- A.J. McLean, Rolling Stone, December 14, 2000
The heat was unbearable even for someone who had been raised as a Floridian for 14 years of his life. Nick couldn't imagine spending 30 days in this climate much less living here permanently.
He had lied to Howie about returning to Tampa. Instead, he had called airline only minutes before to change his ticket and was rerouted to this place. The American Southwest looked like he remembered from their brief tour stops in Phoenix and Albuquerque with a little bit of his childhood imagination muddled with the memories. He almost expected Wile E. Coyote to drop off one of the cliffs in yet another lame attempt to capture Roadrunner for his dinner.
Nick checked into the hotel to wash up and relax for a few minutes. He still had an hour's drive before his final destination.
As Nick pulled his rental car into a parking space and turned off the engine, the doubts he had been fighting during the trip nearly forced him to give up on his crusade. He kept thinking he would have been better off not coming and because no one knew he was there, he could just go to Tampa like originally planned.
But something inside him wouldn't permit him to run. He had done enough of that already.
Inhaling deeply, Nick left the air-conditioned confines of his car and stepped into the Arizona air feeling as though he had walked into an oven because of the dry heat. The compound was just ahead. He figured that the large Spanish deco building in front of him was the main office and climbed the three steps to the front door.
Entering through the glass door, Nick wandered up to the counter. “May I help you?” asked the raven-haired woman at the reception desk. He had expected a white uniform or at least hospital scrubs, but she wore a white tank blouse and blue jeans.
“Um, yeah. My name is, uh, Nick C-carter. I'm here to see a friend of mine.”
“Friend's name?”
“A.J. McLean.”
The receptionist typed quickly on the keyboard then stared intently at the computer screen. “I'm sorry, sir. There is no one here by that name.”
Shit, did I come to the wrong place? “Um, can you check under Alex McLean please?”
Again, she consulted her computer database. “No, I'm sorry.”
He saw the business cards displayed on the counter and knew that he was at the right place. Hanging his head dejectedly, he pushed away from the counter. “Yeah, thanks.” He wasn't certain what to do with himself now. Maybe A.J. had signed in under a pseudonym, but he wasn't about to call the other guys to get it. Not after he walked out the meeting like that.
There was one other person that would know – Denise. He would call her tonight when he returned to his hotel room.
Nick was anxious to talk to Denise and he wasn't sure why. He could only guess that he needed further assurance that Alex was okay, that the extra two weeks added to his treatment were only a precaution. A.J. had to be okay.
He dialed her cellphone number figuring she would be easier to reach that way. “Hello?”
Nick cleared his throat gently. “Denise, this is Nick. Nick Carter,” he tried to sound as casual as possible.
“Nick? How are you sweetheart?”
“Um, pretty good. How are you?”
“Good. A little tired though. I've been racking up those frequent flier miles flying back and forth to see Alex.”
“Guess you aren't used to the old tour schedule, are you?”
“No, I guess not – even after traveling with you and Alex this summer.”
“Um, actually, speaking of A.J. I'm in Arizona now. I wanted to see him before I went home, but I didn't know whether or not he was signed in under his own name or what, ya know?”
“Oh, it's a good thing you called then. I wonder if you're on the list.”
“The list?”
“Yeah, the doctors have to okay everyone that phones, sends letters and visits. I was sure all of you boys were on the list. I'll call to have Alex put you on.”
“Could you not tell him I'm in town? I'd like it to be a surprise.” Just in case I whimp out.
“Sure, I'll just tell him that you tried to call or something.” She paused for a moment and Nick knew what question was coming. “Are you sure you're okay, Nick?”
“For now.”
Nick called first before driving back out to the rehab facility the next morning to make certain that A.J. had left his name.
“He's in group at the moment,” said the woman from the day before once he arrived. “You don't mind waiting?”
“No. Thank you.” Nick smiled at her then took a seat in the lounge. He picked up a copy of Sports Illustrated content to read about predictions for the new National Football League season to pass the time.
He was skimming through the report cards for the American Conference when he heard a familiar voice. “Nick.” Blue eyes met brown briefly before Nick was drawn into a hug. “Damn, it's good to see you. What are you doin' here? No, don't answer that yet.” A.J. grabbed Nick's wrist. “Come on. We'll talk.”
The courtyard was mirage of sorts – a strange contrast to the desert that surrounded the facility. Lush green plants stood out against the dirt brown and brick red of the buildings' adobe style walls. A small Spanish-style fountain was the centerpiece with all four narrow, cobblestone paths leading to it. This place wasn't exactly what Nick envisioned when he thought about a rehab facility. He expected a hospital, something so starkly white and bland rather than this colorful of desert paradise.
A.J. motioned for Nick to take the seat across from him at one of the tables, but the two men sat in silence – neither knowing how to say what he needed to say.
“It's nice, huh?” the darker man finally said. “Not really what I expected either and I saw the brochure.”
Nick looked at his friend and blinked. As much as he was surprised by the rehab center, the truth was he hadn't known quite what to expect from A.J. McLean either. Here he was over two weeks sober and not really changed - at least on the outside. There were probably more subtle differences certainly, but there was one thing that Nick couldn't miss.
The old sparkle was back in those brown eyes. The essence that was Alex McLean had returned. It was something that only a few weeks ago, Nick thought he would never see again.
“You know, this place is just what I needed. God, I was here for like 48 hours and felt better than I had in months even with the withdrawal from the alcohol – that was a bitch. But, the staff has just been incredible helping me try to figure out my demons. They've even started to work on what to do after I get out of here.
“I've found myself again, Nick. And it's such an incredibly liberating feeling.”
Hearing Alex talk about how much his life had changed for the better, Nick wished for that. He didn't harbor any ill will but envied A.J. greatly. He should have known that he wouldn't be able to control his emotions but wasn't prepared for the tear that escaped. “Hey, what's that?” A.J. asked. The blonde didn't reply. “Hey, really it's okay.” Nick sniffled and shook his head.
“I-I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry, J.” He stood to leave, but Alex stopped him.
“No, Kaos, you're here. I want you here. Please, please stay.” Nick took a seat beside his friend this time. “You know, Howie called before you came. He's worried about you. We all are. I'm not going anywhere. You've got a captive audience here.”
“You have enough to deal with,” Nick was adamant about keeping his hell to himself. No need to share the misery. “You don't need my shit, too.”
“I used to think that, you know.” A.J. nervously rubbed his right thumb over his left. “I don't know, but my counselors here have been telling me that is one of the reasons I am here. I just wasn't willing to share with you guys all the shit I was going through.
“It ain't healthy, Nicky, bottling up emotions like that. You been through a lot of crap in your life, I know you have. It hasn't been easy for either of us, has it? So many things in our lives gone wrong. My dad, your parents.” He smiled briefly. “We've both had our share in dealing with girls named Amanda. All the shit that goes on while we're touring. People pulling in every direction. Feeling lonely even in a damn crowd of fans.” A.J. looked away ashamed and Nick could barely hear the whisper, “The alcohol and drugs.
“As much as we've both had to deal with, it is a wonder we aren't more screwed up. We're strong and we can get through anything. You know why - because we have each other. That was why I called you a couple of weeks ago.
“I'm afraid, Nick. As much as it scared the hell out of me to come here and have to deal with all my demons, I did it. And you know, looking back on my life made me realize that we are very similar. That scared me more than anything.” When A.J. eyes met Nick's, they were bright orbs of liquid chocolate. “I don't want to ever see you here. Your life is worth more than that.” Then a little angrier, but with so much love. “YOU are worth more than that.”
