Oreos for Breakfast: Nick BSB Fiction

Oreos for Breakfast - Chapter 14
By The Paperbag Princess and The Pumpkin Coach

Corresponding KTBPA Message Board Posts (Fictional!)

"What were you up to last night?" I tried to keep my tone light when what I really wanted to do was grill him about where he was when he'd said he'd call me back. Maybe he really was just out with Vinnie and not answering his phone. That's plausible, right? They were in the bar playing pool. Certainly not picking up cute groupies and comparing me to Willa. Right?

"What do you mean? We had a show, got dinner with Vinnie before he left… and I came back to the room."

I sensed hesitancy in his voice. What wasn't he telling me? Was he really not alone? Oh, god, no.

"Vinnie left early?"

"Yeah, he's got something to do today. I dunno. He kinda wanders in and out when I'm on tour."

"And you're okay with that?" What did Vinnie do? It's not like he had to have a proper job, what with mooching off of Nick all the time.

I could hear the shrug in his voice, "Sure."

He was such a fuckin' wimp some times. Could he not see that Vinnie was using him? Of course not! He never saw it in Willa either.

"So you just stayed in the room?" I tried to lead him into it. Come on Nick, don't lie to me. Not now.

"Yeah."

Okay, Willa freaked me out yesterday, I'll admit that. When he didn't answer his phone all night, I occupied myself by surfing around the boards. My fans and his fans were all up in arms about the TRL incident, speculating on what it all meant and why AJ called in and not Nick. I ended the evening on one of the anti-Willa sites. The stories just made me crazy. I wanted to ask him about every one of them, figure out why he'd stayed with her for so long, and how he could have loved her and now be in love with me.

Good thing he didn't answer his phone or we might not be talking now. I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answers to all those questions. What does a 21 year old boy know about love? He thought melodrama was love with Willa, maybe with me it was just about sex.

Yeah, but it was good sex. When we were in the same fuckin' room. Damn. I looked over at the date book, which was open on the end table. There was a great big red circle around Sunday. Our first joint day off in a week, and we got to spend the long Labor Day weekend together.

We'd planned it all out the other day. A big suite at the Royalton and maybe we'd go out and do something normal like shopping or see a play. Not enough time to go home, really, and I sort of wanted him all to myself. Just lock ourselves away. God, that sounded like heaven. We needed time to just be Nick and Rachel. I missed that already.

"Whatcha doin', baby?" I teased him, leaning back against the headboard as I listened to him shuffling around in his room.

I knew exactly what he was doing, kicking his clothes around on the floor into a pile so he could sweep them all into his suitcase. I smiled when he laughed.

"Nick Carter school of packing, Rache. You're not here to scold me."

"Well, close your eyes and concentrate really hard… and I bet you can feel me in the room with you."

He was quiet for a moment, "Nah… sorry. No Rachel vibe, guess I'll just carry on stuffing my ugly ass shirts into the suitcase."

I frowned at my reflection in the mirror. He was supposed to respond to that flirt. That was so an invitation to phone sex. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was nearly eleven, he had to get on the road soon, didn't he?

"Time to leave?"

"Yeah. Bus leaves soon. Did I tell you I get to meet some of Frank's family in Houston?"

"No way!" I loved Frank, wonder what his family was like? I pictured a whole group of little Franks: bodybuilding, stoic Texans who called every woman ma'am and put their lives on the line for punkass boys who lie to their girlfriends.

"You never answered my question, Nick."

I heard him attempting to get his suitcase closed, "What was that, baby?"

"Last night. I called you like 5 times and kept getting voicemail." That never happened.

Well, we'd only been apart a few days, even if it felt like longer. Still, we talked every night after our shows. I had to say good night to him and hear his sweet voice tell me he loved me or I couldn't fall asleep.

I hadn't slept well last night. Tossing and turning, wondering where he was and why he wasn't answering his phone. When I did fall asleep, images of him out partying with Vinnie and talking to cute young girls who weren't halfway across the country with their own lives kept drifting into my head.

"Oh… Mandy called back. I had to talk to her."

He said it so fast that I almost didn't understand him.

"Willa?" I couldn't hide the incredulous tone in my voice. I refused to call her Mandy. I hated that he did it. It made her sound like a girlfriend, not the psycho-whore she was.

