Chapter 46

Nick

“I’m here with my confession… got nothing to hide no more. I don’t know where to start… but to show you the shape of my heart…”

I grimaced at my reflection in the mirror as I drew out the last note of my solo, holding an invisible microphone to my mouth. Beads of sweat dripped down my forehead. My face was bright red.

“I’m looking back on things I’ve done.” My eyes moved to the four other guys in the mirror as their voices joined mine. “I never wanna play the same old part… and keep you in the dark…” They were all perspiring, too, but none of them looked quite as sweaty and exhausted as I did. “Now let me show you the shape of my heart…”

When we finished the song, we joined hands and bowed before breaking apart and scattering to different corners of the rehearsal studio to grab our water bottles. I slid down the wall to the floor, stretching my legs out in front of me as I chugged water.

Two weeks had passed since the Fourth of July, and the Backstreet Boys were finally getting ready to go back on the road. It had been four months since our last concert, so we were all a little rusty. We’d spent the past week practicing our choreography, but we didn’t do a run-through of the full show until the final day of rehearsals.

“You okay, Nicky?” Howie came over and sat down next to me.

I nodded, putting the cap back on my bottle of water. “Yeah, bro, I’m fine.” He and Brian had been babying me all week, bringing me water, checking to make sure I was “okay.” They watched me like a hawk, as if they were half-expecting me to drop dead of a heart attack at any moment. I’m sure my flushed, sweaty face didn’t help to reassure them that I was all right, but it shouldn’t have alarmed them either. I’d always turned red and sweated a ton when I was performing, even when I was in my prime. I was breathing hard, and my heart was pounding, but that was to be expected after an intense workout – which is exactly what one of our shows was. “You do realize I performed with this condition for at least a month without even knowing it, right?” I added, thinking back to the first leg of the tour that had ended in Mexico.

Howie’s face fell. “Oh, Nicky… I’m so sorry. I should have noticed something was wrong. I mean, I guess maybe I did notice you were a little more winded than usual on the last leg, but I just thought it was-”

“Because I was fat?” I interrupted flatly. “Or hungover? Or smoking? Yeah… me, too.”

Howie’s cheeks darkened. “Don’t put words in my mouth. What I was going to say was, we’re all getting older, and-”

“Oh, so now you’re calling me old?” I raised my eyebrows. “Speak for yourself, dawg; I’m still in my twenties.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Howie spluttered, clearly flustered.

I cracked a smile. “I know. I’m just giving you a hard time. Don’t feel bad – it’s all true. I’m getting older, too, and I need to start taking better care of myself before it’s too late. But I’m not gonna drop dead today, so you can stop treating me like I am.”

“Sorry – I can’t help but worry about my little bro,” he replied, smiling back. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

“You don’t have to take his word for it,” AJ said as he wandered over, wiping his sweaty forehead with a towel. “I can vouch for him. Nick’s been working his ass off at the gym lately, and he’s already lost, like, what… five, ten pounds?”

“Eleven,” I said, feeling a surge of pride as I remembered stepping on the scale at the doctor’s office earlier that week.

A month had passed since my first follow-up appointment with my cardiologist, and Dr. Richards couldn’t have been more pleased with my progress. “You’re on the right track,” she’d told me after she finished examining me. “You’re looking good, and all your numbers are going in the right direction.” She had given me medical clearance to tour, making me promise to come back for another check-up in three months so she could continue to monitor my heart condition. I appreciated her acknowledging my efforts to adopt a healthier lifestyle, but hearing those words from AJ meant even more.

“I’m proud of you, bro,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “I know it hasn’t been easy.” Considering how critical he had been of my past mistakes, his praise meant the world to me.

“Wow, Nick, that’s awesome!” Howie exclaimed. “Keep up the great work.”

“What’s awesome?” Brian called from across the rehearsal room, looking up from his phone. He could barely make it an hour without texting his wife to “check in.”

