Nick
It felt good to have the whole group together again, even if it was only for one night. As the five of us posed for pictures together outside the restaurant where our fifteenth anniversary party was taking place, it felt like old times again. For a moment, I almost forgot that Kevin wasn’t in the group anymore. Then I glanced down at him in his wheelchair and remembered nothing would ever be the same as before, no matter how hard we tried to pretend.
But that night, nostalgia reigned. Framed photos of us sat on every table. We had fun laughing at the ridiculous outfits we’d worn for our cheesy photoshoots as we moved around the restaurant, mingling with the other guests. The DJ played mostly nineties music, interspersing the occasional BSB hit between the old-school hip-hop and R&B songs. People who had helped us along the way – record execs, radio DJs, entertainment reporters, lawyers, publicists, managers, bodyguards, and family members – ate, drank, and danced together. It felt kind of like a class reunion – or what I imagined a class reunion would be like, anyway.
“Not bad for planning a party in a week,” I told Jenn, snagging a spicy tuna roll off a plate of appetizers a waiter was carrying around. “Looks like everyone’s having a great time.” My eyes lingered on Kevin, who was laughing with Brian and Leighanne, a drink clutched in his hands.
“Good!” Jenn heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief, wiping the back of her hand across her brow. “Because I’m exhausted.”
I chuckled as I put my arm around her and pulled her in for a hug. “I bet. You’re the best, though! Thanks for throwing this thing together for us.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied, patting me on the back. “Always happy to help.” As she pulled away, she added, “You’re still planning to perform a song at some point, right? And say a few words in front of all your guests?”
I nodded. “Yeah… I guess we better do that before I have any more to drink, huh?” I glanced down at the drink in my hand. I already had a pleasant buzz going and fully planned on getting shitfaced that night. I deserved to blow off a little steam after all the shit I’d had to deal with lately – both figuratively and literally. “Lemme see if the guys are ready.”
“Okay. I’ll go give the DJ a heads up.”
We walked off in different directions, Jenn heading toward the DJ booth while I went around wrangling the four other guys. I grabbed Howie and AJ before making my way over to Brian and Kevin. “Hey, Jenn’s gonna have the DJ hand over the mic to us in a few minutes. You good with that?”
As I caught Kevin’s eye, I could see the anxiety in his expression. But underneath that was the steely determination I had come to expect from our fearless leader. He gave a single nod, then downed the rest of his drink in one long gulp. “Let’s do this.”
Howie laughed. “You heard the man.”
Brian looked both surprised and delighted. “Yeah, Kev!” He clapped his cousin on the shoulder, his blue eyes shining. “You got this!”
“You’re gonna be great, Kevy Kev,” added AJ with a grin.
“Just like old times.” Smiling at the four of them, I stuck my hand out in front of me, palm down. “Backstreet on three?”
AJ caught on first and put his own hand on top of mine. Howie followed suit, sandwiching AJ’s hand between his and mine. Brian laid his hand over Howie’s. Then we all looked at Kevin. He hesitated only a moment before placing his hand on top of the pile. A lump rose in my throat as I looked down at his limp fingers, loosely curled. They reminded me of how much courage it must have taken Kevin to come this far.
I cleared my throat and counted, “One, two, three…”
“BACKSTREET!” all five of us chanted together for the first time in more than two years as we threw our hands in the air. When I glanced back at Kevin’s face, his eyes were bright with tears.
By the time we got to the DJ booth, Kevin had regained his composure. The DJ handed out microphones as we gathered in front of his setup in a corner of the dining room. Just like at Jenn’s birthday party, there was no stage, but that didn’t matter. Kevin couldn’t have climbed up onto a stage anyway.
“You got this, bro,” I murmured as I placed a microphone in his hands, making sure he had a good grip on it before I let go. I felt a rush of deja vu as I remembered him offering me the same kind of encouragement before one of our first big performances together, when I was around fourteen and self-conscious about my pubescent voice cracking. Now our roles were reversed, and I was the one reassuring him.