"Yeah. She was upset about the whole TRL thing. She called to apologize, and we got to talking…"

His voice trailed off, and I bit my lower lip as I waited for him to continue. But he didn't. We were silent for moment.

"Go on… what did you talk about?"

"I dunno…" I could just see him, sitting on the couch in his hotel suite and running his fingers through his hair as he considered what the correct answer was to my question. The correct answer was the truth, but he didn't know that. I was sure of that.

"You talked for two hours about nothing?"

"We do," he answered defensively.

"Yes. We do. We talk for hours upon hours about nothing. You're right." Don't you even fucking compare me to her, you asshole. I set my jaw and stared at the wall, afraid to even blink for fear I'd start screaming at him.

I heard him take a breath and then he spoke, his voice low, "Rache, she's sorry, okay? She doesn't want this to turn into a whole war, and I don't either. Carson so set her up."

"That stunt yesterday was Carson's fault?" I shot back, my voice rising an octave.

"Well, she should have been on earlier in the show. But she wasn't. They knew you'd be at three… putting her there made her talk about us."

"Made her? Made her?! Do you hear yourself? No one fuckin' made her say anything. She came on TRL with the express purpose of dissing you and starting something."

He laughed quietly, "You sound paranoid, Rache."

"You're calling me paranoid? Mr. Willa-fuckin'-Ford's doormat for three years is calling me paranoid? Fuck, Nick. She picked that single so everyone would ask her about the back story!"

I couldn't even continue, I felt my ears burning as they blood rushed to my head. He'd spent two hours talking to Willa, and she'd convinced him that she was the innocent victim in all of this?

"I'm not a doormat."

How the hell could she call me that? I was the one who broke up with Mandy. I threw her out and didn't look back. Well, almost never, anyway. I stared at my reflection on the dark TV screen. What the fuck am I doing? I should have just told her I was out with Vinnie. Anything but talking to Mandy. I knew she wouldn't understand. It was all so clear cut to her.

"Oh, you are fuckin' too much! All she has to do is call you and whine that she's been 'taken advantage of,' and you change your fuckin' tune. Nick, she's playing you. Go ask AJ, he'll tell you. Ask any of them!"

"AJ has always hated Mandy," I sighed. I heard something crash in her room. "Rache, what was that?"

"Nothing," she said defensively.

"Uh-huh. Sounded like an ice bucket hitting the wall. Look, buttercup, I'm sorry. But she had a point. I don't think she went on TRL to pick a fight with you, and she's sorry. She told me she really likes your band. Said she can't stop listening to the single."

I cringed as I heard another crash in Rachel's room. She was getting too good at the rock star tantrum thing, I think.

"Fuck her! I don't want her as my fan, Nick. I want her out of our fuckin' lives. And I certainly don't want her talking to you at 2 a.m. when I need to hear your voice."

What did she say? Rachel didn't need anything from me. How many times did I call her after a show and get her voicemail? She had her band and friends in almost every city. Shit. She had more friends than I could count, most of them guys. Guys she'd probably fucked at one time or another. I was the one that needed her, not the other way around.

"Right," I replied sarcastically. "You don't need anything, Rache. How many times do I get your voicemail after a show? All the fuckin' time. Sorry, this once I was talking to someone else."

I winced as she spoke, her voice low, and I could tell I'd hurt her, "Not just someone else. Mandy. Mandy who makes you crazy and knows how to push all your buttons."

She never called her Mandy. It threw me. We were quiet and I was about to apologize when Frank knocked on my door and then opened it, not waiting for me to answer.

"Five, little man. Are you packed?" His voice filled the room, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Yes, I'm packed. I'll be there in a sec."

Frank took my suitcase and pulled the door closed again.

"Rache…" I started. "I gotta get on the bus. We'll talk tonight. Call you from the hotel?"

"Sure. I'll be here."

"I love you, baby."

I heard her sigh, and this time I could feel her in the room with me. What was I doing picking a fight with her? Especially when I wouldn't be able to see her in person to make up?

"Uh-huh… me too," she sighed unconvincingly. And the line went dead.

I stuck the phone in my pocket, looking around the room for anything I might have forgotten, trying to breathe.

It was fine. She loved me. I'd call her later, and we'd talk about Mandy, it was fine.

Fine fine fine fine fine, I sang to myself. That was from one of her songs.

