“How ya feeling, man?” he asked, slapping Nick’s back as Nick led him into the living room.
“Okay,” Nick replied.
“Look, I’m really sorry about last night. For the alcohol, I mean... I didn’t know it would make you sick. You just looked like you weren’t having much fun, and we thought it would help. We weren’t gonna get you drunk or anything; you were the DD. We just wanted to loosen you up a little, you know?”
“I know.” Nick sighed. “I’m not mad. I just... I’m not supposed to drink right now, and it messed up my system.”
“Why aren’t you supposed to drink?” Brent’s forehead creased with worry, and his eyes registered confusion. The concept of not being able to drink was foreign to him; to him, James, Lane, and Frank, clubbing and drinking were about the second most important thing in their lives, proceeded only by their band, Born Into Kaos.
There was a time, only months before, when Nick had been right there with them, barhopping into the wee hours of the morning and coming home plastered, when he was not on tour. How carefree he had been then... he had had problems to deal with, of course, he always did, but nothing compared to this. He longed to go back to those days, when singing was his life, drumming and boating his hobbies, and Nintendo and drinking his other favorite pastimes. Back to the days when cancer and medicine didn’t control his life, when he didn’t have to plan his schedule around chemo weeks, not knowing how sick he would be then, when he didn’t have to worry about cleaning a catheter every week and going for check-ups every three, and when he still had a full head of hair.
He was beginning to despise baseball caps. AJ had loaned him a few skull caps that clung tightly to his balding scalp. They covered his head all right, better than the baseball caps, but somehow, they just didn’t look as good on him as they did on AJ.
“Nick? Why aren’t you supposed to drink?”
With a start, Nick realized he had let his mind wander. Flustered, he replied, “Um... I’m on some meds... alcohol doesn’t mix well with them.”
“Meds? For what? Migraines?”
Oh, how Nick wished it was only migraines. “No,” he replied. “Um... Brent? This is... this is r-really hard to say, but...” He swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue, to say those dreaded words. “I’ve been diagnosed with... cancer.”
He waited for the look of shock to appear on Brent’s face, and it did immediately. But, just as quickly, it vanished, and his friend burst out laughing. “Ha ha, nice one, Carter,” he laughed dryly, smirking at Nick. “Damn, don’t say shit like that – I almost thought you were for real for a sec there!’
Nick did not laugh. Silently, he just stared at Brent, hoping his eyes would deliver the message. Finally, it did. The color drained from Brent’s face, his eyes bugging out of his head as he slowly realized Nick was not kidding.
“No,” he said hoarsely. “You’re not serious...” Looking away, Nick only nodded. “Oh my God... oh my God... Nick... h-how could you get cancer?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nick muttered emotionlessly. “Like celebrities can’t get cancer? I’m just a normal person like anyone else, Brent, you of all people should know that. Of course I can get cancer.”
“I didn’t mean that... I just meant, you. I mean, you’re healthy! You’re athletic, you work out... okay, so you don’t really eat right, but who does? How could this happen to you? I don’t understand...”
Nick only shrugged. “I don’t know either, but it did. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, but I just didn’t want things to get weird between us, you know?”
“Well, how long have you known?”
“Couple months.”
Nick said the words quickly, guiltily avoiding Brent’s eyes. But Brent did not explode and ask why Nick had waited so long to tell him. He only nodded. “This really sucks, man.”
Nick snorted dryly. “Tell me about it.”
“So does Brian and the gang know yet?”
“Yeah... I couldn’t hide it from them for too long.”
“Yeah... so... you gonna tell the guys?”
He meant James, Lane, and Frank. Nick sighed. “Maybe you could tell them... it’s hard, you know?”
“I bet. Yeah, no prob, dude, I’ll tell ‘em.”
“Thanks, Brent.”
Brent stayed for a short while after that, but within half an hour, he had left, once Nick had promised he didn’t need anything and was fine on his own. He could see that despite wanting to be there to support him, Brent was uncomfortable. As much as he disliked that, he couldn’t blame him.
As a Backstreet Boy, he and the guys had taken many charity trips to hospitals, where they had visited sick children, including cancer patients. While he had always enjoyed cheering them up, he had also been relieved when it was time to leave; hospitals and sickness and those poor children, all sallow-faced and gaunt and bald and tethered to IV’s, unnerved him.
And now, thought Nick with a sardonic laugh, the tables had turned. He was one of them.
***
Howie called back awhile after Brent had left.
“The plans are all made,” he announced. “We’re scheduled to appear on TRL on Wednesday. They’ll be publicizing our ‘big announcement’ so all the Bsb fans will tune in.”
“Did you tell them what the ‘big announcement’ was?” asked Nick.
“No way... they’ll be finding out along with everyone else. I’m sure they think it’s that we’re breaking up though.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Probably. Assholes.”
Howie laughed, and Nick could just picture his smile. “That’s the spirit, Nicky. So anyway, I’ve already called Kevin about this, and he said he would call Bri and J, but we were thinking maybe we could meet in New York on Tuesday and maybe have a night to ourselves, get mentally ready for this. Does that sound okay?”
“Yeah, that’s cool,” replied Nick. “Do I need to call and get a plane ticket then?”
“Already taken care of.”
“Oh, okay... so everything’s set then?”
“Everything’s set. All you have to do is show up, buddy.”
Nick smiled tightly and heaved a sigh. “Will do.”
So there it was. He would be leaving for New York City in three days, and after Wednesday, the whole world would know.
***
