Lauryn:

 

            Two and a half weeks since I’d left Europe. The Boys and Shea were deep in the South American rain forests, putting on show after show for their loyal South American fans. They would be returning to the States in four days.

            Shea and Brian were the only two who kept in contact with me after I’d left the tour. I would occasionally talk to Nick when Shea called, but the one person I really needed to talk to didn’t call me, not even to return my calls. My conversations with Shea seemed strained. Her probing for answers, me changing the subject.

            Brian and I had grown even more distant since I’d been gone. Our talks were short, friendly “How are you doing?” and “What’s going on with you?” We both knew we were drifting further and further away from each other, but at the end of our calls, neither of us had the courage to say anything about our failing relationship.

            I wanted, or needed, to talk to Kevin. Tell him how I felt. That I was ready to be with him and him alone, but Nick had told me that Kevin was dating a Japanese woman he’d met in Tokyo. My heart broke thinking that I could be so easily replaced. That my heart and I meant so little to him.

            I sighed with the frustration of everything and finished getting ready for the night. Saturday night. I would be singing at the J’taime Lounge. Love songs and songs about heartbreak. Two things that I knew a lot about these days. I checked the mirror one last time and left, not knowing that my life would forever change before dawn arose.

 

Shea: 

 

            “That’s strange,” I said to myself as I hung up the phone.

            “What’s that, honey?” Nick asked from the sofa.

            “Lauryn’s not answering. I haven’t been able to get a hold of her for two days. That’s not like her,” I replied.

            “Maybe she’s just been really busy,” Nick suggested, his nose buried in an X-men comic book.

            “Maybe.”

            We performed the show in Buenos Aires the next night, our second to last show on this world tour. Ours show had improved from two weeks ago. Back up to a first rate performance. Kevin appeared to be very taken and happy with Ming Li. It seemed like everywhere we went he had a phone glued to his ear. Nick and I were deeply in love. He had hinted marriage in my direction, which I brushed off playfully. Brian was miserable on the inside, but he presented a happy-go-lucky attitude toward his fans and the media. There was trouble in Brian and Lauryn’s paradise, but of them refused to talk to me about it. And, as always, there was sexual tension circling AJ and me in a thick cloud. I was getting antsy to return to my Tampa apartment, making a trip up north to see Lauryn.

            After the show we returned to the hotel to pack our things and jump on the bus for the next venue in Santiago. Suddenly, my cell phone rang, startling me with the “Dixie” song. “Hello?” I answered excitedly, hoping beyond hope that it was Lauryn calling to ease my wondering mind.

            “Hello, Shea,” a tired voice said quietly.

            “Hello, Donna,” I replied politely. If Lauryn’s mother was calling, I knew something was seriously wrong.

            “Shea, don’t be alarmed,” Donna began, “but Lauryn was in a horrible accident two days ago,” she finished.

            “What? What happened? Where is she? Is she okay?” The questions flew from my mouth, one right after the other, not giving Donna a chance to answer.

            “She was attacked on her way home from singing at the J’taime Lounge on Saturday,” Donna said. “He raped my baby!” she cried, her sobs hitting my ear heavily. When she calmed down, she continued. “She’s in a coma at St. Patrick’s Hospital. Please come home!”

            I couldn’t speak. My mouth went dry. The tears poured like rain from my eyes. I fell to the floor sobbing like a child. Nick raced in the door and cradled me in his arms. I bawled loudly into his chest, my cries of sorrow echoing in the room and seeping out the open door.

 

Nick:

 

            “Shea, what is it? What happened?” I asked, panic and worry ringing loud and clear. I’d never seen her like this before. Vulnerable and scared like a child.

            “Nick, I need to go home!” Shea wailed. “Lauryn!” she bellowed. It startled me. I wasn’t aware of what had happened, but I knew it was serious. Shea had to go home. After a few more minutes, Shea collapsed in my lap, exhausted from her emotionally draining release of agony. I scooped her into my arms, laid her on the bed, and went to talk with the other guys.

            Just as I turned around though, I saw four frightened faces crowded around the open door. No one said anything, their eyes asking all the silent questions. I gestured to the hall with my head and everyone back away from the door. “Rok, can we go to you room?” I asked, not wanting to discuss something so personal and serious in the middle of the hallway.

            “Yeah,” Brian replied. We all filed into Brian’s room and sat down at either the table or the sofa. Four pairs of eyes drilled into me, urging and pleading for me to tell them what was up.

            “Shea is going home tomorrow morning,” I stated bluntly.

            “Frack, we’ve still got one more show. She can’t wait until the day after tomorrow?” Brian questioned.

            “No, Brian. She can’t,” I remarked. “I’m going to see if Fatima will cover the last show so we’re not short one dancer, but Shea is going home.”

            “Why, Nick?” Howie asked.