“Nick’s lost eleven pounds!” Howie shouted back.

“Well, hot damn! That is awesome!” Brian agreed, grinning as he finally put his phone down and walked over to us. “You look good, Frack.”

I snorted, glancing again at my reflection in the mirrored wall opposite me. “Actually, I look like a sweaty pig right now. But thanks.”

Brian shrugged. “We all look like sweaty pigs. How do you feel?”

“Tired,” I admitted, leaning my head back against the wall. “But I’m all right.”

He studied me for a few seconds. “I know it’s not the same, but I remember how exhausted I felt for our first few shows after my heart surgery. I’d be backstage sucking on oxygen between sets just so I could catch my breath enough to get back out there and sing. It helped, though, having those oxygen tanks handy.”

Hearing him talk about his surgery took me back ten years. At the time, seeing my best friend slumped in a chair with an oxygen mask strapped to his face had terrified me. I realized the fear I’d felt then must be similar to what he and Howie – and maybe even AJ, although he hid it better than the other two – were feeling for me now that our roles were reversed. Brian was obviously trying to empathize with me, so I tried to be understanding, too.

“I’m sure it did, but I don’t need or want that,” I told him as gently as I could. “Honestly, I don’t want anyone else to know I have this heart problem yet. I’d rather wait and tell people in my own time, when I’m ready to, you know? So please don’t make a big deal out of this. I don’t wanna be babied or treated any differently.”

Brian nodded. “Fair enough. But, in return, you have to be honest with us about how you’re feeling. No hiding symptoms, pretending you’re fine when you’re not.” As he locked eyes with me, flashing me a stern look, it occurred to me that maybe Brian understood more than I realized. We had never talked about how long I’d been feeling bad before the night I ended up in the ER, but he must have known from his own experience that my condition hadn’t just come out of nowhere, that there were warning signs I had ignored. “We just don’t want you to push yourself too hard and wind up in the hospital again,” Brian said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

“Trust me, dawg, I don’t want that either,” I replied with a shudder, remembering how scary the whole experience had been, from being rushed to the emergency room to getting discharged with a serious diagnosis and everything in between: two days spent hooked up to tubes and monitors, getting poked and prodded by doctors and nurses, lying perfectly still while they looked at and listened to my heart, running on a treadmill with wires taped to my chest and radioactive particles pumping through my bloodstream. I never wanted to relive that nightmare.

Once we wrapped up rehearsal, we all gathered our things and walked out to the parking lot together. “Well, I’ll see y’all in St. Johns,” said Brian, slinging his bag higher on his shoulder as he turned toward his car. “Have a safe flight, Nick.”

“You too, bro. See ya soon!” I called back as I followed AJ to his car. We had a week off before we had to be in Newfoundland for our first two shows. Since Kevin’s mom had decided to stay in L.A. for the rest of the month, I was flying home to Nashville in the morning to check on my house before we went back on tour. AJ had already moved back to his own house in Los Feliz to make more room for Ann, but he had agreed to give me a ride to and from rehearsals since I didn’t have my own car in L.A. “Thanks again for the lift, dude,” I said when he dropped me off in Kevin’s driveway. “I really should look into getting my own place out here again, huh? It’d be a lot more convenient.”

AJ shrugged. “You do whatever works best for you, buddy. I love L.A., but there’s a lot of temptation here… a lot of toxic people. I totally understand why you’d wanna get the hell out.”

I nodded. That was exactly why I had moved to Tennessee in the first place. It was even more important for me to avoid the sort of temptations and toxic people he was talking about now that my life literally depended on it. If I let myself fall back into my old bad habits, my heart condition would only get worse instead of better. I hadn’t forgotten Dr. Richards’s dire warnings about heart failure and sudden death. Whenever I wanted a drink, her words rang through my head: “Nick, you need to change your ways or risk dying young.”

