“Thanks,” said Claire, smiling back. “I love yours too.”
“Thank you,” Leighanne replied, smoothing her hands over her own dress, a sophisticatedly simple black ensemble. Nick frowned, pulling at the collar of his shirt and blaming his discomfort on her. It was Leighanne who had decided to dress up for the VMAs first, so of course Brian had decided to wear a suit, and then Nick had bought Claire that dress, which meant, just like AJ had warned, that he, too, would need to dress up.
Brian and Nick were the only ones in suits, but the other three guys looked nice as well, dressed in shades of complimentary black and gray. These were the clothes they would be performing in later that night; they had decided that flashy stage clothes were not needed for their performance, which was meant to be low-key and intimate, even in RadioCityMusic Hall.
Kevin’s wife Kristin looked more casual – and comfortable – in a flowing pair of gray pants and a black top. She sat beside Kevin in the back of the fancy limo that was shuttling them through the packed streets of New York City, but made small talk with Leighanne and Claire. Claire had just met the two older women the day before, when they had flown in, but Nick thought they all seemed to be getting along pretty well.
“She’s darling, Nick,” Leighanne had said of Claire shortly after meeting her. “Make sure you hang on to her, okay? She’s a keeper.” She had smiled; Nick had scowled. He liked Brian’s wife all right, but the last thing he wanted was advice on his love life from her. He could pick out women for himself, thank you very much. (Even though he had to admit, he hadn’t done a very good job of it so far in life.)
It was now Kristin who was admiring the dress he had bought for Claire, ooh-ing and aah-ing over the beadwork on its bodice.
“I think it looks like a sun,” Nick spoke up. “You know, like the rays of the sun?”
“Yeah, it does,” Kristin nodded.
Grinning cheekily, Brian chimed in with the chorus of “You Are My Sunshine.” “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” he sang. “You make me happy when skies are gray... You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you... Please don’t take my sunshine away... What?” he stopped, when the guys began snickering. “Just warming up my voice!”
“Remind me never to get married,” AJ groaned. “It makes you even cheesier than before.”
“Nah, that’s just how Bri is,” cracked Howie, and they both laughed at Brian’s expense.
“Oh, y’all are just jealous cause you’re too pathetic to get dates to this thing,” said Nick with a smirk.
“Riiiiight. Didja hear that, D? The ‘Ladies Man’ over there thinks we’re jealous.” AJ rolled his eyes.
The banter kept up all the way to RadioCity, which was quite a good thing, for it helped to alleviate Nick’s nervousness. Unfortunately, the butterflies came back into his stomach in full force once he and the guys were backstage, and Claire was gone.
Everyone had decided it would be okay for Claire to sit in the audience, since no one would know who she was or who she had come with. Kristin and Leighanne, on the other hand, had to hide out backstage until it was time for the performance, since they faced the risk of being recognized and revealing the fact that the Backstreet Boys were there that night. Seven seats near the back of the house were being saved for them, for after the performance, the Boys and the wives would join Claire to watch the rest of the show.
Although surprise performances were often saved for the end of the show, the Boys were going to come out in the first half, which saved them from making pre-recorded acceptance speeches for all the categories they were nominated in, on the off chance they won. If they won a VMA, they wanted to be there, at the podium, to accept the award and say their thanks.
The show began, while the Boys remained in a secluded area backstage, hidden away from the various performers, presenters, and winners who came and went. They went through a few vocal warm-ups, and then it was just a matter of waiting for their time to come.
It was this waiting that was the hardest part. Nick tried to keep himself calm, taking slow, deep breaths, trying to clear his head, which was swarming with worst-case scenarios. What if he tripped and fell onstage? What if his voice shook or went flat? What if he forgot the words to the songs? What if no one liked the performance; what if they were booed instead of cheered? The “what if’s” were driving him crazy; he just wanted to get on with it.
“Nick, it’s time to go; Carson’s about to go out there to introduce us,” Kevin’s voice interfered with the chain of unpleasant thoughts that rattled incessantly through Nick’s mind. “You ready?”
Panic seized Nick’s heart with icy fingers. Maybe he didn’t want to just get on with it after all. Weakly, he looked up at Kevin. “I-I don’t know if I can do this,” he mumbled. “I... what if...” Swallowing hard, he let the sentence finish open-ended and closed his mouth tightly, slightly afraid he was going to throw up from nerves.
“Yes you can,” Kevin said firmly, but kindly. “Don’t think about the crowd; don’t think about the ‘what if’s’. Just focus on the music, okay? Because that’s what matters.”
Nick nodded and flashed Kevin a strained, tight-lipped smile, wondering if he would ever be able to get a note out once he was onstage. He stood up slowly, his knee quivering beneath him. Sucking in a deep breath, he straightened and got his balance, marveling at how nervous he was.