Kevin nodded, flashing me a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks, Nick.”
Howie and I stood on one side of him, Brian and AJ on the other. Kevin sat in the middle, clutching his microphone with both hands. With his head slightly bowed, he looked like he was praying. Maybe he was.
The DJ waited for the song he was playing to finish before he got on the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, how would you like to hear some live music? In honor of their fifteenth anniversary, all five Backstreet Boys are here to perform together for the first time in almost two years. Give it up for Nick, Brian, AJ, Howie, and Kevin!”
The crowd consisting of our friends, family, and colleagues clapped and cheered. Behind us, the backing track for “I Want It That Way” blared out of the speakers.
Brian took a step forward. “You are… my fire. The one… desire. Believe… when I say. I want it that way.”
I took a deep breath. “But we… are two worlds apart. Can’t reach to your heart… when you say… that I want it that way. Tell me why…”
“Ain’t nothin’ but a heartache,” the others came in on the chorus.
“Tell me why…”
“Ain’t nothin’ but a mistake. Tell me why…”
“I never wanna hear you say…”
“I want it that way,” we sang together. The five-part harmony on the last two words raised goosebumps on my arms. I hadn’t realized how much I missed hearing Kevin’s voice until I remembered how much richer it made our sound. It just wasn’t the same without him.
When it came time for his solo after the second chorus, I couldn’t help but hold my breath and hope for the best. All eyes in the building turned to Kevin as he brought his microphone back up to his mouth.
“Now I can see that we’ve fallen apart,” he began. His voice was soft and a little shaky at first, but as he went on, it got louder and stronger. “From the way that it used to be, yea-ah.”
AJ joined him in harmony, their voices blending seamlessly. “No matter the distance, I want you to know… that deep down inside of me…”
“You are… my fire,” sang Howie as the music softened. “The one… desire. You are…”
“You are…” I added.
“You are…” AJ and Kevin came in.
“You a-are…” Brian’s voice rang out over ours.
“One… two… you sing!” I shouted, holding out my mic.
To my relief, our guests responded by singing, “Don’t wanna hear you!” As my voice had matured, it had gotten harder and harder for me to hit those high notes. During the Never Gone tour, Kevin had blamed it on my smoking habit and urged me to quit before I destroyed my voice, but I didn’t think it had anything to do with cigarettes. My adult voice was just deeper than the teenage version on the album.
“Ain’t nothin’ but a heartache… ain’t nothin’ but a mistake…” The whole room sang along with us as we launched into the last chorus. “I never wanna hear you say… I want it that way.”
When we finished, the five of us took a bow while our guests clapped and cheered. “Thank you,” AJ said into his mic as the applause died down. “Thank you all for being here tonight to celebrate with us. Fifteen years, fellas… Can you believe it?” He slung his arm around Brian’s shoulders and looked down the line at the rest of us. “I’ve officially been a Backstreet Boy for half my life.”
“More than half for me,” I chimed in. “I was twelve when I joined this group. These guys became my big brothers and basically helped raise me.”
“And what a fine young man you’ve turned out to be, Nickolas,” joked Brian, grinning at me as everyone chuckled.
Kevin cleared his throat. “Y’all laugh, but this really is a brotherhood,” he said, turning his head to look at Howie and me, then at Brian and AJ. “Even though I’m no longer a Backstreet Boy, these four have been here for me during what has been the hardest time in my life.”
Everyone fell silent when the speech turned serious. You could have heard a pin drop in that place as Kevin continued to talk.
“They rushed out here right after my accident to be with me while I was in the hospital. They sang at my wife’s funeral when I couldn’t be there. They visited me in rehab, and even when they had to go back out on the road, they called me every day to see how I was doing. When I got out of rehab, AJ and Nick even moved in to help me and Mason. If that ain’t an act of love, I don’t know what is.”
A lump rose in my throat as I looked over and saw tears gleaming in his eyes.
