- Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
Back to Cary's POV. Thanks for reading and reviewing! You guys are helping keep my writing streak alive! :)
Cary


“Cary! Holy hell, is that really you?”

I laughed at the tone of my best friend Jessica’s voice. “Yeah, it’s really me,” I replied, pressing the phone closer to my ear. “Sorry, I’ve been meaning to call you, but it’s just been crazy here, and our schedules are totally opposite...”

“Oh, do not even go there. You lucky bitch, sleeping all day and partying all night, while I reenact Office Space in my cubicle from nine to five every day. So not fair,” Jessica sniffed, but I knew she was only kidding. She had the perfect yuppie life: six-figure income, handsome hubby, beautiful daughter, and a brand new McMansion in the suburbs. She had no reason to be jealous of me.

“Trust me, it’s not quite as glamorous as it sounds,” I said, and wasn’t that the truth? If she even had half a clue as to what I’d really been doing when I wasn’t onstage... “It’s not like I’m touring with The Rolling Stones or something.”

“I dunno; I think there’s plenty of girlies out there who would much rather tour with the Backstreet Boys than the Stones. Have you gotten in Nick Carter’s pants yet?”

Funny she should ask that, I thought with a wry smile, glancing toward the back of the bus, where Nick was in his bunk, playing one of his video games. “It’s not like that,” I told Jess. “We’re... friends.”

“Friends with benefits?” she sing-songed knowingly. I guess my hesitation was enough to reveal that there was more going on between us than friendship. She just didn’t know what it was. It was the same conclusion all the guys had jumped to, and Nick and I had just been playing along. I wished I could tell her the truth, but Nick had sworn me to secrecy. I wouldn’t break his trust.

“So, how’s everything been with you? How’s the family?” I asked, ignoring her last question.

“Oh, you can try to change the subject, Cary, but just you wait till I see you in person next week. I’ll get you to spill,” she said, snickering. “Things are fine here - same old, same old. You haven’t been missing out on much.”

“I can’t wait to get home,” I replied eagerly. “It’s been awesome seeing the country, but I’ve been living out of a suitcase for a solid month. It’ll be nice to sleep in my own bed for a night - and see you, of course!”

I was counting down the days till we made it to Illinois. Three more days, two more shows, and we’d be there. We had a day off before the show in Highland Park on Thursday, and I was going to use it to drive down to Decatur, where I’d grown up, and surprise my dad. He and Jess would be coming back with me the next day to see the show. I couldn’t wait. I missed my dad, and I missed my friends. I missed Hambelina. I missed my apartment and my bed and my closet, where I could actually hang up my clothes and spread out my shoes.

“Aww, I can’t wait to see you, either!” said Jess. “I got Thursday off to go to the show, and Dan’s on babysitting duty, so I’m home free. Just let me know what your schedule looks like so we can make some plans.”

We talked a while longer and figured out our game plan for Thursday. By the time I got off the phone, I’d killed off half an hour, and it was almost time to get ready for soundcheck. We were in West Long Branch, New Jersey that night, to perform at the concert venue at Monmouth University. From what I’d seen, walking around campus a little that morning, it reminded me of my alma mater, Millikin. That made me even more homesick. Three days, I reminded myself. After tonight’s show, we were driving up to Connecticut, and then, finally, we’d leave the east coast and head to the Midwest.

We had an easy week ahead, as far as our tour schedule went - no more than two shows in a row, with days off in between to travel. As nice as that was, I gladly would have swapped it with the following week, when we had six shows with only one day off in the middle. If his blood counts stayed up, Nick was supposed to be starting his next cycle of chemo next weekend - right when the schedule got crazy again. I felt bad because he was finally starting to feel good again.

“Hey, Nick!” I called back to the bunks. “It’s almost time to go. You wanna do your shot first?”

He didn’t answer, but I heard movement in the back of the bus, and within a few seconds, he’d made his way up to the front. I gave him a quick once-over; even in a plain white t-shirt and gray sweats, he looked a lot better than he had the week before. There was more color in his cheeks and less shadow under his eyes. His tonsils had gone back to their usual size, and the mucositis had cleared up, too. We wouldn’t hear the results of his latest blood work until at least tomorrow, but I had no doubt that the numbers would be better. I could tell just in how he was feeling - less tired, more like his fun-loving old self. It was just too bad it wouldn’t last. Next week, he’d be suffering the effects of the chemo again.

