chapter 19 - page 7

Oreos for Breakfast - Chapter 19

By
The Paperbag Princess & The Pumpkin Coach

"Hello?" Damn, he sounded cranky.

"Hey, bunny," I tried. Did he still hate me for missing our date yesterday? Hadn't he said that was okay? "How are you doing?"

"Crappy."

He didn't elaborate, and I let the silence hang for a second. "What's wrong?"

"Everything. Did you not get my emails? I stopped trying to fucking call. Thought maybe you might at least read an email or two."

Shit. What'd I done to piss him off now? "Um, no. I didn't get a chance to hook up the laptop." Hell, I wasn't entirely sure where it was. Last time I saw it was in Chicago. No, I took it to Canada, but I never unpacked it. Since then, I hadn't had a moment to think, let alone check email.

"Of course not," he muttered. "You never listen to my voicemails either."

Shit. I hated it when he got in this mood, and it seemed like he'd been in this mood a lot this week. "I listened to one, and you sounded upset, so I called you back. Here I am."

"What are you doing?" he asked quickly.

"I'm at the hotel. We're leaving for soundcheck soon."

"So I've got you for what? Ten minutes?"

"About that," I had to admit, and he snorted.

"Typical."

Silence for a minute. I was almost glad when there was a knock at the door. "Five minutes, Rache," Jeremy told me, and I grabbed his hand before he could duck away.

"You okay?" I asked quietly, and he just smiled at me. That smile could transform his face, even when he was teary and exhausted.

"The show must go on, right? Besides, I want to show him how much more I can rock than him."

I grinned and let him go. Yeah, it would be a good show tonight. Lola had put Bill on the list. He'd probably bring a million friends and talk about how Jeremy got all his musical talent from him. But this was Jeremy's ultimate revenge, being more successful at music than his dad had ever dreamed.

"Jeremy?" Nick snarled, and I just sighed.

"Please, Nick, can we not do this now? It's been a fucking day. His dad showed up, and he has all these issues. It's just been a long day. And fucking drive time radio. I had obnoxious DJs all over me."

"God forbid it should be me all over you."

"What?" What the hell was wrong with him?

"It's just fucking obvious that you'd rather be flirting with DJs than seeing me."

"Oh, come on!" Now he was just getting stupid.

"No, it's fine. You have to make money, I understand."

"That's not what it's about!" I hated this tone in his voice. Did something happen that he wasn't telling me about?

"It's not? Explain that to me, then. Because you're not doing all this promotion because its part of your fucking art. No one who listens to the radio or watches MTV cares about the music. They just want to buy what everyone else is buying. It's just a product. We could put out a CD of fucking white noise, and if it was packaged right, and we smiled for all the cameras and kissed enough ass, it would still sell. Fuck, that might actually get us some good reviews."

"Nick…" I whispered. I didn't know what to say. I'd never heard him this bitter about his work. Usually he shrugged off the reviews and told me it was about the fans, and he loved it. I knew he loved it; that wasn't just some line he was feeding me and the rest of the world. He loved singing and performing and being up there in front of the crowd.

"I should suggest that to the guys, a blank album. It'll be the emperor's new clothes, only very cool people could hear it. We'll make a fucking mint, and maybe we'll finally be able to pay off fucking Lou and then we can just retire."

"Nick, stop it!" I yelled. "What is wrong? You're freaking me out now."

I was pissed off, that was what was wrong. There was this fucking crisis with Kevin and Jana and the affair, and my entire band was mad at me because I maybe had too much to drink last night. That's what the fucking band meeting was about. Shit! Displacement much?

"I'm pissed off because yet again I don't get to see you. You're my fucking girlfriend, and I'm lucky if get to see you once a goddamn week."

"We just saw each other, Nick." She was starting to sound a little annoyed. "And we'll see each other Monday."

"The only reason is just saw you is because the fucking world blew up. If that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have seen you for two weeks. Oh, wait, that was supposed to be tomorrow. So I wouldn't have seen you until god knows when."

"Sorry. But I have a job to do. And we will see each other on Monday. And it's not like we never talk."

"Oh, please. I'm lucky to get you on the phone. Time is ticking away right now; I'm sure Lola will be there any second to whore you out to some other interviewer. I hope your shirt is tight enough."

Silence.

Shit.

"You've crossed a line, Nick." Her voice was cold, and my heart sank.

I knew that. Shit, I knew that . I was so stupid when I was angry and hung over. I had to learn to keep my mouth shut.

