Sprawled on the couch, AJ looked up from the magazine he had been reading, watching Nick pick his way carefully down the aisle of the moving tour bus. There was something different about him, but AJ couldn’t put his finger on what. “Kaos, my little friend, how the fuck are you?”
Instead of the normal quick witted reply back from the blonde, Nick grunted and took the first seat sitting down quickly, bowing his head forward.
“Don’t you feel good buddy?”
Running his had quickly through his uncombed hair, Nick mumbled.
“What did you say?”
Sighing, he swallowed before he could speak. “I’m okay, just a little tired I guess.”
AJ arched an eyebrow as he studied his brother. “You’re not coming down with something again are you?”
The sound of the tires slapping the pavement was the only audible sound as Nick slowly shook his head. He didn’t feel good, but there was no way he would say anything to anyone about it, especially Mr. Pearlman. It wasn’t that he felt sick, Nick thought. It was more that he felt drained, weak and unsteady on his feet at times. He had been following the obese managers directions with the miracle weight loss drink for the past week, only taking small sips and riding out the effects several hours later. His stomach would cramp up and then he would find himself sitting on the throne for about thirty minutes and then he was done.
He had been sworn to secrecy about this miracle diet and Nick wouldn’t dare leak what was going on to his brothers. They would have to kill him to get him to break his agreement witht he manager. He had just finished another bout of diarrhea, compliments of the miracle drink and Nick decided that he was feeling this way because of it.
Although he had been following the instructions, Nick felt that he hadn’t lost a single pound. It took him a day before his stomach had finally settled down after the nonstop vomiting from the flu bug, and he was careful about what he ate and had even stopped snacking. His stomach seemed more bloated today than it had ever been. He rubbed it, trying to calm it down.
AJ picked up on the teen’s actions, grinning. “So when did you say you were due again?”
“Huh?”
AJ stood up and gestured at Nick’s stomach. “The baby, when is it coming again?”
“Leave me the hell alone!” Nick growled.
AJ snickered and stuck his stomach out, waddling as he walked toward the back of the bus.
“Asshole,” Nick mumbled, trying to fight off the tears he felt stinging his eyes. He pulled his tee shirt away from his stomach, hoping to fluff it away from clinging onto his body.
“What the heck has gotten into Bone?”
Closing his eyes, Nick groaned. He didn’t need to have someone else pick on him this afternoon and now Howie was getting involved.
“He was walking around by the kitchenette acting like he was pregnant or something and kept babbling on about pickles.”
“Who knows... he’s a psycho.”
“Nick you don’t look like you feel so hot,” Brian stated as he approached the teen. He placed a hand out to feel Nick’s forehead but was quickly slapped away.
”Don’t,” Nick hissed.
Looking dejected, Brian said in a soft voice, “I was only gonna see if you had a fever.”
Shaking his head, Nick sighed. “As if it would make a difference.”
Brian took the unoccupied seat next to his little brother. “I heard you in the bathroom this morning. I’m about ready to tell Johnny that you need a break for a few days. How long have you been sick?”
Groaning, Nick grabbed his ball cap and shoved it on his head, lowering the bill over his face. “I’m fine.”
“Nick, you could get dehydrated. This is something that could be serious...”
”I said I was fine!”
“Guys, we’re gonna be at the hotel in roughly ten more minutes,” Lou Pearlman warned as he walked into the seating quarters on the tour bus.
“Mr. Pearlman, I’m worried about Nick--”
“You’re always worrying about the boy,” the fat manager sighed. “What about now?”
Brian’s face turned a shade of crimson when he started telling the manager about Nick’s constant bouts of diarrhea.
“Foreign food does that to you. Carter just eats past his limits sometimes, I wouldn’t read into it,” Lou offered, looking at the young blond slouched in his seat. “Right Nickolas?”
“Yeah.” The reply was muffled by the ball cap that was laying over his face. He wished he the floor of the bus would open up and swallow him. Nick wondered how much more humiliation would be heaped on him. The next comment brought tears to his eyes.