“Aight, let’s do this,” said Nick. He dropped his sweatpants and plopped down onto the couch next to me. I snuck a peek at his boxer briefs and smirked to myself, remembering Jess asking me, “Have you gotten in Nick Carter’s pants yet?”

Well, technically, yes. I’d alternated arms for the first few days of the G-CSF injections, but both his arms were starting to get sore from the repeated needle sticks, so we’d switched to legs. “Just a sec,” I said, going over to the kitchen area to wash my hands and get one of the pre-filled syringes out of the fridge.

I had the syringe in my hand when I heard a familiar, raspy voice yell, “Hey, Carter, you ‘bout ready?” It startled me so much, I dropped the syringe, which clattered to the floor and rolled, right up to a pair of brown, cow print sneakers. I stared up in horror at AJ, who stooped down to pick up the syringe. He gave me a searching look, frowning as he rolled it carefully between his fingers.

Before he could get a close look at the label, I snatched it out of his hand. “Thanks!” I said brightly, my voice unusually high-pitched. Being a nurse has its advantages; I know how to stay reasonably calm under pressure, and I’m used to thinking on my feet. The lie came to me quickly. “Insulin injection,” I added, waving the syringe as casually as I could, though I could feel myself shaking on the inside. “I have to give them to myself twice a day; I’m a diabetic.”

“Oh!” He was still frowning, but I could see the suspicious look lift from his face. “I didn’t know that. Sorry.”

I shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I’ve been doing this since I was a kid, so I’m used to it. You just startled me; I didn’t hear you come on the bus.”

“Oh - sorry,” he said again. “I was just checking to see if Nick was ready to head in for soundcheck.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Nick, hoping he’d managed to pull his pants back up while AJ was distracted. He had, thank goodness. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a few,” he told AJ. “Just gonna brush my teeth first.” He retreated to the bathroom at the back of the bus.

I flashed AJ my sweetest smile and said, “How ‘bout I finish this real quick, and Nick and I will meet you outside in five?”

“Oh yeah, sure,” AJ agreed, turning to leave. “Sorry again for barging in on you like that,” he called over his shoulder.

“No problem!” I waited until I saw him get off the bus, then hurried to the back. “All clear,” I whispered.

Nick poked his head out of the bathroom door. “Shit, that was way too fuckin’ close.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault. AJ needs to learn how to fucking knock. You were awesome! Thanks for covering for me like that.”

I met his gaze, satisfied with the sheepish look on his face. “I don’t like lying, not even for you, but... you’re welcome.”

He gave a guilty nod and said, “I know. Sorry for putting you in that situation. I’m gonna tell them eventually, you know... That’s just not the way I would’ve wanted them to find out.”

“I know. That’s why I lied.”

“Thanks,” he said again. His eyes dropped to the syringe I still had in my hand. “Can we just get this over with in here, in case he comes back?”

“Yeah, good plan,” I agreed.

He lowered his pants again, closed the toilet seat, and sat down. I knelt on the floor next to him and opened a fresh alcohol wipe. He flinched when I used it to disinfect the injection site.

“Shit, those are cold.”

“Sorry.” I smiled; his leg hair was standing straight up from goosebumps.

I uncapped the syringe and pinched a hunk of flesh from his thigh. It was times like this when I was glad I usually worked with the elderly - I never had to feel embarrassed about touching a hot guy in a place that was verging on private. Then again, Nick made for a much more pleasant sight than my usual clientele. I just had to avoid looking up at his face and focus on the patch of bare skin in front of me, as I tipped the syringe to a forty-five degree angle and carefully slid it in. I felt him tense up with the pain, but he held still while I injected him with the clear fluid from the syringe. “There,” I said, sliding the needle back out. A drop of blood squeezed out of the pinprick hole in his leg; I handed him a cotton ball to hold over it.

“Thanks,” he sighed. He pressed the cotton ball to his thigh for a few minutes, while I cleaned up, then tossed it into the trash and stood, pulling his pants back up. He followed me back to the front of the bus, where he helped himself to some chocolate that was sitting out on the kitchen counter. “This stuff is finally tasting right again,” he said, with his mouth full.

“Glad to hear it.” I smiled. It was just nice to see him with an appetite again. Between dancing almost every night and not eating much, he looked like he had lost even more weight, without even trying. I, on the other hand, had probably gained it from sitting around on this damned tour bus, eating chocolate all day. “Get rid of that stuff for me, would you?” I added, pointing at the leftover candy bars. “I can’t have any now that I’m diabetic.” I winked.

