They were all sitting down to eat before the concert, all going between catering and their buses. All except for Nick. He was sitting there with an empty plate that he had never filled, just to make it look like he had eaten. The only thing he seemed to be able to keep down was his bottle of water, which he was thinking might pick the opportune moment of right before going onstage to haunt him.

If Sara had thought leaving him would push him to get better, she was so wrong. And if Nick had been feeling anything like himself, he would have called her, just to tell her she was wrong for once. But he could barely keep up the energy to perform.

“Hey Nick,” Brian patted his back as he walked in with his son. “Feeling any better?”

“Kinda.” He replied, sipping a bit more of his water. “Just trying to keep energy.”

“Yeah, that’s probably best. Is anything particularly good today?”

“Umm, what?”

Brian laughed and shook his head. “The food, Nicky.”

“Oh,” he rubbed his face. “Sorry. Those little sandwich things were good.” He hoped they were because he really hadn’t eaten a thing on that table.

His friend eyed him and was about to interrogate further when Baylee insisted that he needed to eat or he was going to die soon. Nick thanked God for the intervention. All that talking was making him tired. He decided to just lay his head down and hope he would get better before he got worse.

------------

The first few songs weren’t so bad. Actually, he was feeling better. Maybe Nick just needed his blood pumping and the pills he had been taking were working. He almost felt like himself. It was when he sat on the stool that the trouble started…

The blonde sat, listening to Brian talk, but the sound was only a dull drone and the screams from the audience began to pierce his eardrums. A few times he swallowed back vomit and he hoped no one would notice the color draining from his face. Or the sweat that was seeping out at a rapid pace.

Just make it another hour…

-------------

Sara sat in her bed, reading a book and trying to avoid the thought that had been invading her mind ever since she had gotten home. It had been two days since she had heard from Nick and that worried her more than anything. Even if he was pissed for leaving, he would have texted her some picture with a girl telling her that he didn’t need her. That had happened more than once. That was the big baby part of Nick Carter that came with the package. He would call the next morning and apologize.

But he hadn’t messaged her and he hadn’t called. And she was at a loss for what to do. He was a big boy and he could take care of himself.

Oh, who was she kidding? Nick was only a big boy when he absolutely had to be. He had never taken care of himself on his own before, why would he start now? Why was she so concerned? It was probably just a stomach flu. Sara’s eyes wandered to the clock on her bedside table. Right about now, he was teasing some girls in the front row and later, he just might hook up with one of them. The woman growled at herself, feeling the surge of jealousy power through her, thinking about Nick with another woman. No one could ever care for him like she did.

But she would never tell him that.

Rolling onto her stomach, Sara grabbed a magazine and hoped to find something juicy that would keep her distracted until she was tired. She almost jumped out of her skin when the ringtone of her phone broke the silence.

Why was Brian calling her so late?

-----------

The feelings only got worse and the band only got louder. The screams only got more high pitched. All the noise made him want to curl up and cry. But he kept a smile pasted on. He was sure message boards would be hashing later on how sickly he looked. At least it wasn’t how fat he looked….

Nick was so proud of himself when the concert finally ended. Now to just make it to his bus. He felt weak, but nothing a little nap couldn’t help. A nap and some juice sounded wonderful…

And he didn’t even realize his vision was growing darker. Nick Carter didn’t even feel it when he collapsed, falling down three stairs and laying pale and sick at the bottom.