The tour ended two days later and we were back in Orlando to do some recording on our album for the next couple of months. With the money we’d earned (which wasn’t a whole lot), we were able to rent a condo that the five of us shared in Kissimmee. AJ, Nick, and Howie were occasional visitors, which was fine with me as long as they didn’t bring a certain other bandmate. We got some time off for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and the run-in with Kevin and Brian at the Bluegrass Regional airport on December 28th was horribly awkward. They were of course in first class though, so I didn’t have to endure a 2-hour plane ride with Kevin, who I’d basically been avoiding since that night in Manchester, England. When Lou and the Wrights invited us to join the guys on the first leg of the Backstreet’s Back tour in the US and Canada, I was both stoked and worried- Stoked because the Backstreet Boys were starting to get big in the United States and it was a huge opportunity for us, but worried because I was afraid the entire tour would feel pretty much like those few minutes in the airport.
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“Right together, left together, pivot turn, pivot turn, slide left, body roll, slide right....Hey Cass, you okay?” I was leading dance rehearsal in Charlotte about two weeks into the tour when I noticed Cassie hunched over with her hands on her knees and breathing heavily. Everyone stopped mid-step and turned to look at her.

She straightened up quickly and wiped the sweat from her brow, then plastered a smile on her face and said, “I’m fine. Just getting a great workout. Mind if we take five?” She finished with a slight wheeze then started walking towards her water bottle on the edge of the stage. She plopped down and slung her legs over the edge of the stage, then took a large gulp of water. I watched her shoulders rise and fall sharply as she gasped and cast a worried glance over at Amelia and Christina. Amelia shook her head solemnly and Christina sighed. “Cassie, where’s your inhaler?”

She turned and glared at me. “On the bus. Why?” Chrissy turned and ran towards the stage door headed for the buses.

“You know why,” Amelia answered for me. “Cassie, you’re having an asthma attack.” Cassie’s childhood asthma had been severe-- to the point of multiple hospitalizations and even a few near-death experiences. Unfortunately, Cassie had always been an avoider. If she didn’t admit it, it wasn’t happening. Amelia, Chrissy, and I, having all been in the same class as her when her asthma was at its worst in junior high, had grown accustomed to noticing the signs and symptoms, helping her to manage them, and knowing when she needed medical attention. I worried that she may soon progress to that point if we didn’t take action.

“No I’m not,” she insisted. “I’m just a little winded. Actually, I feel much better. Let’s get back to work.” She struggled to get back on her feet, wheezing audibly.

“Well, if you’re fine, you’ll humor us and use your inhaler...at least once,” Amelia bargained with her.

“You know I hate how those things makes me feel.” She crossed her arms and sucked in a shallow breath. “They make me so jittery I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin.”

“Well, then I say practice is over for now.” Amelia crossed her arms, matching Cassie’s stance and stared her down.

“Fine.” Cassandra swayed and sat back down carefully.

“Cass?”

“Maybe you better get me that inhaler,” she panted.

Mel tore away towards the back door, running as fast as her short legs could carry her. “Chrissy, thank God,” she breathed as she saw Christina jogging towards her in the back hallway. “We need to hurry!” She turned and ran back towards the stage, but was quickly halted when Johnny Wright and Kevin stepped out of a dressing room.

“Whoa there.” Johnny held his arms out in front of him and placed them on Melissa’s shoulders. She stopped, annoyed, as Chrissy breezed on past them. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Cassie’s having an asthma attack!” she exclaimed.

Johnny and Kevin exchanged worried glances. “Cassie has asthma?” Johnny questioned. “She didn’t put that on her medical release.”

“I don’t really care right now, sir.” Mel pried herself away from his grasp and ran towards the stage, with the men following her closely. When they arrived, Cassie was seated and frantically sucking on her inhaler while Amelia, Chrissy, and I knelt around her. Her hand had a vice-like grip on the device and the other was balled into a tight fist. I tried to pry her fingers out of her palm but they were essentially frozen there.

I looked up at Kevin.” We need help.” Her hands drawing up was a sign of lack of oxygenation to her extremities, and I worried that she was going downhill fast.

Kevin started fumbling through his pockets. “Shit. I don’t have my phone!” He turned around and placed his hands on Mel’s shoulders, stooping down almost as if he were talking to a child, but really it was because of the drastic height difference. “Brian’s asleep on our tour bus,” he said calmly. “Go wake him up and ask him where the oxygen tanks are. Then tell him to call Steve and get him to the stage immediately, okay?” Mel nodded and tore back out of the stage doors.

She arrived at the bus in record time and jogged past the bodyguard outside and bounded up the stairs. “Brian!” she screamed.

“What the--?” He peeked his head out from behind a set of curtain and looked at her like she had two heads.

“Cassie’s having an asthma attack and Kevin said you would know something about oxygen tanks? And who the hell’s Steve?!”

Brian jumped into action and scrambled to put his shoes on. He grabbed his cell phone from his bunk and pressed the number “1” as he began leading Melissa off the bus “Hey Steve.....No I’m fine....really I am. Actually, it’s Cassie, one of the girls in our opening act. She’s apparently having an asthma attack, and Kevin thought you might be able to help.....She’s um....where is she?” he asked, turning to Mel.

“On the stage,” she answered.

“She’s on the stage. See you there.” Brian turned off his phone and shoved it in his pocket. “Oxygen,” he said to himself more than to Mel. He led her to a closet backstage and he opened it, pulling out a handful of tubing. “Hold this for a minute, will ya?” She obliged and he fiddled with a mask and tubing for a second, then starting jogging towards the stage, wheeling an oxygen tank.

“Who’s Steve?” Melissa prodded.

“My nurse,” he said quietly before rushing over to Cassie. Her lips were now tinged blue and her eyes were panicked. His eyes flashed with worry and he stooped down beside her, gently pulling the elastic of the oxygen mask behind her head to that the mask rested over her mouth and nose. “It’s okay Cassie. Just slow down,” he soothed, stroking her hair. Her breath was now only coming in fast, squeaky rattles, and she slumped over, her head falling into his chest, unconscious.