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Chapter Four


Nick and I had gotten up, and dragged our luggage into the room from the hallway. He'd packed the basketball in his suitcase, and once we'd gotten the ball and our coats out of the suitcases, we opened our hotel room door and peeked into the hall. The coast seemed clear. I motioned for him to be quiet, and he nodded. We snuck into the hallway and I carefully closed the door behind us so it didn't make more than a muted click as it shut. We moved carefully down the hall to the stairwell. Once the door was shut behind us and we were on our way down the concrete steps, Nick turned to look at me, the ball tucked under his arm. "Dude we're like stealth."

"We really are," I laughed.

Nick bounced the ball on the landing and caught it, and we started down a second flight. "I can't believe we're like about to do this, all like alone and stuff."

"We are grown ups," I pointed out.

"Yeah but I don't remember the last time we wandered out of a hotel room without like fifty security thugs flanking us, do you?" he asked.

"Or at least Kevin on our tails telling us why it's a bad idea." Nick laughed and bounced the ball again on the next landing.

When we reached the lobby, Nick and I passed quick glances at the gaggle of fans that were waiting by the elevators, looking sleepy. They must've been damn near passed out because we managed to skitter by before they noticed us. Outside, the city air was fresher than most cities, and held a cold chill that made our breath show. It was funny because everyone kept saying how Canada was having its second midlest winter on the books (in fact, I'd heard one guy on the news when I was flipping through refer to it as a 'winter drought' because they'd received less snow than they usually did) and they were all bragging how warm it was compared to what it was supposed to be. Personally, I was freezing the moment I stepped off the plane.

A taxi cab went by as Nick stopped at the curb, the ball still under his arm, and glanced both directions. "What way you think?" he asked.

I didn't have a clue. The Molson Center was to our left, though, and I couldn't recall having passed anything that looked like a basket ball hoop, so I suggested we go right. Nick was good with that, so we took off down the street, Nick dribbling the ball awkwardly as he walked. Every once in awhile he'd miss and we'd have to chase back after it a couple yards or so, where it stuck in the snow that lined the sidewalk, before we could continue onward. "This is great," he commented.

"Yeah," I agreed.

We'd reached St.Catherine's Street. I glanced left and right. Neon lights lit up closed stores and smoke poured up from the warm street into the cold. Even with our jackets, the air was nipping and I wasn't sure how great of an idea basket ball at one o'clock in the morning in Montreal on a night in December was shaping out to be after all, but Nick's enthusiasm had yet to wane, so I just followed him as we turned right down the street and kept walking. We pointed stuff out in the windows as he dribbled and I walked and the occassional car passed by us.

We'd been walking for quite some time when Nick suddenly announced, "My balls are gonna freeze off."

I stopped walking. "I'm so glad you said that first." I turned around and so did Nick. We started walking back toward the hotel without discussing the choice. Shooting hoops was not worth becoming eunichs for, it was an unspoken agreement.

"I was hoping you would call it off, but when you didn't I decided I would," Nick admitted.

"We would've heated up if we started playing," I pointed out.

"Maybe they don't believe in hoops in Montreal," Nick suggested.

"Maybe."

"If there was more ice I'd say we should play hockey."

"We don't have skates. Or sticks. Or a puck."

"True."

We walked along shivering for a few minutes. Now that we'd let the cat out of the bag, we were both shivering loudly; Nick's teeth even chattered. "How the hell far did we walk?" he asked.

"I dunno," I replied.

We had gone a couple more blocks in the direction we'd come from, when a police car pulled up in an empty parking spot alongside us. Nick glanced at me as the car window unrolled. "Is there a curfew here?" he asked quietly, suddenly panicked. It was a good question. Probably something we should've thought of before heading out.

"Pardon moi," the cop called.

I walked over to the open window, careful for the snow on the curb, and Nick followed, clutching the basketball. "Yes sir?" I asked, bending and looking into the window. Nick hovered awkwardly behind me.

The cop switched to English. "You kids out for a reason?" he asked, eyeing me.

I hesitated. "I'm sorry," I said, "Is there a curfew? We're from America."

"No curfew, but you do look a bit lost," he said. "Have you kids been drinking?"

"No sir," I replied.

"Me either," Nick said hurriedly, "I'm only seventeen. I haven't been drinking." The way he said it, he sounded guilty. I closed my eyes. Great, now the cop was gonna jump out and arrest him for underage drinking or something. Nick had this way of confessing his wrongdoings himself without really being accused of anything. He'd probably had a beer or something with dinner earlier.

The cop eyed Nick, but he decided not to let it go. "What are you two up to?"

"We were going to shoot some hoops, sir, but changed our mind. We were on our way back to the hotel," I said. Nick held his ball aloft for the cop to see.

"Basket ball in the middle of the night?" he asked, suspicious.

"Well, It's hard for us to get away to do it during the day, see, without..." I paused. I leaned closer, "Well, fans, sir."

The cop leaned over and looked at us closer. "You're the Backstreet Boys," he said, recognizing us.

"Yes sir," I nodded.

