The first time that he noticed something was up, he was eight years old; on a tourbus; and bored out of his mind. He’d broken the controller of his PlayStation just the day before and there was literally nothing else to do in the entire world. He’d tried to continue drawing the picture book he was creating, but soon felt that that was even more boring. Besides, his pencils were stupid and kept breaking. Why was everything breaking these days? He’d trudged over to where his father sat in the small sitting corner near the front of the bus.

Baylee remembered the various papers that were messily lying on the table, which in some sense was very odd, now that he thought back on it. Because his father was a lot of things, but messy wasn’t one of them. He’d often tell Baylee to ‘please, for the mother of everything good, clean your swine stable of a room’, even if his room wasn’t that messy. Baylee assumed he did not get the messy part of his personality from his father.

He’d observed his dad scribbling things on the formal looking pages for a minute, cocking his head as it took longer and longer for his father to acknowledge him and look up from his paperwork.

“What you doin’?” Baylee had eventually spoken up himself.

“Work,” Dad answered curtly.

“Are you writing a song?” Baylee came closer, curious. His brow had furrowed when he caught a quick glimpse of a medical emblem on one of the pages before his father abruptly turned them over.

“No,” Dad mumbled, his jaw set. There was something in his expression that Baylee didn’t quite recognize. But he’d decided he didn’t need to question it; his father had been his hero back then after all. He was everything Baylee wanted to be. He was funny, kind, super strong, super smart; and he would always make Baylee feel better when he was sick. He’d sing to him and only to him; not to thousands of fan ladies in an arena, no, when his dad sang only to him, it was the best thing in the world. If one day Baylee could sing like him, that would be the most awesome thing that could ever happen. And Baylee only had wanted to know if his dad was maybe writing a new song, he hadn’t meant to sneak a peek at the papers, he hadn’t intended to snoop, but still, Dad got mad.

Baylee hadn’t forgotten the icy look in his father’s eyes when he’d sent him back to the bunks. He’d made the mistake of revealing the fact that he was bored and wanted to go outside and it had been the last straw. Baylee still didn’t know what he’d done to deserve the loudness in Dad’s voice that he’d never heard used against him in this way. Dad would often shout a cheer whenever he or Baylee scored a point when shooting hoops, but Baylee had never heard him use a shouting voice in anger. And the most frustrating thing was that he had no idea what had caused it. He’d flinched, turned and ran to his bed, throwing himself on top of the blankets and pressing the stuffed rabbit he’d had since he could remember tightly to his face. The worn fabric of the toy got a bit damp due to the tears Baylee couldn’t hold back. It wasn’t fair. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He shouldn’t have looked at the papers, but he hadn’t known that. Why did he get send to bed when it wasn’t even dark outside yet?

He’d picked up one of the stupid pencils and began to draw in his picture book frantically. When his mother had come in a little later to ask if he was going to watch the show or not, he’d shaken his head furiously, knowing that Dad would sing to the fan ladies, and to the fan ladies only that night.

The next time he caught a glimpse of what was to come, was a few months later. He’d soon grown bored of the NKOTBSB show, so he hadn’t seen much of it since the beginning. That night, however, his mother had finally been able to convince him to come and watch. Whatever, he was bored anyways, since the picture book was done and his iPad broken so it wasn’t like he had things that were more appealing to do. Besides, James was gonna be there too and he was a cool, albeit a bit peculiar little dude and Baylee liked him. When he was around James, it felt like he had a little brother and he had wanted a little brother since forever now. He’d told his parents that once, and they had just laughed, not taking him serious for one bit, which was stupid, because he should be able to have a say in whether he got a little brother or not. Not a sister, of course. Never a sister.

Ew.

