Where Can We Go From Here?

Chapter 1 – Dark Highway

Nick Carter tossed his bag carelessly on the floor beside his bunk. All he wanted to do was sleep. He’d started coming down with something after leaving St. Louis, and he was getting to the point where he couldn’t hide it anymore. He hoped that whatever the bug was it went away by the next show. Performing while sick was number one on his “Things That Suck” list.

He was preparing to crawl into bed when Brian came up behind him, absently humming the tune from “Back To Your Heart” while looking intently at a schedule for the next day.

“Man we are booked,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know about you Frack, but I’ll be ready for our break.”

“Yeah,” Nick muttered. “Me too.”

Brian looked up from his paper and frowned slightly at his friend. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “Some of our harmonies seemed a little off tonight. Did you notice anything?”

Nick shot him an annoyed glance. He was exhausted and sick and didn’t want to hear Brian’s criticism. “Don’t you mean to say I was off?”

Brian’s blue eyes opened a little wider. “It was just an observation. You’re usually right on target.”

“I don’t need to hear this from you right now, if you don’t mind.” Nick closed his eyes, feeling his headache double in intensity.

“Well you don’t have to jump on me. I was just trying to help. Is something wrong?”

Nick rolled his eyes and used his superior height to look down condescendingly on his shorter friend. “Nothing is wrong, Brian,” he said patronizingly. “I just don’t need you mothering me all the time. I can take care of things myself. Please go away and leave me alone.”

Brian’s concern changed quickly to irritation. He was tired and his temper was short. “I didn’t know it was a crime to be concerned about your friends. Why don’t you grow up a little?”

“In case you missed what I said a few seconds ago, let me say it again. Shut up and go away.”

Brian was taken aback. A tiny voice in the back of his head was telling him over and over to shut up and drop it, but right then as far as he was concerned that little voice could go straight to hell. “You know what?” he said angrily. “I am so tired of your shit. You have been blowing everyone off for the past three days and I want to know what the hell is your problem!”

“Brian,” Nick said slowly and deliberately. “Fuck. Off.”

Now Brian was furious. It wasn’t like him to lose it so quickly, but tonight just wasn’t his night. It never was the day after he let A.J. take him out partying. “You know what? Screw you. I swear, you can be such a whiny brat Nick, and as far as I’m concerned you can just go straight to hell and not come back. I don’t want anything to do with you and your ‘pop star’ attitude. I am so glad this tour is almost over, because dealing with you another day is just asking too much!” He crumpled up the paper and threw it forcefully at Nick’s feet and stormed off to the living area of the bus.

Nick closed his eyes and got into his bed. I’m sorry, he thought miserably. Shit, Carter. You really did well on that, didn’t you? Your own best friend can’t stand the sight of you. Way to go. He sniffled a little and wiped his nose on his sleeve, unable to shake the disgust in Brian’s voice. He never yelled at him like that. With a forlorn sigh, Nick pulled out more aspirin from a pocket of his bag and popped two into his mouth, knowing it wouldn’t do him any good. As he was about to doze off, Kevin, A.J. and Howie finally made their way noisily onto the bus. Nick groaned. He was never going to get any sleep.

“Yo, yo Howie!” A.J. called.

“Yeah, man?” Howie said, tossing a bag up onto his bunk.

“Did you see how hard it’s raining out there now?”

“I walked through it didn’t I?” He said shooting an exasperated grin in A.J.’s direction. “I’m as wet as you are.”

“Isn’t San Antonio supposed to be a desert or some shit? Dude, Jackson, can you even see out there?”

“Not as well as I’d like,” their driver said with a lopsided grin. “We’re gonna take it slow out of here, just to be safe.”

“Slow?” Kevin interjected, feigning shock. “You? Somebody better buy the devil a parka.”

“I think A.J. already has one,” he cracked.

Kevin guffawed loudly. “I’m gonna tell him you said that.”

“You do and I’ll take you to Bumfuck, North Dakota instead of Houston.”

“I think we’ve been there!” Howie yelled at them from the opposite end of the bus.

The oldest Backstreet Boy snickered as he walked on through the sleeping area. The engine of their bus roared to life under his feet, engaging in that familiar thrum that had become the song of their lives. Mile after mile the highway rolled steadily on beneath them, so much a part of them that it almost seemed like a living thing. Kevin smirked at the thought. The real Backstreet Boys: Nick, A.J., Howie, Brian, Kevin, and The Road. He exhaled a deep breath through narrowly parted lips. It was definitely too late (or was it too early?) to try and be profound. He paused by Nick’s bunk, seeing that the curtain was already drawn. “That was quick, Kaos,” he remarked, rapping his knuckles lightly on the outer edge. “Come on, Nick, we’ve got to have a group meeting before you can crash.”

“Don’t bother with him,” Brian said disgustedly as he came over to stand with his cousin. “He is in one hell of a mood.”

“Is that so?” Kevin raised an eyebrow, silently asking what was the matter. Instead of Brian though, he got a reply from Nick.

“Kevin, it would be great if I could skip this one. I’m really tired.”

“It’d be really great if he’d drop dead,” Brian muttered quietly under his breath. Nick heard him anyway, and behind his curtain his mouth fell open. Brian’s words were like a kick in the stomach.

