I stared at the blank, white screen in front of me. It seemed to stare back, unblinking, intimidating.
With a sigh, I looked away, my eyes wandering around the large studio to see what the other guys were doing. Howie sat alone on the piano bench, hunched over his notebook. I watched as he scribbled something down, humming softly to himself. Nick, Brian, and AJ were huddled up in the opposite corner. I could hear Nick strumming chords on his guitar as AJ and Brian harmonized with each other, but I couldn’t make out the words they were singing. In any case, it sounded like they were making more progress with writing songs than I was.
I forced myself to refocus, determined to put some lyrics down on paper before we broke for lunch. My laptop was set up with voice-to-text, so all I had to do was talk to it instead of typing. But the words wouldn’t come.
Dragging my thumb across the touchpad, I switched tabs, pulling up the list I’d made of possible topics for songs. Fatherhood. Family. Grief. Trauma. Resilience. Change. Love. They were all themes from the last five years of my life. Yet, a part of me was afraid to write something personal, potentially triggering memories and emotions I had tried to put to bed.
As my eyes lingered on the last word on the page, Natalie’s face popped into my mind. I felt my lips curve into a smile when I found myself thinking about her, wondering where she was at that moment. By now, her plane had to be somewhere over the Atlantic, on its way back to the States. I picked up my phone and sent her a text: “Missing you already. Text me when you get home.” Then I opened my photo gallery and swiped through the pictures we had taken together in the days before we flew to London.
One of my favorites was a selfie Natalie had snapped of the two of us on the Fourth of July. We were on my mom’s patio, and the sun was setting behind us, staining the sky brilliant shades of orange and pink. Natalie was squatting next to my chair with her arm around me and her cheek pressed against mine. Our faces were flushed and streaked with sweat, and our hair was still damp from the water fight, but our mouths were smiling, our eyes shining with laughter.
I looked at the photo for a long time. At first, I focused on Natalie. Even with her makeup running and her hair frizzing from the humidity, I found her beautiful. In fact, I preferred this laidback, fun-loving, slightly disheveled version of her to the perfectly polished flight attendant I had first met on the plane.
Eventually, my gaze shifted to my own face. The smile I wore wasn’t the same fake one I’d been forcing in photos for the last four years. This one actually reached my eyes, reflecting the genuine happiness I felt when I was with Natalie. Being around her made me forget about the grief, insecurity, and other baggage I carried around with me wherever I went.
As I admired the beautiful sunset behind us, remembering how much better it had looked in person, I was struck by the memory of watching the sun rise over the ocean on the long flight to London. I had turned away from my window to find Natalie standing next to me in the aisle in her red dress, wanting to know if I needed anything. She was like my own personal ray of sunshine, warding off the darkness with her natural light.
Feeling a tiny flash of inspiration, I turned my attention back to my laptop, where the white screen was still taunting me. I clicked the microphone icon in the corner and tried to put my thoughts into words.
After a while, Nick wandered over with his guitar. “How’s it goin’?” he asked.
“It’s goin’,” I said with a shrug, showing him the lyrics I had written so far:
When the sun comes out,
And the darkness fades,
You give me strength to get up
And face a new day
And even when the night falls,
And I’m feeling tired and weak,
I fall asleep with a smile on my face
‘Cause you’re lying next to me
And I know
The darkness doesn’t last
Even when the night seems long
The sun comes out each morning
As the blackbird sings its song
And the rain won’t fall forever
Even when the sky is gray
The storm cloud’s silver lining
Means a rainbow’s on its way
When the sun comes out
When the sun comes out
I watched the smile spread across Nick’s face as he read them. “This is really good, Kev!” he exclaimed. “I love the chorus.”
I shifted my weight, sitting up a little straighter in my chair. “You think so? It’s not too cliche?”
“Nah, dude. It’s like… poetic or something,” said Nick with a shrug. “Will you sing it for me? I wanna hear how it goes.”
Clearing my throat, I sang the melody I’d come up with to accompany the lyrics. Nick made me sing it twice. The second time, he began to pick out chords to accompany me on his guitar. Soon, he was strumming and singing along, his voice blending with mine. Hearing the harmony of my words sung to the rich, warm tones of his guitar gave me goosebumps on the back of my neck. God, I had missed making music so much.
“That was beautiful, Nick,” I said, blinking back tears.
He nodded. “We make a good team,” he replied, giving me a fist bump. “I’m glad you’re back, bro.”
I swallowed hard. “Me too.”
We worked on the song together until two o’clock, when we all decided it was time to take a break. “Y’all wanna hear the song we’ve been workin’ on?” Brian asked before we left the studio for lunch.
“Sure,” said Howie. “Let’s hear it.”
We gathered in the center of the studio, where there was a sitting area with a couple of couches. Nick perched on the arm of one of them and began playing chords on his guitar as AJ, looking at the lyrics on his laptop, cleared his throat and opened his mouth to sing:
“Turn the radio on; I don’t hear our song, yeah.