He did his best to look bored as his mother handed him his backstage pass, but in truth, he felt a little bad for not coming to watch the show more often. He really loved the atmosphere of the pre-concert buzz that was going on. There were people running in a hurry through the hallways and hastily preparing last minute stuff, just so that his dad and his dad’s friends could go and sing. The energy all around was exciting and soon, Baylee found himself running as well. Mom was shouting something at him, probably to be careful, while Baylee dashed through the halls like he owned the place. People that saw him either gave him an annoyed, strange look, or happily and randomly high-fived him as he was speeding past them. He didn’t go far; just to the end of the hallway and then back again, before his mom flipped out. Mom flipped out about everything and nothing and Baylee couldn’t have that done today. He almost bumped into a big, muscled guy that was doubtlessly a bodyguard and looked up at the mountain of a man. He had to lift his head all the way up to be able to see the man’s face and smiled brightly when the giant winked at him. He was incredibly big, much bigger than Dad, but Baylee was fairly certain that Dad was much stronger.

“Bye!” Baylee called before taking off again towards the spot where his mom was looking at him and shaking her head. Instead he made a sharp turn and lifted an unsuspecting James, who was impatiently hopping from one foot to another while waiting for his mother, high up in the air. The small three year old cried out in surprise, then in joy as Baylee reveled him around.

“Don’ let go!” James shouted and Baylee kept a strong hold on the little boy’s arms and then set him back on the ground.

“No! Again!” James insisted and Baylee smirked, feeling like an awesome big brother.

“Show starts in two minutes,” A voice interrupted over the speakers in the hallway, just as Baylee was about to pick James up again.

“Again!” James called out, ignoring the small crowd of people that moved towards the backstage to watch the show.

“Dude, we have to watch the show,” Baylee informed him, “Daddies are gonna perform!”

“Yours too?” James wondered, looking at him with big brown eyes.

“Duh, he always does,” Baylee replied, a little annoyed that James still didnt seem to understand that concept yet. “They’re a group, you know.”

“Oh.” James thought about that for a second, “Mine sings better than yours.”

Baylee scoffed, incredulous that one could even make such a suggestion, “No way, little dude. In your dreams.”

James shrugged before running towards the back of the stage, eager to get his hair ruffled by his father right before the show would start. Baylee quickly looked beyond Howie and saw his own dad standing off to the back. He seemed a bit lost in thought, but when he met Baylee’s eyes, he smiled and gave him a thumbs up. Baylee grinned back and waved furiously. Then the voice was on the speakers again and the music started. A shock seemed to travel through his dad and Baylee watched as he and the other eight men took their place on the platform behind the curtain. Dad got to stand in the front, and not because he was short, like Nick had told Baylee the reason was, but because he was awesome.

Baylee watched the group with a proud smile as the platform began to rise. He noticed his dad’s hand shook slightly as they got higher and higher up and Baylee knew that his father didn’t particularly like this part of the show where they had to get up really high. But he did it anyway, because he was awesome. The first song was extremely loud and Baylee could barely hear the singing over the music. It was some kind of super-song that had two songs mashed together and it usually sounded great, but today he noticed it was kinda messy and noisy. After the song was done, the Backstreet Boys got off stage and Baylee smirked as AJ leaned down to give him a high five and Dad stuck out his tongue at him.

Baylee relished in the attention he received every time BSB went off stage to give the spotlight to NKOTB and vice versa. Joey messed up his hair and Jonathan had a real hard time arm wrestling with him. It wasn’t until halfway into the show that he noticed something off. It was one of the slow songs, where you could actually hear the voices above the music and the screaming fans. He had been watching Nick from behind, who was jokingly pretending to sleep. Baylee knew that Nick didn’t get to sing much in this song and he always seemed to make fun of that fact. Baylee laughed at his antics, even though he’d seen the joke a hundred times already, and then-

“And I, know you’re 'fraid, to-oo let your feelings sho-ow.”

There was a strange crack in his father’s voice and for a moment Baylee wondered if maybe his dad was watching Nick’s extended joke as well and was accidentally cracking up. Baylee couldn’t see him from where he was standing, so it was possible. Then Dad’s voice did it again and Baylee wondered if maybe he was doing it on purpose because of another joke that he didn’t understand because he couldn’t see him. Smiling, he looked up at his mom and his grin immediately vanished as he saw the unmistakable glistening of tears in her eyes. Baylee’d seen her cry quite a few times before, mostly during really sad movies or TV shows, but since they weren’t watching TV right now, it gave him a very uneasy feeling. He slowly let his gaze return to the stage and when he finally caught sight of his father, who was waving and smiling at the females on the side, Baylee noticed that his father’s smile never reached his eyes.