            “I don’t know exactly why, but it has something to do with Lauryn, and with the way she was crying, I have an eerie feeling that it’s not good,” I explained.

            “Okay, Nick. She can go home. Go finish packing and then get your asses on the bus. We’ll talk to Fatima en route,” Kevin conceded.

            Everyone left Brian’s room to finish getting the shit together. Brian looked terrified. Terrified that something tragic had happened to his girlfriend. Even Kevin looked abnormally upset.

            I finished packing the bags and took them downstairs to the bus. André followed me, carrying and emotionally exhausted Shea in his arms.

 

Shea:

 

            When I woke up, I found myself in the cramped space of a bus bunk. For a moment I thought I had dreamed my whole conversation with Donna. That Lauryn was at her warm apartment waiting for our return to the States. Until I heard Nick talking. “I don’t know what happened, but I know she needs to go home.”

            “Okay, Nick. I’ll do the last show so Shea can go be with Lauryn,” Fatima complied.

            My heart sank. My mouth went dry. It was all true. Lauryn was lying in a coma in St. Patrick’s Hospital. Nick peeked in at me. “Hey, Sweetie.” I smiled meekly. “You want to talk about it?” he asked softly, holding my hand and stroking the palm. I shook my head solemnly. “Okay. You talk when you’re ready.”

            I held my arms out to Nick and he crawled into the bunk with me, holding me close in his protective arms. “You’re flying to New York when we get to Santiago. I packed a small carry-on for you and I’ll bring the rest of your luggage when I come home.” I fell asleep again in the comfort of Nick’s arms, my cheek resting on his chest so I could hear the methodical pumping of his heart, dreading what I would see when I got to Manhattan.

            The bus dropped me off at the airport on the way to the venue. I kissed Nick quickly, anxious to get home. “I’ll call when I get there and let you know what’s going on,” I stated.

            “I love you,” Nick replied.

            “Ditto!” I called as I ran toward the entrance.

 

Donna Matthews:

 

            The tears still filled my eyes and dripped down my face, even after three days of waiting with no change in my only daughter’s condition. I had been by her side since the police called me, catching the first flight from Sedgwick to Manhattan to be here with my baby. “Ms. Matthews, you have a visitor,” a nurse said, gently rapping on the door.

            “Thank you,” I replied. I wiped the fresh tears from my eyes with the Kleenex that had become a part of my hand and walked out of the room. “Shea!” I cried, enveloping Shea in my arms.

            “How’s she doing?” Shea questioned in stuttered breaths.

            “No change,” I answered.

            “Can I see her?”

            I nodded. “Of course.” I opened Lauryn’s door and Shea walked in hesitantly. I heard her gasp when she saw Lauryn lying on the starchy white hospital sheets, the blanket folded at her waist.

 

Shea:

 

            I covered my mouth with my hand, holding in the scream of sorrow and shock. There she was. Lying on the hospital bed, tubes, IV’s, and monitors hooked up to every inch of exposed skin. “Omigod,” I whispered. Slowly, I inched my way to the bed, preparing myself psychologically for what I would see close up. The tears broke through the barrier the instant I looked at her face.

            Her eyes were multiple shades of purplish blue. They were so swollen I almost didn’t recognize them as eyes at all. They looked more like over-ripe plums. Tubes snaked up her broken nose, and her bottom lip was split in two.

            I fell to my knees, clinging to the sheets and wailing into the starchy blanket. What bastard took away the beauty, life, and vitality that was so eminent in my best friend? “Honey, let’s get you some fresh air,” Donna said softly, lifting me to my feet. Together we walked out the door and to the parking lot, the tears still flowing like running water.

 

Nick:

 

            I paced backstage anxiously, waiting for Shea to call. She’d been gone since early that morning, but still I hadn’t heard anything from her. We had twenty minutes until show time and I could hear the rowdy Santiago crowd cheering for us.

            Suddenly, my cell phone ran loudly in my hand. “Yes? Hello?” I answered.

            “Is this Nick Carter?” a middle-aged voice questioned.

            “Yes,” I replied hesitantly.

            “This is Donna Matthews, Lauryn’s mother. Shea asked me to call,” Ms. Matthews stated.

            “God! How she doing?” I asked.

            “Lauryn or Shea?” Ms. Matthews inquired.

            “Both,” I answered.

            “Shea is all right. She’s doing as well as she can given the circumstances,” Ms. Matthews began, “but Lauryn’s still in a coma with very little change,” she finished.

            “What? Why is she in a coma?” I asked frantically.

            “Shea didn’t tell you?”

            “No, Ma’am.”

            “She was attacked last Saturday,” Ms. Matthews explained.

            “Omigod,” I whispered. “Tell Shea I’m coming there tonight after the show.”

            “Yes, Dear. Thank you,” Ms. Matthews choked out, her voice coated in sorrow.