I try to turn you on, but you won’t play along, yeah.
And everybody said we won’t last forever.
I just wanna know if we’re still together.
Turn the radio on; I don’t hear our song.”
“Hey… hey… hey…” Brian and Nick’s voices blended with AJ’s as they transitioned into the chorus:
“I’ve waited my whole life here in the spotlight.
Why can’t you see me? Ah-ah-ahh…
I stand in darkness, eyes filled with sadness.
Why can’t you see me? Ah-ah-ahh…
I won’t walk away…
I won’t walk away. Ah-ah-ahh…”
As they trailed off, AJ shrugged. “That’s all we’ve got so far. What do you think?”
Howie clapped. “That was great, guys!”
“Nice work,” I agreed, giving them a nod of approval. “The chorus is beautiful. But what’s it about? A relationship? Or the group?”
AJ glanced at Brian, who answered, “Whatever you want it to be about. I mean, it could be interpreted as a relationship that’s strained, but we were also inspired by what you and Howie have said about not wanting to be the backup singers anymore.”
Nodding, AJ added, “We hear you, bro, and we want there to be a better balance between all five of us on this album, too. Everyone deserves a chance to be seen and heard.”
I looked over at Howie and found him looking back at me. “Thanks, fellas. We appreciate that.”
Nick cleared his throat. “I agree with what these guys have said, but when you think about it, it could also be about the group as a whole, trying to reclaim the popularity we once had. That first verse: ‘And everybody said we won’t last forever. I just wanna know if we’re still together. Turn the radio on; I don’t hear my song…’” he sang softly. “When was the last time you heard one of our new singles on the radio?”
“2005?” Howie replied. “‘Incomplete.’”
“Exactly. It’s been, what, seven years since Never Gone came out? We’ve released two albums since then, but no one outside of our fanbase seems to remember them.”
“That’s ‘cause Kev wasn’t with us,” said AJ, glancing over at me. “It’ll be different this time around. His return is gonna get us a ton of publicity.”
“Which will probably all revolve around the fact that I’m in a fucking wheelchair now,” I added, rolling my eyes. “That’s the real reason y’all wanted me to come back, huh? All the extra publicity?” I grinned to show them I was kidding.
“Damn, he’s onto us,” Howie whispered jokingly to Nick, who just laughed.
“Nick’s got a point, though,” Brian spoke up. “Our fans know we’ve never gone-” He paused with a grin, waiting for us to chuckle at his wordplay. “-but the rest of the world thinks we broke up years ago and only reunited for the NKOTBSB tour. Just watch: When we release this album, everyone who reports on it will use the words ‘Backstreet’s back,’ thinking they’re being original.”
“Am I original?” Nick sang in an obnoxious, nasal voice.
“Yea-ah,” the rest of us chorused automatically.
“No, really, though – you’re exactly right, Rok,” said AJ. “But we’re gonna prove them all wrong. This album is gonna be amazeballs! I can feel it already.”
After lunch, we worked together on their song, tweaking the lyrics and adding a piano accompaniment while the camera crew filmed more footage for the documentary. By the end of that second day in the studio, I felt good about the progress we’d made already.
As we rode back to the house, I listened to the others make plans for the evening. Nick wanted sushi for dinner, while AJ and Howie were going to see the new Spiderman movie. “Anyone else wanna come?” AJ asked, looking from Brian to me.
I shook my head. “I would, but I’d probably fall asleep in the theater,” I admitted, stifling a yawn with my hand. “I’m exhausted. I’m gonna go to bed early tonight.”
“Same here,” said Brian. “I wanna talk to my family, and then I’ll probably turn in early, too.”
I could tell by the way AJ rolled his eyes at Nick that he thought we were being lame old men, but he would understand in a few months. When you become a father, your priorities change. Making time to call home and talk to my son before I went to bed was more important to me than going to the movies. Besides, I really was tired. I didn’t have the stamina I used to, and working all day on top of dealing with jet lag had taken its toll on me.
But, despite my fatigue, I didn’t start my night routine immediately after dinner. Dawn had called to ask if I cared if she and Keith went on a Jack the Ripper walking tour she wanted to do. “No, that’s fine. Have fun!” I’d told her. I knew I could always ask Brian to help me get ready for bed if she wasn’t back by the time I wanted to turn in. But the spicy Indian food we’d ordered for dinner must have given me a second wind because I found myself hanging out with him in the game room long after the sun went down. Since Q had gone to the movies with the other guys, we had the house to ourselves.
“So, Kev, now that we’re a couple days in… how does it feel to be a Backstreet Boy again?” Brian asked as he leaned casually against the shiplap wall, his pool cue in one hand.
