Unfortunately, that feeling would only last another week. He had another doctor’s appointment scheduled the following Saturday, and he would begin his next round of chemo then. And then it was back to the nausea and throwing up. Fun, fun – he could hardly wait.
Nick and the rest of the family were escorted back to his home in a limo. This was something Nick’s mother had arranged, despite his objections.
“We’ve already taken your car back to your house, and I don’t want you driving anyway, not when you’re so weak,” she had told him firmly.
The family was also now coming to stay at his house for the remainder of their time in Florida. This, too, his mother had arranged. In other words, she had invited them herself.
“Why, it’s just silly for us to be cramped in some hotel when you’ve got plenty of space for us in your house,” she had said, leaving him no choice but to say they could. Nick really only half-minded though. He hadn’t spent time with his brother and sisters in a long time, and it would be nice to have them around. And as for his parents... well, he could tolerate them for a few days, which was how much longer he hoped they were going to stay, although he wasn’t sure.
Inside the limo, Nick leaned back, resting his head tiredly against the seat, anxious to reach home. The first thing he was going to do was take a shower and wash the smell of hospital from his body. Then he was going to crash in his own bed. God, that would feel good after over a week of sleeping in a tiny, railed hospital bed.
Unfortunately, things did not quite go as planned. As soon as the limo reached the tall gates encircling Nick’s yard, he could see that there was going to be trouble. Camped out on the lawn in front of the gates were a whole flock of reporters, their cameras and microphones ready.
“Oh my God,” Nick groaned, peering out the tinted window at them all. How did they know he was coming home that day? In fact, how did they know he was even in the hospital? He had been avoiding the media since long before his hospitalization, with the exception of TRL, and as far as he knew, the only people were aware of the fact that he had been in the hospital were his family and his friends. He hadn’t told anyone else, and he was sure none of the people he loved would do that either. Unless...
“Just park it here, this is fine,” Jane was telling the limo driver. “Bob, come on, let’s get out and help Nicky out. Kids, you follow after we get Nick out.”
“Mom?” Nick asked through gritted teeth. “What are all these damn reporters doing here?”
“Oh, I’m sure they’re just here to see how you’re doing, maybe get a few comments from you,” she replied flippantly and opened the car door before he could get another word out. His father followed her out, and immediately, the press swooped down on them like buzzards, thrusting microphones in their faces, snapping pictures with cameras, video cameras filming the whole scene.
Jane reached a hand back into the limo and patted Nick’s knee. The bad one. He winced as it throbbed with her touch, but she was too caught up in the moment to notice. “Come on, honey,” she said. “Let me help you out.”
“Get them out of here,” he protested, not budging.
“Nick, they’re just concerned about you. You don’t have to give them any long interviews, just a comment and a few pictures, okay? Your fans are concerned about you, you know. They want to know that you’re all right.”
“Do I look all right to you?” Nick exploded. “God, Mom, how blind are you? I look like a freak – you think I want my fans to see me like this?”
“They love you, Nick, they won’t mind,” she replied. “Now, come on.”
“You brought all these people here, didn’t you?” he accused. “What the fuck are you trying to do?”
“Watch your mouth. Of course I didn’t bring these people here. They found out you were being discharged and came here to wait for you; I can’t help that. But the least you could do is give them what they’re asking for.”
“Well, how did they find out I was being discharged?” Nick pressured. “Did a certain someone tip them off?”
“Nickolas Gene Carter!” His mother feigned a wounded look. “I can’t believe you think I would-“
“Yeah, whatever, Mom.” She had done it, he knew she had. But it was too late now – he really had to get inside the house, and it was apparent that these reporters weren’t going to leave until they had caught a glimpse of him. Might as well get it over with.
Pulling his baseball cap low over his head, he pushed away his mother’s outreaching hand and stood up on his own accord, ducking as he climbed carefully out of the back of the limousine. Jane’s arm came protectively around his waist as he stood, squinting in the bright sunlight and trying to avoid the cameras that were all focusing on him.
“Nick!” shouted one reporter, practically shoving his mic up Nick’s nose. “Your mother tells us you were in the hospital for cancer treatments and pneumonia. Is that accurate?”
Nick shot Jane a look. Yeah right, you didn’t tell them. “Yes,” he told the reporter grudgingly. “I came down with pneumonia, but I’m better now.” With that, he started to push his way through the crowd, trying in vain to get to the gates, but the paparazzi blocked his path, and his mother clutched him tightly.
“Nick, how are your treatments going?” another reporter asked. “Is your cancer in remission?”
I wish, he thought wistfully, ignoring the question all together.
“Nick, have the other Backstreet Boys been around during your ordeal? Are they being supportive?”
“Yes,” he muttered.
“And how about your family?”
He didn’t answer. Jane prodded him in the ribs, but he ignored her. Finally, she took over, answering in a weepy voice, “Nick’s father and I brought the children all the way from California to be with him. We’ve been at his side day and night through this horrible ordeal.”
The reporter nodded, a look of sympathy crossing her heavily made-up face. “I’m sure this has been very difficult on you all, hasn’t it?”
“Oh yes,” answered Jane emphatically. “We’ve spent almost all our time at Nick’s side, camped out at the hospital. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months, ever since I found out about the cancer. You just can’t imagine what it’s like to... to...” She trailed off, her voice sounding choked. Nick glanced down to see tears welling in his mother’s eyes and couldn’t help but wonder if they were real, or if she had forced them.
“I’m so very sorry,” said the reporter, and then a younger man pushed her out of the way to get through to Nick.
“Nick, I notice you’re wearing a baseball cap – have you lost your hair? How do you think having cancer is going to affect your image and the public’s opinion of you? What do the fans think?”
“Oh, fuck off!” Nick cried, giving the man a shove. It was a feeble attempt though, not forceful enough to knock him off his feet. Damn.
“I’m sorry, we need to get Nick inside now,” Jane said, her voice ringing out loudly. “He’s still very weak from his illness; I’m sure you understand.”
Yeah, right, Nick thought, but surprisingly, the waters parted as the reporters reluctantly backed away, clearing a path to the gates. Bob opened them, and Jane escorted Nick slowly through, her arm still wrapped tightly around him.
“I can walk on my own, you know,” he hissed under his breath, annoyed with her. But she ignored him, continuing to hold on to him until they were out of the reporters’ line of vision. Then she let go.
***
