Nick Carter, the 19 years old Backstreet Boy and one of the biggest heart-throbs among teenage girls watched the others discussing the issue, his arms crossed, a sullen look on his face. The meeting's been dragging for over an hour- he wondered if it was worth it.
"..... And to sum it up, we have to ask the person in question," Jeff, the band's Co-manager, said dryly. "Nick?"
He scowled. "I don't need a goddamned keeper," he snapped.
"Ah, but you're missing the point here," AJ cut in. "You do need one. And fast."
"I can look after myself."
"Not in this case," Denise, the band's publicist (also AJ's mom) spoke in, a sympathetic look on her face. "This is serious, Nick."
" I'm alright with the guys; Marcus does a good job- so does Billy." Nick protested. "Why do I need another one?"
"You know why," Mike, the product manager, said gravely. "The normal security can't possibly look after everyone AND stay with you 24/7; in fact, every waking moments."
Nick said nothing. He was frustrated- and angry. He sat there, brooding.
Nick got it- perfectly. " If I stuff up, you mean," he snapped.
Brian had had enough. "Nick," he said irritably, "Stop being so difficult."
"I'm not-" Nick started to retort, then saw everyone's eyes on him; How, AJ, Kevin, Brian; Jeff and Julian, the managers; Mark, Kim, Nicole and Alex- the recording executives; Denise, Mike, the Band- Tommy, Bubba, Guy, Mindy, Denis and Paul; and finally the security- Marcus, Billy, Remo, Carlos and Mark.
"Can't you reason with him?" Kevin said, exasperated.
Brian stared after the door, shaking his head. "Apparently not." He said resignedly.
"C'mon, guys- give him a break. He's going through a tough time," Howie said in Nick's defence.
"Hell, we know that," AJ muttered. "We're just trying to help, that's all."
Julian turned to Mike. "Found anyone yet?"
Mike shook his head. "Not yet- it's hard to employ a professional nowadays." He said ruefully.
"I want this caller gone," the manager whispered grimly. "The whole tour depends on this. I need all of them 100% up on stage."
" I know," Mike whispered back. "He's not going to like it."
Julian shrugged. " I'll talk to Jane; she'll agree with me."
"Let's hope so."
Julian, the manager, spoke up. "Nick, as much as we understand that this is difficult for you and your family, the tour's coming up soon and it's too important for - well, any stuff-ups," he said carefully. "You get what I'm sayin'?"
Each face, each pair of eyes were a mixture of expressions. Some were worry, some rueful, some annoyed, reproachful, and more. Nick's scowl darkened. He got up. "No way am I getting a baby sitter," he muttered angrily. "So forget about the idea." He stormed out of the room, slamming the door in the process. Billy quickly followed.
Rachael stared out the window down at the busy New York streets, lost in thought.
The rain beating themselves on the glass distorted her vision, and occasional flashes of jagged lightning lit up the sky.
"I don't understand it," Frank muttered, shifting through the masses of files on his desk. "Why is it that every goddamned stars manage to get themselves into trouble nowadays- damnit, where that fax copy?" He stopped and glared at Rachael. "Will you stop staring at the god forsaken weather and help me here?" he snapped.
"Cool off, Frank," Cassie smiled. "Rachael's, in one of her moods again." She looked at her sister. "Right, Rocky?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah," Rachael muttered absently, not turning around. Cassie gave Frank a see-what-I-mean look. He sighed and went back looking for the missing fax.
Cassie got up from her comfortable seat and walked over to Rachael. "Seriously, are you alright?" she asked softly.
Her sister's brow twisted into a small frown. "Yeah," she said finally.
"Aha!" Frank's triumphant cry made them turn around. He stood there, holding a fax copy longer then himself, grinning. "Harrison, your job's here."
Rachael smiled sardonically. "You sure know how to make someone feel needed," she noted dryly.
Frank shot her a flashing grin. "You know me." He handed her the fax. " This one's a big one," he said gleefully.
Rachael scanned the paper. After a moment, she looked up, her brows arched. " And for this you cancelled my vacation? I'm disappointed in you, Frank."
"Hey, I had no choice; the others were all booked, and you were the only available one," he said defensively.
"What about Pierce?"
He gave a disgusted snort. "He came down with pneumonia- maybe I shouldn't have sent him to England at this time of the year."
Rachael chuckled. "Alright, alright- excuse taken." She looked at the paper. "What's the problem here?"
"Obscene calls. Threat on life as well. They need a bodyguard and a detective double quick. Naturally I chose you."
"Thanks," she replied dryly, making a face. "It's probably some obsessed fan- you know those cases." She glanced at the paper. "Especially him," she added thoughtfully.
Frank sat back in his chair. "Look, Rocky- it'll be only for two months. I know you can handle it. Besides, it'll be a piece of cake." He grinned. "Think of it as a vacation."
Rachael's mind threw up the images of thousands of girls screaming day after day and shuddered. If that was Frank's idea of a break, boy, did he need a vacation.
Frank coughed, jolting her out of the trail of thoughts. "You'd better get down there and check out the situation. If you two hit it off, I'll be expecting results."
"I find that hard to believe," Cassie murmured.
Frank glared at her. " Are you Harrison family all like this?" he asked plaintively.
Rachael smirked. " You have no idea."
He groaned.
