Nick stared at his sweaty reflection in the eerie glow of the mirror that was propped off stage. He was absorbed in what he saw, taking in every feature. Instead of seeing a young man whose face was flushed from playing to 20,000 screaming fans, Nick’s critical eyes only saw a bloated face that was red and sweaty from the stress that was placed on his weight taxed body.
“Kid, you gotta get back out there, you’re gonna miss your cue!”
“He’s spaced out again!”
“Nicky! C’mon, we gotta get back out there!”
Nick jerked when he felt a forceful poke on his shoulder. “Huh?”
“Showtime buddy, remember it’s what we’re suppose to do,” Kevin barked into Nick’s ear. His facial expression quickly changed from irritation to sympathetic. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Nick grunted as he adusted the headset.
It was all one big lie but there wasn’t anyway he was going to cry to Kevin about what he was thinking, god forbid how he was feeling, Nick decided as he followed his brother out onto the stage.
Taking his usual position on stage, Nick couldn’t help but notice the nasty look he got from Tommy and he knew that the man wasn’t happy that he more than likely had to play the intro to the next song five times over before he finally appeared onstage to start the next segment in the concert.
Shrugging his shoulders as he directed his gaze towards the floor, Nick decided that it was, after all, Tommy’s job so he would have to deal with it.
The speech Lou Pearlman had said to Nick the other day weighed heavily in his heart and mind. He was more aware of all of the steps he made as well as the way he breathed, talked, even sang into the headset. All he could think of when camera flashes went off was that the pictures would produce more evidence for Lou to be on his case about his appearance.
The preshow catered meal was a disaster and although he was practically starving, Nick didn’t touch a morsel, only sticking to bottled water, in his desperate hopes of shedding the three pounds that had mysteriously showed up at the weigh in the other day. Instead of feeling energized, he felt dizzy.
Brian couldn’t help but notice how Nick was acting a little “off” during the show and kept his eyes trained on his little brother. He hoped that it was only the cold that Nick had caught that was bothering the young man. His gaze connected with his cousin’s several times during the second half of the show and Kevin gave Brian a slight nod as if to say “I can see it too.”
At the end of the show, Brian stood next to Nick and took his hand for their final bow. Flipping the microphone away from his mouth, Brian leaned toward his brother. “Are you feeling alright?” he yelled above the roar of the packed venue.
Nick scowled. “Huh?”
”I said ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”
Brian dropped with the questioning when he realized that he wasn’t getting anywhere without looking obvious on stage and continued taking the bows and playing to the crowd. After the boys ran off to the side, Brian stopped Nick.
“Are you feeling okay?”
The sound tech stepped in front of Brian and Nick. “I need the headsets people!”
In a sweeping motion, both pulled the equipment off their heads, handing it to the young woman, Nick never stopping the whole time, Brian tagging along behind.
“Are you feeling okay?” Brian pressed.
Nick continued toward the dressing room, anxious to get his gear so he could get back to the hotel and take a shower. A firm hand on his right forearm told him otherwise.
“I asked you a question,” Brian tried again, moving his hand toward Nick’s face.
Nick quickly shied away from the hand. “What are you doing?”
“I wanna see if you have a temp.”
“Jesus Bri, leave me alone!”
Nick trudged toward the dressing room, leaving Brian standing alone. Instead of letting the topic drop, Brian half ran, half walked after the tall blond. “You know you should tell someone if you’re sick.”
He stopped at the door, his shoulders sagging. Nick never turned to face his older band brother. “What part of leave me alone didn’t you understand?”
“Better hurry up, bus is going to leave without you people,” Johnny barked as he walked past.
Brian followed Nick into the room and grabbed his duffle bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “You know you should tell someone if you don’t feel good Nick.”
Nick didn’t look up as he grabbed his Nintendo Game Boy and a sweatshirt, throwing it roughly into the dark backpack. “Yeah, but there’s nothing wrong and it wouldn’t make any difference if I did. Just drop it.”
Laying in bed, Nick was determined to avoid the temptations his body was sending his brain. It was insisting that he needed food.
Now.
Room service had mysteriously showed up an hour after he had arrived back from the venue and the hostess refused to take no for an answer when he tried to get her to take the tray back. The smells from the cart was tempting, but Nick kept himself strong, not daring to lift a cover off of any of the platters.
Now it was as if the food was calling out to his food deprived mind.
Rolling over, Nick grabbed a pillow and pulled it over his head, trying to block out the cart and the thoughts of eating.
“Be strong Carter, you don’t need this,” he coached himself.
Several minutes of trying to push the thoughts that his stomach was hurting from being empty, Nick rolled over and grabbed the phone, punching in the number to AJ and Howie’s room. After several rings, someone finally answered.
“Yeah.”
“Howie? It’s Nick.”
A loud yawn was offered in reply followed by the sound of a light clicking on in the background. “Nick, it’s one o’clock in the morning, go to sleep.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Then eat,” Howie mumbled.
“I can’t.”
The normally peaceful Howie Dorough sighed impatiently. “Why not?”
“I just can’t.”
A loud sigh was heard from the Latino. “You called me at 1 am to tell me that you can’t eat? Good night Nick.”
“But..” The sound of a dial tone in his ear announced to Nick that Howie’s end of the conversation was over.
“God, at least weight watchers has friends you can call,” Nick mumbled as he softly placed the receiver back onto the cradle.