“Carter, you look a little chunkier today. What have you been eating?”
Nick quickly jerked the hat off his face, glaring at the obese manager. ”You know exactly what I’ve been eating!”
Lou shifted his weight nervously as he stared at the boy, his mouth agape. Brian and Howie exchanged glances.
“Something going on--”
“Just skip it!” the manager interrupted. “Get your gear around, I don’t want to wait for you people when we arrive at the hotel!”
With that, the fat man quickly turned and waddled off towards the back of the bus.
Nick laid in the bed staring at the red glowing numbers on the night stand. The brilliant glow seemingly mocked not only the time but that fact that someone was actually awake and staring at the digits at this god forsaken hour of the night.
2:48
Rubbing his face as he listened to the steady hisses from Brian’s labored breaths, Nick turned over for practically the fortieth time in a span of fifteen minutes; placing a pillow tightly over his head. Evil thoughts sprung into his mind on how to silence his bandmate’s quiet snores.
Taking the pillow from his head, Nick tossed it over towards Brian’s side of the room. Leaning over to the night stand, he quietly slid the drawer open and grabbed his wallet.
He was bored, he couldn’t sleep, and his body was screwed up with the time changes. There was only one thing that Nick Carter did at night in a hotel when he was bored.
Raid the vending machines.
Dressed in boxers and an over sized tee shirt, Nick padded quietly to the door, grabbing the room card off the dresser as he walked by. Opening the door slightly, he peered out looking up and down the hall, mentally praying that it would be deserted. Only when he decided when the coast was clear did he leave his safe haven, wallet clutched tightly in his hand.
It only took a few moments before Nick spied the small room that contained the soda and snack vending machines. He was relieved to discover that it was tucked in a dead end hall.
Quickly slipping in paper currency, he started punching random numbers, not caring what type of snacks dropped to the bottom of the machine. After selecting several cans of soda, the money in his wallet was finally exhausted.
Hopes for slipping back into the hotel room unnoticed were quickly foiled when Nick heard voices further down the hall. Ducking behind a laundry cart, he squatted, hoping that the noises the chip bags in his arms made weren’t heard by the people that were walking near his hiding spot. His heart sank when he recognized the voice belonging to Lou Pearlman.
‘Shit don’t see me,’ Nick mentally cried; closing his eyes tight, as if that would help conceal him.
“Boy what you doing hiding?”
“I-I h-heard voices and I-I d-didn’t want to be seen,” Nick stammered his explanation, shifting his arms around the bags of snacks, soda cans still tucked under his arms.
“A bit hungry?”
Nick sighed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Brian was snoring and I couldn’t sleep.”
“There’s no need to apologize to me son. I was just coming back from the hotel restaurant,” Lou replied, pulling a white handercheif from his pocket. Nick watched as the fat manager ran the cloth over his sweaty face. “If you weren’t dressed in your pajamas, I would take you down there.”
“Now? It’s like three in the morning. Besides, I’m suppose to be on a diet, remember?”
“That’s nonesence Nick, remember what I told you about the miracle drink? You can eat whatever you want.” The fat man gestured with his chubby index finger. “Come back with me to my room. I’ll order some room service. You’re probably starving.”
Nick hesitated, unsure of the manager’s intentions. “Oh, I don’t know, it’s late and stuff. I’ll just go back to my room and go to bed.”
The manager cast an evil glare at the young teen. “What I just said wasn’t a request. Come with me now!”
Reluctantly, Nick followed the manager’s orders and walked with him back to the hotel room. “Wow.... you have a nice room.”
“Suite,” Pearlman corrected as he laid the room card down on the dresser. He turned and stared at the blond, holding the snacks in his hands. “Put those down, I’m going to order some food. You can eat those as an appetizer.” Seeing Nick hesitate, the manager urged him. “Go ahead son, eat up.”
The fat manager knew what he was doing to the young man was wrong, but in his sick mind, he felt that he was obligated to teach Nick a lesson. He was going to make sure that the boy literally ate until he felt sick.
