"God itīs warm," Nick mumbled as he threw off the sheet, tossing and turning for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night. Catching a quick glance at the red glowing digitals on his travel clock he registered that it was early in the morning. 4.25 am!
The show the previous night had been very taxing and even though Nick was totally exhausted, he still felt too worked up to sleep. He hadnīt even managed to get an eye shut the whole night and soon it would be time to get up and meet the world again. The reason for his worriedness was called Alexander James McLean and he was nowhere to be seen.
The concert had been a total disaster! Not only had the flu hit them in the back, showing itīs ugly face with having three of them preforming with a fever running in their veins, no Nick had to be the worst klutz too.
When he was about to do a backflip, like he had done thousands of times before, he slipped and fell flat on his back. It had knocked the air out of him and he lay there, panting like a dying fish on dry land. It took awhile for the rest to register that Nick was still laying on his back, and normally one of them would have rushed to his aid, but today they were all too busy to cope, trying hard to stay on their own feet.
Howie, who was sick as a dog throwing up backstage, was the one that saw that Nick wasnīt getting back on his feet in the same pace as he usually did. He went over and offered a hand and dragged him up. A frown was etched on the Latino's face and even if he was so sick that he looked like an zombie he still managed to ask how the teen was doing. Regaining his breath, Nick had acted like nothing was wrong. He couldnīt let them know that he was hurt since they were all trying to do their best so this wouldnīt end up becoming the worst preformance in the Backstreet history. It was nearing this state pretty fast!
D' was one of the nicest guys that Nick knew and mentally Nick decided that her wouldnīt tease and play so many pranks on him like he usually did. Howie was an easy target to tease and he had a habit to pick on the Latino in all kinds of situations. Sweet D' often laughed and didnīt seem too effected. But if anyone thought that Howie D' was lame and didnīt have a temper they couldnīt be more mistaken. He was perfectly capeable of telling Nick off when he thought that the teen had crossed the line.
Rubbing his sore back, Nick winced. 'I better go and ask Kev for some pain medictaion tomorrow at breakfast,' he thought as he could have slapped himself for forgetting to bring a package of Tylenols with him on this tour. Since the schedule often messed up his system he was sometimes coming to the point where he was chewing aspirins like they were M&M's just to be able to stand upright.
His sore back had made it impossible to do some dance moves and AJ had afterwards commented that he looked like he had shit his pants. When the show was over Johnny had chewed them out. He said that they sucked worse than a bunch of ladies from an retirement home trying to do jazz dance. He had told them that they better shape up their act and he didnīt buy that kind of nonsense that they were acting so bad because they were feeling sick.
"Okay," he had said, "Three of you are sick, but what excuses do the rest of you have? This is a team and you are suppose to stand up for each other when any of you are feeling bad. This I saw nothing from today. As a matter of fact, you Nick and you AJ sounded worse than the Three Stooges," the manager waved with his hand towards the three miserable Backstreet Boys that sat on the sofa, looking like they were about to fall over any second.
It was more and more clear that Johnny was feeling the pressure from some direction, possibly the Firm and their sponsors. He was having a fit as his hands were tied to his back. The black man didnīt seem to enjoy his new role as Caligula, yet there wasn't much that he could do about it. The firm was in his hair and they were tightening the grip for some unknown reason.
After Johnny had chewed AJ and Nick out, the skinny man clamped shut. No attempts to get Bone in a better mood worked. Nick had tried his tricks, but the look he received from AJ said that he better shut up or he would end up in the ER with his face re-arranged. Alexander was not an violent man, but the teen had a habit to test his temper in a bad way.
As soon as they had gone back to the hotel, Kevin, Brian and Howie went straight to their shared room, trying to cure the illness so they would be fit for fight until the upcoming day. The schedule was hectic and early in the morning they would go to the next city and there awaited lots of interveiws, a meet and greet and one more concert. Nick had long forgotten where they were and all German cities looked about the same. He was actually grateful that he hadnīt screwed up and said "Hello England" or something like that to the people in Germany. They would soon be leaving for Austria and Switzerland. Brian had asked if Nick wanted to come into the sick abyss and watch a movie with them, but he had declined. It didnīt sound too tempting and somehow he convinced himself that he could do without watching the guys expelling all kinds of nasty human substances.
Instead he took the bull by the horns and went into the hotel room that he and AJ shared for the time being. The earier threats that AJ would kick his ass if Johnny locked him out off calling Amanda, hung heavily in the air. Bone wasnīt nasty, but he wasnīt overly nice either.
Nick threw himself on the bed and the turned on the Mtv. His back hurt from his earlier mishap, yet he didnīt want to say this to anyone, mainly because they were too busy attending to their own desmises. AJ didnīt seem that interested either. As a matter of fact he more or less treated Nick like he was thin air.
If it was something Nick disliked it was when they were acting like he didnīt exist. He would rather be the victim of a good beating up, than getting fully ignored. All attempts to make a conversation with AJ was futile and the man was giving him the cold shoulder, making him feel left out.
"Iīm going clubbing with Ritch and Bob and some other guys," AJ announced as he came out from the bathroom, having changed to a more outgoing look.
"Now?" Nick looked surprised, "I mean it is almost midnight and you know we have to get up early tomorrow and.." He didnīt have a chance to finish his sentence before AJ cut him off.
"I donīt think that Johnny would like it if he found out that you were going clubbing at this time of night." It was true. The manager would blow a fuse.
"Well Nicky, then he doesnīt have to find out, does he?" AJ looked hard into the blonde's eyes until the teen broke the connection.
Nick shifted nervously on the bed. He hated to lie to the rest of the band and deep inside he thought that AJ could do with staying at the hotel room for a change. He had been partying way too much ever since they came to Europe. And AJ wasnīt even legal age.