I didn’t answer him at first; I was too busy trying to line up my next shot. I lifted the end of my cue with my left hand, letting it rest against the top rail of the pool table for stability as I aimed the tip at the cue ball, the fingers of my right hand curled loosely around the shaft. It wasn’t exactly proper form, but it was the most effective way I had found to shoot pool from my wheelchair. I pulled the cue back carefully and then pushed it forward, knocking the plain white ball into the striped twelve ball, which rolled closer to the corner pocket.
“So far, it feels pretty damn good,” I replied with a nod. After spending two full days working with the other guys in the studio, I no longer felt like I didn’t belong. The left-out feeling I’d had on our first day in London had faded as the five of us bonded over good food and good music. Gradually, I’d begun to find my place in the group again. “Thanks for talking me into coming back.”
Brian nodded. “No problem.” He circled the table, his eyes narrowing as he studied the play field. Finally, he leaned down to line up his shot. I tried not to feel frustrated as I watched him sink the five ball into one of the side pockets. He made it look effortless.
“Nice shot, cuz.”
“Thanks.” A smile flickered briefly across Brian’s lips.
“So how are you feelin’ about everything?” I asked him.
“I guess I’m feelin’ okay so far,” he said, but I could hear the uncertainty in his tone.
“Just okay?”
He shrugged and picked up the block of billiard chalk. “It’s always hard being away from my family. You know what a homebody I am. I guess I’m just homesick.”
I frowned. “I miss Mason, too, but it’s only been a few days. You’ve been away from Leighanne and Baylee for a lot longer before. Are you sure that’s all it is?”
Brian sighed. “No. It’s the damn dysphonia, too,” he admitted, shaking his head as he chalked up his cue. “It didn’t seem as bad when we were on tour and had the crowd noises to disguise it, but now that it’s just me singing to a silent room, it’s so much more obvious. I’ve seen the looks Nick and Howie give each other when I get up in front of everyone to sing something, and I know what they must be thinking: that I sound like crap. No one will say it to my face, but I’m sure they’ve been talking about it behind my back ever since I told them yesterday at breakfast.”
“You’re being paranoid,” I tried to reassure him. “If they’ve talked about you, it’s only because they’re concerned.”
“I can’t blame them,” he continued as if I hadn’t even spoken. “I hate the way I sound, too.” He set the chalk down with a sigh and took a step back from the table. “My whole life, people told me I had the voice of an angel, a God-given talent. I never imagined God would take that gift back.”
“You can’t blame God for this either, Brian,” I told him gently.
“No, I know. He’s just testing me, trying to teach me not to take anything for granted. I get that. It just sucks to suddenly struggle at something that used to be so easy for me, you know?”
I put my pool cue carefully between my legs as I rolled around the table, trying to get into the right position to take my next shot. “Believe me – I know,” I said, nodding. “But I’ve found new ways to do a lot of things I never thought I would be able to do again – like play pool, for example.” I paused to set up my cue. Drawing it back, I pushed it forward with as much force as I could muster, sending the cue ball rolling across the table. It bumped into the fourteen ball, ricocheted off the far rail, and came back to hit the twelve ball, knocking it the rest of the way into the corner pocket.
“Hey!” Brian cried, his face splitting into a wide grin. “There you go! That was a great shot!”
I felt my own face flush with pride. “See?” I said, smiling back. “If we can figure out ways to work around my disability, we can do the same with your voice. Maybe you won’t be the lead singer on this album, but you can still contribute to the group in other ways. You sounded good harmonizing with AJ on that song y’all wrote today.”
“Thanks, Kev.” Brian’s grin turned sheepish. “I’m sure my problems seem like small potatoes compared to what you’ve gone through, but I appreciate you letting me vent.”
“They’re not small potatoes,” I said, shaking my head. “This condition could affect your career, your livelihood. You have every right to be worried and frustrated. I was. I never thought I’d work as an entertainer again after my injury. But here I am, back in the group and busy recording a new album. Life can throw you curveballs sometimes, but it also has a way of working out.”
He nodded. “That’s true. Everything happens for a reason.”
As much as I’d come to resent that expression, I couldn’t argue with him. My life hadn’t turned out at all the way I’d envisioned it, but for the first time since my accident, I felt content with where it had taken me. It would have been easy to blame God for all that I had lost, but when I rolled myself back to my room after Brian finished beating me at pool, I found myself thanking Him for what I’d gained instead. I had been given a second chance, both at life and my music career. I had good friends, an amazing girlfriend, and a supportive family that was closer than ever.
It was almost midnight by that point, and I was beyond exhausted, but I still took time to call the people I cared about before I turned in for the night. I kept my conversations with my mom, Mason, and Natalie short and listened more than talked as Dawn helped me stretch before bed, telling me all the gory details she’d learned during her ghost tour. By the time she turned off the lights and left me alone in the dark, I had already started to drift off to sleep.
***