“I’m so grateful to God for bringing the five of us together fifteen years ago.” He looked to his left and then his right again, making eye contact with each one of us. “You may not be my bandmates anymore, but you’ll always be my brothers. Happy anniversary, fellas.”
As he lowered his mic, people started to applaud again.
“Like I’ve said all along: Once a Backstreet Boy, always a Backstreet Boy,” said AJ, smiling at Kevin as we all nodded in agreement. “We love you, bro.”
“I wanna second everything these guys have said,” added Howie. “As many of you know, my father’s been battling cancer. We were supposed to be in Europe this month, but the guys made the decision to put the tour on hold so I could be there for my dad. I’m grateful for the extra time I’ve had at home with my family, but it also feels good to be back in L.A. with my Backstreet brothers, celebrating our fifteenth anniversary. Here’s to fifteen more!”
“Hear, hear!” I heard someone shout as everyone cheered again and raised their glasses to toast us.
“Let’s get the party going again!” I exclaimed before handing my mic back to the DJ, who cranked up the music once more. When the party was back in full swing, I turned to Kevin. “Thanks for doing that with us,” I told him, leaning down close to his ear so he could hear me over the loud music. “You sounded fucking fantastic, dawg.”
A crooked smile spread across Kevin’s face. “It felt good to sing with the group again,” he admitted, wiping away a stray tear with the back of his hand. “Thanks for the encouragement, brother.”
I nodded, squeezing his shoulder. “Love you, bro.”
Following our performance, the five of us drifted apart again, returning to different groups of friends in different corners of the room. In that respect, the party sort of reflected real life, where we would reunite for a recording session or tour, then go our separate ways. We rarely spent our time off together anymore. Living with two of my Backstreet brothers was definitely an adjustment. It was like being on tour, but with early morning wake-ups instead of late night after parties (bad) and a big house instead of a bus (good). And instead of traveling around the world, we hung out in one place all day, every day (bad).
After a month of doing almost nothing except taking care of Kevin and his kid, I desperately needed a night off. Howie, who had spent the past month with his sick father, must have felt the same way. As the party wore on, we naturally gravitated towards each other. At first, I couldn’t help but keep an eye on Kevin, who stayed near Brian or AJ most of the night. But the more I drank, the looser I felt and the less I worried about what Kevin was doing.
To Kevin’s credit, he made it until almost midnight before he wanted to go home. AJ came over to let me know they were leaving. “You coming with us, or are you gonna stay?” he asked.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay.” I wasn’t ready to go home; I was having too good a time hanging out with Howie and other friends I’d hardly seen since agreeing to this whole caregiver arrangement.
AJ nodded. “No, that’s fine. I’ll do the night routine, but you better get your ass home by six to handle the morning stuff. I mean it, Nick.” He locked eyes with me, giving me a serious look. “If you stagger in hours late and leave Kevin and Mason hanging like you did last time…”
“I won’t!” I insisted, shaking my head. “I promise, that will never happen again. I’ll be home well before six.”
“Okay. I’m counting on you, bro.” His eyes bored into mine. “Kev’s counting on you.”
I nodded. “I won’t let you down.” I wanted to tell him to set an alarm just in case, but I didn’t dare, knowing it would only make him doubt me more. “See you in the morning.”
“Be safe,” said AJ, giving me one more meaningful glance before he went back to Kevin. I watched them say their goodbyes as they worked their way toward the door. Brian and Leighanne left with them.
Howie brought over fresh drinks for Leigh and me. “Cheers to fifteen years!” he shouted over the pounding bass of the music, clinking his glass against mine with a grin. He was a happy drunk. I was just glad to see him having a good time.
By one-thirty, the party was winding down. I could tell the restaurant crew was ready to kick us out so they could finish cleaning up and go home. But Howie didn’t want to call it a night. “C’mon, Nicky!” he said, slinging his arm around my shoulders. “The night is young! Let’s keep drinking!”
