Howie checked his watch. “It’s... 11:30.”
“Really?” Nick yawned again. “It feels way earlier.”
“Well, technically,” put in AJ, “it’s only... 8:30? Yeah, 8:30. Don’t forget we’re on Pacific time now.”
Nick groaned. “Why did we have to leave so early? Couldn’t we have taken an afternoon flight or something?”
“What, and get recognized and mobbed in the middle of the airport? I told you, I got us the earliest flight possible so that the airport wouldn’t be so crowded,” Howie explained.
“Well, a lot of good that did; it wasn’t so busy back in Florida, but it’s pretty damn crowded here,” Nick commented, looking around the bustling Los AngelesInternationalAirport.
“I know, so quit your yapping, and let’s go,” AJ said in a low voice. Escorted by a trio of burly bodyguards, the three Backstreet Boys made their way through the airport as quickly as possible, which was not really all that fast, with Nick struggling to keep up as it was. They had just landed in Los Angeles, and although they had not made it public knowledge that they would be in town to shoot a video that week, they were wary of being spotted by fans. They weren’t taking any chances, for Nick was in no condition to outrun a pack of wild girls. The bodyguards kept close, hurrying them along to the nearest exit, where they would be met by a driver hired to take them to Kevin’s house.
The three of them, plus Brian, who would be arriving shortly after they did, had opted to stay all together at Kevin’s LA home, rather than dealing with the hassles of a hotel. The video shoot itself wouldn’t start until the next day, Thursday, but they had decided to fly in on Wednesday and give themselves an extra day to just hang out, rest, and catch up. Nick, Howie, and AJ had not actually seen Kevin and Brian since they had both left Tampa back in April, so it had been almost three months since the five of them had been together. With all that had happened, that felt like much too long, and they were all anxious to see each other again.
Nick sighed in relief when they made it outside and felt even more relieved when he climbed into the black van that had pulled up in front of them, escaping the smoggy heat. He sank down into one of the two middle seats, while AJ and Howie squeezed into the very back. The three bodyguards dispersed through the vehicle, one sitting up front beside the driver, one sitting in the other middle seat next to Nick, and the third crowding in the back seat with AJ and Howie.
Breathless from all the hurrying, Nick rested the side of his face against the cool, tinted glass of the window and savored the air conditioning that was blasting right at him.
“You okay, Nick?” Howie asked, leaning between the two middle seats and looking over at Nick.
“Yeah, I’m good,” replied Nick, although his stump was hurting like hell. Whether it was because it had stiffened up during the five-hour flight or because of all the walking he had just done through the airport – or maybe a combination of both – it was throbbing quite uncomfortably. But this was just not something one announced to a van full of people, so he tried to ignore it, figuring the pain would go away soon. It always did. He often had aches and pains that came and went, and sometimes he still got phantom sensations, where it felt like his real leg was still there. But the feelings never lasted long, and none of them even compared to the agonizing pain he’d experienced that first week following the surgery.
Howie sat back, and Nick closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain in his leg and the sounds of the LA traffic around him. When he opened them again, the congested freeway had been replaced by a quiet boulevard lined on both sides by sweeping, lush green lawns and sprawling mansions, spaced far apart. Blinking, he realized he must have dozed off. They were already almost to Kevin’s place.
The van turned into a long driveway and slowly drove down it, pulling up in front of Kevin’s beautiful home. As the van came to a stop, doors slid open, and passengers climbed out. Or stumbled out, in Nick’s case. Leaning up against the van, he rubbed his quad, trying to get the stiff muscles to loosen up. He heard a door open and close and looked up to see Kevin emerge from the house. Kevin came jogging down the two steps that sloped gently up to his doorstep and cut across his perfectly manicured, magnificently landscaped lawn to meet them.
AJ and Howie came up alongside Nick, and Kevin stopped before the three of them, beaming. “Hey, you made it,” he said, leaning forward to hug each of them in turn. “You look great, kiddo,” he whispered as he gave Nick a brotherly bear hug. “I’m so glad to see you up and about again.”
“Well, I’m glad to be up and about again,” Nick said lightly, patting Kevin’s back. “How you doin’, old man?”
