That day, his session went exceptionally well. Now that he could walk fairly well on flat surfaces, he was progressing to more difficult tasks, like stairs and hills. Both were terrifying, and Nick hated constantly feeling like he was going to lose his balance and fall.
“Will it always be like this?” he asked Susan at the end of the session. “I mean, will I ever be able to walk totally normal, or will I always be kind of unsteady?”
“You’ll keep improving and developing a more natural gait,” promised Susan, “and once you have your permanent prosthesis, that will help a lot. Whether you will ever be able to walk ‘totally normal’ or not will depend on what kind of prosthesis you end up getting and how well you adapt to it. And speaking of that, even though it’s still too early for you to be fit for your prosthesis, it’s not too early to start looking into your options. Have you done any research of your own into the different kinds of prosthetics?”
“Um... no?”
Susan laughed at the expression on his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you in contact with a prosthetist who will help you decide what would work best for you.” She paused, then added, “You probably haven’t heard of the C-Leg then, have you?”
“The C-Leg?” Nick repeated. “No. What’s that?”
“It’s the newest and the best in above-knee prosthetics. It’s a computer-controlled leg.”
Nick raised an eyebrow and looked on skeptically. “Computer-controlled?”
“Mm-hm,” Susan nodded. “It contains sensors that detect different things – how much weight you’re putting on the leg, the angle of the knee joint, the speed of your swing – and this information is sent to a microprocessor that’s actually inside the leg, and it reads the information. The result is that you get more stability and a more natural step.”
About half of what she said went right over Nick’s head, but he perked up in interest at her last sentence. “Really?”
“Yes. I’ve seen people use them firsthand; they’re very cool. They’re one of the more ‘active’ prostheses – you can run on them, et cetera.” Nick’s eyes widened in surprise and almost disbelief, as an image of him jogging up and down a basketball court flickered in his mind. Added Susan, “I know a few prosthetists who are qualified to fit patients with the C-Leg, so I can definitely get you in contact with them when the time is right.”
Nick nodded. “That would be cool,” he murmured.
When he walked out of the physical therapy room a few minutes later, his spirits were higher than they had been in days. He had a long way to go, but things were looking up. And when he walked out into the bright Florida sunshine and waited for Howie to pull his car around, he was flooded with an emotion he had not felt in quite some time.
Hope.
***
When Nick and Howie returned home, AJ was waiting for them. “Management called,” he announced flatly the moment the two had set foot inside.
“Management called?” Howie repeated. “What did they want?” Nick kept silent, but he had a pretty good idea of what management wanted.
“Wanted to know what was up with us, how Nick was...” AJ trailed off and rolled his eyes. “And they wanna know when we plan to pick up where we left off.”
Howie frowned. “And what exactly does that mean?”
“It means when are we going to get back to our career, to the Backstreet Boys. They want us to shoot a video for the second single. Our first single retired on TRL like three months ago, and they oh-so-kindly reminded me that if we don’t get another video out there soon, people will start to forget about us.” He rolled his eyes again.
“What did you tell them?” wondered Howie.
“I told them to fuck off,” answered AJ with a smug smirk.
“AJ! You didn’t...”
AJ grinned. “Nah, I didn’t. Well, I didn’t say ‘fuck off’ anyway. But I did tell them that there’s no way we’d even consider shooting a video now, and that-“
“They’re right though, you know,” Nick interrupted quietly. “We do need to do another video.”
AJ and Howie both looked at him in surprise. “Well, we will eventually, Nicky,” said Howie. “But not until you’re ready. It can wait.”
“Well, maybe I am ready,” Nick blurted, his tone almost defiant. Howie obviously didn’t think he was up to shooting a video yet. Well, why not? He could walk now, couldn’t he? The second single was going to be one of the ballads off the album; it wasn’t like the video would include any dancing or anything like that. He could stand there and lip sync; that didn’t require two good legs. And if he wore pants, maybe it wouldn’t even be obvious that...
“Really?” Howie asked, eyebrows raised, and AJ was staring incredulously at him.
Nick frowned and looked away from their skeptical faces. They didn’t think he could do it. Then again, maybe he couldn’t do it. Maybe it was too soon; maybe he wasn’t ready. “I dunno,” he mumbled, shrugging off his previous comment. “I’m gonna go to my room.”
“Nick, wait,” AJ interjected, grabbing Nick’s arm as he started off in the direction of his bedroom. His movement wasn’t forceful, but it was enough to startle Nick and throw him off balance. AJ quickly caught Nick as he started to fall and steadied him. “You alright?” he asked, as Nick wobbled.