He laughed. "My daughters will be very jealous of me when I tell them this." He thumbed to the backseat. "Hop in, I'll bring you back to the hotel."

Nick nudged me, so I opened the back door and climbed in, followed by Nick, who held the ball between his knees as we buckled up and the cop pulled into the street. He asked us some questions about the tour, which we answered, and he said that his daughters had tickets. Nick told him he should talk to our security guy and bring his daughters backstage before the show, and the cop's excitement over the idea was evident. We got his business card to give to security so he could get access, when the cop pulled up in front of the hotel. He let us out after Nick and I both signed some blank pieces of paper for his daughters - one for each of them. "Thanks again," I said as we climbed out of the car and the cop waved us farewell, laughing to himself.

The fans noticed us this time. I guess something about getting a police escort was more noticable than sneaking by quietly. Nick held the ball under his arm and we signed a few CDs and pin ups for the fans and did a couple pictures, then took the elevator upstairs before anymore fans could materialize. They had a way of appearing out of no where.

"I'm still cold," Nick whined.

"It was pretty damn cold out," I agreed.

The elevator doors slid opened on the fourth floor and we were greeted by two irritated looking bodyguards. Kevin was just coming out of our hotel room down the hall. He spotted us in the open elevator and his eyebrow seemed to darken.

"Where in the hell were you two?" he demanded, turning.

"Crap." Nick's fist punched the down button on the elevator.

"What're you doing?" I asked as the door closed. Kevin was walking towards us.

"Escaping," Nick replied.

The elevator began it's descent.

I sneezed.

Nick laughed. "We're probably gonna end up with like herpes or something from this."

"Herpes is a sex disease," I said, "I don't think we'll get it from walking around at night. Maybe a cold."

The elevator doors opened on the third floor and we both dove out and into the hall. We walked along the ugly carpet for a couple minutes. "Now what?" Nick asked.

"This was your plan," I reminded him.

"Well it's not like I thought about what we were doing," he laughed. "I just was getting away from that beastly glare we were getting."

"You know he's gonna catch that elevator and come looking for us," I pointed out.

We decided to duck into the vending machine room so he wouldn't be able to spot us the moment the elevator doors opened. We each deposited some change and got some candy and soda and sat down on the floor. We started trading M&M colors and chatting. It didn't take long before we'd fallen into one of our usual discussions about who would win in a one-on-one fight, Spiderman or Batman.

"It's no contest," Nick was saying, "Spiderman's got his webs."

"Batman could cut through the webs," I said.

"With what?"

"He could just extend his bat wings and the web would break," I said.

"Spidey's webs are unbreakable," Nick argued, "They're like super glue."

"No they aren't, people break out of spidey's webs all the time," I said.

Nick popped a red M&M into his mouth and contemplated this. "Maybe they wouldn't fight," he said, shrugging.

"Well they're both fictional," I pointed out. "And they live in two different universes. You know, DC and Marvel."

Nick nodded thoughtfully.

"Bats eat spiders," I said after a pause.

"DUDE," Nick's eyes were wide, "That's called canibalism!"

"I'm just saying."

We were quiet for a moment. Then Nick asked, "You're sure you wouldn't forget about me if you get married?"

"Why would I forget about you?"

Nick shrugged, "I dunno because you'd be all busy with Boo--" he paused. "Leighanne, and not have time for me anymore." He poked the M&Ms he had lined up on his pant leg.

"Thank you for using her actual name," I said.

"Yeah, yeah," Nick answered.

"And I wouldn't forget you. I promise." I reached over and stole a brown M&M from his leg. "I'll always have time for you, Frack. You're my best friend in the whole world." I smiled. "You get me."

Nick grinned. "You get me too." He paused, "But if you touch my brown M&Ms again, I'm gonna have to break your neck. Seriously."

I leaned back against the vending machine and coughed. The cough hurt, and I grimmaced and rubbed my chest. Nick sighed, shoved the last of his M&Ms into his mouth, and hugged his knee to his chest as much as his round stomach would allow him to anyways. "Think Kevin's asleep yet?" he asked.

I shrugged. Kevin was the type that would sit in our room and wait until we had the balls to show back up again. "Might as well go see," I said. "I wonder what time it is."

Nick shrugged, too. "I'm tired, though."

"Me too."

"And my throat's kinda scratchy. Think we really did get colds?"

"I dunno," I answered, "I guess we'll see tomorrow."

Nick laughed, "Kevin's gonna be ripped shit if we get sick, you know."

"I'm aware," I replied.

We stood up and started down the hall to the elevator. Nick hit the up button then turned to me. "I'm glad you found someone you like enough to get married to," he said.

"Me, too," I replied.

Nick nodded and we got on the elevator. Upstairs, we tip-toed to our room and Nick slipped the keycard into the slot and we opened the door to find Kevin sitting in the chair by the desk, exactly where I'd half-expected to find him, his fingertips pressed together as he sat in wait of our return, giving us the Dirty Brow.

Nick turned to me. "Who would win in a battle to the death? Spiderman, Batman, or Kevin?"

"I would," Kevin replied darkly. "Hands down."