Knowing that he was in no position to state such a thing he nodded agreeingly, "Sure."
"Good," AJ said as he patted him lightly on the cheek. "I knew I could trust you." And with that he picked up the wallet and opened the entrence door. "Donīt wait up for me, Iīll be getting in late." Before Nick had a chance to respond, the skinny man was long gone.
Now more than four hours later he deeply regretted his decision.
Sighing Nick sat up in bed and decided to get something to drink. Opening up the minibar he scanned the contents and found that several small mini bottles of alcohol were missing.
"Shit," he cussed out loud, coming to the conclusion that the "thief" was no other than Alexander McLean. Nervously he thought that he would get blamed for this and he felt his stomach jump to his throat when he thought how pissed the manager would be when he found out about the missing bottles.
Pulling out a coke and a bag of peanuts Nick sat down on the bed and turned on the tv. If he couldnīt sleep he could at least play some Nintendo. Plugging in the connection, he put in a tv game and sat down, crosslegged on thé bed and started up the game. Soon he was engrossed in the Nintendo and all that was heard in the room was the beeping coming from the tv.
Everytime a door slammed or someone walked out in the corridor Nick tensed. It was past 5 am now and they would go to breakfast in less than 3 hours. It wasnīt the first time that AJ had stayed out late, but it was the first time that he been out this late while rooming with Nick. It hadnīt bothered him so much if he didnīt feel so guilty over AJīs departure. Yawning, he tried to concentrate on the game, but was either too worried or too tired to play so he turned it off, laying on the bed. Even tough he was intent in keeping awake until AJ came home; mostly so he could chew his ass out, but also to make sure that his friend was allright, he dozed off after a while.
A loud knock on the door woke him up from his heavy sleep. A bit disoriented, he stared into the dark, "Brian?" As the cowwebs cleared from his brain he slowly came to realize that the Kentuckian was nowhere in sight and instead he was rooming with Bone, who was nowhere in sight.
Banging from the door interrupted his thoughts and he yelled back "Okay, okay Iīm coming." A bit disoriented he padded over to the door, dragging his feet behind him. "Iīm coming, Iīm coming," he mumbled still not awake as he heard Bob yell from the otherside, "Nick!"
Opening the door he was met with a sight that he wouldnīt soon forget. AJ was leaning or more likely hanging beside Bob and some other guy that he had never seen before. The three men appeared to be very smashed and AJ had almost passed out.
"Shit Bone!" Nick yelled out as he opened the door wider so they could hoist the drunken guy onto his bed. "What happend?" he asked as the two young man dragged AJ over to the bed and then dumped him ontop of the bedspread.
"He won a tequila competition," Bob grinned widely, "Man I had no idea that this skinny guy could drink so many shots and still remain standing. He is a real pro." There was admiration in his voice as he uttered the last word.
"Really?" Nick didnīt sound as excited.
The other man that Nick didnīt know who it was nodded, saying with broken English, "Yeah, he really cleaned out the whole club."
The teen stared, shocked. It wasnīt the first time he encountered his friend in this state, but it was the first time that he was the one that had to deal with it. Usually Kevin or Johnny was the one to handle these things and his first instinct was to go and get Kevin to sort it all out. His older brother always knew what to do in situations like this. Remembering how bad off Kev had been he decided against it. The others were not in any shape to deal with a drunken AJ either and going to Johnny was out of the question. The way the manager had acted he was sure that he would get blamed for this too and in the long run he was the one that drew the shortest straw.
There was no other way out than he had to deal with this situation all by himself. As if in slow motion he heard Bob say, "Okay man, we have to get going." The two men moved towards the door.
Nick felt like he wanted to shout outloud. They couldnīt leave him all alone. He was the Backstreet Baby, the one that usually was the one that was being comforted and taken care of. He had no experience in handling a drunk before and he didnīt know what to do. Tears burned in his eyes when he thought that he would mess up once again.
"No," he shouted, "You canīt go. What..what should I do?" His voice came out loud and shirll, mainly out of sheer desperation. "Please donīt leave me," he begged to the two man who was halfway out the door. He knew that he sounded like a cry baby, yet he didnīt care. He was much too young to deal with a passed out AJ!
The two man laughed, "Man, just take off his clothes and place a bucket beside the bed and you'll be just fine. And if that," the words were dragged out and there were a brief pause before Bob continued, "if that doesnt help you can always go and get Johnny." There was laughter again as they shut the door behind him. Nick could hear them through the wall and he knew that they were making fun of his innocence.
"ASSHOLES!" He yelled back at them as he send a pillow into the door. Bob was the only person in the band that Nick didnīt like at all. He was bad news. With a sigh he started to take off AJīs shoes, intent on getting him into bed. The drunken man stirred and weighed a ton as Nick got off his shirt.
"Come on man," he cajoled as any attempt to get AJīs clothes off was failing miserably. His friend weighed a ton.
As any attempt to get AJ to co-operate failed, he decided to let his friend be and instead laid a blanket over him. A loud snore was heard and despite feeling very unsure what to do Nick couldnīt help but grin. Going into the bathroom he picked up the trashcan and placed it beside the bed. If AJ woke up feeling sick he would see the device and hopefully not puke on the floor. Dealing with throw up was something that Nick didnīt exactly look forward too.
Afraid that something would happen, like AJ would choke to death he didnīt dare to go back to bed and instead optioned to sit down on a chair, watching over his friend. Exhaustion swept over him like a fog and looking at his watch he saw that it was already 6 am. The sun was shining through the curtains and soon Johnny would be banging on the door telling them that it was time to leave. AJ was in no state to go on a long bus trip, yet he didnīt think that management would take this into consideration. They showed very little symphathy when someone was sick, but when they suffered from a hangover the sympathy was almost non existent.