Boys like you
Don't cost a dime
You could say it's
Fine fine fine fine fine
But you know
Just as well as I
That's a lie lie lie lie

No, It wasn't like that.

Willa. Fucking goddamn bitch Willa goddamn fucking Ford. Amanda fucking Willaford. "Mandy," said in Nick's sweet voice. He said her name like he cared about her. Fuck him. I fell back on the bed and covered my head with a pillow, screaming as loud as I could. God, I hated her. I knew I was being stupid. He didn't love her anymore. Hell, he couldn't even stand to look at her when James and I forced him to watch the video on MTV so we could make fun of her writhing around half-naked singing through her vocorder. Talentless hack.

I took a deep breath and threw the pillow onto the floor. I hated being this jealous. I could just hear her sex-kitten voice as she whined to Nick that Carson had 'used her' and she was the innocent victim. He was fuckin' putty in her hands, wasn't he?

I tossed the ice bucket at the door that joined my room to James' just as he opened it, and he ducked. "Sorry," I snarled, lobbing a glass at the wall. It hit the side of the door and shattered. We both looked at it for a moment, stunned.

"I'm going out on a limb and saying that Nick's phone is still busy?"

"Worse. He was talking to her last night! It's not her fault, Carson set her up, oh poor fucking little Mandy." I sneered her name, tossing another glass at the wall.

"Um, Rachel, could we quit with the rock star destruction of hotel property?"

"NO!" I screamed, finding my shoes. Combat boots, oh, yes, excellent noise as they hit the wall. James sighed and sat on my bed, handing me the ashtray. "Why is he such a goddamn fucking wimp? She fucking dissed me on national fucking TV, he's supposed to be in love with me! AJ stuck up for me. Brian stuck up for me!"

The ashtray just bounced off the wall, not fucking good enough.

"Could my goddamn fucking boyfriend stand up to her? NO!" James leaned over, picking up the empty bottle of wine we'd had when we were keyed up last night after getting in and surfed around, laughing at the anti-Willa sites. He checked to make sure it was empty and then handed it to me.

"Goddamn fucking child." I hurled the wine bottle at the wall, but it didn't break. "She has him so fucking pussy whipped, its all oh, poor Willa. He's gonna send her a present, you mark my words. Because now she's made this his fault."

James handed me the candle on the bedside table, the lavender one that Nick loved. It dented as it hit the wall, that made me feel better. "How can he be so fucking pussy whipped if they're not fucking? Is the memory of the sex that fucking good? I am just goddamn fucking transitional girl again?"

My breath caught in my throat, and I turned to look at James. What was it with me and men without backbones? I mean, how long did Damon let Justine play him? I was there when it finally ended, I picked up the pieces of his shattered fuckin' life and what'd I get? Him cheating on me and running off with his new 'family.'

Was that it? Was I Nick's rebound from Willa?

I dropped onto the bed beside James, and he put his arm around my shoulders. I could feel myself shaking, I leaned my head against his chest, and we were silent for a long time. Thank god for James, he knew me better than anyone in my life. He would just let me sit here and sulk all night if I wanted to, or hand me things to throw if that was going to make me feel better.

Finally I sighed and looked up at him, "I'm the rebound, aren't I?"

"What?"

"Nick. With Willa. I'm his rebound. Just like with Damon and Justine. I'm fuckin' transitional girl again." There. I said it. But it didn't make me feel any better. I looked down at my hand, my fingers tracing the flowers on the god-awful bedspread, "Who the hell thinks that orange and pink go together? I mean, what coked up designer decided that this room worked?"

James bent down so that his head was level with mine. He crooked his finger under my chin and lifted my face so I was looking at him, "Don't change the subject, dear. He's an idiot. I mean, pretty as hell, but… damn. Not a full deck happening up there, is there?"

I pouted up at him, "No."

"You are so much more than transitional girl, Rache. Transitional girl was that other one."

I scowled at him. What other one?

"Taffy? Stephanie? The one he broke up while he was playing softball?"

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "Tasha? Tonya? Tiffani! With an 'I'!"

James giggled with me. "Her. The one he broke up with because he was too in love with you."

Sighing, I flopped back on the bed. "That was so long before we got together."

James leaned over me, wagging his finger. "Would you have gotten together with him if he hadn't broken up with her?"

"No!" I yelled. "Of course not."