“Where?” I asked, laughing. “We’re in L.A., remember? Everything closes by two a.m. around here.”
“Come back to my place then. Casa de Dorough is always open!”
“Dude, I gotta get up in like four hours to take care of Kevin and Mason.”
Howie frowned. “Can’t AJ help with that?”
“He already did by taking Kevin home and putting him to bed. He probably hasn’t even gone to bed yet himself because Kevin has to be repositioned every few hours,” I explained. I tried to be patient, knowing Howie had no idea what we’d been dealing with for the past month. “We’ve got a good arrangement worked out. AJ stays up late to turn Kevin in the middle of the night, and I get up early to turn him in the morning. I fucked up a couple weeks ago when I was way late coming home after Jenn’s birthday party, and Kevin almost got a bedsore because he was left lying in the same position for too long. I can’t let that happen again.”
“Just stay up then! You can always take a nap later,” was Howie’s advice. I had to admit, he had a point. I would probably feel less groggy later if I stayed awake instead of only sleeping for a few hours before I had to get up again. But I didn’t know if I could make it until eight, when Greg arrived to get Kevin ready for the day. That was the earliest I could wake up AJ to watch Mason while I went to bed.
“But I’ve already been up since six a.m.,” I said, stifling a yawn. “I’m friggin’ tired, dawg.”
“You’re twenty-eight, not eighty-eight! You can sleep when you’re dead,” Howie replied, goading me with a grin. He knew I would give in. I could never say no to him, especially now that his dad was dying. I knew that was why Howie didn’t want the night to end. He needed this escape even more than I did.
“Ugh… fine,” I groaned. “But we’d better get going. I wanna stop and grab something on the way.”
“We’ve got plenty of booze and snacks back at the house,” Howie assured me, but that wasn’t what I had in mind.
We took a taxi to a liquor store, where I’d texted one of my dealers to meet me. Howie and I went inside while Leigh waited in the back of the cab. While he wandered down one aisle to check out the tequila selection, I snuck off to the other side of the store. I found my guy waiting in the wine section. I pressed a wad of bills into his hand, and he slipped me a small bag of white powder, which I quickly tucked away in the inside pocket of my jacket. I grabbed a random bottle of wine before making my way back to the front of the store.
“Since when are you a wine drinker?” Howie asked, raising his eyebrows when he saw me set the bottle down on the checkout counter.
“I’m not really, but I thought Leigh would like it,” I lied as the cashier rang it up and put it in a brown bag for me.
“Oh. Well, that was nice of you. Not necessary, though – you know the ‘Never show up empty-handed’ rule doesn’t really apply when you’re family, right?” Howie smiled at me. He could be so naive sometimes. I felt bad for hiding things from him, but I knew he would never approve of me buying drugs to take back to his house. I also knew I needed a pick-me-up if we were to keep the party going all night.
When we got back to his place, Leigh had one glass of wine with us and went to bed. I excused myself to the bathroom and snorted some coke to help me stay awake. It worked its magic, filling me with a fresh burst of energy as I rejoined Howie in his living room. We didn’t stop drinking until dawn. By that point, I had been up for twenty-four hours. I did another line just before I left so I wouldn’t fall asleep in the back of a cab.
The sun was rising when the cab driver dropped me off outside Kevin’s house. I let myself in and staggered up the stairs to Kevin’s bedroom, hoping he would be too drowsy to notice how drunk and high I was. At least I’d made it home more or less on time.
“Hey, Kev,” I whispered when I went into his room. “It’s six o’clock. Time to turn you.”
He let out a low groan as I rolled him from his right side onto his left. “You smell like a distillery,” he said without opening his eyes.
“I know,” I admitted, adjusting the pillow between his knees. “I’m gonna go make coffee so I can sober up.”
I braced myself for a lecture about my drinking, but all Kevin said was, “Can you grab me a Percocet first?”
I frowned. Kevin rarely asked for painkillers outside of the regular doses he took three times a day, especially not the heavy-duty stuff. He said he didn’t like how they made him feel. “Yeah, of course. You okay?”