”I said I’ll be out in a sec, okay?” Nick growled in response to the pounding on the bathroom door. He had been held captive in the facilities for the past fifteen minutes when a bout of diarrhea struck him for the fifth time that morning. He mentally cursed the manager’s idea of the heavy meal in the middle of the night. Lou made him eat way past full and then insisted he drink the special drink to flush his system of the meal.
”You can eat anything you want Nick, but you have to drink this right away or it will turn into fat.” The manager’s words from last night echoed in his head.
”NICK GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE SO WE CAN DO THIS GODDAMN SHOOT!”
“What the hell crawled up your ASS?”
”YOU DID..... GET OUT OF THE RESTROOM NOW!”
“Why are you being such a hardass to me Kev?” Nick asked as he opened the bathroom door.
“Because I told Kristen I would be calling her at 1:00 and you’re dinking around is going to put us way past schedule. You look like shit.”
“God, why are you picking on me?” A loud burp escaped his mouth, prompting Nick to quickly slap his hand over his mouth.
”Clean up your act... there are people watching you,” Kevin hissed as he grabbed his young brother by an arm.
“YO NICKSTER!” AJ whooped as Nick and Kevin entered the studio. “Hey you look like shit.”
“Are you feeling alright?” Howie questioned as he watched Nick slowly sit down.
Nick waved the Latino off. “I’m fine, my stomach is really upset this morning.” He burped with his mouth closed as if his body was trying to convince Howie how he felt.
“I don’t want to sound mean, but Lou was right when he said something about Nick looking a little heavier,” Brian whispered in his cousin’s ear.
“Well, Nick is trying to blame his overeating on people now,” Kevin replied, sighing.
Brian raised an eyebrow as he trained his vision toward Nick across the room. “He is?”
“Yeah, he said that Mr. Pearlman forced him to eat a huge meal this morning at four o’clock.”
Brian shook his head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I wished I was but that’s Nick’s excuse now. So I supose if he starts packing more weight on he’ll come up with Mr. Pearlman wanted me to get fat or something dumb like that.”
“Hey I need to go to the restroom,” Nick announced as he stood up.
“Oh no you don’t,” Kevin hissed. “Stay put. This will be over soon enough.”
“B-but I have to go bad and they haven’t started yet.”
“Okay, Nick I’d like you to sit on the red stool, please.”
Reluctantly, Nick followed the photographer’s directions, taking the assigned seat.
“Howie, you take the stool next to Nick.”
Nick moaned and softly rubbed his stomach as it started to churn. If it wasn’t his stomach churning, the gas that bloated his stomach was trying to find an escape route either upwards or down and he knew that to fart right now was not only unpractical, it could be a lethal decision.
“Nick, I need you to stand up again so I can adjust the stool.”
Obeying, Nick slowly managed to a standing position. He could feel his stomach trying to tell him that something was wrong and it needed relief one way or another. “I’ll be right back.”
“No you don’t Nick, stay where you are!” Kevin directed.
Sitting down once again, Nick waited patiently for the rest of his bandmates to be situated for the first in a series of ten of the pose the photographer desired. He wanted desperately to run to the bathroom; more importantly, he wanted to run his fingers through his aching scalp. He knew both was something that would only delay the session longer.
The bathroom because he would be away from the camera, the latter because he would have messed his hair up again.
“Good.... okay everyone sit with serious faces...” the photographer droned on as he clicked away picture after picture of the five young men. He noticed that the ‘heartthrob’ of the group seemed to be out of sorts this morning. Looking through the viewfinder, he also noticed that the heartthrob was also starting to look chubby.
“Okay.. now a few more and we can have a change in positions. Slight smiles now people,” the man ordered as he busily started clicking away on the camera. “Nick.... I said said to smile now, not hard.”
