Chapter Nineteen
Written by Lara
© 2001

NICK

I had never been so happy to finish a tour. We had gone back on the road in the summer in the US, and then we did a quick mini-tour in some foreign cities. We all loved performing, but this tour was pure hell for us…especially AJ. Howie, Kevin, Brian and I had a long talk with management, explaining that AJ had lost someone very dear to him recently, and that it would be a while before he was himself…if ever. They sent out a press release, and Thank God we have the best fans in the world, because they were totally cool with it. They kept sending him cards and gifts and flowers, and finally he put out his own press release, asking that all gifts and stuff be sent to AIDS units at hospitals, and that any money you wanted to spend, please spend it in donations to AIDS charities. He started out his charitable work with Save the Music, but soon he became an unofficial spokesman for the fight against AIDS. Teenagers and pre-teenagers are very easily convinced, and once they knew that AJ McLean was against AIDS…hell…they went all out to support whatever he wanted. I know she’s smiling about that one.

The funeral was small…just the group of us, Leighanne, Kristin, Felicia, and the very few friends that had actually stayed in touch with her once she got sick. She was then cremated, and we went out on my boat to scatter the ashes on the water she loved to look at. AJ bought a tiny hinged box shaped like a shell, and he kept a small amount of her ashes in it. That shell went with him EVERYWHERE, and once when we were in the Midwest he refused to leave a hotel until he found it (it was wrapped up in one of his socks). In any other circumstance, the hysteria of AJ would have been funny.

Physically, Aje got even thinner. Emotionally…no one could get to him. He was snippy when he was in a good mood, evil when he was in a bad mood, and unfortunately he was in a rotten mood 90% of the time. We all stayed away from him, but we didn’t like it. We knew he drank in his room every night when we were on tour, but, as Howie said, at least he was in his room and not out getting into trouble. Howie suffered just as much, but he was lucky to have Felicia. They married a month after the funeral in a very tiny ceremony, and it was all AJ could do to stand up as best man. By Thanksgiving, Felicia was already five months pregnant, and I knew she and Howie were glad beyond words. “Life goes on regardless,” she said, and I can only agree.

We were on a flight back to the States when I finally said something about an idea I had been playing with for a while. Howie was dozing against the window. Kevin and Brian were jotting down song ideas. AJ was staring into space, playing with the cross around his neck, zipping it one way down the chain, then back up. Zip…zip…zip…zip…

“Hey…Aje,” I said softly, moving to sit next to him. He looked at me over his ever-present sunglasses, his dark eyes tired.

“Yeah?”

Everyone froze. I had pretty much stayed out of AJ’s way the last few months, acting like I had around Kevin when I was twelve. “I…uh…I was surfing the net last night…”

AJ actually smiled. “Were you looking at those porno sites again, Junior? I mean, really…you’re twenty-one now…you can get your own nookie.”

I smiled back. “I know…not porno sites this time. I…uh…well…”

“For God’s sake, Nick, spit it out!” Kevin said, exasperated. I looked over at he and Brian, who were eagerly watching the exchange.

“I was playing around and I found this site about the AIDS quilt and…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” AJ immediately shut down.

“You HAVE to,” I snapped, and he looked surprised. “We all lost someone, for fuck’s sake. Howie lost his all-time best friend, and he’s at least TRYING to deal with it. Just shut up and listen for once, okay?”

AJ slowly removed his sunglasses, his eyes cloudy and unreadable. “I’m listening.”

“Anyway, they have this AIDS quilt. I’m sure you’ve heard of it…anyway, the first of December is World AIDS Day…and though I know we couldn’t have anything ready for it THIS year…I thought we could start that day…make the piece…send it in…” I stammered into silence. “I found all the information out…what size it has to be…what material it can be, all that. It has to be three feet by six…that’s big enough for ALL of us to put something on it…or you could just do your own.” I looked at my feet, sure that he thought I was an idiot. “I mean, regardless, I’m gonna do it. I can find some material, put some of my poems on it…and I have some pictures I can make into iron-ons…”

“You gonna sew it?” AJ demanded, and I looked up.

“Well…I was gonna work on it…they can hem it for you but I thought I could find someone…”

“My mom can do it,” AJ said, staring out the window. “She could finish it for us…” he said slowly. “And I think your poems would be great, Nick.” His dark eyes turned on me, full of tears. “Your poems, and a drawing or two…I don’t want it fancy. We could each write something on it…and now that I think of it, when I was going through her stuff, I found some boxes of fabric she had used in some of her window designs. I bet there’s something in there that could work.”

“Nick, this sounds like an awesome idea,” Brian said finally. Howie’s eyes fluttered open.

“What idea?”

“Nick found info about the AIDS Quilt, and we’re gonna make a panel,” AJ said softly. Howie’s eyes grew, then he smiled.

“Damn awesome idea, Nicky,” Howie said softly. There was a pause, then Howie fell back to sleep, Brian and Kevin continued to argue over lyrics, and AJ looked at me.

“It hurts,” he whispered. “I loved her so fucking much. And until the day I die, I’ll know this was my fault.”

“YOUR fault?” I was confused. There was silence once more, and Howie’s eyes opened again. He looked at AJ sympathetically.

“She got it…from my friend…I introduced her at Howie’s party…and he gave it to her.” AJ’s cheeks were wet with tears.

“She never ever blamed you, Aje,” Howie said softly. “She knew it had nothing to do with you.”

“You knew about this?” AJ asked.

“Yeah. I knew for about three months before she died. She was so upset that you felt so guilty. And she was right, not your fault…” Howie smiled at AJ sadly. “She loved you, AJ. She could never blame you.”

“Well, maybe one day I’ll stop blaming me,” AJ said with a sigh, hurriedly wiping away his tears. He looked back at me. “Maybe this can help,” he whispered, and I just nodded. I reached over and squeezed his knee, then went back to my seat. I knew he needed time alone.

AJ told me once that watching us cry for her was the hardest thing she had to go through. She knew that our love for her kept us around, and it was her love for us that attempted to push us away. As we suffered over the quilt block for the next two months, I knew she was up there somewhere laughing her ASS off. We argued, fought, AJ even went after Howie with a pair of scissors. But in the end it was the perfect way to say goodbye. He said that she felt goodbyes were the hardest thing, but I think this goodbye was the perfect way to make her smile.

THE END

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