AN: Finally updated this section, wahoo! Silence is golden, feedback is platinum... send me some email lovin'... And Happy Holidays to everyone! inspiredthoughts@hotmail.com ********************** Nightmare of a Lifetime: Chapter Four ********************** Nicole Perry stared in alarm at the surging crowd of screaming teenagers. Three chose that moment to saunter past, talking a mile a minute and wearing clothes that would make Britney Spears blush. "Is that a THONG?" she demanded of an amused camera man. "Yup." Perry looked at him in disbelief. "She was eleven if she was a day!" "Yup." "Parents let their children out of the house like that these days?" Bill gave his boss a quick once over, from baggy cargo pants with showing No Fear boxers, to tank top, arm bands, jewlery, heavy make up, tattoos, and bright red hair. "Yup." Dark eyes narrowed in annoyance. "You suck." Bill chuckled, cackled, merrily. "Yup." "Sweet Mother... this is insane." They threaded their way through the crowd. Bill, normally, would have been nervous as hell walking around with a MTV camera at a *NSYNC concert while wearing prominent all access passes around his neck but the crowd, pressed as it was, gave them space. Or, more to the point, gave Nicole Perry a wide berth that he was simply included in. As crazy as pop fans got, they couldn't hold a candle to the reality of Nicole Perry. Bill was slowly starting to see why she was picked for this particular job. That and because she was as funny as hell. "I swear to all that is holy and Ozz Fest itself that Malcom is friggin gonna pay for this. Do you know how much street credit I loose just by being here?" she demanded of no one in particular as they walked down and through the aisles. More grumbling came through as they worked their way closer and closer to the stage until they were stopped politely by ushers and shown their seats. Nicole stared at the seats the usher pointed to, then the stage, before promptly folding her tattooed arms across her breast and glaring. "No freaking way. No way in hell or earth or hell on earth am I sitting in first row seats at a Backstreet Boys concert!" There was a lull as shocked fans stared at the MTV VJ for a long moment before one girl ventured in an outraged, tearful voice, "This is a *NSYNC concert!" Perry blinked as the suddenly hostile fans leered at her. "Oh same thing," she said with an absent wave. Another ripple of dismay ripped through the now attentive crowd. The same girl spoke up again. "How could you?! I mean the two bands are, like, TOTALLY different. The music, the style, that's so wrong I want to cry!" Several sympathetic fans pulled her into a sisterly embrace as they stroked her back and glared irately at the exasperated Perry. Bill was crying he was laughing so hard as he filmed. Perry counted to ten, slowly, and resisted the urge to crack her knuckles, a nasty fidget she had picked up from Jack Osbourne years ago that drove Ozzy crazy. "Kids, I'm sure there's a very big difference. Umm, I'm going to my seat now." And with that graceful exit line she slipped grumpily into their prominent front row seats as the rows of fans around them stared on with heavy disapproval. "Good Lord, you'd think I mixed up Ziggy Stardust and Boy George the way they took that..." Perry grumbled to herself. She glanced over when a snort met her remark. Bill had collapsed in his chair, shaking camera in hand. "I love my job," he managed through wheezes. Perry growled savagely and defiantly put her booted feet up on the crowd control railing. "You're not even gonna stand up and cheer a little?" Bill said with a shit eating grin. "Jump off a cliff." Her dark eyes were drawn towards the stage as the lights dimmed and suddenly surged as thousands of teenage girls screamed loud enough to bring down the rafters. Perry sighed and sank deeper into her seat as roving spotlights revealed five figures in ridiculous amounts of makeup and clothes that looked like they were made out of saran wrap. The speakers barely made the opening music heard over the deafening screams. Looking around at the gaudy special effects, cheesy dancing, and over enthusiastic fans, Perry cursed soundly. "I hate my job." Bill laughed again and kept filming. *************************************************************************************** Perry was in a bad mood by the time the concert was over. Not only had she just wasted two hours of her life, she had a pounding headache and "Bye Bye Bye" stuck on repeat in her head. Better and better, was the thought of getting to do this every night for the next three months. Joy. Rapture. She could hardly contain her excitement. "Smile Boss," called a still amused camera man. She glowered as they