Chapter 10

Four Months Later…

Brian took to wandering the twists and turns of the unfamiliar venue. It was a new city; one the group had failed to play at in their previous tours. Each of them was against the tour, but no longer could they simply ignore their fans. Sometime around two months after Howie’s heart attack, they had to update the fans. As they expected, the fans were immediately by their side, comforting and reassuring them that they would be near if the group ever decided to reform.

After a few months, the group decided enough was enough. Even though it hurt to go through the process without Howie, they had to press on. Originally, no one wanted to do anything without Howie. It wasn’t the same. They weren’t the Backstreet Boys without Howie. They were just four guys who happened to sing together. The Backstreet Boys were five, and while that was an odd number, somehow the extra talent and brotherly affection thrown into their music made six, and without Howie, that talent and affection died, leaving them individuals instead of brothers.

But Jive was a wolf. The executives and the Boys’ managers were on their backs constantly with telephone call after telephone call, E-Mail after E-Mail, fax after fax. It became so much that none of them could turn on their cell phone without hearing it instantly ring. “It will only be six cities,” management reasoned. “You can sing the songs Howie had no solos in. After all, he never did sing that much to begin with.”

Hearing those words only made them more reluctant. “It’s not his solos, damn it,” A.J. had seethed, “it’s the harmony. It doesn’t sound right without him.” And the others had to agree. They had secretly gathered to try and harmonize together without Howie in the past months. While Howie had few solos, he completed the sound. Without him, the harmony sounded empty. What made it worse was the lack of feeling the four remaining put into their songs. They felt terrible singing without Howie, and it affected their performance.

Finally, Jive stopped offering and bribing and began threatening to cut their contract and a great deal of other less pleasant warnings. It left the Boys with the most difficult decision of their lives. Perform without Howie or not? It took a month, but Kevin and Brian eventually grudgingly gave their questionable consent. Nick, with nowhere else to turn to, was forced to agree. A.J. flat out declined.

It took more than two months to finally get him to agree, and even then he said it was only because he didn’t want Nick begging for food on the streets (though everyone agreed that was less than likely with the kind of money Nick still had). Then they had a new challenge.

Telling Howie.

Brian paused in a new room, one he rather liked. It was a kind of storage room, where instruments were kept. For the time being, it was completely empty. He had found in the past that these types of rooms had excellent acoustics. So hesitantly he entered. He sang a few bars of random songs: “Shape of My Heart”, “As Long as You Love Me”, and “The One”. He was getting pretty far into “It’s True” before he felt someone’s gaze on him.

He stopped singing and turned his head to see Howie standing in the doorway, silently watching him. Brian immediately bit his lip. Howie was frowning slightly, tears streaming down his face. Brian started to say something, but before he could utter a word, Howie was gone.

<~*~>

Kevin was playing “Drowning” on the grand piano they planned on using for the concert. It was a song they hadn’t decided to do. After all, Kevin thought sadly, Howie has a solo in that one. They found that most of their favorites Howie had a major part in. “What Makes You Different (Makes You Beautiful)”, “All I Have to Give”, “How Did I Fall in Love With You?” and “Spanish Eyes” were songs they could never do without Howie. Howie had unspoken claim on “How Did I Fall in Love With You?” and “What Makes You Different (Makes You Beautiful)”, since he wrote them. Still, it failed to change the fact that Howie completed their sound. Without him, what were they? They were painfully reminded whenever they sang “All I Have to Give” that even though that was one of their five biggest hits, without Howie, it sounded, in A.J.’s own words, “Like shit.”

However, Kevin liked “Drowning” and found it soothing to play. Besides, he only had himself for company. Nick and Brian were off exploring. Nick probably found the vending machines by now. Kevin wondered where A.J. had wandered off. The rebel was still angry with himself for agreeing to tour without Howie, but in all reality, there were little to no options available besides the one they were offered. Kevin himself hated the choice the group had to make. That had been management’s fault. But he blamed the way Howie had taken the news on himself.

<~*~>

One Month Before…

The group decided to meet at A.J.’s house. It was the biggest place they could go and closest to Howie’s, besides Nick’s. Besides, it was one of the few places Howie felt safe. That would soon change after he heard the news they had for him.

They left the job of calling Howie up to Brian. A.J. was opposed completely against the tour in general. It was mostly his guilt for agreeing to touring that led him to agree to having the meeting at his house. All Kevin and Nick had to do was be there. Kevin would have enough to do by being the main speaker of the four-fifths of the group, and Nick they flat out didn’t trust with anything big. Nick wasn’t exactly what anyone would describe as…subtle.

To their dismay, when Howie arrived, he seemed happy, happier than he had been in months. They hadn’t really expected anything to the contrary. Howie had been spending time with his family, after all. That always cheered him up. Howie’s family meant everything to him. To be with them must have lifted his spirits immensely. It made Nick and A.J. feel worst of all, because they had been there at Christmas while Howie spent actual time with his family. They remembered how happy he had been, not worrying about the stupid infection. It depressed the others knowing they would be unraveling his world after he had finally managed to reassemble everything again.

