.

There had been some speculation about a serious girlfriend who disappeared from the scene. Of the group, Howie was the most secretive publicly about his attachments, but within their inner circle, his separation from Melanie drew a great deal of speculation. For all her prodding, the magazine had little more than the usual Backstreet press when the interview was over.

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The turnpike stretched out for miles ahead. Nick didn’t mind. He liked driving. It was one of those things he grudgingly gave up when he was touring. He associated it with freedom. Freedom from scrutiny. Freedom from obligations. Free to think random thoughts without interruption. He also enjoyed the power of the vehicle he drove, not in a reckless way either. He was high-spirited yet no one would call him a daredevil. Aaron wore that crown in the Carter family, and he had the scars to prove it.

Thoughts of Aaron brought a smirk to Nick’s face. He loved his brother dearly even if he was a royal pain in the ass, and Aaron idolized him in return. They would only see one another after this leg of the tour. Aaron’s schedule had him in Canada and along the West Coast while Nick was rehearsing in Florida.

It had been confirmed during the meeting held after the interview that Australia and Asia were BSB’s first port of call. The Firm and BSB’s sponsors realized that those parts of the world had been long ignored. They owed the fans there. Of all the places on the tour, Nick was most anxious to see Australia. Its spectacular landscape and wildlife had always intrigued him, and despite being on the other side of the world, the culture was just a more eccentric version of the American one. It had been unanimous decision to stay a few extra days to explore the land down-under, for which Nick was grateful.

What he wasn’t looking look forward to was being with the guys. They had been so close when they started out. It was a time when they all ached for the same success, and in retrospect, those hungry years were the happiest. Every joy was savoured with the innocence of youth. Now, everyone was either blasé or self-motivated. At least, on stage, they were still a unit. The audience’s euphoria was capable of transporting them back to that time, even if it was only for a few hours.

AJ’s battles with his demons, depression, and addictions had taken their toll on the group. Brian’s indecision over whether he was committed to the group or ready to forge ahead in another area of entertainment with his wife had also undermined their stability. Kevin just seemed tired of it all, and then there was Howie whose relationship with Nick had always been likened to a pendulum swinging. Right now, they were as distant as could be. He only had himself to blame for that situation. He needed Howie. Always had. It was a dependency he couldn’t exactly explain, nor did he want to.

That nosy reporter thought she would get them to crack. It had long been a challenge of theirs to speak without saying anything particularly revealing. Brian was the master. He was a born politician and maybe it’s because he kept himself removed from the controversial issues. No one said anything significant, but the tension afterwards was visible in their tight smiles and terse replies. Someone had let the ball drop. Usually questions were previewed and vetoed ahead of time. The interview couldn’t have ended fast enough, and the shoot afterwards became the bridge to an exhausting business meeting with their management who confirmed their long and short-term plans.

Having recently completed the commercials for their tour, six weeks of intensive rehearsing lay ahead of them. Nick’s mind drifted to the brief conversation he had with Howie before they all parted. The annual DLF event was approaching, and Nick had agreed months earlier to perform. Although he had forgotten, he assured Howie he’d be there and began formulating a plan. This may be the opportunity he had been looking for.

AJ had offered to let him stay overnight at his place in Orlando. Nick thanked him, but wanted to get home. They’d be on the road for so long that he wanted to enjoy sleeping in his own bed, playing with his dogs, and just hanging with his own friends.

His newest CD blared from the stereo system. It was a wonder he had any hearing left at all. The music was a key element of the drive. They went hand in hand. So when the phone rang, Nick had a hard time distinguishing it from the heavy metal instrumentation. He picked up on the fourth ring despite the phone being right by his side, and pushed the mute button on his sound system.

“Nick?”

“Hey, yo! Mel, is that you, babe? I’m only gone a day and you’re missing me. What do ya know? I never would have guessed.” She bristled at the laughter she heard in his voice.

“Nick! Shut up before I regret I ever dialed your number and hang up.”

“Yup, it’s Melanie for sure. What can I do for you, sweet thang?”

“I, uhm. . .heard you’d be coming back to Tampa tonight.”

“Y—e-es,” he drawled. She was losing her patience quickly. Why did he have to gloat when he thought he’d won whatever battle of wills? To hell with him. She refused to let him have the upper hand.

“Forget it,” she pronounced, and a dial tone rang in his ear.

He chuckled again. What a temper!

“Call Melanie,” he said into the phone’s auto dial system. After the fifth ring, the answering machine picked up. Mel stared at the phone as she heard Nick speak, the smile apparent in his voice, “Don’t be mad. Come on, pick up the phone. I was just surprised to hear from you, that’s all. You don’t have to worry, I ain’t gonna drag your ass out tonight to exercise, if that’s what you were worrying about. Brent and Sam invited me out to the Brass Mug. Why dontcha come, too? It’ll be fun. I promise I won’t bite unless you want me to.” He laughed. “Mel?. . . Ya there?. . . Oh Melanie?. . . Okay, be like that. It’s your loss.” Nick hung up, shook his head and muttered to himself, “what a piece of work.”