Mom was on the healthy tour again, Baylee thought as he pushed his fork listlessly through his beans. He hated beans. He was nine, he didn’t need beans. From where he was sitting he had clear sight on the poorly hidden disgust on his father’s face as well. It was obvious he didn’t like beans either, but Mom always said that as long as they wanted her to do the cooking, she got to decide what was for dinner.

Baylee brought his fork to his mouth and cringed slightly as he tried not to gag swallowing the green horror. Apparently his mother saw everything, because she gave him a disapproving glare. “You will not be dismissed until your plate is clean,” she let him know.

Dad snorted, obviously deciding to deal with his potatoes first. Baylee shot him a glare. “And don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish,” Mom scolded Dad, “I think Keeko has had more beans than she could ever need.”

Dad’s face reddened and he looked down; then shrugged. “Fine,” he whispered.

“And did you finish packing?” Mom continued. She sure did like to be all authoritative during dinner.

“I did, actually,” Dad answered, shoving a mouthful of ‘food’ inside.

“Why are we not allowed to come?” Baylee asked, not for the first time. Ever since he learned that Dad was going to London to record a new album without them, he’d been trying to get a clear reason for such a decision. He’d been disappointed so far. Sure, Dad travelled far away without them for work every now and then, but four weeks was a long time to be gone. Baylee didn’t really look forward to spending half of his summer vacation with just his mother. Yeah, Mom was nice and cool and all, but she sucked at basketball and couldn’t pitch a baseball if her life depended on it.

“Cause Nick doesn’t want distractions while recording,” Dad replied, chewing hastily. He said the word ‘distractions’ like it was the grossest thing he’d ever heard.

“So we’re distractions?” Baylee shot, his voice rising.

His father looked at him, “No, well... Nick seems to think so.”

“That’s cause he doesn’t have a family!”

“Baylee!” Mom scolded.

“It’s true! How come Nick gets to decide everything then?” Damnit, now he was getting upset again. Stupid Nick making stupid decisions all on his stupid own. Why couldn’t Dad just bring them with him anyway? It wasn’t like Nick could send them back, right? Baylee didn’t particularly care for London; it was rainy and busy and the people were sturdy and curt, but he liked travelling with Dad, so he didn’t mind where they’d go, as long as they’d go together. And he wouldn’t mind watching them in the studio, even though most of it was boring and they listened to the same line, sometimes even the same word, over and over again, it was still nice to see the songs coming together.

“Well, Nick booked the studio and the house, so it’s pretty much his call.”

“House?” Baylee asked and he saw his mother looking up in surprise as well.

“Yeah,” Dad looked at them and paused, “He wants to, er, re-group, now that Kev is back. So we’re kinda stuck in a house together.”

“Oh dear,” Mom sat back, a true expression of terror on her face.

Baylee snickered, knowing what she was afraid of immediately, “You’re going to kill each other,” he stated.

“Oh come on,” Dad laughed, “We survived almost twenty years with one another, what’s three more weeks? I mean, were the nineties even real?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Baylee said, hopping off his chair, “I wasn’t there. Can I leave, since there’s no dessert anyway?”

Mom looked at his plate, clearly surprised that it was cleared, “Eh, yeah.”

Baylee grinned, reaching a hand into the pocket of his jeans to feel the beans he’d stuffed in there while they were talking. He’d give them to one of the goats outside later, he figured. Goats loved this green stuff more than he did anyway. “I’m going outside,” he told his parents therefore.

And he was right outside the kitchen door when he heard his mom say something to his dad. And he knew he should just walk on, he knew it didn’t concern him and that they didn’t want him to hear it, but something about it peaked his interest, so instead of going outside, he leaned closer to the door, even pressing his ear up against it.