A.J. turned his eyes onto the floor and kept them there. Kevin sighed as he watched the rebel slip his sunglasses back on. Kevin’s worst fear was confirmed as Howie’s expression fell in an instant. Howie’s eyes were on A.J. Kevin cursed, knowing why A.J. had shielded his eyes. Howie had seen. A.J.’s eyes were as blabbermouthed as any gossiping woman. Howie knew there was something wrong. Kevin cursed A.J. and his tell-all eyes. Later he would tape A.J.’s sunglasses to his head.

Howie’s eyes flitted from one band mate to the next anxiously, but luckily Nick, Brian, and Kevin’s eyes weren’t hardly as snitching as A.J.’s. Still, Howie was a master at reading eyes, and in a matter of seconds he knew whatever was wrong had to do with him. He turned his soulful eyes on Kevin pleadingly.

Kevin sighed. “Howie, sit down. We have to talk to you about…something.”

Howie didn’t sit. He stared at his only senior in the group, trying to pry through Kevin’s unresponsive eyes to what he wanted to know.

Kevin rubbed his temple. This was going to be difficult. There was no way to tell how Howie would react. He looked nervous. Maybe when he found out that it had nothing to do with his health, he wouldn’t take it so hard… But that, of course, was wishful thinking.

Kevin stiffened as he heard Brian’s voice recover for his older cousin. “Howie,” Brian said softly. Howie turned his gaze on the younger Kentuckian. “We’re…we’re going on tour.”

Howie blinked in confusion. He looked to A.J., his unofficial translator. A.J. kept his eyes on the floor, his face shadowed as he ducked his head. Howie instead looked at Nick, eyes beseeching. Nick chewed his lip nervously and shot a helpless look at Kevin. Howie finally settled his gaze on Kevin, looking lost.

“We’re going without you, D,” Kevin said softly.

Howie’s eyes widened. He looked like a deer trapped in headlights, dark brown eyes swimming with emotions of betrayal and disbelief. He glimpsed at each of his band mates, looking for one of them to say their oldest brother was just kidding, or searching for someone to disagree with Kevin. He stared at A.J. for the longest time, but A.J. never looked up. Howie’s eyes began to fill with tears, still watching A.J. Finally he turned his head away, shutting his eyes.

“Howie,” Brian said gently, getting up and approaching his friend. He hesitantly reached out and squeezed Howie’s shoulder. “You okay, buddy?”

Howie clamped his eyes closed tighter; a tear strained out of his eye. He opened his eyes and stared at Kevin. Kevin winced at the brokenhearted look of betrayal on his face. “God, Howie, I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

Howie shook his head. He shrugged away from Brian’s hand with a look of disgust. He glared fiercely at him before scowling at Kevin, tears still pouring out of his eyes. “How could you?” he mouthed to none of them but at the same time, all of them. The words, though silent, broke their hearts, because even they didn’t know how they had.

A.J. looked up finally, Kevin guessed sensing the pain his older friend was going through. A.J. bit his lip until tiny droplets of blood appeared. “Howie,” he said softly. Howie looked at him immediately. There was something different in his eyes when he looked at A.J., something stronger. Howie trusted A.J. more than anyone in the group. Through everything, Howie must have believed A.J. was the only one that was telling him the truth.

Then it was done. Through losing Caroline, seeing the brutal lives of so many around him, seeing so many terrible things about the life he lived, and now through feeling the pain of his four closest friends lying to him, Howie was finally thrust completely into the harsh world of reality alone. A world where friends lied to friends and loved ones died without a fight. Kevin could see the lost and aghast emotions flying through Howie’s eyes as he stared at A.J. Kevin somehow knew what he was thinking. My brothers lied to me. My best friend lied to me.

A.J. shook his head slightly at his friend. “How, I had nothing to do with…” He stopped. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he, too, had agreed. No matter how reluctant he had been, it didn’t change the fact that he had agreed to touring without Howie. A.J. turned his head away. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Howie, please don’t be mad at us,” Nick said quietly, surprising his band mates. It was the first time he had acknowledged that he was even consciously listening.

Howie glanced at him. Kevin could see he had meant only to look for a second, but the childish pleading look in Nick’s eyes must have captured Howie’s attention. Whatever effect it had had on Howie vanished, however, in a matter of moments.

Without a word further, Howie left.

As soon as the door slammed, A.J. buried his face in his hands, sighing. Nick winced and Brian let his head hang. Kevin leaned back into the couch, relaxing his tense muscles as the stale silence settled in. At least it wasn’t the deafening silence that had engulfed the room seconds before. He rested his head on the back of the couch, shutting his eyes. Why did the music industry have to be so heartless? Couldn’t management see that making Howie’s band mates sing without him broke his heart? Didn’t they care? How couldn’t they care? Remembering Howie’s brokenhearted eyes, Kevin wondered who could be so cold that they could inflict that sort of pain on someone as sweet and harmless as Howie? Someone who never did anything to hurt anybody?

“I never thought I’d say this,” A.J. said, lifting his head out of his hands with a strained look, “but I hate my job.”

Nick nodded. “So do I,” he mumbled.

