Point of View: Nick
I was sitting at the desk that night, instead of drawing, I was writing out ideas for what to teach Eric the next day. I wrote down extensive lists, my hand flying over the paper. I'd learned all this stuff the hard way.
I'd never had an easy go of it, really. I mean I had a crappy childhood, when I think about it, which I try not to. I learned how to stand up for myself and take care of myself young because my parents were absent either because of work or neglect and I took over the role of father figure for all four of my siblings - something that I never quite grew out of that irritates the crap out of them today.
I also wasn't exactly popular in school.
There was this one day when I was like nine or so, I remember literally running home from school so these older kids didn't pummel the hell out of me. We lived almost ten blocks from the school and I ran about eight of them before those kids caught up to me and smashed my face onto the lawn of some random person's house. By the time I got home, my nose was pouring blood like a fountain and my body was all sore and bruised. "What the hell happened to you?" my father demanded when I walked through the door.
"I got beat up," I answered.
He'd grabbed a beer out of the fridge and wandered back into the living room, grumbling about having a pussy for a son.
So standing up for myself was something that I had to learn, too. It wasn't easy. In fact, it usually resulted in me getting beat up worse than I would've if I'd kept my mouth shut. But I'd stood up for myself. I'd believed in myself.
It may not be applicable, I'm not sure, but I read this quote once by this dude Brian listens to on the radio. The talk was about martyrdom and all that type stuff, about standing up for what you believe in - in this guy and Brian's particular case it was Christianity. I dunno what I believe in really that way, I mean I lean towards Brian's beliefs, but I'm a lot more liberal about it and I question it more than he does. Anyways, I applied the quote and the talk, really, to my everyday life. To the things I believe in about life in general. So, anyways, the quote goes like this, "Today they will call you a fool; tomorrow they will call you a hero. So do the right thing, no matter what." And it's completely true.
I know, I've lived it.
People called us fools when we started dreaming up the Backstreet Boys. They called us fools until we made it, and then we were heros. We were the ones that didn't give up. Everyone suddenly "knew" we would make it. They suddenly all believed they'd been behind us 100% of the way.
The fact is, the five of us and Lou Pearlman stood alone for a really long time on that belief, being called fools because we were believing in the impossible.
So yeah, I've learned to stand up for myself the hard way, and jail was just another place where my heart had to harden itself to survive without shattering. I was scared beyond reason, but I showed nobody that. I'd eventually show Brian and Kayla and Zoe, because those were people I was okay with being vulnerable with, but nobody here would ever know.
Except maybe Eric because I would tell him.
It just felt really good to be able to help someone with the knowledge that I'd learned over the years. It felt amazing to be able to be something to someone when I was so far down myself. It just goes to show you that no matter how lowly or humbled or broken you are... you can always do something.
"One of the most important parts of this whole thing, Eric, is your attitude towards them," I explained the next day. We were in the yard again at a picnic table we'd snatched, both of us smoking. I was sitting at the table normally, my elbows bracing my chin, while Eric lay across the tabletop, staring up at the clouds moving through the blue sky. "You gotta remember they're just a bunch of fuck-ups, too. I mean really everybody is a fuck-up, you know? We all make mistakes. We're human."
Eric looked at me and nodded, "Some of us have it better than others," he said.
"Maybe," I answered.
"Like you, for instance," he said.
The words surprised me, "Me?"
Eric nodded. "Yeah. You got it better than I do. You're gonna be out of here in like a week and I'm gonna be here the rest of my life."
"You'll get out," I answered, "And when you do you can come find me."
Eric laughed, "I'll never get out of here." He sat up and hugged his knees to his chest. "I'm convinced I'll die in here."
I looked up at him, "Stop that."
Eric shrugged, "It's only the truth, Nick."
"Why do you think you're gonna die in here?"
He took a drag off his cigarette. "As much as I love the idea that what you're teaching me is gonna change things... I know it's not going to entirely. Eventually those guys are gonna kill me."
My heart slowed. I stared at Eric as he tilted his head back and let the smoke come pouring out of his mouth. He was so resigned to it. "They can't kill you," I said.
"Sure they could," he said.
"Look... Eric..." I got up on and sat next to him on the tabletop. "You gotta believe in yourself and in your abilities to stand up for yourself. You aren't gonna get killed by those guys, those guys are just a bunch of assholes."
"Let's face it, we're all here 'cos we've killed someone," Eric said, "Well, except you and maybe a couple others that could've been falsely accused. But these guys, they weren't falsely accused. One of them is here because he hung a gay kid in somewhere in the southeast. Like Florida or Georgia or something."
"They aren't gonna kill you," I said. "They can't. There's cops all over in here."
"You know that all the cops would look away if they tried."
"That's fucking sick," I said, shaking my head.
Eric shrugged. "It's not like anyone would notice or even give a shit if I was killed," he said, putting out his cigarette, pushing the end into the picnic table and swirling it as though he had revenge to seek from it. The butt twisted and bent and the ash darkened the tabletop.
"I'd care," I declared.
Eric looked up.
"They can keep their fucking hands off you, and I'll do whatever I can when I get out of here to get you out of here. You don't belong here anymore than I do. You should be up for parole or something, Eric. What you did... you were in a blind rage. Anyone would be if their lover was with someone else."
I thought of what I'd do to any guy that I caught with Kayla.
It would not be pretty.
Eric stared at me. "You know, I've seen you on TV and stuff. I was a fan of the Backstreet Boys." He paused. "You never struck me as someone who would..." he shook his head, cutting off and looked away.
"Who would what?" I asked.
"Who would give a fuck about me," Eric said. "You always seemed so... like you wouldn't give someone like me the time of day before. Like someone like me would've been a nuisance, not a friend."
I shrugged, "I've changed in the past few months."
Eric shifted so he was facing me, straddling the tabletop. "You're really amazing, Nick," he said solemnly.
I turned and put out my own cigarette in the ashtray built into the edge of the table, then turned back to look at him. The moment my face turned towards him, Eric had leaned forward and laid a kiss on my face, on my cheek, by the corner of my mouth.
He pulled back, looking stunned.
I closed my eyes and swallowed, trying to keep from freaking out on him for violating my unspoken code of not doing anything like that.
Eric jumped up, "Shit. I'm sorry." He turned and bolted away.
I rubbed the back of my hand across my face, wiping away the feeling of his mouth there and sighed.
"Ohhh, I see Eric got a new boyfriend," crooned one of the guys that was the focus of the lessons I was giving Eric. He laughed as he approached the table. I slid down off the tabletop and shook my head, walking away. "Careful, I hear he has AIDs," the guy laughed.
I turned around. "Shut the fuck up." I said in my coldest, harshest voice, "Or I will fucking make you shut the fuck up." I gave the guy my hardest stare. "And don't think for a fucking second that you would win that fight."
The guy laughed, "C'mon man, you're a Backstreet Boy. How tough can you be?"
"I'm here, aren't I?" I asked.
He hesitated.
I turned and walked away, headed toward the building.
"You can't protect him forever," called the guy. "Eventually we're gonna catch up to him."
I paused and looked back. "If you lay a finger on him," I vowed, "I will make sure you never get out of this place."