“You sure they insist on recording this now?” Mom asked softly and Baylee had to do his utmost best to hear the conversation, because Dad didn’t talk much louder.

“We don’t have all the time in the world,” he said and Baylee could hear there was another heap of beans in his mouth. “With the anniversary next year and all.”

“But I’m sure they understand the situation, right?” Mom continued, “They could cut you some slack.”

It was silent for a moment and just when Baylee began to think it was because they knew he was listening, Dad mumbled something.

“They technically don’t exactly know the situation.”

More silence. Then Mom, reserved. “What does that mean?”

Although the door was closed, Baylee could practically see his father looking to the ground and biting his lip. It was what he did when he knew he was in trouble, not much unlike what Baylee did himself when he was in trouble. “It means that I haven’t exactly told them the situation.” Dad’s voice was so quiet, Baylee could actually only hear about half of what he said.

“What?” Surely, his mother’s voice was raised now and Baylee could clearly distinguish the anger in it. He should go. Nobody liked it when their parents fought and although Baylee’s parents didn’t fight a whole lot; when they did, they went at it hard. Only this time, his father’s usual stubbornness was nowhere to be found.

“I didn’t really know how,” he said pathetically.

“How many contracts have you signed for this record?” Mom demanded, “How many deals did the group make without proper knowledge of what is happening?”

Baylee’s brow furrowed as he tried to come up with even the slightest idea of what was happening indeed. Something was up, and it was pretty serious, judging by his mother’s tone.

“I can fix it,” Dad said defiantly. There it was, there was the stubbornness that Baylee often found hard to ignore. They were very alike, his dad and he, as Baylee usually found himself arguing despite knowing he was wrong as well.

“Not in four weeks, you can’t,” Mom shot back.

“It’s not that big of a deal, alright?” Dad sighed, waving Mom off in Baylee’s mind’s eye, “By the time we have to sing it live, it’ll be fine.”

It was silent again for a few seconds and Baylee desperately tried to come up with the reason for the whole argument in the first place. Then his Mom cleared her throat, “It’s been a year, Brian.”

“I did not need to be reminded of that,” Dad’s voice was dark now, a clear warning to drop the subject because he was royally pissed off.

“You are going to tell them when you get to London, straight away,” Mom insisted, unfazed by Dad’s brooding tone.

“They’ll hate me for lying to them.”

“That’s your own fault,” Mom continued, “it’s not like they would stay unaware of it anyway, since apparently you’re all living together now.”

“Not my idea.”

“I would have attributed that idea to Nickolas immediately, don’t worry,” Mom said and Baylee felt relieved when he heard a smile shining through in her voice. “Do we have a deal?” she asked and Baylee smiled, knowing that phrase was often used against him as well as against his father.

“Fine,” Dad answered, his voice breaking and Baylee’s eyes went wide, finally realizing what may be the problem after all. He hadn’t heard it since the end of the NKOTBSB tour, and even then had refused to pay attention to it, convincing himself that Dad probably had just caught a cold or something. But if that were true, that cold would have lasted for months and months and only got worse and worse and Baylee had eventually even refused to go see the show at all. If he didn’t hear it, it wasn’t there.

But what if something was really wrong? What if Dad was sick or something? Like, not a cold sick, but really sick? Fear enveloped his insides and he tried to keep himself under control. He was not going to whimper like a baby. Still, he bit his lip so hard that he could taste blood. What if Dad was sick, and they would never tell Baylee about it? What if Dad lost his job? What would they do? Their whole lives basically revolved around Dad’s job. Sure, Mom had her little Wylee thing and Baylee followed every acting class and theatre class known to man, but Dad was the one that kept everything afloat, really. Baylee may only be nine, but he knew where the money came from. And it wasn’t from selling bags or scarves. And acting classes and auditions actually took money, instead of making it.

He walked outside, dropping the crumpled beans from his pocket to the ground unceremoniously and wiping the tears out of his eyes with his other hand. The stupid goats were quick to eat the snack and for once, Baylee didn’t feel guilty about feeding them his vegetables.

He had other things to worry about now.