“The neuropathic pain’s pretty bad this morning,” he mumbled. “Probably from drinking last night. Alcohol affects me differently now.”
“Should you be mixing it with meds?” I asked and immediately felt like a hypocrite, considering the fact that I’d fueled myself with a combination of vodka and cocaine. My high was wearing off, but I could still feel the residual effects of the drugs and alcohol coursing through my veins, making me light-headed and jittery.
“Probably not, but I need some relief, dawg. Please…” he begged. “I won’t be able to get back to sleep without it.”
I couldn’t let him lie there in pain, so I hurried into his bathroom, turned on the light, and opened the medicine cabinet. I rummaged through the prescription bottles until I found the Percocet. On sudden impulse, I also pulled out the bottle of Valium and shook two of the little round tablets into my palm. I tucked them into my pocket, planning to take them before I went to bed to help me fall asleep. Kevin and his caregivers had so much medication to keep track of, no one would notice two pills missing. I opened the bottle of Percocet and fished out a pale blue pill to bring to Kevin. I raised the head of his bed so he could wash it down with a sip of water from his bottle.
“Thanks, brother,” he whispered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“No problem.” I watched him anxiously, wishing there was something more I could do to take his pain away. “Do you want me to put the bed back down, or would it help to sit up a little? I could put another pillow behind your neck… or how about a heating pad?”
Kevin shook his head. “It’s not my neck. It’s my legs.”
“Your legs?” That made no sense to me. “No offense, but I thought you couldn’t feel your legs.”
“All I can feel in them is this type of pain. Usually it’s more of a tingly pins-and-needles feeling, like when your foot falls asleep, but right now it feels like my feet are on fire.”
I felt my forehead wrinkle as I made a face. “That sounds awful. Is there anything I can do? A foot massage, maybe?”
In spite of his pain, he smirked up at me. “You would really rub my feet?”
I shrugged, feeling my face flush. “Yeah, if you think it would help.” Maybe my suggestion was weird, but I’d done so many other weird things for him in the last month, the thought of rubbing his feet didn’t even faze me. It wasn’t much different from taking his socks off when I helped him get ready for bed. Besides, I still felt guilty about getting high at Howie’s house before I went home to take care of Kevin’s kid. Either I had hidden it well, or Kevin was in too much pain to notice or mention it. I was secretly glad, which made me feel even guiltier.
“That’s real sweet, Nick,” he said hoarsely, managing a smile. “You know, I never really appreciated what a nurturer you are. You’re gonna make some lucky woman very happy someday – and when you have kids, you’re gonna be an awesome dad.”
My cheeks grew hotter as I shook my head, feeling undeserving of his praise. “I doubt that. I don’t want a wife or kids, anyway.”
“Yeah, I know. You say that now, but you may change your mind someday. You never know where life will take you. I mean, look at me.”
All the more reason never to get married, I thought sadly as I looked down at his disabled body. It could all be taken away in an instant. But even in my drunken state, I knew better than to say so out loud.
“You’re off the hook today, though,” Kevin added. “I don’t think a foot massage would help. It’s not my muscles that hurt. It’s my nerves. Something about the pathways being disrupted by my injury… it makes ‘em misfire and causes these weird sensations sometimes. I dunno; it’s hard to explain. There’s nothin’ much you can do about it, but the pain pill should help.”
I nodded, pretending to understand even though I didn’t.
“I’ll be alright,” he assured me. “You can go wait for Mason to wake up. I’m gonna try to fall back to sleep for couple more hours ‘til Greg gets here.”
“Okay. Call me if you need anything.” I made sure he was reasonably comfortable, fluffing his pillows and pulling the covers back over his body before I left his room and poked my head into Mason’s.
The baby was already awake, babbling contentedly in his crib. He sat up, smiling when he saw me, so I picked him up, changed his diaper, and carried him downstairs. I fixed him a bottle of formula to tide him over until breakfast and made myself a pot of coffee to keep me functioning until I could finally go to bed.