Kevin pulled back and surveyed him with a smirk. “Well, you know, it’s tough being so old and all, but I’m doin’ alright. It’s good to have you back, kid.” He tapped Nick’s shoulder and took a step back. “Well, c’mon fellas, let’s head inside. Kris is finishing up brunch, and as soon as Bri gets here, we can eat. I’m sure y’all are hungry.”
“I am,” Nick realized, his stomach rumbling. They’d been served breakfast on the flight, but he had not eaten much of his. Some things never changed, and his detestation of plane food was one of them.
Kevin hurried ahead as Nick, AJ, and Howie walked along the curving cement walkway that wound up to the front door. As they neared the steps leading to the small front porch, Nick stopped suddenly. “Uh, Kev? What is that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. Kevin was struggling with a wide piece of plywood that had been lying on the lawn.
“This,” Kevin grunted, easing the plywood down over the steps, “is a ramp.” He bent down to straighten the large board so that it was positioned just right and then stood back, inspecting his work. Glancing over at Nick, he added, “You know, so you can get up the stairs. I sawed it down to size myself. It’s a little wobbly, but if we hold it, you should be able to-“
“Uh, Kev?” Nick said again. “I can get up steps. Especially those steps.” He eyed the two wide steps, trying not to laugh. “In fact, steps are probably easier than a ramp.”
The proud grin left Kevin’s face. “Oh,” he said, shifting his weight in embarrassment. “Sorry, Nick. I-I wasn’t sure...”
“Hey, it’s okay, dude,” Nick said quickly. “Just letting you know. Thanks for thinking of me though.” He offered Kevin a smile, which Kevin returned.
“Well, in that case,” said Kevin, sliding the makeshift ramp back off of the steps, “come on inside.”
The four men made their way into the house, where they were met by Kevin’s wife Kristin, who was looking rather frazzled, her hair falling out of the loose bun she’d pulled it into, her clothes stained with wet spots of something and streaked with white powder, probably flour.
“Hi, guys!” she said rather shrilly. “Come on in! Sorry I look like such a mess; I’ve been cooking.” She smiled sheepishly and added, “I’m going to go change. Go have a seat in the living room, and Kev, could you go check on the casserole? It should be about ready to come out of the oven.” She darted upstairs, and Kevin chuckled.
“Go on and sit down. I’ll be there in a minute,” he said, heading into the kitchen.
Nick, Howie, and AJ went into the spacious living room and sat down together on a wide couch. Kevin came in two minutes later, and after another ten minutes had gone by, they were joined by Kristin, who had transformed from messy to pretty and perfectly put-together.
“Ah, that’s better,” she sighed. “Now I can give you guys a hug without getting you all gross.” Smiling, the three men rose from the couch. Kristin came over and hugged Howie, then AJ, and finally Nick. “You look really good, Nick,” she said as she embraced him gingerly and stepped back to look at him, her eyes focusing on anything but his left leg, like a child who had been told not to stare.
“You too, Kris,” he replied. “It’s been awhile, eh?”
“Yes... yes, it sure has.” Kristin smiled around the room. “It’s so nice to have you all here.”
“Well, thanks for having us,” Howie said politely.
“Oh, not a problem! We-“ But she was interrupted by the doorbell.
“Hey, maybe that’s Brian,” Kevin said, jumping up to answer it. “If it is, he’s early...” He disappeared into the foyer, and moments later, they heard him exclaim, “Hey, cuz!”
AJ chuckled. “That would be Brian. Yo B-Rok!”
Brian was all smiles when he came into the living room, tailed by Kevin. “Yo A-J!” he returned with a goofy grin. “Mornin’, y’all.” His eyes quickly scanned the room and found Nick. Nick smiled and rose easily, aided by the high, firm-cushioned sofa. Brian gave Kristin a hug and then made a beeline for Nick, pulling him into a tight hug. “Good to see ya, buddy,” he said, as he stepped back, holding Nick at an arm’s length. “You look real good!” He smiled as he reached up and lightly ruffled Nick’s hair. “And you got your leg. Let’s see that bad boy!”