He grinned, his teeth all chocolaty, and took another piece. When he was done, he licked his lips, wiped his fingers on his pants, and said, “We better go. You ready?”

“Yep.” I put on a pair of sandals, and he put on the white Celtics cap he’d been wearing for days. Then we got off the tour bus. AJ was waiting for us outside, along with two of the bodyguards, Mike and Q. They escorted us into the venue through the backstage entrance.

The Boys’ stage was set up, but crew members were still walking around, getting the sound equipment ready. We each did a quick soundcheck to make sure everything worked, before Justin, from the fan club, let the fans in for the soundcheck party. I loved watching the soundchecks; they were like mini-concerts, only way more laidback, and it was fun to see the guys goof off with each other. Howie was usually serious, but Brian was such a ham, and AJ and Nick - when he was feeling okay - could get pretty silly, too.

I could tell Nick was in a good mood by the obnoxious falsetto voice he used to sing “Masquerade.” He got all up in Howie’s face, until Howie retaliated by licking his cheek. Brian wasn’t feeling it. He texted on his phone when it wasn’t his turn to sing and rolled his eyes as he jumped in with his harmonies on the chorus. I don’t know why he seemed to hate “Masquerade” so much; I thought it was a pretty good song.

When the fans requested “Shattered” - one of my favorites from This Is Us - AJ started singing it normally. “So empty, can’t feel no more, as I’m left with my tears on the floor...”

Then Nick looked over and said, “AJ, give it McDonald. Michael McDonald.”

All of a sudden, AJ’s voice dropped an octave in an impression of Michael McDonald that made me choke on the water I was drinking. “Wait for my heart to mend, but you keep tearing a hole...”

Then Brian came in with his solo. “Inside I’m so lost...” he warbled in a deep, old man’s vibrato.

“So lost,” Nick whispered into his mic.

“... in the middle of my heart...” I giggled helplessly; Brian was practically eating his microphone, his mouth contorting hilariously to get the sound he wanted. “It’s a battlefield of love, I’ve been fighting for too long...”

“And now I’m shattered...” they sang together.

“From you chipping my heart,” belted Nick, his voice deeper and more soulful than I’d ever known it could be, “kept taking it till it broke...”

“Oh, how it hurts...”

“Felt it slip from your hands, hit the ground and now it’s shattered...” As Brian started laughing, my mouth dropped open, and I stared at Nick in astonishment, unable to believe that kind of voice was coming out of his mouth. I knew they were just messing around, but he actually sounded good!

“I’m so shatter-er-er-er-ered...” wheezed Brian.

Nick was cracking himself up. “Can’t believe, it was me, I’m so shattered...”

“So shatter-er-er-er-ered...”

“Can’t believe, you and me, ahh...”

“So shatter-er-er-er-er-er-ered...”

“Can’t believe, you left me, I’m so shattered...”

“Shattered, cut from with inside...”

“Ohhh... what am I still here for?” warbled Nick, lisping his “s,” and as Brian lost it onstage, so did I. “Could it be that I’m just waiting?” Tears stung my eyes as I burst out laughing at his hilarious, dead-on impression. “Hoping you’d rescue me, and put the pieces to-” As the fans shrieked with laughter, Nick started cracking up again in the middle and struggled to finish his verse. “-geth-... a-” He completely lost it on “again” and almost fell off his stool.

The best was when even Howie started doing it. “Inside I’m so lost,” he sang in the Michael McDonald voice, and Brian threw his arms up in victory. “In the middle of my heart...” It was so weird hearing him sing that low; he sounded like a completely different person. “It’s a battlefield of love, I’ve been fighting for so long...”

“And now I’m shattered...” they sang.

Nick still did it the best, though. “From you chipping my heart, kept taking it till it broke...”

As they went on singing that way, I just watched him, completely enthralled. He amazed me, the way he could be so funny and still sound so good, despite the deadly secret he was hiding. He was a true entertainer. It wasn’t just me; he had everyone in the room under his spell. This was what he was meant to do.

“Felt it slip from your hands, hit the ground and now it’s shattered...” He had the cutest smile on his face, clearly amused with himself, and in that moment, he looked genuinely happy.

And despite the worry and grief he put me through, the secrets he made me keep and the lies he made me tell, in that moment, I realized how happy he made me, too.

***


Chapter End Notes:
More must-see soundcheck videos!

"Masquerade"

"Shattered," Michael McDonald style