“I’m fine!” Nick snapped. “Don’t touch me.”
AJ dropped his hands quickly, as if they’d been burnt by Nick’s skin. He did, in fact, look rather hurt. “Sorry,” he murmured an apology. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that; I just-“ He stopped and looked Nick right in the eye. “Were you serious about the video thing, dawg? Cause if you’re ready, you know we’re game.”
Nick shrugged again. “I dunno,” he said a second time. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
AJ and Howie exchanged perplexed looks. “Okay,” they both said.
Without another word, Nick continued on to his room, and this time, no one stopped him. As he shut the door behind him and walked slowly over to his bed, he looked down at his feet, painfully aware of how stiff and awkward he looked when he walked. He reached the bed and sank down upon it in relief. With a sigh, he absently combed his fingers through his hair, his heart sinking as he felt the strands slide out of his scalp and looked at the fine blonde locks he was now holding. Of course. He’d almost forgotten. Even though he’d quit chemo, the side effects wouldn’t go away instantaneously, and he had a bad feeling his hair would keep thinning until more grew in.
With a puff of air, he blew the loose strands away and lay back on his bed. He stayed like that for a long time, flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling and realizing how unready he really was. Who was he kidding? Shoot a video? Now? Looking the way he was, all pale and weak and going bald, and walking like Forrest Gump in his leg braces, knowing that people could yell “Run, Nick, run!” as much as they wanted and it still wouldn’t cure him? Yeah right. He couldn’t do a music video with the guys any more than he could take off running.
Out of the blue, Susan’s words from earlier that morning returned to him. “They’re one of the more ‘active’ prostheses – you can run on them, et cetera.”
A faint spark of the hope he had felt earlier rekindled, and his lips twitched with the hint of a smile. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready yet. But soon, he would be.
***
Nick spent a great deal of the rest of the day, as he did most days, shut up in his bedroom, watching TV and aimlessly playing video games. The games, which he’d once loved obsessively, now seemed silly and pointless and served only to distract him from his problems. The stupid TV shows he watched were the same. Some days, he would sit and stare glassy-eyed at the television screen for hours at a time, hardly moving. Other days, he would be restless and antsy, sick of being cooped up in the house most of the time, yet lacking the nerve to just venture out into public.
His mood had been fluctuating that day, jumping from the high hopefulness of that morning to low feelings of worthlessness and self-pity. His games and TV shows did little to distract him from the flurries of thoughts gusting through his mind, and when he came upon MTV over the course of channel-surfing and found an episode of “Making the Video” on, it only got worse.
All day, he had been fighting an internal battle over the Backstreet Boys’ management’s request that they make a music video for the second single from their latest album, and as MTV brought the topic of debate up yet again, the battle came to a head. With a click of the remote, Nick turned off the TV, sending the room into silence. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples wearily, thinking.
He flashed back to his brief conversation with AJ and Howie earlier, when AJ had delivered the message from management. Again, he heard AJ saying how he had told management there was no way they could shoot a video now... Howie assuring Nick they would do one ‘when he was ready.’ Again, he saw the expressions on their faces... shock, that he would even consider doing a video and making his ‘comeback’ so soon... doubt, that he was truly ready for such a thing.
But there had been something else there too, Nick realized. Hope, maybe? Anticipation? Desire?
When AJ had looked right at him and asked if he was serious, Nick had seen the emotion in his eyes. There was a certain fire there, a hopefulness that Nick would say yes, a longing to get back to doing the thing that he loved, that they all loved. Singing. Performing. Clearly, though he would never admit it to Nick, AJ missed it. Probably, they all did. Nick knew he did. It was almost agonizingly hard to think about getting up onstage and singing in front of a venue of screaming fans again, but when it came down to it, that’s what he wanted to do. How could he go on with his life without singing again, when singing was his life?
It was becoming very clear to him now. He wanted his career back. He wanted to continue with the Backstreet Boys, wanted to perform again. He didn’t know how his predicament would affect the group’s popularity, whether or not the leagues of young fans that had once practically worshipped him would still admire him or not. But he did know that if the Boys wanted to continue in the music business, they were going to have to get back to work, and soon. After such a lengthy hiatus between “Black and Blue” and “Phoenix,” they couldn’t afford to be out of the scene again so soon. The hype over the album and its first single had long since faded. It was time to bounce back with a second single, and a video to go with it. Management knew it, and Nick knew it too.