Kevin elbowed his cousin sharply in the ribs. Brian grunted and then threw up his arms. “I’m outta here,” he said disgustedly, and walked back to the table in the back where Howie and A.J. had already made themselves comfortable, chatting about nothing.

“Dude, what is up with you and Nick?” A.J. asked him as he sat down.

“Oh, he’s just being difficult.” Brian rubbed his eyes.

“You’re looking a little tired, Rok,” Howie observed.

“Aren’t you?” Brian replied.

“Of course. But you look like you’ve been run over by a cement truck. Twice.”

“It’s the new look. I’m setting a trend,” he joked.

A.J. grinned and slapped him on the back. “Now that is a look that even I would not try. And that should tell you something right there.”

Brian chuckled and then sighed. “Maybe I was a little hard on him. We’re all tired this late in the tour, who are we kidding? I lost my temper.”

“What did you say to him?” Howie asked sympathetically.

“I hollered at him. I was an ass. But so was he.”

“He has been acting a little weird since St. Louis,” Howie said thoughtfully. “I wonder what could be wrong.”

“Well, I’ve asked him a couple of times, and except for just now when he told me to fuck off, he said he was absolutely fine.”

A.J. removed his feet from the table and let them drop to the floor with a thud. He leaned forward and placed his palms flat on the table with a loud thwack. “He told you to fuck off?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yeah.”

“He says that to me all of the time, but I’ve never heard him say it to you and mean it.” A.J. said. “That is interesting.”

“That’s what you call it,” Brian muttered, shaking his head. He glanced at his watch. “What the hell is Kevin doing?” he wondered, and angled his head to look over towards the bunks, where he assumed his cousin was still standing, trying to convince Nick to show himself.

“Don’t sweat it, you’ll both get over it.” A.J. said swinging his feet back on the table.

Howie gave him a Look. “Bone, do you ever wash your socks?” he said in disgust. “You could probably register those things as a new species of life. McLeanians. Found only in the darkest reaches of A.J. McLean’s four month old laundry. Gross!” he made a terrible face as A.J. tried shoving his feet in Howie’s lap. “Get your scrawny ass legs away from me!”

“Whoo!” A.J. whooped with a grin. “Howie D. has spoken!”

Howie laughed and shook his head. A.J. had that knack for making sheer exhaustion the most amusing part of what they did. “What the hell are you on Bone? Do you know how long we’ve been awake? Wait, don’t answer. If I hear, I’ll cry.”

A.J. tried to look serious for a moment and failed. “Let’s just say I am feeling a success high right now. We are on top of the world right now, and I am determined to enjoy every minute. Nothing is gonna knock me down, especially you guys.”

* * *

Kevin gave up trying to coax Nick out of his bunk. He was beginning to suspect that the younger man was sick, and with more than just a cold or a touch of the flu. Nick had that habit if denying that he felt bad until it started to get serious. Why he did it, Kevin didn’t know, though it probably stemmed through too much ribbing from the other fellas when he was younger. Being sick and being away from home had not been something Nick had dealt well with in their earlier years. I guess we can save the meeting until the morning, Kevin thought. He poked his head into the driver’s seat before he headed to the back.

“How’re the roads, Jackson?” he asked.

“Not too bad,” the driver replied. “Rain is still coming down pretty hard, so it’s slow going. But we’ll get there eventually.”

Kevin allowed his gaze to drift to the flat, dark highway. It was fairly deserted; he could only a lone set of headlights from the other direction off in the distance. It was actually a little creepy, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. Chalking it up to exhaustion, he said goodnight. Jackson said nothing; he was concentrating too hard on the vehicle in the distance. Kevin shrugged and turned to leave. Now that sleep was on his mind, he was intent on getting some.

He had not gotten more than a few steps when the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up, and a strange sensation overtook him, almost like he was flying. Before he knew what hit him, Kevin was slammed forcibly into a wall of bunks. He had barely registered that something had gone wrong when the bus swerved again. This time, another body was hurled at him, a tangled mass of flailing legs and blonde hair.

“Nick!” he yelled at his band mate who was suddenly on top of him. Nick had been on the verge of sleep when he was thrown, and as he was catapulted from his state of near-sleep he struck his head brutally against the wall.

“Are you ok?” Kevin cried, trying to get a grip on the boy. Nick never had the chance to answer.

The sound of screeching brakes and splintering glass ripped through the starless night, skewing that steady musical thrum into a high pitched scream that destroyed the careful harmony the years had created and scattered it mercilessly to the darkness, where no one would find it again.

Brian stood up from the table. “I’m gonna go see what the hell is taking Kevin so long,” he called over his shoulder to A.J. and Howie. The words were not even fully uttered when the ground was yanked out from underneath him. He was flung to the ground like a rag doll, landing painfully on his side.

“What the…” A.J. cried as he was thrown from his seat. He had barely struck the floor when things went bad.

In a moment that his brain would never allow himself to remember, Brian was flung mercilessly against side of the bus, where he felt an explosion against his back as the glass of the window shattered upon his impact with it. As the ground came rushing up to meet him, he was dimly aware of the shock of the cold rain hitting his torn skin. And then he could remember no more.

Chapter 2

Index