Oreos
for Breakfast: Chapter Two
By The Paperbag Princess and The
Pumpkin Coach
Page 1 | Page 2 | Page 3 | Page 4 | Page 5
Now, the last time I got a call from a blocked number, it was Nick.
I did get calls like that every once in a while, but I couldn't suppress the little thrill I got at seeing it on my screen. He'd called me three times since our rambling call two days ago, and left funny voicemails about what he was looking at outside the window of his bus, and the art in his hotel room.
It was one in the morning. Would he be calling me this late?
I'd never find out if I didn't pick up the phone, would I? "Hello?"
"Rache! Hi!" He sounded completely surprised that I'd answered the phone. "I thought you'd still be onstage."
I felt like bouncing on the bed. I barely knew him, I should not be this happy to hear his voice. I felt like I was 16. "Avoiding me?" I teased.
"No, I was just bored, actually."
"Thought you'd leave me another cute little message on my voicemail about the color of your hotel walls?"
I could feel his blush through the phone. "Sorry…"
"What? It was cute. I don't mind."
She didn't mind? Really? I felt like I was being pushy, but I couldn't help myself. I'd liked talking to her, I wanted to do it again. "Well, then, I have no brown in my room. I looked, just for you. All the furniture is white, and the walls are green."
She giggled. "My room sucks. I am overwhelmed by beige. Let me live vicariously, how great is your hotel?"
"It sucks," I told her emphatically. "No security, girls everywhere. Frank's going crazy."
"Don't all the good hotels have great security?"
"We're in Albany, Rache. There's one good hotel, and its open to the masses."
"You know you sound like a snob, right?" She teased.
"It's not… it's not that I mind talking to the fans. I like the fans. But after a show, I want to come back and have some dinner and relax, and instead I went down to the hotel bar and it was fucking mob scene. And I couldn't even get dinner." I was still annoyed about that. AJ and Howie had gone out, but I was too tired to leave the hotel. I just wanted some dinner, was that such a bizarre request?
"You sound pissed off, sweetie."
She just called me 'sweetie.' I wasn't pissed about anything anymore. "Sorta. Sometimes we end up trapped in hotel rooms."
"Really? Yeah, I guess I can see that…" She mused. "Are you there long? You go to New York soon, it'll be better there."
"Hey! I meant to tell you, we don't have a hotel in New York."
Her voice sounded puzzled, I felt the same way. "You don't? The Today show does tape in New York, doesn't it?"
"We're leaving after the show tomorrow and driving straight down, then we leave for Philly after it tapes."
"It's a fucking glamorous life you lead, Nick. Does this mean I don't get my CD?" Is that disappointment I hear in her voice? Please let it be. She just wants her CD, she doesn't want to see me.
"Frank says we can do breakfast after the show."
I loved how Frank had to give him permission. "Alright, where?" I asked.
"Um…"
This boy never planned a thing in his life, did he? "Royal Canadian Pancake House. 3rd Avenue and 17th Street." It was one of my favorite places in the city, if he didn't like it, we could no longer… do whatever we were doing. I should not admit that I called him three times last night, hanging up when I got voicemail. Hard to get made all the boys nuts, right?
"Alright. I'll tell Frank. Is ten OK? We should be done by then."
"Ten is fine. I'm staying right around the corner. I've got a meeting at 2, when do you have to leave?"
"Whenever… 2, I guess." He sounded decidedly disappointed, and I smiled to myself. "What's your meeting?"
"Record company." I didn't want to talk about it. I half thought they were going to drop us. Last week it had seemed hopeful, but now we'd all convinced ourselves it was certain doom.
"You can't get out of that, then."
Thank god. If I had a free day and he was available, god knows where we'd end up. "Nope, sorry. Breakfast, though. Then we can do something… record shopping?"
"Cool!" That cheered him up.
We were quiet for a second. Damnit, I called her for a reason, and I got the reason out of the way. "So why aren't you onstage?"
She spoke at the same time. "Your favorite group is on MTV." Was she trying to keep me on the phone?
I started flicking through the channels, looking for MTV. The baseball game I had on was boring anyway. "You cannot mean N fucking Sync."
She giggled. "JC fucking Chasez is so freaking hot."
"Do you always call him that? JC fucking Chasez?"