"That's not what this is about."

"What is it about, Rachel? The bottom line of this whole thing is money. You do interviews to sell more albums and concert tickets to make more money. What's more important, me or the money?"

"Fuck you. Don't ask that question."

Why couldn't I keep my fucking mouth shut? I don't want to ask that question, because I don't want the answer. I knew what it would be. We were quiet for a moment, and then I heard her take a deep breath.

"I don't know what's wrong with you today, Nick. I'm going to chalk this whole conversation up to a hangover or something and pretend it never happened."

"Whatever." Of course she would. Why would anyone ever take me seriously? Maybe I'd gone too far, but I had a point. Fuck going to L.A., she was supposed to have a day off with me! Maybe if I got to actually be in the same fuckin' room with her, I'd feel better. Maybe then I'd stop fighting with everyone I saw.

"I've gotta go. Need to whore myself some more," she said bitterly. "I'll talk to you later."

"If you can squeeze me in."

"If you're just gonna tell me I'm a sell out, maybe I won't."

She hung up. Fuck, she hung up on me. I just blinked at the phone for a moment, my heart in my throat.

Fuck her. She was a sell out. As soon as you got involved in this business you became a sell out. You couldn't help it. It was just the way it was. I was just trying to get her to be honest about it. Fuck, at least she never had Burger King action figures. Or Pop Tarts. My stupid tour was sponsored by fucking Pop Tarts.

The phone rang, and I picked it up without thinking. "What?" I growled. She'd better start the apologies. This was her fault. It was her fault we weren't going to be together tomorrow, and it was her fault that I couldn't even get her on the phone today.

"Hey, Nicky, I'm surprised you answered."

Oh. Mandy. Now she was a pop tart. She always knew it was all about the business; she'd do anything to get her face in front of a camera to sell more units.

"Of course, babe. I knew it was you."

What the hell was wrong with him? Accusing me of being a sell out? Fuck, at least fucking Pop Tarts and Polaroid didn't sponsor my tour. I had to work tomorrow. It wasn't selling out.

Right?

I didn't know anymore.

There was a knock at my door and Lola's voice. "Rachel, two minutes!"

I opened the door, and she nearly fell inside, making me smile in spite of myself. "Where's my laptop?"

"What? Why aren't you on the phone with the boy wonder?"

I just scowled at her, and she nodded knowingly. "Is my laptop on the bus? I need to look at my email." Nick had mentioned something about an email, right? Maybe something happened that I didn't know about that made him so cranky.

Not that it was any excuse for some of the things he'd said.

That I'd told him I was ignoring, right? It was just a bad mood, let it go, Rachel. I was a bitch yesterday and missed our date; at least he wasn't harping on that. But, I needed to deal with another boy in a mood today? Wasn't my ex enough,? Did I have to deal with my current boyfriend, too? Couldn't Nick just be a tiny bit supportive about my job, instead of whining about it all the time?

"You don't have time. Two minutes."

I pouted at her, and she relented. "While you're sound checking, I'll log on and check it for you. I won't read it," she explained quickly at the look on my face. "I'll print it out and give it to you when you're done."

"Even the penis enlargement ads?"

"Especially the penis enlargement ads," she joked, making me smile.

"Yeah, I hear Nick needs those," James teased, coming out of his room.

Good mood ruined. Fucker. Nick did not need penis enlargement! And I definitely didn't need to be considering his penis, as I was still mad at him.

"My favorite are the emails for the teen girls fucking barnyard animals sites," he went on, trying to make me laugh. "Because that makes me hot."

"You are so gross, James," I told him sternly, and Lola backed away.

"I need to get the others," she explained, moving down the hallway and calling for Darien.

"Aw, c'mon, Rache. Live nude girls, on line, 24 hours a day."

"Better than dead nude girls, I imagine."

James managed to keep my mind off my stupid boyfriend, but the soundcheck sucked anyway. During dinner, Lola found me and handed me a stack of paper.

"Okay, you are never allowed to go more than 24 hours without reading your email. Damn, you are a popular girl!"

I smiled at her and took them, "Thank you, Lola."

I shuffled through the pages… penis enlargement, live girls with barnyard animals, instant Viagra… how the hell did I get on these email lists, anyway? Finally, one from Nick.