He smirked at me. "Nicky was smart enough to know that much. Believe me. I see the way he looks at you, and the boy is smitten."

I had to smile, "Smitten? Why, James, you don't say?"

He rolled his eyes. "Stop. He is. It's the perfect word and you know it. He's so crushed out it's sickening."

"God, his melodrama is brushing off on me, isn't it?"

"You've been listening to the ballads again, haven't you?" he teased.

"Umm… maybe…"

"Girl, you can't do that! They're like poison. They fill your head with romantic notions!"

"I know we have been through so much pain… but I still neeeeeeed you in my life," I sang to him, holding the 'need' until my voice gave out.

"I'll never break your heart, I'll never make you cry. I'd rather die than live without you." James responding, trying hard not to laugh. But it was no use. We continued reciting sappy ballad lyrics to one another until we could both barely breathe from laughing so hard.

"Alright, dude! I'm coming." I rolled my eyes and pulled on my backpack. Frank took my second suitcase, and we ran the gauntlet to the bus. I wasn't in the mood to smile for the cameras and sign autographs. None of them knew what a lousy person I was. But Rachel did.

I threw my backpack down on the couch and closed the door to the back room. I didn't want to deal with anyone. I flipped on the CD player and fell on the couch. I rummaged through my bag for the package Frank had handed me this morning. It was a CD from Rachel. No note or even a track listing. She'd just kissed the label, her scarlet lipstick staining the paper. I smiled as I remembered tasting that lipstick when I kissed her.

I reached over and put the CD into the player, and a song I didn't know started. I closed my eyes and listened as the orchestral backing track swelled and an unfamiliar voice started to sing. The song was half over before I clued into the lyrics.

Do you believe that there's someone up above
And does he have a turntable directing acts of love
Why did I write this song on that one day
Why did you touch my hand and softly say
Stop asking questions that don't matter anyway
Just give us a kiss to celebrate here today
Something changed

She didn't say she loved me. No matter what, when we hung up the phone we'd say it. But she didn't. Why not? One phone conversation with Mandy and she didn't love me anymore? That couldn't be right.

Could it? No. It'd only been what, four days since we were together? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

I pulled my notebook out of my backpack. I'd taped our tour schedules on the inside flap. She had them committed to memory, but I had to have a cheat sheet.

Let's see… September 2nd. Sunday. New York. Was that enough time to go back to the Point House? We had plans to stay in New York, but I sorta wanted to go to her place. We were playing on Long Island, right? Damn. Rachel was the one who knew these things. Yeah, I think Nassau's on Long Island.

God, I loved it at her house. It was our special place now. The place where we'd finally figured out how to be more than friends. I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes, holding on to the shell on my necklace. I tried to feel the salt air on my face and remember the way she smelled that night we watched the sunset. The night she finally let me kiss her. We were normal there. No tours or bands or publicity machines making us crazy, just Rachel and Nick.

My phone rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket, hoping it was her.

Fuck, it's Mandy, again. What the hell is she doing with this number, anyway? Certainly I'd changed it since we'd broken up.

If I didn't answer it, she'd keep calling. But if I answered it, she'd trap me on the phone again for two hours, and what if Rachel calls?

I debated so long that it went into voicemail, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I waited a minute and then checked my messages, curious.

"Nicky, hi. Just thinking about you, hope you got enough sleep after our conversation last night." She laughed quietly. "That was nice, we need to do that more often. Not like either one of us has anyone to talk to, your girlfriend is too busy with her own life, and me, you know how it is, hard to have a relationship on the road." She was quiet for a moment. "You're on your way to Houston, right? Remember when we got the puppy there? How is she, I miss the dogs. Miss you too."

The message ended and I looked at the phone. That's how it started, every fucking time, that's how it started. She got all sweet and sappy, and I fell for it, every fucking time. Doormat! What a fucking doormat!

There was a knock at the door, and I jumped off the bed, expecting room service. There was room service on the cart, somewhere under the millions of flowers. James laughed behind me. "Oh, he was going to send presents to her, was he?"

Maybe he did. Maybe I'm only getting flowers because he felt guilty about that.

Still, they were terribly pretty. Orange roses, lavender, some shocking red things like the streaks in my hair. Orange roses for the shell I gave him that night we got together, lavender for the candles we liked… okay, he could be good sometimes.