She laughed outright, not just that cute little giggle. "Yeah, I do. Because 'fucking' should be that boy's middle name, he is so hot."
I pouted at myself in the mirror. Stupid N fucking Sync. We were better than them. I was definitely cuter than JC fucking Chasez. "Maybe, but he's a jerk."
"I somehow think you say that about all of N Sync," she teased.
"Well…" I would, actually. "They are."
"I hear they fly in their show. Why don't you guys fly? That's totally cool."
"We used to fly! It was sorta dumb, though, and it was always Nick target practice."
I made her laugh again, I liked doing that. "Poor bunny." Bunny? I'd been called many things, but never 'bunny'. "What did those mean old fans throw at you?"
"Stuff. Signs, stuffed animals, panties, silly string… we get a lot of stuff thrown onstage. Or at my crotch, depending."
I loved her giggle, every time I heard it, it made me smile. "Did they have good aim? Did they ever injure you?"
"Good aim, no injuries." Nah, injuries were mostly self-inflicted in my life.
"Because that would be horrible, injuring poor Nick Carter. Speaking of stuff on stage, I still have that bear you gave me in Pittsburgh."
"Do you?" Sleep with it? I managed not to add that last bit.
"I somehow imagine the fan that tossed it at you would be upset to know you gave it to someone else. Darien got me a Backstreet button, I put it on the bear's ear."
"Did you name the bear?"
"Thor."
"You didn't!" From her hysterical giggling, I knew she named it that for a reason. "That's just sick, Rache! Naming a poor innocent bear that!"
I couldn't stop laughing. Last night Bayley and I had surfed around the internet for Backstreet info, and found the message boards. On one of them, they'd given names to all of the Boys' private parts. Nick's was 'Thor,' and from the horrified tone in his voice, he knew it. "So you read the boards, then?"
"Sometimes. We pay people to keep track of them and every once in a while we get yelled at. What did you find?"
He sounded very suspicious, and I had to laugh again. "Don't worry, sweetie. I got bored, and didn't have much time. We did three shows last night. I found a lot of hot pictures of you and not much else before I had to go."
"Three shows?" What, he didn't want to know which hot pictures I found? My hard drive was currently cluttered with them. He looked good in glasses, I had to wonder if they were a fashion accessory or he actually needed them. He wore them sporadically; I was going with fashion accessory. He probably thought they made him look smart.
"We opened for Rufus at 8, then did a set at one club at 10, and another at 12:30. Philly likes us."
"Philly has good taste." I grinned stupidly at the phone. He made me do that a lot. "So why aren't you playing right now?"
I sighed. We should be. "Opened for Rufus, that was hours ago. Darien's off with the regional girlfriend… "
He interrupted me. "Howie's not the only pop star with regional girlfriends?"
I had to laugh again. "Howie has regional girlfriends?"
"Howie is amazing. I don't know how he keeps them all straight."
"Howie? I don't get the appeal of Howie," I admitted. "Kevin, massive hottie. AJ, funny, hot in that dangerous sort of way. Even Brian I get, he's a sweetheart. But Howie? Even his name doesn't fit. Who ever heard of a pop star named Howard?"
I had him giggling again, I could not stand how cute he was. "Hey, what about me?"
I gave him my best duh voice, rolling my eyes at the phone. "You're hot. You are so the favorite."
"Yeah yeah yeah…that's what they tell me." I could practically feel him blushing.
"What, you don't believe your own press? On the message boards, it's 40 million threads about you, and maybe a handful for the other guys. I almost started some last night, I felt sorry for them."
"Room service!" He suddenly said, sounding excited. "Be right back." He might have just been excited because it forced me to drop the subject that he was the favorite.
I could hear all sorts of noise in the background, and looked around for my water, wishing we had room service. Water, I needed to re-hydrate after all the alcohol Bayley and I had last night. I did have some junk food, didn't I? He picked up the phone again. "Hey, you still there?"
"Where else am I gonna go? It's a happening Saturday night in Wilmington."
"We're rock stars, shouldn't we be out partying?" He asked, and I could hear him moving plates around.
"One would think!" I answered, finding my stash of junk food. "Instead I've got some Twizzlers here at the Holiday Inn. What are you having for dinner? Is it terribly exciting?"
