Prologue
Being a Backstreet Boy isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I don’t say that because I know anything about getting up on stage night after night parading around like a piece of singing meat, I say it as an outsider looking through the fishbowl.
Going on tour isn’t glamorous, it’s a lot of hard work, it’s both tiring and boring, and it’s seemingly never ending. As for the boys themselves... everyone puts them up on a pedestal thinking they’re the most perfect men God ever created; but that’s not the case. People are under this false pretence that celebrities are anything but normal but they’re wrong. They’re just normal guys, with normal guy habits, normal guy smells, and normal guy urges.
I met Nick Carter in March of 1998, the band’s glory days you might say. He was in Daytona filming a Spring Break MTV special and I was a senior in high school. My parents had very reluctantly let me go south to have fun with my friends before we all went off to college in the fall but I went down there with a few rules engrained in my mind courtesy of my mother and father:
1.) No alcohol.
2.) Clothing mandatory at all times.
3.) Further to that, no sex.
4.) In fact, no boys in the hotel room at all!
Backstreet was staying at the same hotel as my friends and I, and we had the opportunity to meet them at a party on the hotel’s private beach one night. Nick and I hit it off immediately, breaking ourselves away from the pack. That first night we talked for hours about everything and anything life could offer to a pair of teenagers before ending the evening with a lust fuelled romp in the sand.
At the time that spring break was the greatest two weeks of my life. I had a “spring fling” with an international pop star who proved that he was equally at ease with popping and locking as he was with popping cherries. My friends thought I was the coolest person they’d ever met, and I went back to Cleveland, Ohio a celebrity in my own right.
That should have been the end of it. Sure, I had his email address but I never expected him to write me back, I had expected to move on with my life – graduate high school, start college, and be a professional cheerleader. (I now realize those probably weren’t the strongest of goals.)
Instead my graduation robe hid my baby bump, I respectfully declined my enrolment into college, and changed both my and Nick’s lives forever with a simple phone call. Though his management had full intentions of hiding me away, it was Jane Carter that stood up in the end and made Nick take responsibility for his actions quite publically – something that has made me appreciate her even though I may be the only one who does.
And so began my life as a jetsetter, flying back and forth across the country, and across the world to serve the every whim of a Backstreet Boy.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Don't worry, I've been working on MME also I just wanted to get this one going :)