The guy came in, maneuvering the cart around the maid that was cleaning up all the glass I'd broken. Five minutes later, James and I were alone, and they had huge fucking tips. I put the flowers on the dresser, pulling out the card.

Sorry sorry sorry sorry.
I should have told her to get lost.
I LOVE YOU.
--Nick

My phone rang and James laughed, picking it up. "I'm sure this is… it says it's Frank," he said, looking at caller ID. I moved over to him, glancing at the caller ID. Was something wrong? Maybe he was just calling to tell me Nick was pouting. I answered it, my heart leaping into my throat, "Hello?"

"It's me." I breathed a sigh of relief, hearing Nick's voice. Brief moment of panic. One bad phone call could fuck you up for life.

"Why are you calling from Frank's phone?"

"I, uh, sorta broke mine."

"What did you do?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

"I threw it at the wall, and it actually broke. That doesn't usually happen, I throw like a girl."

I had to giggle. "Bunny, why did you throw your phone at the wall?"

"Because Mandy called, and I didn't want to talk to her again. I'm gonna get a new phone and new number as soon as I can." I fell onto the bed, so relieved I could cry. James took one look at me and laughed, picking up his lunch and leaving me alone. "Who was that?" Nick asked.

"James. You're changing your number?"

"Yeah." His voice got quiet, a little nervous and scared. "I'm really sorry, Rache. I should have told her to fuck off last night."

"You should have," I agreed.

She sounded mad still. Did she get the flowers? Was this not enough? I couldn't breathe, I didn't want Rachel mad at me. Fucking Mandy!

"I'm a doormat, you're right. But she can't call me now, and I won't call her." I wouldn't. Not ever again if Rachel would forgive me for last night.

"God forbid you tell her not to call you."

"I can't."

"You have to hide from her?"

I was quiet for a moment, trying to think how to answer her. I could tell Rachel that I told Mandy off. She'd never know. "Alright, I'll call her. I'll tell her off."

"You will not." Damnit, Rachel always saw through me. I knew Mandy was going to ruin this, she ruins everything. "You don't have to," she said softly, and I just blinked at the phone at the change in her tone. "But tell me the truth. Don't try to think of the right answer, don't tell me what you think I want to hear."

"I can't call her again," I admitted. "She knows me too well."

"Alright then. She'll get you all twisted up in knots, will she? Make everything your fault again?" I nodded at the phone. "Did you send her a present to make up for it?"

"No!" I protested.

"But you thought about it," Rachel said, half-teasing.

Are we teasing? Can I not admit all my deepest darkest secrets? "Yeah," I said. "But you got the present instead."

She laughed, and I took a deep breath for the first time in hours. "They're really pretty. I love how you get me flowers that mean something."

All Mandy ever wanted was something expensive.

"But I'm even happier that you're changing your number," Rachel went on. "Thank you. I'm sorry I'm such a jealous girlfriend about her. She pushes all your buttons, she pushes mine, too."

Rachel? Jealous? Is that what this is? "I guess that's why we're perfect together," I joked. "United in our hatred of Willa."

"Can we start a website?"

I laughed. "We should. Start all sorts of good rumors."

"What, the truth isn't scandalous enough?"

"The truth is stranger than fiction, right?"

She laughed, and we were quiet for a moment. "I love you, Nick. Every night when I get off stage, the only person I want to talk to is you." I held the phone closer, not able to say anything. The CD she made me was playing softly in the background, making me smile, Rachel's voice in one ear and her secret messages in the other. "Especially last night. All the fans outside the hotel wanted to know about Willa and TRL. I wanted to shut my door to everyone and see how it went with your band after we hung up."

"I'm sorry." My voice cracked, and I had to stop. What had I been thinking? Why did I let Mandy keep me on the phone for two hours? "It was one a.m., when the phone rang, I thought it had to be you."

"James was right!" I could almost hear her smile.

"About what?" Of course she told James everything.

"That's what he said, when he was trying to stop me from breaking things."

"Breaking things?" Over me?

"Two glasses, and I dented a candle. Made some marks on the wall, but overall, not terribly rock and roll."

"You're getting too good at the rock star tantrum thing, aren't you?" I heard her sigh in my ear, and I could feel her breath on my neck as she answered me. We were okay, and I didn't want to ever hang up this phone.

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