“Fucking management,” Brian growled. The unexpected foul language left his three remaining band mates in shock. He fumed. “They had to do this, didn’t they? Damn it!”

“Do we have to do this?” Nick asked Kevin, his voice void of his usual whine. He watched his oldest band mate steadily, finally looking his age.

Kevin tried to enjoy it, as he knew it was a one-time occurrence, but found his attention taken by something more important. He nodded somberly. Nick sighed and threw his arms up irritably. Kevin became defensive. “Hey,” he snapped, “I don’t want to do this any more than you do, Nick.” He growled under his breath, trying to let out steam.

A.J. looked at the doorway. “Should someone go after him?” he asked quietly.

Brian shook his head. “I don’t think he wants to see any of us right now.”

A.J. glared at him suddenly. “I didn’t ask if he wanted to see us. He might–” He paused, apparently searching for the right words.

“Might what, A.J.?” Nick snapped. “Commit suicide?”

A.J. stood up abruptly, tearing his sunglasses off. His wild eyes seared into Nick’s alarmed ones. “Shut the fuck up, Nick,” he growled. “Don’t you fucking say that, you got me? Never. Howie’s not that stupid. He wouldn’t do that.” He advanced on Nick angrily. “Understand, jackass?”

“Hey!” Brian pried A.J. away from Nick, catching the Floridian’s eyes with his own. “Calm down. He didn’t say he would. Just calm down, man.” He glanced back at Nick. “He was just being Nick.” Brian stared at A.J. for a moment, waiting for clarification. “Just ignore him,” Brian suggested gently.

A.J. shoved him away. “Shut up, Brian,” he snapped. He left the group and headed up the staircase, leaving them alone in the living room. The slamming bedroom door echoed throughout the entire house.

“I wish Howie was here,” Brian sighed. “He’s the only one that can control him.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the stairs.

Kevin nodded. He rested his head in his hand, staring at the floor. “I wish he had his voice back. That’s half of what’s killing him.”

Nick shuddered.

Brian frowned concernedly. “You okay, Frack?” he asked softly.

Nick looked up at his friend. “It’s just so scary… Can you imagine losing your voice?”

Brian shook his head. “No, Nicky. I can’t…”

<~*~>

Brian ran back into the stadium panting and gasping. He jogged to the grand piano where Kevin was distractedly playing “Drowning”. As soon as Kevin heard his “little cousin”, he stopped playing and looked offstage to see Brian running down one of the aisles. He got up from the piano and jumped off the stage, meeting his cousin halfway.

“What’s wrong?” Kevin asked immediately, frowning.

Brian leaned his hands on his knees, trying to catch up with his rapid heartbeat. “Howie…saw… Saw…me…singing… Don’t…know…where…he…is,” he panted, collapsing onto the floor on his back. He looked up and grinned weakly. “Pretty lights…” he giggled before passing out.

Kevin rolled his eyes momentarily before the brunt of Brian’s message hit him.

“Hey Kev, what’s goin’ on?” A.J. asked from behind him. Kevin spun around to see A.J. standing on the ground floor, looking up a few aisles into the seats with a water bottle halfway to his mouth. He arched an eyebrow above his sunglasses. “Aaand Brian would be on the floor becaaauuuse…?”

“Howie’s missing,” Kevin snapped, ignoring A.J.’s sarcasm.

A.J. dropped the water bottle. “What?”

“Go find Nick and help me look for him,” Kevin said quickly.

A.J. nodded. “Right.” Without another word or second wasted, the rebel was off like a shot.

Kevin sighed and raked his hands through his hair. Now what?

<~*~>

A.J. raced through the hallways, heart pounding. Nick could go find himself. He wished he knew why Howie was missing. What had happened? Had something happened to him? And why was Brian lying on the floor? Had someone attacked him? A.J.’s overactive imagination began cooking up terrible fates for his missing friend, believable only in his own mind.

He slowed down. The venue they were performing at was unbelievably huge, and if he ran so fast he would be exhausted a quarter through the underground. Besides that, he still had the upper floors to look in. Howie was a pain in the ass to find when he didn’t want to be found.

He stopped cold where he stood, cutting his breath short. He heard familiar guitar strings, opening notes to a now painful song. But they weren’t recorded. He had heard that song too many times not to be able to tell the difference. He knew that guitar too. How many times had Howie played it? He sighed. He found Howie.

He walked to the door and hesitated. He pushed the doorway open to see Howie sitting with his back to him on one of the several seats cluttering the room. It was some sort of storage room, littered with chairs in random places and many of the instruments the band used. Howie, as A.J. expected, was leaning over his guitar, plucking the opening chords to “What Makes You Different (Makes You Beautiful)”.

A.J. kept silent as Howie ran through the entire song skillfully, never once hesitating. A.J. smiled to himself. He shouldn’t, after all, A.J. thought, it really is Howie’s song. It had been mainly Howie that wrote the song. He took pride in that song. It must have killed him to know he would never sing it again. A.J. was about to speak when a ghostly sound erased the idea of speaking all together.

“You don't run with a crowd

You go your own way

You don't play after dark

You light up my day…”