Kevin Richardson walked out of the meeting with the boys with so many thoughts going through his mind. God he was happy that they had decided to put this record on hold. Not that he had any say in it mind you. It's the music business that really dictated what they should do. It was nice seeing them all again. They looked so healthy and happy, well most of them anyway, he thought as he got into his rental car.
He felt like he was on top of the world at the moment. His run in Chicago a complete success. No one thought he could do it. Not even HE thought he would be able to pull it off. At first he thought his agent had made a mistake when it was him that got the call. Weren't they looking for Nick or something? Not the old one. The one who never got to sing much.
But it was Kevin they wanted and just a few short auditions later he was on his way to New York. To live out one of his biggest dreams ever. This was one of the biggest things he had ever hoped for. Something he had pictured himself doing when he was a young boy. Back then it wasn't normal for young boys to picture themselves singing and dancing.
He always had to hide his dreams.
Not from his family though, no they had been so supportive of everything he did. But from his friends. Always from his friends.
But when he got that call there was no hiding, only celebrating. They were all so proud. "Your father would have been so proud" He had heard his Mother echo over and over again on the phone through tears of joy.
He cried right along with her. He knew his father would have loved to see this day happen. But he had missed so many milestones. Kevin was getting used to it.
So he had happily rented a small one bedroom condo for himself and his wife and moved to the Big Apple. The place where dreams are made, or broken.
Living in the city had it's great advantages. He was so close to it all. The smells, the sights, the sounds, the people. And most of all, the music.
God he loved music.
He loved being able to run out to a jazz club at all hours of the night, no one much caring who he was. Everyone was a name in New York. They all kind of canceled each other out. Living in Manhattan made him feel free.
It also had it's disadvantages.
Being so close to everything meant also hearing every little thing. Hearing word of mouth all the woes that his group was going through. All hear say but yet still spreading throughout the music community like wildfire.
The Backstreet Boys are finished.
That was the general consensus from everyone. Whether his group felt like that or not. The music world was ready to write them off. He panicked about it the first time he had heard it floating around some random night club. Because that is what he did best.
Panic.
He tried to hold his tongue as he heard other people in the industry, some label mates, some supposedly friends, talking about his group like they were a piece of garbage.
He could no longer bite his tongue.
"Excuse me, you mind?" He had said, beer slightly slurring his speech.
"Hey man, sorry, I didn't know you were in here" The pop star said.
"That shouldn't matter" Kevin had answered, level headed but very stern. Two traits he wore well.
The next day word traveled that Kevin and his intense attitude problem were out of control. By the time he had gotten to his call at the theater, his cast had already heard the rumors. They didn't ask but they looked at him differently. A little.
"Don't worry about it Kevin, people are stupid" His wife told him in the midst of signing autographs after the show. "These are the people that count",
He did try to focus his attention on the fans that were waiting for him outside just then, but the nagging feeling of failure kept finding it's way into his psyche. Taking pictures with people who adored him but listening to the whispers of the people who adored to hate him.
"What is HE doing in this thing?"
"God if I had known there was a boyband guy in it I would have never gone"
"What kind of bio is that for a show like this? Ooh so he sang on the Grammys what does that have to do with Broadway?"
Suddenly those voices, the voices of failure, far outshined the good things he had heard. Making him just want to scream. He felt bad that the last few weeks he remained in New York, he had spent them defending his band, his career and his very existence to people.
How fair was that?
All he wanted was to live out one of his dreams...
