Despite Brian’s protests and his own better judgment, Nick honored his prior commitment to Aaron by flying out to Los Angeles for the Teen Choice Awards. The two brothers had recorded two songs for the younger Carter’s new album – a reggae-inspired “Oh Aaron” and the number they would be performing at the show, “Not Too Young, Not Too Old”. Neither were songs he could honestly be proud of musically but Aaron was family. It didn’t matter how he felt about his parents, he would always love and support his siblings. They didn’t deserve to fall victim to the same life he had.
Brian still wasn’t certain about the stability of Nick’s psyche, making the younger man promise to call whenever he needed, no matter the time of day or night. For further reassurance, Brian called his older cousin Kevin in Los Angeles and brought him up-to-date on the situation as a warning. The other band members had strung together a calling circle to keep one another informed of the A.J. situation and discovered that it applied to the Nick situation as well. In short, Kevin had been expecting Brian’s call.
“So, generally speaking,” the elder cousin surmised, “the whole thing has gone from bad…”
“…to worse. I had no idea that his life was such a mess.”
“Guess we should have expected it,” he replied before adding an afterthought. “You would think that there would be an end to the Backstreet soap opera somewhere.”
“We haven’t had an easy time, I know. I’d say we were stronger for it, but sometimes it seems things are crumbling around us. This is just one more thing.” He sighed. “Jane has never been this bad, Kev. You should have seen how distraught he was. I have never seen him cry that hard, not when he was homesick at 12, not during the whole A.J. ordeal. Never.”
A deep sigh answered him. “I’ll make sure to prepare the guest room. Better to be safe.”
“I know you two have had your differences before, Kevin. Please try to be understanding in this.”
“We’ve gotten past that by now, you know that. I’ll do whatever needs to be done to make sure he’s okay. It sounds damn cheesy but he is my little brother and I’ll be damned to hell if he gets hurts.”
With marked distain, Nick stared at his reflection. It must have been his mother’s idea of punishment. He could only imagine the critics and fans laughter when he and Aaron showed up to the Teen Choice Awards dressed in identical buckskin outfits. Dammit, he wasn’t 12, but then again he might as well have been if he was singing bubble gum pop like “Not Too Young, Not Too Old”. And this particular outfit he would be wearing on the red carpet wasn’t as bad as the gaudy 70’s-inspired costume he was wearing for the performance of that very song during the ceremony.
Upon his arrival in Los Angeles, Nick had phoned both Kevin and A.J. to let them know he was in the area. He hoped he would be able to deal with his family without incident, but still wanted to be certain his friends were aware of his whereabouts – just in case.
Nick hated that he had become so dependent. He had been younger than Aaron when he joined Backstreet and the lifestyle had forced him to become independent as a necessity. It was almost immediate – like he stepped off the plane in Europe that first time and was suddenly alone.
Alone…
Even among his peers and friends at this award ceremony, he could feel that darkness begin its descent over his psyche. He willed himself not to fall prey to it – not this time. He was with his brother. His mother and father were nearby. He glanced around him to assure him of the fact. Yes, they were there. The knowledge wasn’t as comforting as it should have been.
“Excuse me,” Nick said as he accidentally bumped into the person in front of him. Stupid, watch where you are going. “I’m sorry.”
The face that met his made him groan inwardly. Blue eyes. Shaved head. “Hey, Nick.”
“Hi, Justin.” Nick nodded over to the woman on his rival’s arm. “Britney.”
The vulture-like paparazzi saw the opportunity develop and clamored over one another trying to find the perfect angle. “Justin.” “Nick.” “Could we get the two of you together?” “Get Aaron in there, too.” Nick could already see the caption – The Kings of Pop and the Heir Apparent.
Or maybe more appropriate was The Superstar, the Rising Star and the Has-Been.
The thought made Nick struggle to keep the smile – as fake as it was – on his face.
After all the flashes stopped and the photographers had moved on, Nick watched as Justin and Britney rejoined the rest of *NSYNC and their entourage. He had to wonder what their lives were like beyond the facade.
The *NSYNC members seemed so tight in their rise to fame and now that they were on the crest of it and dealing with the public relationship between Britney and Justin. As much as Kevin maybe didn’t want to admit, there were a lot of similarities between Backstreet and *NSYNC. But Backstreet stumbled when the group hit the pinnacle of their popularity while their rivals had flourished and were still riding the crest of that wave.
Aaron tugged on Nick’s hand shaking him from his thoughts and pulling him into the crowd that was quickly pouring into the building.
Later that night, Nick could feel the cameras on him once again as Justin sauntered onstage to claim his award as “Choice Male Hottie”. He clapped politely. He knew Justin – as “The Superstar” – deserved all of the adulation he received. But somewhere inside he wondered why he wasn’t at least nominated in the category.
Seeking solace, Nick glanced down the row only to see his mother’s plastic smile as she applauded. Jane turned toward Aaron and spoke into his ear. The young man listened intently before nodding his head and sharing a laugh with her.
The performance went as expected. Nick tried to play up to Aaron’s goofiness as much as possible but when he glanced into the audience his eyes found his mother. Her bright gaze turned stormy as it traveled from her youngest son to her eldest causing Nick to lose his concentration and nearly trip over his bellbottoms. The disgust on Jane’s face was impossible to mask.
And, as the two siblings took their obligatory bows at the end of the song, Nick scanned the audience and his injured self-esteem misread the applause. They’re only being polite. It’s pity. They only feel pity for me.
Once offstage, he tore off the blonde afro wig and just stared at it. His mind was drowning in questions.
Is this what my life is now? What have I become? How the hell did I get here? How did I fall so far?
Where the hell do I go from here?
Nick didn’t bother to remove the stage costume and ignoring Aaron’s protests, grabbed his wallet and walked out into the overcast evening alone. He strolled down the streets of Los Angeles unguarded but almost unrecognizable. The sky grew darker with the impending storm until, without more warning than a single sonic boom of thunder, the clouds wept crocodile tears. The rain sent the people on the streets scurrying for shelter – with the exception of two, Nick and a lone young man playing the guitar.
Drawn in by his own fascination with the performer, Nick crossed the street. The man, who looked to be around Nick’s age, had probably seen better times. The trials and tribulations of a nomadic life showed on his face and in his clothes. In his own head, Nick heard a voice that sounded remarkably like his mother’s taunt him with the realization that this man could be him.
As he battled with those disheartening thoughts, Nick continued to watch the performer. It was then that he noticed the smile that the man wore. Undaunted by the change in the weather and the loss of his audience, he continued to play with a passion. For this man, the music was all that mattered. He wasn’t playing for the occasional dollar dropped into guitar case. He was playing for the right to be heard and opened up his heart and soul to whoever might listen.
Finishing his last song, the man raised his head when he heard a slight applause and acknowledged Nick with a nod.
“I take requests.” Nick reached into his pocket for his wallet. “No, I don’t take money. I take requests.”
“Just keep playing.”
The man contemplated the frustration and sadness in Nick’s face before he nodded and began to play.
Everything breathes
And I know each breath
It's more than enough for this man
Nick had nearly forgotten the little-known Steve Perry song but somehow this stranger knew the appropriateness of the lyrics in the moment. Without another thought, Nick picked up the second verse.
Like every tree stands on its own
Oh reaching for the sky I stand alone
I share my world with no one else
All by myself...
Nick succumbed to the emotions and had to allow the man to finish. Tears mixed with the rain as he reached into his pocket, withdrew a twenty dollar bill and placed it in the performer’s hand.
“Thank you.”