With an almost nervous chuckle, Nick shyly lifted his pant leg just enough to expose the metallic shin of his prosthetic leg. Brian looked at it with interest. “Hey, that’s pretty cool,” he commented.
“This one’s only temporary,” explained Nick, feeling more self-assured now that Brian didn’t seem to be bothered by his situation. “I’m getting fit for a better one in about three weeks.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, and it’s gonna be some kind of computer-controlled one, right Nick?” interjected Howie.
“Yeah.”
“Computer-controlled?” Brian repeated. “I didn’t know they made stuff like that... that sounds pretty sweet.”
“Yeah, according to Nick’s physical therapist, he’ll be able to walk better with it and even jog... and stuff like that,” said Howie.
“Well, what did I tell ya, Nick?” Kevin spoke up. “I told you that you were going to get through this and go on with your life... and now you are.”
“Aww, Kevin!” AJ cooed in a high-pitched, girlish voice. Then, dropping down to his normal low, raspy tone, he added, “Sorry to interrupt this Kodak moment, but Train, didn’t you say we could eat as soon as Brian got here? Cause I’m starving!”
“Me too,” Nick added quickly, a little uncomfortable with all the attention he was getting.
Kevin laughed. “Well, let’s go eat then!”
***
The Boys spent the rest of the day just hanging out at Kevin’s house and went to bed early, knowing they would have to get up at five o’clock the next morning in order to get to the video shoot on time. But despite turning in early, Nick didn’t fall asleep until very late. He lay awake for hours, anticipating the shoot. Earlier that day, laughing and joking with the rest of the group, he had felt excited, but now the excitement had worn off, and he was just very nervous. How would he do tomorrow? Would his performance be up to par, or would he come to realize that his expectations were just too far out of reach? What would Nigel think? And more importantly, what would the fans think, when the video was ready for release?
Questions like these poured through his mind all night, and by the time he finally managed to fall asleep, he only had a few hours before it was time to get up again. It felt like he had just closed his eyes when Kevin woke him up at ten after five in the morning. He showered quickly and got dressed, not bothering to put much effort into his appearance that morning. He knew the makeup artists and stylists on set would take care of that later.
He was the last one to enter the kitchen, where Kevin, Brian, AJ, and Howie were scarfing down a quick breakfast. Kevin jumped up immediately when he saw Nick come in. “Hey, there you are,” he said. “What do you want to eat? Cereal, toast-“
“Pop-tart?” Brian interjected with a grin, holding up the chocolate chip one he was eating and giving it a little shake. It fell apart in his hands, leaving them covered in sticky chocolate goo.
Nick forced a laugh. “Nah... I’m not real hungry,” he answered truthfully. His stomach was already so filled with butterflies that he didn’t think he could eat a thing.
“You should eat something,” said Kevin, just as Nick knew he would. “You’ll need the energy.”
“They always have food on set,” countered Nick. “I can eat later.”
“Okay,” Kevin said without protest, dropping the issue. Relieved, Nick sat down with the others and waited while they finished eating.
Fifteen minutes later, they were on the road, divided between the two luxury SUV’s their record company had sent to pick them up. Nick rode with Kevin and Brian in one, while Howie and AJ traveled in the other.
“You alright, Nick?” Kevin asked, about halfway through the ride.
“Yeah,” answered Nick, who had hardly said anything else so far. “Why?”
“You’re just bein’ real quiet. You nervous?”
“No,” Nick lied automatically, then changed his mind. “Yes.”
“Well, make up your mind, Carter,” Brian joked.
“It’s okay to be nervous,” said Kevin. “But don’t worry; you’re gonna be fine. Just work hard and try your best... but don’t push yourself too hard. It hasn’t even been four months yet, after all. I don’t want you to strain yourself. You know, I’m not even sure it was a good idea to do this so soon... maybe we should have waited...” He trailed off, now sounding totally perplexed.
