“Where the hell is that kid?” Kevin questioned as he glanced at his watch again.
AJ turned the page of the newspaper he was reading, and shook his head. “Well, I suppose little Nick is probably nursing one hell of a hangover this morning.”
Brian’s head shot up. “You were out clubbing with Nick last night?”
Lowering the paper, AJ peered at Brian. “Why do you automatically assume I was out clubbing just because Nick has a hangover?”
Brian sighed loudly. “Nevermind.”
“No, seriously, why would you assume that?” AJ pressed.
“Because, dumbass, you have a history of clubbing,” Howie pointed out.
“That, my friend, was last year. Nick’s little pal Mikey seems to be the fan of the clubs now and he can’t say no to his boss, so if Nick wants to go to the bars, Nick goes to the bars! Leave me out of this man!”
Kevin wasn’t accepting AJ’s excuse. He pulled the paper out of his grasp.
”HEY WHAT THE HELL!” AJ yelled as the paper ripped.
“Spill it! How the hell do you know then that Nick has a hangover?” Kevin asked in a calm, even tone.
AJ looked at the faces in the room, all focused on his own face. “I know he has a hangover because I busted him last night drinking JD in his room.”
“Who was with him beside you then?” Brian questioned.
“I was the only person in there and he was pretty shitfaced when I found him.”
“So you let him drink?” Kevin asked, his green eyes nearly piercing through AJ’s eyes.
“No, dumbass, I took the half empty bottle and dumped it down the sink after some arguing with the boy. He was pissed but I told him he had had enough to drink for a day and then I left.”
“You left?” Howie, Brian and Kevin questioned in unison.
AJ glanced around the room and shifted in his seat nervously. “Yeah, I left, why?”
Kevin jumped up from his chair and punched some numbers into the phone. “Yeah, I need someone to go down to Nick’s room and bring him to 638.” After slamming the reciever back onto the cradle, Kevin turned around quickly to face AJ. “Because, YOU, yourself told us that Nick was shitfaced. On JD of all things! Hard liquor! Are you that stupid to leave him alone?”
“Kev, take it easy--” Howie pleaded.
Kevin ran his hands through his hair and shook his head.
Juan sighed as he hung up after speaking with Kevin Richardson. He glanced warily over at Mike, Nick’s bodyguard, sound asleep, snoring loudly.
“Mikey, get your fat ass up, Carter needs to be brought down to room 638, he’s late!”
“Mmmphf?” Mike snorted and then rolled over.
Shaking his head, Juan slipped his room card in his shirt pocket, grabbed his two way radio and stepped out into the hall. Just as he anticipated, there were dozens of girls wandering up and down the hallway, no doubt in search of one of the guys. “Good hotel security,” Juan mumbled as he headed down the hall towards Nick’s room.
Standing at the door, Juan gently knocked at first. He waited a few moments for some type of sound or acknowledgement from the other side. He didn’t want to call out Nick’s name only because it would attract attention. “Judas, I wish those girls would clear the floor,” Juan scowled as he spoke under his breath.
He knocked a second time, but it was firmer than the last.
“Comeon...comeon, what the hell,” Juan mumbled as he kept looking over his shoulders waiting for the roaming girls to start getting clued in to what Juan was doing.
Desperate, Juan took his fist and started banging on the door. “Wake up buddy, you’re late!” he yelled into the closed door, not caring about the stares from the crowd that was starting to drift closer to the closed door.
Juan realized he had no other choice when he clicked on the two way radio. He spoke in a slow, concise manner into the speaker. “Yeah, I need security with a master key to room 716 immediately, there’s something wrong.” Juan turned his back to the door and leaned against it, sighing.
“Who’s door is that?” a young girl that was obviously a Backstreet fan - her shirt adorned with the names of the boys as well as their faces - bravely asked.
Juan didn’t answer the girl, he just glanced her way and then returned his gaze to the ceiling.
“Is it one of their rooms?” another girl demanded, a mixture of exitement and fear etched on her face.
“It’s one of the band members rooms,” Juan lied, well it was half a lie, Nick was in the band.
“Well, what’s wrong?”
“How about all of you go back to your own little rooms, I’m sure your mommies and your daddies are looking for your asses,” Juan hissed.
A few of the young girls in the crowd immediately turned away and ran from Juan. Several remained, arms folded across their chests, feet firmly planted on the floor.
Thankfully, before things became too ugly, a man dressed in a navy blue polo shirt and tan pants entered the hall from the stairwell at the end of the hall. He rushed quickly to where Juan and the group of girls were standing and pulled out his pass card from the set of cards that were attached to a heavy silver chain.
Slipping the card into the slot and pushing the door partway open, the man announced loudly, “Hotel security.”
Juan and the man from hotel security cautiously entered Nick’s room. The room was dark and both men were uncertain of what they were going to find. They saw Nick laying diagonally across the king size bed, fully dressed.
Once he was closer to Nick and saw that his lips were blue and the color drained from his face, Juan started to slap Nick’s face and shout his name over and over.
“We need an ambulance up to room 716 stat! Man unconscious!” the hotel security man shouted into his two way.
“Oh fuck,” Juan shouted. “NICK!”
