Howie Dorough stepped up to his position by the curtain and waited. It wasn’t that he was afraid that he would miss his cue, it was that he would miss being on tour. This was their last show for a few months and it made him wonder what he would do in his down time. Maybe he would take up gardening…nah that was a hobby for older people. Besides, he killed more plants than he grew. He hated sports and wished that dancing would be considered one. It was a good cardiovascular exercise after all.
They had celebrated the end of the tour the day before because no one would have time to party while they were packing for home. Howie had a lot of fun, but he crashed a bumper car in process. Maybe that wasn’t the sport for him either.
Despite the ever-growing grudge he had for sports, he always got the exercise that he needed. He believed whole-heartedly in working out and often practiced dancing so that he wouldn’t lose his touch. Now that he was off for a while, he decided beforehand that he would help his sister Polly Anna with her foreign language CD. Needless to say, he was obsessed with the music industry and was determined to make her a star. He knew that everyone would fall in love with her voice and she had wanted this much more than he had from the very start.
Pyro cued the pyrotechnics and Howie knew that it was time to hit the stage. He sang in a trance, shouting miscellaneous phrases into the audience here and there and at the same time, trying to retain his balance. The night before he had slipped on a large puddle of water that Nick had purposely placed at his feet with a water gun. Howie fell for the prankster’s joke, butt first in fact. In a way it wasn’t really Nick’s fault that Howie had to stay up there for the performance with a wet ass. He should’ve known better by then, but he swore to get back at him anyhow. Now it was the end of the tour and Howie had to think of something quickly. Perhaps something symbolic, or maybe something tremendously humiliating. That would be perfect.
The song was “It’s Gotta Be You” and Howie knew that Nick would be looking for an encore. There was no way that he was going to go through that again, he promised himself. Nick would have to look for a different victim because Howie Dorough was not going to be pushed around.
As he sang, he urged the Backstreet Band to keep quiet by placing a finger to his lips. From his position behind the drums, Howie watched Nick wander around aimlessly, looking for him. Howie stifled his laughter and kept on singing. Nick was growing frustrated, he could tell, because he could hear Howie’s voice, but he couldn’t see him.
Howie waited for Nick to step in the right direction, and then he could put his plan into motion. Finally Nick ambled over to the other side of the stage where the drum set was positioned, spraying Brian and Kevin in the back of their heads. Howie had to admit that he was getting to be a good aim. That could become a problem, especially after Howie initiated his plan. Nick would most likely find comfort in revenge.
He counted Nick’s steps one with the right, two with the left, three with the right…timing was crucial in this plan. Slowly and carefully he crept from behind the drum set and began to tip toe after Nick, praying that he wouldn’t turn around. If he did, then Howie’s ass wouldn’t be the only thing that would be wet. Nick would take no mercy upon him. The only thing that gave Howie away were the audience’s loud cheers when Howie returned on the stage. But Nick paid them no mind because they got louder periodically and he didn’t think that they would be any cause for alarm.
Just a few more steps now and Nick would be on center stage. One, two three…now! As agile as a cat after its prey, Howie leapt forward and reached out his arms. When he felt their grip on Nick’s pants, he pulled downward purposely and the pants followed obediently.
Wasting no time between Nick’s shock, he snatched the water gun out of Nick’s clutches and sprayed him from head to toe. Nick just stood there, his mouth gaping open, pants at his ankles and water dripping from every part of his body.
The audience was in a frenzy. Not only was their beloved Nick standing in only in his knickers, but also he was wearing briefs! They all had thought he had gotten over that little tick, but apparently not. There he was in broad daylight and living proof of the legend.
Howie meanwhile could not control his laughter. Neither could the rest of the guys in fact. Poor Kevin was laughing so hard that he had to hold on to a nearby Backstreet Boy, Brian, for support. Brian wasn’t helping very much in that department, and sooner or later, they both fell to the floor in a giggling frenzy.
AJ, on the other hand, was not quite done. He took his water gun and walked up to Nick. Without looking at AJ, Nick took the offering of the water gun and wrenched it from AJ’s hands. Howie, who was overcome with laughter, didn’t see the spray fly towards him in the last minute.
Nick got over his shock and darted off the stage to get some pants. He returned holding two water guns and was spraying them madly. Although Howie was his primary target, he ended up getting everyone and everything wet in the process. The music for “It’s Gotta Be You” stopped a while before, but everyone was having too much fun watching Howie and Nick battle.
Howie’s water gun ran out of ammo and he was reduced to fleeing in terror. Nick ran after him cackling madly and nearly tripping over the water that came out of his own gun. Once Howie was trapped in a corner, Nick leveled the gun to Howie’s appendix and fired.
Howie grasped madly at his appendix. But for once this was not an act. A searing pain rode up and down his leg nearly forcing him to his knees. He pushed past Nick, who was still snickering at the sheer thought that he was winning. As the pain grew, Howie was finally forced down to his knees, and all the while his friends are thinking that he’s playing off death. But this is so real.
Brian stops laughing for a moment and sees by Howie’s eyes that his friend is not joking. He appears to be rushing over to his side in slow motion, but Howie can’t see him anymore. The pain is becoming more and more intense and it feels like his insides are being turned out. He rocks back and forth on his knees, holding his side and hoping to subdue his pain. Then finally his eyelids cave and in an uncontrollable gesture, Sweet D. falls unconscious in front of a sea of 46,000 people.
Part 2
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