Staring at the food cart, Nick finally threw the covers off his legs and quietly padded over to look at the contents on the platters. His hopes that there would be spinache casserole and sushi were soon dashed when he discovered a greasy cheeseburger, golden brown onion rings and a pile of french fries. Another plate held a generous slab of rich chocolate cake and a third held a dish which probably had ice cream in it but it was now melted into a pool of vanilla liquid.
Before he realized what he had done, a ‘little taste’ ended up being a ravenous binge and Nick had consumed everthing that was offered on the room service cart.
“Oh shit, what did I do?” he moaned as his stomach protested the unreasonable amount of food that he had stuffed into it.
Dismay quickly turned to humilitiation. He wanted to crawl back into his bed and hide. “You’re nothing but a pig. How can you keep doing this to yourself?”
Looking in the mirror, all Nick could see was the fat that would surely appear once the food was digested into his body. The boxers that he had worn to bed felt tight around his bloated waist, only physically confirming to Nick that he was a fat pig.
The humiliation turned to anger when his eyes fell onto the room service bill. It wasn’t the amount of food that was listed on the bill that got Nick upset. It was the name on the bill that made his face flush with anger. The name and the notation: Send confirmation and billing invoice to Mr. Louis Pearlman, Suite 1418.
He had been set up!
“AJ.... is that you?”
A loud belch followed by a series of hiccups verified the tattooed man’s presence in the room.
Rolling over to look at the clock, Howie squinted. “They must not have last call in this country.”
“I got tired,” AJ slurred, sitting down heavily on Howie’s bed, hitting the Latino in the foot. He quickly mumbled an apology as he leaned forward to cradle his head in his hands.
“I didn’t think your arm could get tired.”
“Ha, funny.”
“I got an odd call from Nick a little bit ago.”
AJ kept his head down. “About what?”
“He said he was hungry.”
“And that was odd? We’re talking about Nick Carter, human eating machine.”
“Yeah, but I guess I was sort of nasty to him and hung up on him.”
“God D, *hic* you’re only human, you *hic* be perfect 24/7,” came the slurred reply.
“I guess. Why don’t you go lay on your bed and try to sleep off that hangover you’ll be getting.”
AJ stood up, swaying. “Whoa, head rush,” he snickered. “For the record, I’m not drunk.”
Drawing the blankets up to his chin, Howie mumbled. “Yeah and I’m the Pope.”
It only took a few moments before Howie was fast asleep and snoring softly.
As best as he could, AJ tiptoed toward the door, putting his index finger to his lips when he accidentally bumped the dresser on his way out. Softly closing the door behind him, he was thankful to see that the halls were empty.
AJ glanced at the food service cart as he pounded loudly on Nick’s door. “Judas, he wasn’t kidding. Open up in Nick!”
Reaching down to jiggle the handle, he discovered it was unlocked. ‘What a dumbass, Lou would be pissed if he knew Nick was a sitting duck in an unlocked room,’ AJ thought to himself.
With a smirk on his face, he shouted, “Hey Nicky, why the hell didn’t you lock up when you came back? Are you expecting some company?”
As he waited for Nick to reply with one of his smart come backs, AJ thought he heard the sound of someone gagging and throwing up. Rushing through the unlocked door, AJ stood outside of the bathroom door, wincing as he heard Nick getting sick. “Shit man, what’s wrong with you?”
As he waited for a reply, he heard the sounds of Nick coughing, the toilet flushing and water being turned on in the sink. Feeling that Nick didn’t hear him when he came in, AJ timidly knocked on the bathroom door.
The door quickly flung open and Nick came out, wiping his hands with a towel. AJ eyed Nick’s blotchy, sweaty complextion.
“How..” Nick stopped to clear his throat. “How did you get in here?”
“Your door was unlocked, do you always leave your room door unlocked?”
“I must not have shut it tight when I came in.”
“Yeah or probably when you let room service leave.”
AJ could see Nick’s posture stiffen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Nicky, I saw the room service cart outside your door..”
Nick threw the towel into a corner by the beds. “That doesn’t mean it’s mine!”
“You called Howie and told him you were hungry...”
A dark look crept over Nick’s face. “Have you been drinking?”
“Nice try on changing the subject. Why were you getting sick?”
“I-I’m still getting over that flu.”
As he approached the younger band memeber, AJ held his hand out to check Nick’s forehead. Nick successfully ducked.
“Are you freakin’ queer or something?”
“I wanted to see if you have a temp since you say you’re sick.”
“Why don’t you go take a flying leap or something? Isn’t there a bottle of JD callin’ you?”
“Nick, if there’s something you want to tell me, you know I’ll listen to you....”
Walking toward the front door, Nick fumbled with the knob a few times before he was successful in throwing the door open. “Go back to your room and sleep it off!”
“Why does everyone think I’m drunk?”
“Because you are. Leave. Here. Now.”
Reluctantly, AJ walked toward the open door, pausing beside his young brother, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You know you can talk to me Kaos. Anytime you need someone to listen to you, you can count on me. I won’t go back and tell anyone what we talk about, okay?”
Nick shrugged AJ’s hand off his shoulder. “Yeah. I’ll make a note of it. Go to bed.”
AJ had no other choice but to leave the room when Nick gently pushed on his back. Hearing the click of the door and the sound of the dead bolt being slid into place, he knew that Nick had ended the conversation for tonight.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Nick leaned his elbows on his knees, placing his head in his hands. Suddenly he felt out of control. He wasn’t happy with how his life was going, the demands that were constantly being placed on him and now he felt that he was a failure in everything he tried to do.