Mel sat rooted to her spot on the couch. Son of a bitch, she thought. He had been laughing at her. Just when she thought they could have an amicable arrangement, his punk behaviour changed her mind. She sighed, tired of the fight for her dignity. It was too bad really; the idea of going out to the club was almost irresistible. On the other hand, there was no way in hell she was going to let Nick erroneously misconstrue her presence for a desire to be in his company.

When Samantha left with Brent, Melanie waved them off with an almost parental indulgence. She outwardly appeared content to remain at home and neither of them suspected her inner turmoil. Her restlessness plagued her. The repeated trips to the kitchen, the constant flipping through the channels on the television, and her inability to focus on her book did nothing to improve her mood. She was lonely. For the first time, she realized how much power she had relinquished by carrying on a feud with her own conscience; a conscience personified in the image of Nick. He was the instrument for her self-flagellation.

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Nick saw Melanie first. He was surprised to see her at all, but kept her presence to himself, hoping that Brent and Samantha would notice her. She had an air of uncertainty as her eyes panned across the packed bar. He laughed inwardly thinking how vehemently she’d deny it.

He took another long swig of his beer, concentrating on the swirl of the nutty flavor in his mouth. His dampened fingers slid along the length of the perspiring brown bottle. The second set was about to start and he leaned back in the wooden chair, which faced the crowded stage. Several people had recognized him but this was a rock crowd, hardly swept away by the likes of a Backstreet Boy. There were still a few perks to his fame.

Several pretty college co-eds had more or less given him the green light to enjoy the evening with them. He was used to women approaching him, wanting him, well maybe not him, but Nick the pop star. Right now, he was here to enjoy the music. Damn Melanie for showing up. He was no longer in the mood for their usual sparring. The day had taken more out of him than he was willing to admit.

Samantha and Brent didn’t notice her, and Nick became more and more agitated as the evening progressed, wondering where she was and why she had made no attempt to approach them. He had seen her pay her cover charge. During the entire second set, it played on his mind that she was there and chose not to say hello. He nonchalantly looked about, catching the eyes of predatory women who were looking for an opportunity to approach. The hard driving sound of the rock music drew him back and it was only when the band took a break, that he saw Melanie again. She was amongst the many people who were on the floor, moving to the DJ's selections of rock, pop and R and B.

Her body swayed gracefully to the rhythm of music, capturing her partner’s undivided attention. Nick grinned. Yup. His project was a success. This reminded him of an old movie. What was it called again? It was one of those dumbass musicals his grandparents loved, something about a fair woman. Who cares, he thought, shaking his head to dispel his thoughts.

It was a wink that jarred Nick back to reality. Melanie’s wink. He had not been looking at her in his reverie but it certainly seemed that way. He smiled back grudgingly. He was caught or, at least, she would think so.

Brent let out a low cackle as his eyes followed Nick’s.

“Looks like Mel showed up, Sam.”

“You’re kidding. Well. . . I’m glad. She really wanted to see the band but. . .” The rest of the sentence caught in her throat. Nick’s eyes narrowed. He had heard the “but” and knew that he was the “but”.

“But what, Sam?” If only the music had been loud enough to drown out any conversation, she thought.

“She. . . she. . . had a lot of studying to do. I guess she thought to hell with it.” They all knew it was a lie, but allowed Sam a reprieve. Nick understood. Loyalty to one’s friend was something he appreciated. Although Melanie’s sentiments offended him, they had actually mirrored how he felt tonight. He would stay out of her way socially, he decided. It was probably for the best.

A hand tapped his shoulder, a hand with long nails. He loved long nails, especially with red or pink nail polish. The colors were pretty outdated, but those were the ones he liked. He was traditional that way. He didn’t care for much make up either, just lip-gloss; lip gloss on soft full lips. His mind began to wonder in the midst of the crowded nightclub.

Nick was prepared to sign autographs or be friendly, but anything else was not even a consideration. Getting laid was great, but in his hometown, there were always more strings attached than he wanted. He turned towards the hand and raised an arched brow curiously. In front of him, stood Melanie, smiling down at him from glossy rose-colored lips.

“Wanna dance? Hey Sam, Brent. What an awesome band, huh? I’m glad I changed my mind.”

Before they had a chance to say more than hello, Nick reached up to grasp the long red-tipped fingers and tugged her towards the floor. He’d stay out of her way socially tomorrow.

“Okay, I’ll dance,” he said, unnecessarily, as they found themselves standing in the middle of the dance floor, his crooked grin in place.