AJ must have been thinking along the same lines because he added, “You take care of yourself while you’re home next week, okay? Don’t fall off the wagon just ‘cause you’re away from Daddy Kevin.”

I forced a laugh. “I’ll be a good boy. I promise.”

He patted my knee. “Good. See ya, Prick.”

“Bye, AJ,” I replied, reaching for the door handle. I grabbed my bag from the back seat before heading into the house.

“How was rehearsal?” Kevin asked when I walked into the kitchen. He was sitting at the table with his mom and Mason, eating dinner. The smell of Ann’s cooking made my mouth water.

“Fine,” I said, getting out a glass to fill with water from the dispenser on the front of the fridge. “We finally did a full run-through of the show, and that went well.”

Kevin nodded, pushing a pile of corn against his plate guard so he could scoop up a bite. “Glad to hear it.”

“I bet you’re hungry,” Ann inserted, smiling up at me. “Grab a plate! I made fried chicken.”

I eyed the pile of chicken cooling on the stove. “It smells amazing, but I probably shouldn’t,” I said as my gaze landed on the grease-soaked paper towels lining the bottom of the pan. “I’m supposed to be on a diet, remember?”

“Diet, schmiet,” said Ann, waving her hand dismissively. “You burned plenty of calories dancing at rehearsal today.”

“Ma’s right,” Kevin said thickly, swallowing a mouthful of corn. “Besides, she went to a lot of work to make this.”

“I wanted to do something special for our last meal together,” she explained with a smile. “You’ve done so much for my son and grandson these last few months; it was the least I could do.”

Kevin nodded. “You can’t turn down authentic, homemade Kentucky fried chicken, Nick. Consider this your cheat day.”

“Well, okay,” I replied, grinning. “If you say so.”

“And don’t even think about taking off the skin,” he added, stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork. “That’s the best part.”

I chuckled. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” I got out a plate and filled it with servings of fried chicken, corn, and potato salad. Once I sat down at the table, it took all of my willpower to prevent myself from scarfing my food. I had worked up quite an appetite at rehearsal, and everything tasted as good as it smelled. I tried to eat slowly and savor each bite, knowing it was the last home-cooked meal I would get to enjoy for a while.

“So, what time do you need to be at the airport tomorrow morning?” Ann asked as I chewed.

I swallowed my mouthful of chicken before answering, “Eight.”

Kevin looked up from his plate. “Dang, I didn’t realize your flight was that early. I’ll still be in bed, unless Sam can come earlier to get me up.”

“Don’t worry about it, bro,” I said, wiping my greasy fingers with my napkin. “I didn’t expect you to drive me to the airport or anything. I’ll call a cab.”

“I wanted to at least see you off,” said Kevin, sounding disappointed.

I shrugged. “We don’t need to have some drawn-out, tearful goodbye; it’s not like I’m going to war. I’ll be back in three months for my next doctor’s appointment.”

He smiled. “I know… but promise me you’ll at least pop into my room tomorrow morning to say goodbye before you leave.”

I nodded. “I will.”

That night, I helped him get ready for bed one last time. Ann had gone to bed early, offering to get up and turn Kevin so I could get a good night’s sleep. “You’ve got an amazing mom, you know that?” I said as I propped his feet up on a pillow, making sure there was plenty of padding under his ankles to protect his heels from pressure sores.

Kevin nodded. “I know. I’m lucky to have her; that’s for sure.”

“I mean, if something like this happened to me, my mom would invite a camera crew over to the house to film her ‘taking care’ of me.” I made air quotes with my fingers and rolled my eyes. “Then she’d write another book or do a documentary about it.”

He offered me a sad smile. “If something like this happened to you, your Backstreet family would be there for you, just like y’all have been here for me.”

“I know. You guys have always been a better family to me than my biological one.”

“I can’t complain about my biological family, but my Backstreet brothers are pretty great.” His faint smile grew into a full-on grin before his face sobered again. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me over the last few months, Nick. Living here, spending your whole break looking after a quadriplegic and a baby… Not many people would have done that.”