"It's a burger."
"Oh, c'mon!" I yelled. "You're at the fricking Four Seasons! It's on the expense account. Get something interesting!"
He laughed. "I like burgers. At one in the morning, I don't like to think about my food that hard."
"Alright, good point."
"Is it OK if I eat while we're on the phone? I didn't really expect to get you, I was just gonna leave a message…" Aw, how polite.
"Whatever. I could let you go, if you want to eat."
"No. No, its fine, if you don't mind."
"I don't care." I gave him an out, and he still wants to stay on the phone. He likes me. Is it terribly obvious that I like him back?
"So three shows last night, aren't you exhausted?" He asked, chewing.
I didn't even care if he was chewing in my ear, I must be far gone. "Yeah, sorta." I got dizzy just thinking about it. "Then my friend and I were… up late." Giggling about you and downloading pictures after drinking way too much tequila… not gonna add that part. "After a while, it makes more sense to just stay up."
The friend must be a guy, the way she hesitated over what they did last night. Damnit. My heart twisted a little to think that she was with someone else, how stupid. I barely knew this woman.
I knew that she liked JC fucking Chasez and hated brown in her hotel rooms. She had two older brothers and her band got on her nerves. And she'd been downloading pictures of me before she went off with her boyfriend last night, which had to be good for something.
"Bayley dropped me off at the hotel at ten and we drove out here." Bayley? What kind of name was that? Last name, sounded like.
Better not to ask, I'll sound stupid. Like when I asked her who she was hugging at the Pittsburgh show, she looked a little freaked out. If she's got a boyfriend, I don't need to know. She's on the phone with me now, nothing else should really matter. After all, didn't I technically have a girlfriend? Shit, Tiffani called earlier didn't she? I was so gonna get yelled at tomorrow.
"Have you slept at all? Should I let you go?" Good one, Carter, this is the second time in three minutes you've tried to get off the phone with her.
"I slept on the drive, and fell asleep after the show. I'd just woken up when you called, actually."
"Sorry…" I poked at my French fries. If she hung up with me, then what would I do? I'd lie here and fantasize about her the way I'd been doing every night since I met her.
"Don't be. I was totally bored, couldn't sleep any more. James and Jeremy are probably asleep, and I know Darien's with his girl, I don't have anyone to bug."
James is probably asleep? He's not in her room? He was with her last time we talked.
"If James and I were sharing, I'd wake him up and make him watch videos with me. But since Darien's not here, I pulled girl privileges and got the single. Seemed like a good idea at the time."
Do they not usually share? Are they just friends? I wanted to ask so badly.
"You guys never share rooms, do you?" She asked me.
"Not anymore. Not for a while, at least."
"Who did you share with?"
"Usually my dad or uncle or mom or whoever was being my guardian. Or Brian, mostly." I sorta missed sharing a room, it was nice to always have someone to talk to. I didn't like to be alone much.
"Your guardian?" She asked incredulously.
"I'm only 21, Rache. We've been over this. Until I was 18, someone had to be on the road with me."
"Yeah, I wouldn't leave my blond hottie son alone with Lou Perlman, either." I nearly choked on the drink of iced tea I'd just taken. "The guy makes me itch. I can't believe your mom ever trusted her cute little boy with him."
He sputtered at me and I giggled to myself. "Seriously, dude, he has got pedophile written all over him. I'm sure he took one look at your cute little 13 year old ass and said 'uh-huh, he's in the band'."
He coughed. Did I make him choke on something? "Actually, we started the band without him - me and AJ and Howie. Lou signed us and found Kevin and Brian."
"Yeah, and how cute were AJ and Howie at that age?"
He laughed. "Pretty cute, I guess. Lou was sorta creepy, but I just got used to him."
"The man creeps me out. I can see why you got rid of him."
"Yeah, well…" his voice trailed off, and I could hear ice clinking in his glass as he took a drink.
"Is Lou not a topic for discussion?" I questioned.
"No… yes," he stumbled. "Don't we have better things to talk about? You can find out about Lou on-line, I'm sure."
"And I'm supposed to believe everything I read?" I didn't even know where to start with him. You put 'Backstreet Boys' into any search engine and you got about 90 million sites.