Date: Tuesday, September 18, 2001
From: Nick
To: Rachel

Hi buttercup,

I've called like 10 times and keep getting your message. are you still on the radio? I thought you were doing morning drive time. Knowing saffron, she's adding 12 things to your busy day, huh? Believe it or not, I remember what that was like, Rache, and it sucks, I know it does.

I looked up at the date again. Tuesday. Okay, on Tuesday he understood that my job sucked. What the hell happened between then and now?

I'm bored. Howie is off with lee and Kevin's in his room with Jana. I think I'm pissing AJ off and I don't even know what I did. I'm so sick of this, Rache. Missing you and hating the fellas. I think if you weren't here to distract me I would... I don't know, but it probably wouldn't be good.

AJ already cornered me about drinking too much. Man, I am starting to really hate the new serious "Alex," you know. I mean, I still love AJ, he's my brother… but I just wanna be able to go out and forget about Backstreet and missing you so much. Is that wrong? I mean, that's what guys my age do, don't they? They party with their friends.

But I don't have friends. Well, not here. I asked the guys if they wanted to go out the other day and they looked at me like I'd sprouted a second head. So I took Eddie, Howie's guard, because he's kinda young and Frank was tired.

I walked into the VIP room and suddenly I had a drink in my hand. I swear, the best thing about being a pop star (besides meeting cool rock chicks at 2am in vending machine rooms!) is never having to wait at the bar to order a drink. A pretty little blonde came over and handed me a drink. I think it was vodka and cranberry juice, but I'm not sure. They just kept coming. And she kept getting prettier - *grin*. Anyway, when we came back from the club there were all these fans in the lobby and no Frank.

Yeah, you guessed it, Howie's guard is fine for Howie. But Howie's not me.

Damn, that sounded conceited, didn't it?

Didn't mean to... It's just... Well, you know my fans, Rache. They are sometimes a little too devoted.

So Eddie, kinda freaked out and didn't know what to do. I'm completely drunk and nearly seeing double and suddenly we're surrounded by like 10-15 girls and they're screaming at me and grabbing at me and then someone takes a picture and…

I lost it, buttercup. Just... I glared at the girl and reached for her camera, but she moved away and then someone called me an asshole. Eddie took the film and exposed it. We never do that, Rache. So he over-reacted and then the girl started yelling at him.

Shit.

What do they want from me? I was missing you and needed to get out for a bit and just... Just... Not think. So I was not thinking and then this happens. Now everyone is pissed at me. AJ's already all 'holier than thou' now with the no drinking thing. And Kevin is pissed off, too. Brian was trying to lecture me the other day, too.

My poor bunny… sounded like the guys were ganging up on him a little. I knew how that felt. To just be so tired of seeing the guys and want to go off and forget about everything. I was supposed to be his distraction, but I wasn't even there.

It's probably good that I can't get you on the phone. You don't need to hear this, do you? No. I'm sorry. I'll be better in a little bit, I'm sure. I need to drink a lot of juice and water and take about 10 aspirin.

I love you, Rache... But I miss you more. I am counting the minutes until Friday, baby. Fuck re-entry time, I'm not letting you out of my sight (or my bed!)

Love,
Nick

I sighed. "Counting the minutes"? And now I'd taken our day away. But still, that wasn't so bad, was it? So why the fucking attitude before? That was twice in the few days we'd been apart that he'd gone out and gotten completely trashed. That was sort of out of character. What the fuck was going on in the Backstreet camp that he wasn't telling me? Had to be more than just them being mad that he was drinking, right?

I flipped through the rest of the emails. Another one from Em, which I read through quickly for the cute Lexa stories. I really owed her a response. Maybe I could find time to call her when we got to LA, call from the plane and charge it to EMI or something.

The next one was from Jon. I was right, I was completely overspent on my credit card this month. Fuck. How the hell was I going to get to Chicago even if I had the time? I know I was over-spending my per diems and travel allotment. I was dreading our first accounting meeting. The guys were going to flip.

Finally one from Nick, this one from yesterday… when we were supposed to be having our phone date. My stomach dropped, as I started to read it.

Date: Wednesday, September 19, 2001
To: Rachel
From: Nick

Fuck, Rache. Where the hell are you? We had a fucking date! It wasn't a "maybe I'll be free and we can talk" date but a DATE DATE! Like when we were at the Point and you dressed up and we went to dinner.

Whatever. Maybe you didn't realize… maybe you just didn't care. I don't know. I'm just so pissed off. I had things to tell you, even. I just wanted an hour of your time when you weren't falling asleep or cranky because you had to run to another interview to answer stupid questions that you'd been asked 12 million times before. An hour to forget my stupid life and just get lost in you.