Acting came in handy this morning for Nick. As bloated and sick as his stomach felt, he managed the innocent smile the photog was desiring. The innocent smile was hiding the evil thoughts that were floating around in his brian. He needed relief and there was two ways to get it. He knew he wouldn’t be allowed time to get up and use the bathroom but Nick wondered if maybe he’d feel better if he let a little gas escape, take the pressure off his protesting stomach.
Thankfully, the fart was quiet but the innocence of his deeds did not go unnoticed. Shifting on the stool, Nick coughed, embarrassment stained his cheeks.
”OH MY GOD!” AJ rasped, pulling his shirt over his mouth and nose. ”WHO THE FUCK DIED!?”
”AJJEE!”
Kevin growled.
“Wasn’t me dude,” AJ defended, holding his hands up in the air.
Nick caught Howie’s look from the corner of his eyes, wishing he could crawl off the stool and to freedom behind a closed door. He casually waved his hand behind him, trying to fan the smell away from the group.
“Who the heck floated the air biscuit?” Brian scowled, directing his looks at AJ.
“Why the hell do you people always assume it’s me?” AJ barked. “Besides, Brian, it’s called FARTING get the term right. FART or SHIT YOUR PANTS! I bet Kaos laid that one out. Did you mess your pants?”
“I don’t feel so good,” Nick mumbled, trying to ignore the photographers glare.
“Well thanks to you kid, none of us feel good anymore!” AJ grumbled, standing up from the stool watching as Kevin rushed over to the windows, promptly opening several.
“God, we need to take a ten minute break. Change into your next outfit,” the photographer huffed, setting his camera ontop of a table as he turned to leave the room.
“Like ten minutes will clear this room,” AJ mumbled as he drew a cigarette and his lighter from his back pocket. Brian quickly clamped a hand on the tatooed man’s forearm.
“NO! There’s gas leakage in here!”
“I have your revised sche.....what the hell died in here?” Johnny questioned as he entered the studio.
”NICK!” came the unanimous response.
Since he was already blamed for his deed and he still had a cramp in his lower pelvic region, Nick allowed another fart to escape. This time it wasn’t quiet.
”PHHHHFFFFFTTTT.”
AJ made fake gagging noises and quickly put his shirt over his mouth and nose, bolting for the door. Howie jumped up, knocking his stool onto the floor, following his best friend.
“Way to clear out the room kiddo,” Johnny glared.
“Bri and me are going to get changed for the next set. Nick see if you can control your bodily functions so we can get the hell out of here,” Kevin spat as he trudged out of the room.
The black manager stared at the blond sitting on the stool, embarrassement clearly etched on the teen’s face. “Care to explain why you’ve lost all of your manners this morning?”
Nick shrugged his shoulders. “My stomach is bothering me.”
Johnny frowned. “Why is that?”
“You know....that drink.”
“What drink? Did you go out with D and Bone clubbing or something?”
Nick ran a tired hand through his hair. ”NO! You know... it’s that drink the diet thing Mr. Pearlman wants me on.”
Johnny could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Pounding from fear and from anger. “You shouldn’t be farting when you’ve been drinking that drink then. It could have disasterous consequences.”
“I know, but I couldn’t stop it,” Nick explained.
“Well, I guess when you have an empty stomach it probably makes it worse,” Johnny advised as he started thumbing through the schedule.
“My stomach wasn’t empty though.”
The manager’s head jerked up. “What?”
“Mr. Pearlman stuffed me with food last night. He told me to keep eating way past full. I told him I was hurting but he forced me to keep eating. No one believes me, but it’s true. I didn’t do this by choice.”
“That sonofabitch,” Johnny breathed.
“Can I be excused? I need to go to the bathroom bad,” Nick squeaked.
“Yes, please do that, and you better get dressed for the next set.”
Johnny watched the young teen make a fast exit from the room toward the facilities. Heat from anger flushed his face. He needed to speak with Pearlman about the recent stunt he had pulled on the innocent kid. Threats or no threats held against him, Johnny morally had to do something before the boy gets hurt.
He had to plea his case and hopefully Lou Pearlman would listen.
