[Nick]

This city is something else. You come here and you have the music scene which is humungous and then you have the bar and club scene which is even cooler. You can get up on a stage with any band and sing a Bryan Adams or Hank Williams song and the cool thing about it – the crowd has no idea that you’re a Backstreet Boy.

I live for that kind of feeling.

I mean, I’m not ashamed of who I am, you know, Nick Carter of the Backstreet Boys. After all, I would probably be working as a mechanic in Tampa somewhere, married with three kids if I wasn’t a member of this group.

Yeah, that doesn’t sound too hot, you know?

So it makes me thankful that I have this life to live, except when someone walks out of my life again – Kevin. I’m used to people walking out of my life because it’s been that way from the time I was a child until just two days ago. The old people who lived in the retirement home that my parents ran to girls who I thought I could possibly fall in love with – they’ve all left.

I know that Kevin isn’t totally out of my life. He’s still going to be my brother whether he’s in this band or not. It’s just Kevin was the foundation of this band for so long and now it’s just four of us and we don’t have that foundation. That scares me.

That’s why I didn’t really want to talk about it in that interview today with that journalist chick. I wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. I couldn’t talk about it or I would end up crying.

I’m a man! I can’t cry!

The chick was pretty cool about not making me talk about it if I didn’t want to but I started talking about stuff I probably shouldn’t have even mentioned – like the devil who’s name starts with a P. Yeah, that one.

Now the guys are ridding my ass about calling her and asking her out. I have her card and everything but I don’t know. She seems like a really cool chick and they said she was my age, but I don’t know. She doesn’t really seem like my type.

“She’s not my type,” I told Howie for the ninth time as we sat in the studio. “She was cool as hell but, just not my type.”

“Because she wasn’t a size 0?” Brian asked as I glared at him. “Who cares, she’s got a little meat on her bones. You haven’t always been skinny.”

“That’s not it,” I said, leaning back in the chair. “I want to focus on the music.” Sure, they would buy that excuse, wouldn’t they?”

“She’s a music journalist,” AJ said. I glared at him and he laughed. “He’ll I’ll ask her out. I don’t care if she’s got a little meat on the bones. More cushin’ for the pushin,” he laughed, causing me to smile.

“You are a horndog,” Brian said, tossing an empty water bottle at him.

“Fine, to save her from AJ’s pornographic ways, I’ll e-mail her,” I hissed, sliding my chair over to where my laptop was. “I’ll see if she wants to go out and get a drink tonight. She’s probably still at work.”

“I don’t know, it’s after ten,” Howie said.

“Journalist work late though,” Brian replied.

“Just shut up and let me type,” I hissed, opening up my email. I reached in my pocket and grabbed her card to see her e-mail address. “If she doesn’t reply by the time we leave the studio then whatever.”

I took a deep breath and began typing.

Hey Karie,

It’s Nick Carter. Sorry about how the guys were making googly eyes at you today. I’m still at the studio and it’s almost 10. I was wonderin if you wanted to go and grab a drink before calling it a night. If you don’t get this email tonight, just hit me back tomorrow or something.

Nick

I hit send on the e-mail and looked back at the guys to see smiles on their faces. They really needed to get lives or at least leave mine the hell alone.

“Good decision,” Brian smiled. “She seemed like a cool girl and she put you in your place.”

“Nobody tells me what to do,” I shot back. “I could have said no to the interview all together, but I’m not a dick so I said I’d just talk about music.”

“Right,” Howie and AJ both laughed and I rolled my eyes.

You have mail!

“Damn that was quick!” AJ exclaimed as the other guys gathered around the computer.

“Back off!” I yelled as I pushed Brian out of the way and opened my e-mail.

Nick –

Meet me at Rippy’s on Broadway at 11. I’ll be at the bar. I’m almost done with work.

- K

“You go boy!” the guys yelled as they patted me on the back. I sighed and looked over at Howie as he winked at me.

I walked into the bar with ten minutes to spare and looked around. It was a nice place, but I was surprised that she would pick a place like this. There was a band playing on stage and I began moving my head with the music. It was a country band, but they were playing a cover of a Kiss song, which was odd, but sounded good.

“What can I get ya?” the bartender asked as I sat down at the bar.

“Coors Light,” I replied, knowing that I probably shouldn’t drink too much since we had meetings with songwriters early in the morning. I looked at the time on my phone before putting it back in my pocket. “Thanks,” I told the bartender as I took my drink.

The band stopped playing the Kiss song and began playing something else. I wasn’t sure what it was until I heard a girl begin singing. I grabbed my beer and twirled around on my stool and paused.

Karie was on stage singing.

I didn’t know the song that she was singing but she spotted me and waved. She had a pretty good voice. As I looked around the bar, everybody seemed to enjoy what she was singing. Hell, I didn’t know she could sing.

What the hell am I talking about? I didn’t know this chick at all!

I practically swallowed my entire bottle of beer in one swallow and turned around to ask for another. Before I turned back around, the song that she was singing had ended and everybody was applauding. They knew her name too. I looked around to see people’s reactions and obviously this wasn’t the first time she had sung here before.

“Hey,” Karie said as she walked up to the bar and sat down next o me. “Surprise!” she laughed as I stared at her. “What?”

“You’re a singer,” I replied, not laughing. I should have known she wanted something out of this.

“I sing, yeah,” she said. “I do it for fun. I wanted to be a singer when I was younger and tried but it went nowhere and that’s when I fell in love with journalism.”

“So you don’t want to be a singer?” I asked, watching her shake her head no. “I saw you come out and sing and I was like damn, another one!” I laughed, but suddenly I realized she wasn’t.

“Another what?”

“Girl that wants me to get her a deal or something.”

“Oh hell no,” she laughed, shaking her head. “I do this like twice a week when I have time and when I came in, they wanted me to sing the Tammy Wynette song that they were going to play so I went up to do it. No big deal.” I smiled, watching her call the bartender by name, ordering a Bud Light. “Plus,” she said. “I’m too fat.”

“Yeah, the industry is pretty screwed up when it comes to that stuff,” I said, watching her take a big drink from her beer. “I’ve dealt with it. I got depressed and gained a lot of weight and I’ve been working out and losing some.”

“I’m just naturally this way. I barely eat and I walk and work out all the time,” she said, turning to look at me. “So,” she grinned, “why did you e-mail me? Did they make you do it?”

“Partially,” I laughed. “Plus, you seemed interesting and I’m thinking about getting a place up here so who better to talk to then a girl who writes for the newspaper here on the scene that I love most – music. “

“I’ll be honest, I’m not into pop music that much. I’m more into rock and country.”

“Good, because so am I.”

“That would explain the tattoos, huh?” she asked, touching my inside wrist. “I’ve been thinking about getting one but I don’t know where.”

“What kind of tattoo do you want?” I asked as she started explaining that she wanted two checkered flags crossing. “Racing?”

“Love it,” she smiled. “I go to as many races as I can. I write sports columns once in a while on NASCAR, especially if something is happening around here.”

I smiled, taking the last swig of beer in my bottle and listened to her as she started talking about some festival that comes every year that mixes both racing and music together. Then she began telling me about her ten year high school reunion that her mother was making her go to. I wasn’t exactly sure why she was telling me about it, but I didn’t really care. As long as she didn’t want money or a record deal out of me, she was cool.

Really cool.

[/Nick]