I had never been more relieved to hear the doorbell ring at eight o’clock. Kevin had given Greg a key so he could let himself into the house if he needed to, but he always waited for one of us to get the door before he just barged right in. “Good morning!” He greeted me with a bright smile as I stood back to let him in.
“Morning,” I grunted back.
“Late night last night?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me. Even though I’d sobered up some, I must have looked like shit.
I nodded. “You could say that. I’m about to pawn Mason off on AJ so I can take a nap.”
He chuckled. “Sounds like a plan. How’s Kevin this morning?”
“He was in some pain when he woke up earlier. I gave him a Percocet. I guess it helped because he was passed out again when I checked on him a little while ago.”
Greg nodded. “Good. Just keep an eye on him with that stuff – make sure he doesn’t take too much of it. It can be habit-forming, and high doses may suppress his breathing.”
I frowned. Of course, I knew Percocet was the kind of painkiller people abused, but I didn’t know the part about it making it harder for him to breathe. Kevin had never mentioned that; maybe he didn’t know either. Slightly concerned, I scooped up Mason and followed Greg upstairs. I waited in the doorway while he went in to wake Kevin, wanting to make sure everything was okay before I went to bed.
Once I heard Kevin’s groggy voice responding to Greg’s, reassuring me that he was all right, I carried Mason down the hall to AJ’s room. “Rise and shine!” I called out as I plopped Mason down on his chest. “The rugrat’s been fed, he has a fresh diaper on, and I am officially off babysitting duty for the rest of the morning. If you need me, I’ll be in bed.”
So much for my nurturing personality.
I popped the pills from my pocket before I stripped off my clothes and climbed into bed. I expected them to help my overtired, overstimulated body relax enough to fall asleep, but as the sedative took effect, I started to feel worse instead of better.
Lying on my stomach with my head buried in the pillows, I could hear my own heartbeat pounding rapidly in my ears. I hated listening to it; the sloshy sound of it freaked me out, filling me with anxiety. It wasn’t the first time I’d worried that something was wrong with me. I remembered waking up in Mexico the morning of our last show in March with chest pain, convinced I was having a heart attack. I rolled over onto my back and rested my hand on my bare chest. As I held my breath, I felt my heart racing against my palm. I didn’t think it was supposed to be beating so hard and fast while I was lying still. I let out my breath in a low sigh, wondering if I should see a doctor.
For a few minutes, I thought about going to get Greg, who was right down the hall in Kevin’s room. I remembered Kevin saying he was a registered nurse. He would know how to check my pulse. He could probably even take a listen to my chest and tell me if he heard anything wrong with my heart or thought I was just overreacting. But I knew if I went to him with my concerns, I would also have to confess to snorting cocaine earlier and stealing Kevin’s medication, since it could be related. I wasn’t sure I was willing to do that.
Paranoia is also a side effect of drug abuse, I reminded myself. That’s probably all this is. You’re being a hypochondriac again, Nick, panicking over nothing. Your heart’s racing because you drank too much coffee after putting all that other shit in your body. You just need to sleep it off. You’ll feel better when you wake up.
I kept telling myself that until I finally drifted off to sleep. But in the back of my mind lurked the nagging fear that I might not wake up.
Of course, I did wake up a few hours later. And I did feel better. But I still didn’t feel great. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I had truly felt great, physically or mentally. But I forced that realization to the back of my mind with my other negative thoughts and worries. Aches and pains were a normal part of getting older, I assured myself. I was in my late twenties now, but I still liked to eat, drink, and party like I had as a teenager. I knew I probably needed to make some lifestyle changes: start eating healthier, cut back on my drinking, and quit doing drugs. But in the light of a beautiful spring day, I didn’t think anything could really be wrong with me.
Denial is a powerful defense mechanism. It can protect you by preventing anxiety. But it can also make you believe lies.
***