I know it's only been a few days and I'm being selfish… but I just wanted that. Needed that.

But last night… when we'd talked, he'd shrugged the whole thing off and said it was okay that I didn't make the date. Fuck. No wonder he was so pissed at me.

Because when you see the Star or the National Enquirer next week, you're gonna see us. Well, not us. Kevin. Kevin and Jana. All hell is breaking loose here and I just wanted an hour to forget about it…

Kristin talked to some reporter and said that Kevin was having an affair. Can you believe it?

Yeah, I know he shouldn't be cheating on his wife, but there's so much shit going on there. I think they were 2 steps away from getting divorced anyway, and then Jana came back into his life. Anyway, Kristin talked and our management got completely scared. First AJ and now this… what a way for us to fall from grace, huh? So they fired Jana. Fucking fired her! Without even telling us. Kevin wigged. I've seen him angry before, Rache, but nothing like this. He was even yelling at Brian, and he never does that.

So we convinced them that we shouldn't fire her, but she's quitting anyway. I can't say that I blame her… its going to be crazy now. Everyone is going to hate her and the press is going to have a field day.

I thought tensions were high before… they're just insane now. Everyone is yelling at me about last night and I think AJ is ready to do an intervention. So I can't sleep? So I miss you so much it fucking hurts and… I went out a few nights. Doesn't make me a fucking drunk! I'm just… I'm so tired of it. All of it. Touring with you was so much more fun. You guys fight, but not like this. Everything is such a crisis lately. Everything.

I think I'm glad we cancelled the European leg of the tour now. Because I don't like the fellas much right now. They keep going off and making all these decisions without me. And I know I'm not paying enough attention to what we're doing. I'm always with you or talking to you or obsessing about you…

Whoa. They cancelled the European tour? He didn't tell me that. When did that happen? Was that what he'd been so pissed about all week? Could they do something like that without telling him? I thought Backstreet was a democracy. Hell, if the boys made any decision without me - even where to stop for dinner while we were on the road - I got pissed off. They'd never consider making a business decision without me.

WHY HAVEN'T YOU RETURNED MY CALLS?!?!

I don't get it, Rache. I know you're busy. But you could find 2 fuckin' seconds to call and just say hi, can't you? Would it kill you? Would it ruin your image if the boys knew that you loved me?

Sometimes I wonder.

I know you thought it was all about the chase for me… but it wasn't. It isn't. I'm tired of chasing you.

Shit. I should just delete this, huh?

-Nick

I re-read his last paragraph again. He was tired of chasing me. Was that what I was making him do? I wasn't…

I reached for my phone, but James came into the room.

"I need two minutes, James."

He started to make a joke, but then he saw my face. "What happened?"

I started to hand him the email, but stopped. No. Jeremy was right… James was my protector. He'd read this, and I'd tell him about our conversation earlier, and he'd just get all pissed off at Nick. I didn't want to deal with that, too.

"Nick. The press found out about Kevin and Jana, and she's leaving the tour, and… man, things are just a mess in Backstreet land, I think."

"Shit. That sucks. She was nice. But you're going to have to wait. Saffron needs us in her room. She finally got Sophie Mueller on the phone, and we need to talk about the video."

Fuck! I shoved the papers in my bag and followed James down to Saffron's room, dialing Nick's number on the way. Maybe I could at least talk to him for a second… I didn't know what the fuck I was going to say… but there had to be something. How could I not see how upset he'd been all week?

The phone only rang once before going into voicemail. Did he have it off? Or was he talking to someone else? I let James get ahead of me a bit and dropped my voice, "Nick, it's me. I just… I just read your emails and… I don't know what to say, baby. I really don't. I… fuck. I can't leave you a message. Just call me when you can. I'll try to… no. I'll keep my phone on. If I'm in interviews, I'll give it to Lola and ask her to get me. I love you, Nick. Really."

I could do that. Yeah. I'd just give the phone to Lola, and she could come get me. They didn't have to know what was up. Maybe someone was sick… I'd tell James something later, and he'd cover for me with Darien and Jeremy.

But after our last interview Lola still hadn't come to get me. I glanced down at our watch. We weren't going to have time to sound check again tonight. Nick was already at his meet and greet… maybe I'd catch him after his show. Certainly he'd check his messages then.

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