            I clicked off the phone and rubbed my face with the palm of my hand, still trying to digest everything Lauryn’s mother had just told me. I planned to keep the information to myself until after the show. Then I would tell them, and whoever wanted to go with me could.

 

Kevin:

 

            The show was off tonight. I didn’t know if it was because Shea was absent, but Nick appeared like he wanted to be anywhere else but on stage. He sang unenthusiastically and danced half-assedly.

            After the show we ran to the buses to avoid the fans. I grabbed Nick’s shoulder. “What’s up, Kid?” I asked.

            “I’m flying to Manhattan tonight,” he answered.

            “Did Shea call you?” I questioned, hoping he has some information on Lauryn.

            “Lauryn’s mother called me, but I’ll talk to everyone about this on the bus,” I answered.

            Nick shrugged off my hand and boarded the bus, rounding up the troops as he walked down the bus corridor. I followed closely behind him, wanting to hear what he had to say about Lauryn.

 

Brian:

 

            I didn’t know why we were following Nick down the corridor to the rec. room, but there we ended up. The four of us sat on the couches while Nick stood in the center of the room. “I’m flying to New York tonight after I get my shit from the hotel,” Nick stated. We all sat silent, waiting for him to explain why. “Lauryn is in a coma.”

            The minute he said that, my eyes began to mist over with tears. Howie covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes wide in shock. AJ lit up a cigarette and puffed intently. And Kevin rubbed his palms to together, his face grief-stricken. “You are all more than welcome to come too,” Nick added.

            We all split, gathering our things from our bunks as quickly as we could. Within fifteen minutes of our arrival at the hotel, the five of us were packed and ready to go. We boarded the first plane that had available seats and soon we were on our way to Lauryn and Shea.

            I tired to think good thoughts on the 14-hour flight, telling myself that Lauryn would be awake, up and walking by the time we reached the hospital. Nick filled us in on what Lauryn’s mother had said, and my thoughts began to look less and less likely that they would happen.

 

Shea:

 

            The next afternoon I woke up from a restless night’s sleep in an uncomfortable orange plastic chair that I had claimed as my bed. I stretched and left the waiting room in search of a cup of coffee. “Shea!” I heard my name yelled from down the hall. I turned around at the sound of a familiar voice and ran down the white corridor to jump into my Nicky’s arms. I kissed him again and again, so happy to have him there with me. I then saw the other four guys standing behind him. I hugged each one in turn and escorted them to Lauryn’s wing.

            “Is she any better?” Brian asked, his eyes glistening under the bright lights.

            I shook my head. “No change, Rok,” I replied, laying my hand on his cheek.

            One by one the guys went in to see Lauryn, each returning to the lobby with shock, sorrow, or anger defined on their faces. Nick cuddled me in his arms as we waited. “If I ever find the fucker that did this to her and to us, I will fucking kill him,” Nick muttered through clenched teeth.

 

Brian:

 

            I held Lauryn’s lifeless hand in mine, the tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know if she could hear me, but I talked anyway. “Lauryn, I love you. I love you with all my heart and I want to marry you, have kids with you, grow old with you,” I whispered. I knew others would be waiting to see her before visiting hours expired so I kissed Lauryn’s broken lip lightly and stroked her cheek with my thumb. “I love you.” I left the room, gazing at Lauryn through my tear-filled eyes as I closed the door.

 

Kevin:

 

            I walked into Lauryn’s room, my chin quivering from unexpressed emotion. I sat next to her bed and stroked her arm. “Why did you have to go and do this to me? Just when I think I have everything figured out, you do this!” I cried as I stared into her wounded face. I pressed her palm to my face and kissed it. A tear dripped off my nose and ran down her arm. I still loved her. I thought that Ming Li had erased any remaining feeling I had for Lauryn, but I was just fooling myself. I couldn’t delete the love that quickly.

            “Kevin,” a voice said from the doorway. I turned to see who stood in the doorframe, and saw Shea and Nick. “Visiting hours are over except for family,” Shea whispered.

            “Okay,” I croaked. I kissed Lauryn’s forehead gently and followed Nick and Shea back down the hall to rejoin the rest of the clan.

            “I reserved two rooms, a double and a single, at the Holiday Inn for whomever would like them. Anyone else can stay at the apartment,” Ms. Matthews stated, wiping her nose with her ever-present Kleenex. “I’m staying here with Lauryn.”

            “Thanks, Donna,” Shea said, kissing Ms. Matthews’ cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

            We watched Donna turn and walk back into the hospital and toward Lauryn’s room. “I’ll stay at the hotel,” I stated, hailing a cab.

            “Yeah, me too,” Howie said solemnly, joining me on the curb. Soon, it was decided that Brian, Howie, and I would stay at the hotel while AJ, Nick, and Shea stayed at the apartment. We said good night and parted for the evening, all of us exhausted from the traumatic day.