He chuckled. "You do the research, then call me again and I'll let you know what's true and what's not."
"That is so not a fair deal, dude! Do you have any idea how many sites there are about you guys?"
"I prefer not to think about it, actually."
"Ignorance is bliss?"
He laughed. "Something like that. C'mon, Rache, my life is not that interesting. We must have better things to talk about."
I snorted. "Oh, please! You're a fucking Backstreet Boy, you have an amazingly interesting life!"
"It's Saturday night, and what am I doing?" He drawled, making me giggle. "Yeah, the same thing you are."
"At least you're doing it in a better hotel," I protested. "I don't even have room service at my hotel."
"I would die without 24-hour room service. When I'm home, I miss room service."
"Do you steal the little ketchup bottles? I love the cute little ketchup bottles."
He laughed. "I am beyond cute little ketchup bottles, Rache. I get the crystal bowl with a silver spoon for the ketchup."
"Oh, shut up! Why do you torture me so? I must ditch my integrity and join a girl group. I want the fancy ketchup! I bet even Dream gets the fancy ketchup!"
"And then you too can be trapped in your hotel room on a Saturday night. It's a glamorous fucking life, Rache."
I laughed. "Alright. I give. I could leave my hotel if I wanted to and if there was anything to fucking do in Wilmington. I really should be sleeping, I suppose."
"Do you want to go?" He worried, and I had to smile. He didn't want me to hang up; I could hear that in his voice.
"I'm on tour time. My sleep schedule is completely fucked up. Do you get like that?"
"Totally. I'm still usually in bed by 3 or so, that's just when you're finishing up, isn't it?"
"If we're doing a late gig, yeah. Everyplace closes by two, then we have to load the van, blah blah blah…"
"You load the van? You don't have roadies?" I swear to god, I kept blowing his mind.
"No roadies." Didn't we go over this the other day? "No manager, road or otherwise. Me and my boys, we do it all. Is it any wonder that they're driving me fucking insane?"
"The fellas drive me insane, and we don't spend half the time together that you do."
There he went with that 'fellas' again. I had to keep myself from screeching, he was so fuckin' adorable. "So I should be doubly insane, right?"
He laughed. "Yeah. I remember when we were together all the time, though."
"When you were 12!" I teased, making him sigh.
"13 when the band started, what am I gonna have to do to make you remember that?"
Nothing. I knew that. I knew he was born January 28, 1980, he had blue eyes and blond hair, and he was the favorite Backstreet Boy. I knew he didn't like it when I teased him about Thor and his ex-girlfriend. I knew he did like it when I teased him about being the cute one.
I also knew I'd stay on this phone forever if he let me. "I know, I was just teasing. Know who else I don't have with me? A bodyguard. Is that weird, always having a bodyguard with you?"
Frank? She wants to talk about Frank? Why can't we skip past all this to phone sex… flirting at least? "He's not with me now."
"He's in the room next to you, isn't he?"
"Yeah." Of course. That's what Frank did.
"How long have you had bodyguards?"
I had to think about that one. "Since we got big in Europe. So '95-ish."
"Have you always had Frank?"
"No, Frank's been with us since Millennium."
"How did he get to be your personal bodyguard? Do you draw straws or something?"
I laughed. "No. Um… honestly, Rache, I don't remember. I really don't. He's just Frank."
"I like Frank. You drive him insane, you know that, right?"
"He's told me that once or twice, yeah."
She laughed. What was this, 20 questions? I wracked my brain, telling her every story I could about Frank, just to hear her laugh. She told me tour stories of her own and it was after 3 when I heard her yawn. "Tired, Rache?"
"No, I…" she laughed quietly to herself. "Yeah. I'm half-asleep here."
"Am I that boring?" I teased, making her giggle.
"Actually, I really like talking to you," she admitted sleepily.
Thank god she wasn't in front of me to see the stupid grin on my face. "I like talking to you, too. We get to do it in person in a couple of days."
"Cool…" she breathed, barely finishing the word. I'd put her sleep, hadn't I? "Alright, Nicky, I gotta sleep. Good night."
"Night, Rache."
She hung up the phone and checked my display before turning it off. Two hours, 14 minutes. That was going to cost me a fortune. I'd called her, hadn't I?
Worth every penny.
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