“Bullshit,” I said, shaking my head. “If AJ and I hadn’t moved in, your mom would have stayed, or your other brothers would have stepped up to help out. I only did what any decent person would do for his brother.”

“Well, I’m blessed to be surrounded by so many decent people then,” he replied, his smile returning. “I’m proud of you, Nick. You’ve grown up to be a good man.”

Blushing, I smiled back. “Thanks,” I said, pulling the blankets up over his body. “Love you, bro.”

Kevin burrowed his head deeper into the pillow. “I love you, too, little brother.”

I looked around, making sure his phone and water bottle were within reach before I left the room. “You need anything else before I go to bed?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning?”

I nodded, reaffirming my earlier promise. “‘Night, Kev.”

“Goodnight, Nick.”

I turned off the overhead light and shut the door on my way out. As I tiptoed past Mason’s room, I could hear soft music playing behind his closed door, an album of classic rock lullabies I’d bought him as a birthday present. Kevin and Ann must have put it on to help him fall asleep. I smiled as I pictured him curled up in his crib. I still couldn’t imagine myself having kids of my own someday, but I had to admit, I was going to miss Kevin’s kid.

Mason was already awake when I got up the next morning. I brought my bags downstairs to find him eating breakfast in the kitchen with Ann. “Good morning!” she greeted me cheerfully. “Got time for a quick bite? I made oatmeal for myself and Mason, but I could whip you up an omelet or something if you’d like.”

I smiled. “Thanks, but don’t worry about doing that. I’ve gotta get going soon. I’ll grab something at the airport.”

“Well, all right…”

I called the cab company to arrange a ride to LAX, then went back upstairs to tell Kevin goodbye. He was lying awake in bed when I entered his room. “Hey, Nick,” he said, his voice still gravelly from sleep.

“Morning, Kev. I just came in to say goodbye.”

“Well, c’mere, man.” He reached out and patted the edge of his mattress. “Do it the right way.”

I went over and perched on the side of it, twisting my body towards him. “How’d you sleep?”

He yawned. “Not too bad. You?”

“Fine. I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight, though,” I admitted.

“I’ll bet. It’s been a long time, huh?”

I nodded. Between traveling for work and caring for Kevin, I hadn’t been home in more than seven months. I couldn’t wait to get back to my own private sanctuary, where I didn’t have to worry about anyone but myself. That night, I would slip between the clean sheets my housekeeper had put on my bed and enjoy eight hours of interrupted sleep without having to wake up in the wee hours of the morning to turn anyone over. I would sleep in as long as I wanted the next morning with no baby crying to get out of his crib at the crack of dawn. It was going to be great. But I didn’t tell Kevin that, not wanting him to feel guilty for causing me to give up the freedom I was used to or envious because I was about to get it back. Knowing he would never get to experience that same sense of freedom again, I didn’t take it for granted. I had learned to be grateful for the simple pleasures my able-bodied life afforded me.

“You’re probably glad you won’t have to take care of my crippled ass anymore,” Kevin added with a wicked grin, as if he could read my mind. Before I could protest, he went on seriously, “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself. Stay on the wagon. Stay off the drugs.”

I nodded again. “I will. Trust me, dude, I don’t want this to get any worse,” I replied, resting my hand over my heart. “I don’t wanna die.”

“Good,” he said firmly. “‘Cause I don’t wanna watch you drive yourself to an early grave. God knows I’ve suffered enough loss lately.”

I swallowed hard. “I know. I would never wanna put you through any more pain.”

His face relaxed into a smile. “Honestly, Nick, having you here has helped to ease my pain. So thank you. Thank you, not only for taking care of me, but for treating me like a regular person, making me feel human again, and giving me some sense of normalcy in a situation that’s been anything but normal. I’m beyond grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’ll never forget it.”