He almost always got some butterflies before a show, even after spending nearly half his life performing as a Backstreet Boy, but it had been a long time since he had been this terrified. Where was the professional, the young man who was hardly phased by arenas jam-packed with people? Where was the Backstreet Boy who knew exactly what he had to do to make the girls scream - a smile here, a pelvic thrust there, and an ass-shake every once in awhile.
He’s gone, Nick thought. I’m not the same. I never will be.
Things would be different tonight. Tonight, when he went out on that stage, it would be as himself, as the new and changed Nick Carter. He would be exposed, no curtain of crowd-pleasing gestures to hide behind. All he had now was his voice. But according to Kevin, that was all that mattered.
We’ll see if that’s the case, thought Nick. He followed Kevin and the others out of their private dressing room, which had been tucked away in the far reaches of the backstage area, and congregated alongside them off to one side of the stage, as they waited for their cue.
Meanwhile, a barely-dressed Britney Spears stood at the podium, cooing sickeningly fake thank-you’s to her family and fans as she accepted the award she had just won. When she had finally carried her moon man trophy offstage, Carson Daly was introduced.
Hidden behind the thick curtains of the stage, Nick watched as Carson came to stand behind the podium. A hush fell over the crowd as he began to speak of a group who had been a part of MTV for the past seven years – newsmakers, TRL regulars, VMA winners, and this year, VMA nominees. As he continued his spiel, going on about how this particular group had been struck down by tragedy and hardship time and time again and yet always managed to bounce back, Nick could almost feel the tension growing in the packed music hall. What group was he talking about? Could it be...? Was it...?
“Making their first public appearance and performance in seven months, we are proud to have with us tonight... the Backstreet Boys.”
A roar swept through the massive hall, as a panel of thick curtains parted to reveal five stools sitting in a row on stage, and AJ, Kevin, Brian, Howie, and finally, Nick, appeared. Individual screams rose shrilly above the cheers of the audience, piercing Nick’s ears, yet bringing a smile to his face. The girls were still screaming for them. It was a good sign.
Slightly flustered, yet elated at the same time, Nick crossed the stage with his bandmates, head held high. He exhaled in relief when he reached his stool at the end of the line and boosted himself up onto it. He tilted the microphone on its stand and glanced down the line at the four others. They were ready. He took a deep breath, and then he heard their music began to play. The audience quieted immediately, and Brian launched into the opening of the song, which had been the first single off the latest album.
Tapping his hand lightly against his thigh in rhythm with the song, Nick gazed out into the house. With the blindingly bright spotlights beaming down on him, he couldn’t see past the first few rows. But somewhere out there, he knew, was Claire, watching them perform live for the first time.
With a rush of pride and a desire to impress, he joined the others in singing the chorus. As soon as the first few notes had left his mouth, he was there, back in his zone. No longer was he nervous and uncomfortable in front of all these people. Instead, he was at home, back where he belonged and doing what he had been made to do. He was an artist, after all. The stage was his canvas, and his voice was his brush, painting a beautiful harmony that filled the room, spattering the awed audience with perfect notes.
High-pitched screams rose as they transitioned into “I Want It That Way.” Nick smiled, savoring the familiar sound, and glanced down the line at Brian as he began his solo, his eyes closed, pointing up with one finger. Classic Brian pose
Nick’s solo loomed, and he took a deep breath, preparing for it. His moment had come. Filling his lungs with air once more, he opened his mouth and let the notes flow. “But we are two worlds apart, can’t reach to your heart, believe when I say, I want it that way...”
“Tell me why...”
“I Want it That Way” was a song they had performed countless times, a song they often got sick of singing. But that night, at that moment, the song bore new life. Singing the familiar melody, hardly aware of the crowd down in the pit singing along, Nick was able to forget his nervousness and self-consciousness and just be himself, the same old Nick the fans loved, the Nick who loved to be the center of attention, who loved to sing and perform and make the girls scream.
And scream they did, as AJ sang the final notes of the song. The Boys slid off of their stools and joined hands, bowing once amid loud cheering. Squinting out into the house, Nick was surprised to see that the people in the first few rows of seats were standing. He would later find out that most of the audience – celebrities and fans alike – were on their feet, applauding them in reverence. The Backstreet Boys, who had been mocked, ridiculed, and scoffed at for their entire career, had received a standing ovation.
Backstage, they were immediately bombarded by people, mostly from the media, wanting pictures and interviews, demanding to know how they and MTV had pulled off such a surprise. They posed for a few pictures and said a few words, then were escorted away by security. As the live telecast of the awards cut to a commercial break, they were taken to their reserved seats in the music hall, where Claire had been sitting, along with Leighanne and Kristin, who’d been allowed to sneak in right before their performance.