waited for the arena to be cleared before moving with an agonizingly slow pace towards backstage. "You need less Prozac," Perry muttered over her shoulder. Backstage, when the finally reached it through the mountains of hired muscle, was a nightmare of wailing fans and frazzled technicians. Nicole could catch sight of sweat soaked boy band members as they raced around, signing autographs, toweling off, eating off of tables of snacks, snapping pictures, laughing, screaming. In other words, it was a less R-rated version of any hard rock concert backstage. Minus the groupies giving favors in the nearest darkest corner. Though she had little doubt there was that too. Perry was young, but hardly naive. She had grown up on the streets and been seasoned during Ozz Fest. She knew how poverty, fame, and fortune worked for all involved. After watching the mayhem for an impatient minute or two she sighed and went up to the nearest bodyguard. She tapped him on one huge muscled shoulder. "Dan, where's the van back to the hotel?" Dan glanced down, and then down some more, somewhat surprised to see the newest member of the "crew" talking to him, talking and knowing his name with ease. Most of the big personalities didn't bother with the regular crew, let alone with distinguishing the particular bodyguards, unless they wanted to use them to get to the boys. But Perry had all access. She didn't need to get on his or any of the other guards' good sides but he would have bet money she knew each and every guard's name. "What's wrong Ms. Perry?" She wrinkled her petite nose in distaste and sighed as she pinched the bridge between her lovely dark eyes. "Nothing, this is just, well, not really my scene. Screw the "interview". I'm trapped in this madhouse for three months. I think the show will survive without it." Dan glanced at Bill who shrugged before trying to talk to her. "Perry, you know the game plan... First concert, first official interview, first reaction etc etc. You and Malcom had it all planned out." She glared at the camera man. "Malcom had it planned out. And the bastard popped first row seats on me. I wanted second balcony at least. More fan interaction and less spotlight work. It would have cool to be less conspicuous before we stared airing the show but now every teenie site on the Internet is gonna have us red flagged at every venue from now on. I may not like this gig but I try to do my job. He messes with my plans. I mess with his. I have a headache and I wanna go wait in the damned van. Now Dan, where is it, now please." Dan glanced at Bill again but his eyes were drawn to the imperious woman. He liked her, even though he hadn't thought he would the first day she was introduced to them all about a week ago when they were still starting to get ready for tour. But over the days as they all got use to each other and geared up for the tour, he had seen how she interacted with people. Nicole Perry was all business. She was caustic, biting, and demanding, but she demanded the same behavior, had the same expectations, for everyone. Few people measured up but her standards were universal and he found her blunt honesty refreshing. "Its out back Ms. Perry. I'll take you. I wouldn't want you to get swarmed by fans. They get kinda excited sometimes." "Ya think?" she asked with a wry thankful grin. Nicole reached up and linked arms with the big bodyguard who was a solid foot and a half and several hundred pounds heavier than she was. "My knight in shining... spandex." Dan laughed as she tugged on his muscle shirt. "Call me Perry and drop the Ms. I'm not my mother." The laugh turned into a chuckle as Bill, who had been taping the whole exchange, quietly acknowledged the bitter double edge to her last careless comment. Perry certainly wasn't her mother, thank god, for all involved. *************************************************************************************** *NSYNC poured into the van with a rush, still on an adrenaline high from their first performance of the tour, and their hometown of Orlando at that. The doors were slammed in the faces of screaming fans who had hung out after the show, and, after chattering for several excited minutes, *NSYNC turned their collective attentions to the sullen young woman who was currently squished in the front row of seats between the van's window and a very hyper Chris. "So," drawled Joey from behind her as he draped himself across the back of her seat as a very amused Bill taped from the front seat, "whatdya think?" Nicole straightened up from her slouch, cast a careless glare at the five eager and smirking pop stars, before sweetly singing, "God should have spent a LOT more time on you." Bill laughed so hard he dropped the camera.