Nick rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh. The man was totally contradicting himself. “Don’t worry, Kev; I’m gonna be fine,” Nick said cheerfully, repeating Kevin’s words. He only wished he could feel as confident as he sounded. He wasn’t at all worried about hurting himself or straining himself or whatever Kevin was worried about. He was more concerned about hurting the group, of thwarting their success. If this video shoot had to be delayed because it turned out he wasn’t ready, then that meant more waiting for the group, more time before they would be able to continue with their career. Time meant money, and he knew the record company wouldn’t like another huge delay. They were sympathetic to his plight, sure, but he knew they were also anxious about what was to become of one of their biggest moneymakers, the Backstreet Boys. They were always afraid that a long hiatus would cause the fans to lose interest, and the Boys had just come off of a three-year hiatus. So there was pressure to make a comeback as soon as impossible.
But at the same time, Nick supposed he should be glad they wanted the group to shoot a video. And really, he was. At least that meant the record company still believed in the Backstreet Boys, still thought they were worth being kept on board, despite what had happened to their young “heartthrob.” But it also concerned Nick. He looked at this video as a sort of test, a test whose results could possibly determine the fate of the Backstreet Boys. If the shoot did not go well, and the video did not meet certain standards, or if it was not accepted by the fans when it was released, it could be taken as a sign that Backstreet was over, that the group was never going to be as popular now that the member who had once attracted the most fans was not only a victim to cancer, but an amputee. And then... well, that could be it. They could be dropped from their label, and if no other companies thought they could make money off the Backstreet Boys, they would not be picked up again.
These were the thoughts and scenarios that had kept Nick awake the night before, and they were making him feel sick to his stomach right at that moment. Kevin, Brian, AJ, and Howie didn’t understand – they weren’t under any pressure. All they had to do was look good and perform as usual. The weight rested solely on Nick’s shoulders. He was the one who would be struggling, and it was up to him to do a good job. If he didn’t... the whole group could suffer.
Kevin’s voice brought Nick right out of his thoughts. “Did you hear what I said, Nick?” he was asking.
“Pay attention,” Brian snapped in the imitation of a strict grade school teacher, jabbing Nick in the ribs and grinning.
“Sorry, what?” Nick murmured, disoriented.
“I said, I know you’ll be fine, so don’t worry. You always put 110% into everything, and this is going to be no different. So just relax and enjoy it, okay?” Kevin smiled back at Nick from the front seat. Nick swallowed hard and forced a weak smile back. He knew Kevin was trying to reassure him and make him feel better, when in actuality, he was only making Nick feel worse. Kevin and the guys... they were all counting on him. They all believed in him. But he did not believe in himself, not really. He had when he’d agreed to this video, but now that he was actually there, in LA, on the way to the set, he half wished he could just back out. He could not bear the prospect of letting the guys down. It was true that he tried to put 110% into everything, at least everything related to his career. He was a hard worker, and although he was not a perfectionist like Kevin, his job was important to him, and he always strove to do his best when he was performing. But what if his best - even his 110% effort - just wasn’t good enough this time?
He did not have much longer to dwell on that grim possibility, for it was not long before their vehicle was slowing down in front of the studio at which they would be shooting the video. Looking out his window, Nick saw large tents set up and trailers parked all around the building. He swallowed nervously and took a deep breath, just as Brian sang out, “We’re he-ere!”
“I think I’m gonna throw up,” Nick muttered with a shuddering sigh.
Brian looked over at him in alarm, then realized he wasn’t serious. Smiling, he patted Nick’s good knee reassuringly and said, “Don’t freak out yet, bro. We’re gonna be right here with you, and Nigel said on the phone that we’d go at whatever pace you needed to. Everything’s going to be fine, and in the end, we’re gonna have ourselves a kick ass video. Okay?”
“Okay,” Nick said, forcing another smile. “Let’s go.”
Wishing he could just stay behind in the safety of the car, Nick dutifully climbed out. AJ and Howie’s vehicle had arrived minutes earlier, and they were already waiting for Nick, Brian, and Kevin.
“You guys ready?” asked AJ, hopping from one foot to the other, either from excitement or too much coffee.
“Yeah, we’re ready,” Kevin answered, glancing from Brian to Nick, who nodded unsurely.
“Good. Then let’s do this thing!”
As they walked onto the grounds, AJ leading the way, Nick shoved his hands in his pockets and crossed his fingers, silently praying that he would not let them down.
***
