And then there were days when Nick Carter felt like nothing could help him. That the constant reminders of being tied down by bottles of medication told him things had changed. His entire life would be depended on medications that would ensure the longevity of his lifeline. He had to limit himself in whatever he did and watched what he ate. He couldn’t overwork himself or go out when the sun was blaring too hot. This automatically meant that he couldn’t go to the beach in the Summer where he rightfully belonged. Not that he abided strictly by the rules though. More than often, he had made it a point to be there when his racing team took to the waters.
A slight fever now meant more than just a twenty-four hour bug. The risk of skipping a medication due from tight schedules was always there and when it did happen, the cost was a pricey one to pay. Lonely days in his hotel room where he wished his brothers were there with him were filled with longing thoughts of regrets and despair.
That day was such a day for Nick Carter.
Misunderstandings, overbooked schedules and poor weather meant that he had to postpone some of his shows and make them up at a later date. When Jim had came to him with their re-scheduled list, all he could was agree to it, because Nick Carter owed his success to his fans and there was no way he would cancel his shows and disappoint them.
It was touted as the coldest week in February and he was in Canada, on his eighth straight show in a row. There were no breaks in between no hotel rooms to sleep in but the restricted space of the bunks at the back of the tour bus. The cold brought along with it a three day old flu that refused to go away and a stubborn fever that got him running hot and cold at the same time. Thankfully, the headache he had been suffering from had, for the moment, dropped to a soft throbbing at the back of his head.
The bus had stopped for the next destination and everyone had left to get started on sound check. For Nick however, he had two hours to be by himself, which meant staying in the bus since fans were everywhere out there. At the state he was in, being social with fans was out of the question.
He stared at the cell phone in his hand and without any second thoughts; speed dialled the stored number and waited for it to be answered.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Leigh?"
A long pause.
"Nick?" pause. "That you?"
"Yeah, is this a good time to call?"
"Of course, it’s only ten in the morning here. Where are you calling from?"
"Toronto."
"Canada? Wow."
"Yeah, gotta show here."
"I see…oh, I’ll get Brian, I’m sure you called to talk to him."
"Hey Leigh,"
"Yeah?"
"How are you?" Nick closed his eyes as a sudden spasm of throbbing pain hit his head. "I mean…how are you and the baby?"
"We’re good and oh, since you called that means you’re the first Backstreet uncle to know this," Leighanne exclaimed excitedly. "It’s a boy!"
For a moment, the tortures of fever and headache and everything that came along with it disappeared; immediately replaced by a fuzzy picture of a toddler with curly sandy beached blonde hair and blue, inquisitive eyes, with square jaw line and the most angelic smile ever. He smiled, his heart soared and the light tears in his eyes made him wish he was in Atlanta instead, hugging and congratulating his best friend and his wife. Brian definitely has found his calling.
"We’re going to have a Backstreet boy?" Nick cried.
Leighanne’s chuckles invaded his ears. "Looks like it."
"It’s nice to hear from you again Nick…they were showing a clip of your show in Japan just the other night and you didn’t look that well, is everything okay with you?"
"That’s a few months back, I’m okay now."
"Okay, nice to know that. I’ll call Brian now."
"Thanks."
The wait was excruciating. He laid in bed with his eyes closed, hand firmly putting the cell phone pressed to his ear. Absolute silence in the bus and nothing was heard on the other line. It wasn’t the first time that he had called Brian now. In fact, this would be his third call. He had made a pact with AJ that he would call Brian and he did.
That seemed so long ago.
It had been awkward at first, but AJ was correct, they were Frick and Frack no matter what. Only time would eventually melt those icy walls away between them. There were things that needed to be settled and so far, they had never talked about it, perhaps both were pushing it back. He knew that one day, all those piled up emotions would spring out on them and make everything ugly again, but for now, Nick was content with just talking with his best friend, like in the old days.
"Yellow!"
Nick smirked.
"Grow up Brian."
"Nice to hear from you too buddy!"
Chuckles. "Hi."
"Hey."
"Better?"
"Yes, thank you very much." Giggles. "How are you bud?"
"Cold."
"Ah…Leigh said you’re in Toronto, it’s snowing."
"And Nick loves snow, that’s why he resigns in Florida."
Hearty laugh. "Oh boy, you’re resorting to making fun of yourself, you must be peachy."
"I am…but I just found out from a very reliable source that we’re having a Backstreet Boy."
"Eh? Since when are we getting a new member?"
"Rok, you’re getting slow, I think it’s just a side effect of being a grown up."
"Um, I haven’t really woken up…I’m getting pampered with waking up late these days."
"Well, you need it I guess," Nick said. "When that boy is born, you’re gonna have to wake up every five minutes at night."
"Oh! You’re talking about Baylee!"
"Baylee?" Nick asked and then gasped. "You named him already!"
"Yup! You like?"
"You can call him AJ and I’ll still love the kid."
"Bone wouldn’t like it if he heard that."
"And we’re not telling, ya copy that bro?"
"Roger!"
Nausea caught him off guard and the next word to escape his mouth was choked back. He clamped his mouth with his free hand and made a sprint to the small cubicle up front, receiving objections from his headache, pounding even harder as it showed its defiance.
Fortunately, he made it in time and by seconds, the sink was redecorated with the contents of his stomach - which was nothing that colourful. Yellow tinted liquid and a bitter after taste, evidence that he had threw up the very medication that would keep him alive. Damn liver!
He rinsed his mouth and wiped away the tears that had streamed its way down his old cheeks. The grip of his cell phone on his left hand reminded him of what he was doing before the nausea kicked in.
Brian.
"B, you still there?"
"Did I just witness an earful of you puking bro?"
"Sorry about that man."
"Are you sick Nick?"
"A little."
"Then why the hell are you talking to me? Get your rest bro."
"Bored."
"Okay, fair enough," Brian sighed. "take your meds? Antibiotics?"
"Yup, it came out."
"How are you gonna perform today bro? Can’t you reschedule or something?"
"Already did. I’m on a ten straight show marathon, living in a bus, just like the old times."
"And you were constantly living in the cubicle in the bus back then while the rest of us had bunks too." Sigh. "I know how bad it could get with you Frack, you gotta take care of yourself. Don’t you have a Kevin clone with you?"
Chuckles. "Nope."
"That’s the problem right there!" Brian claimed.
"I’m good Rok, I can take care of myself."
"I know you can buddy…I’m just worried…"
"I know you are, but I got it under-"
"Nick?"
Nick turned and found Jim standing at the steps of the bus. "They need you in sound check and there’s a lil interview with Much Music."
Nick nodded. "Give me a sec?"
"Tony’s waiting outside, not too long or he’ll freeze."
Nick smiled and waved his hand to show that he understood. Jim disappeared but the door was left open, sending cold winter chills into the bus and right at him. He shivered involuntarily and made a mental note to take his jacket along.
"Hey Rok, I gotta run, they need me in sound check."
"Okay then, take care buddy, I mean it."
"I will. And Rok, the next time I call, I don’t wanna hear you bought the entire Toys R Us, understood?"
Laugh. "I’ll try."
"Bye Frick."
"Bye."
He grabbed the jacket and put it on his way out of the bus. As expected, Tony was waiting for him, busy keeping fans in order. The screams shot right through his eardrums, sending pulses of throbbing pain in his head again. He sniffed, making a mental note that he needed to blow his nose once he got the privacy he needed. It was work all over again, nothing that he hadn’t gone through before. And what made it bearable was that, this was his life, this is him.