The two older women swooped down on Nick immediately, practically smothering him with their tight hugs before they moved on to their respective husbands, leaving Claire standing there in the row of seats. She smiled when she caught Nick’s eye and came forward to meet him.
“Did we make a fan of you yet?” he asked with a wink.
She just smiled, her eyes shining, and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tenderly. “You looked great up there,” she whispered, as the others filed into the row of seats and sat down, leaving Nick the aisle seat and Claire the one next to it. “Everyone loved you,” she went on, as she and Nick sunk down into their seats. “They all stood up, even back here, in the ‘celebrity section’.” She glanced around quickly and then leaned close to Nick, whispering in a low voice, “I think P. Diddy and his posse are sitting behind us.”
Nick tried to discreetly look over his shoulder, and sure enough, sitting one row back and a few seats over was Sean “Puffy/Puff Daddy/P. Diddy” Combs. He turned back, not at all starstruck, for he had met the rapper several times before, even been interviewed by him on TRL once. “Yeah, that’s him,” he started to whisper back to Claire, but was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. Twisting around in his seat once again, he saw that P. Diddy had reached out to get his attention.
“Hey dawg, good job up there. You got balls, man, for gettin’ up there and performing, you know what I’m sayin’? Props to y’all.”
Nick smiled. “Thanks, dawg,” he replied, genuinely touched by this compliment. Then he turned back around to watch the rest of the show. The Backstreet Boys had been nominated for Best Group Video, Best Pop Video, and Viewer’s Choice, and as the show neared the end, they were 0 for 3. This was nothing new, but as the presenters for the Viewer’s Choice came out, Nick couldn’t help but think it would be cool if they won. Competition was steep though, and there was no denying the fact that the group was simply not as popular as they had been in 1999, the last year they had won the Viewer’s Choice award. The list of nominees was read off, and then, moments later, he heard the words. “And the winner is... Backstreet Boys!”
Claire drew in a sharp breath beside him and looked over at him, her eyes dancing with excitement. Stunned, he glanced past her and saw the others rising from their seats. So he hadn’t been hearing things – they had won. Their fans had come through, voting for them over any of the other big names that had been nominated. A smile spread across his face as his heart swelled with pride and appreciation for those wonderful fans, who had proven their devotion by never wavering in their support for him.
No longer nervous, no longer afraid of reactions and stares, he stood and led the way down the long aisle to the stage. He climbed slowly and steadily up the steps that led onstage and made his way over to the podium, where he was surrounded by Brian, Kevin, Howie, and AJ. They all gathered around the podium, but it was Nick who was handed the silver moon man trophy, Nick who stood at the microphone, and Nick who was allowed to speak first.
Looking out into the expectant faces of the audience, Nick suddenly wished he’d had the sense to write out some kind of acceptance speech, or at least a list of people to thank. But he hadn’t prepared at all, and the words that came out of his mouth were straight from the heart.
“Um... w-wow,” he stammered, “this was definitely unexpected! Thanks, y’all!” He paused and cleared his throat, getting his bearings, and then continued quickly, “Um, I’m gonna try to keep this short, but for once, I do have a lot to say and a lot of people to thank, and who knows when I’ll have another chance. So I gotta start out by thanking God, who has dealt me some rough blows, but at the same time, has given me the strength to overcome them. Also, um... Dr. K, you’re probably not even watching this, but if you are, thank you. I-I don’t know if I’d even be here right now without you. Susan – ditto. And, uh – just a few more here – uh... ‘Ren,’ my, uh... my little ‘sunshine’... thank you, baby.” He could feel his cheeks heating up and smiled crookedly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.
“And to my four big brothers... Kev, Bri, Howie, and J – thank you for being at my side through everything and helping me get through the past few months. And last but definitely not least, to the fans, for sticking with us and keeping the Backstreet Pride alive. You guys are still showin’ us the love – we wouldn’t be up here right now if it weren’t for you. Thank you so much for your support and your prayers and for giving me the courage to get up here tonight. We love you.”
He stepped back to let the others have a turn, but as soon as AJ got to the mic, all he said was, “I think Nick pretty much said it all for us. Thanks to God, our families and friends, and the fans. We love you all; peace out.”
As the chorus of their song played and the telecast cut to another commercial break, the group left the stage. Nick was in the lead once again, proudly carrying the moon man, his mouth smiling and his eyes sparkling as brightly as the silver beads on Claire’s dress. In the pictures snapped backstage immediately after, he practically shone with happiness, or radiance even, like the sun. Whatever you called it, there was a certain aura that surrounded him that night, something that had not been present in a long, long time.
It was late at night, and outside, the sky was black above the lights of the city. But in Nick’s life, it seemed as if the sun had just risen, and a new day had dawned. And it was glorious.
***