By the time he finished talking, his eyes had filled with tears. I looked away, feeling awkward as I remembered how reluctant I had been to go along with AJ’s plan to move in with him in the first place. I didn’t want to do it then… but now, I was glad I had.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, shifting my weight on the bed. “I’m sorry I won’t be there for Kristin’s celebration of life in a few weeks, but I’m sure it’ll be beautiful.”

He nodded, flashing a tight-lipped smile. “I’m sorry I won’t be at any of your shows, but I’m sure they’ll be great, too. Break a leg for me,” he said wistfully.

“You should come to our last show in L.A.,” I suggested. “It’s not until the end of November, so you have plenty of time to think about it.”

“Yeah… we’ll see…” Clearly, Kevin wasn’t ready to commit. I couldn’t blame him. It had been hard enough to convince him to go to our fifteenth anniversary party, but a whole concert full of fans? That was a big ask. But I hoped he would feel more confident in four months.

I glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table. “I better get going, dawg. My cab’ll be here any minute.”

“Okay. Have a safe flight. Will you text me when you get home?”

I grinned. “Sure, Dad.” Reaching out, I squeezed his shoulder before I rose to my feet. “Tell Sam goodbye for me when she gets here. I’ll see you in October.”

He smiled back. “I will. See ya, Nick.”

It felt weird to leave him lying there, but at the same time, I was glad to be on my way. I stopped by the kitchen to say goodbye to Ann and Mason, then dragged my bags to the bottom of the driveway to wait for my cab. It pulled up to the gate a minute after I made it there. “Perfect timing,” I told the driver as I climbed into the back seat. “LAX, please.”

***

For months, I had been looking forward to going home, but once I got there, living alone again wasn’t as great as I’d thought it would be. My house in Franklin felt too big for one person. I wandered aimlessly from room to room, lonely and bored. Without a routine to follow or other people around to care for, I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I tried to come up with my own routine. I even wrote out a daily schedule for myself on the whiteboard in my home office. It included morning workouts, making healthy meals, practicing the guitar, and, of course, playing video games. But it was a lot harder to stick with it without Kevin and AJ watching me. During moments of weakness, I would find myself raiding the kitchen, rummaging desperately through the pantry for any edible junk food I had stashed there, opening the fridge to stare longingly at the liquor bottles lining the back of the top shelf.

One time, I got as far as taking out a handle of vodka and opening it, but instead of filling a glass, I poured it straight into the sink. It felt oddly therapeutic to watch the drink that had poisoned my heart flow down the drain. The rest of the bottles soon followed, giving me a sense of deja vu as I repeated what Kevin had forced me to do right after I was discharged from the hospital.

Once I finished ridding the house of alcohol, I filled a trash bag with all the stale chips, snack cakes, and candy taking up space in my pantry, as well as the frozen appetizers and ice cream from the freezer. I took the bag straight out to the garbage can at the curb so I would be less tempted to try to salvage any junk food from it later.

Instead, I defrosted a chicken breast and cooked it on the George Foreman grill Kevin had given me for my birthday. It tasted pretty good, too, with some barbecue sauce on top and a bag of steamed broccoli on the side.

“Finally getting some use out of your gift,” I texted Kevin along with a picture of my dinner. “Not as good as your mom’s chicken, but at least it’s less fattening.”

“Good for you!” he wrote back.

His words made me smile. Maybe this was how I could keep myself from falling off the wagon when we went back on tour, where temptation would inevitably rear its ugly head once again. Stay in touch with Kevin, who could hold me accountable and help me stay on track. It would be like having a sponsor without actually signing up for another twelve-step program. I knew I could always count on AJ to keep an eye on me, too. Resisting Howie would be harder, but I didn’t think he would be so eager to party with me now that he knew how much it had affected my health.

This leg of the tour would be different, I told myself. I had finally turned my life around, and this time, there was no going back.

***