The thought of getting in front of a camera terrified him to an extent, for he knew a video shoot would maximize his self-consciousness. But sooner or later, he would have to do it. Sooner or later, he would have to go public and stop hiding in his house, feeling sorry for himself. Sooner or later, he would have to get out of bed and back on stage and on with his life. It had been over two months, and physically, he had healed. Emotionally, he was still fragile, but the only way to get over his insecurities would be to face them. And better sooner than later, right?
Filled with resolve, he sat up and scooted to the edge of his bed, prepared to get up and go tell Howie and AJ that he did want to shoot a video, maybe not right away, but sometime in the next month or two. He knew that once again, they would be skeptical. “Are you sure?” they would ask, Howie’s eyes large with concern, AJ practically quivering in anticipation, secretly hoping that this time, Nick would be sure. And Nick would answer yes... I’ve been thinking about it all day, and believe me, this is what I want.
Unexpectedly, that thought placed a pair of very familiar lyrics in his mind, and before he realized what he was doing, Nick had begun to sing very softly, almost under his breath.
“Believe when I say
I want it that way.”
He paused, smirking to himself. He did this often, started singing song lyrics that would pop into his head when triggered by a thought or something somebody said. Or at least he used to do it often. But it had been a long time since he’d sung anything. Even just singing softly along to a CD or the radio was rare nowadays, so he had just surprised himself. And that song too... “I Want it That Way.” It held a lot of memories, that one did. A lot of nostalgia. To Nick, it represented a time when the Backstreet Boys were on top, when his life was good, when the whole group was happy and healthy and reveling in their worldwide success. It had been just over five years since that time, but with all that had occurred since, it felt like an eternity. Still, the song invoked a good feeling in Nick, a hope that maybe someday they would once again have what they had had five years ago. Success... but more importantly, happiness and health.
With a wistful sigh, Nick found himself continuing the song, launching into his own verse, singing the words he had not sung for a long time, probably not since the “Now or Never” tour almost a year and a half earlier, when he’d worked part of “I Want It That Way,” along with “Quit Playing Games” and “Shape of My Heart,” into his show as an ode to the Boys.
“But we are two worlds apart
Can’t reach to your heart
When you say
That I want it that way.”
“Tell me why,” he sang on, his rusty voice strengthening. “Ain’t nothin’ but a heartache, tell me why...” And as he went on, he became aware of a muffled pair of voices joining his. “Ain’t nothin’ but a mistake.”
Shocked, Nick jumped up so quickly that he nearly toppled over, having almost forgotten about his leg. He quickly got his balance and hurried across the room, flinging open his bedroom door to find both AJ and Howie standing there, silly grins alighting their faces.
“Could you hear me?” Nick asked in shock, his face reddening.
“The living room’s right there, it didn’t have far to go,” said AJ, his grin spreading. “Your voice carries well in this house though.” He looked around admiringly. “Good acoustics.”
“Yeah,” Nick said dryly, remembering how he’d overheard an entire conversation between the two of them while in the bathroom.
“We didn’t mean to bother you,” Howie apologized sincerely, although his eyes were sparkling, and the smile on his face refused to leave. “AJ started singing along first.”
“Hey, don’t blame me! You joined right in, didn’t you?” AJ shot back, his own grin also seemingly permanent. They both looked thrilled, but Nick only felt embarrassed. “Why’d you stop, dude? I was getting into it! Tell me why,” he went on with the song, and Howie immediately jumped back in on the next line. “I never wanna hear you say...” They both paused, looking expectantly at Nick, who, trying to hide his smile, gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes and then finished softly, “I want it that way.”
“Dude, that was cheesy,” he said, but found himself swallowing back a lump that had risen in his throat.
Howie cleared his own throat and joked, “Is it time for a group hug, guys?”
Nick grinned and backed away. “No,” he said, “but it is time for us to shoot another video. I think I’m ready. Maybe not right away, but soon. Definitely by July.”
Howie smiled, and AJ hit Nick’s back lightly. “That’s great, dude,” he said, his voice gruff. Glancing from Nick to Howie, he asked, “So, who wants to do the honors?”
“What honors?” asked Howie.
AJ grinned. “The honors of calling up Rok and Kev and telling them that Backstreet’s back.”
Snickering, Nick teasingly slugged AJ in the shoulder. “Now that was really cheesy. Gosh, that sounded almost like something Howie would say.”
“Hey!” Howie cried in mock offense. “I’m standing right here, you know!”
“Yeah, why are you? Go get on the phone with Kev, would you?” AJ ordered, giving Howie a playful shove.
“Yeah,” Nick echoed, meeting AJ’s gleaming eyes. As Howie went off to get the phone, they called after him in unison, “And tell him that Backstreet’s back!”
***
