--prologue--
Marathon, Florida: March, 2002
"It's a hip-hop club, Nick." Brent pointed out. He was looking skeptically at his friend. They were standing outside a booming nightclub in Marathon, Florida. The crowd that waited in line was a mix of Latin and black nationalities. It wasn't the typical establishment the two frequented when they were out partying. Brent couldn't imagine fitting in with the crowd- the rock-listening white boys from Tampa stood out like sore thumbs.

"So?" Hands in the pockets of his jeans, Nick looked anxiously at the club, bouncing in time with the music. Obviously the guys weren't on the same wavelength. Either that, or Nick was totally oblivious to the fact that he was the only person with blonde hair and blue eyes within miles. Knowing Nick, either situation was more then likely probable.

"What the hell do we know about hip-hop?" Asked Brent.

"Hey, speak for yourself." Nick sounded almost offended. "I've been to a P. Diddy party. Multiple times even. Outkast rapped on one of my songs- the Neptunes even remixed it."

"The Neptunes also produced for Britney-fucking-Spears, Nick. You're in a fucking boy band. Just because you got someone to do graffiti art for your last CD doesn't mean you have street cred." Brent was always the voice of reason. And always willing to rag on his childhood best friend. "We're not going to fit in here."

Nick shrugged. "That's exactly why we should go in. Live a little. Experience new things."

"You don't have a bodyguard here to protect your ass," reminded Brent.

In response, Nick rolled his eyes. "Come on, Brent. Its just a club. They're just people. They're not going to care that we're white. We're just looking to have a good time, just like they are."

With that, Nick took off, marching right inside the club. Sighing, Brent ran to catch up. "Fine. But Kevin is going to be pissed beyond belief if you get arrested again."

Inwardly, Nick groaned. Kevin. One of the many reasons Nick was so eager to enter that club- to forget about Kevin and all the other shit that was going on in his life. Its not that he was mad at Kevin. After AJ's stint in rehab and the catastrophe on September 11th, all the guys had been closer then ever before. And maybe that was part of the problem. Nick was only twelve when he joined the Backstreet Boys. He was now twenty-two. Ten years. Ten amazing years, but ten years nonetheless. It was one helluva long time.

Brent thought the reason they were vacationing in the Keys was because Nick was stressed. Which was true- but it was really only part of the problem. Nick was scared. Scared to death. The press were hinting at the demise of pop music. Black and Blue was critically inferior to Millennium. The Boys had their fair share of bad press the past year- AJ entering rehab and Nick's own stupid arrest. The rest of their career depended on the album they were in the process of recording. If they failed, their fifteen minutes of fame would be over with. Fame was all Nick had strived for his entire life. Scary thing to think that at twenty-two, your life's dream could be gone forever.

Normal twenty-two-year-olds didn't have to deal with this. Normal twenty-two-year-olds got arrested for non-violently resisting police all the time and no one gave a damn. Normal twenty-two-year-olds would be on Spring Break right now. But Nick wasn't the normal twenty-two-year-old. But for this one night, Nick wanted to pretend he was. He wanted to go to a club where he wouldn't hear his own voice being spun by a DJ, and he wanted to have a good time. Was that too much to ask for?

"Maybe this club wasn't such a bad idea," Brent murmured. They were standing on the edge of the dance floor, soaking in the atmosphere. And for Brent, that meant eyeing the curvaceous Puerto Rican girl in a scantily-clad outfit standing just to his right.

Nick stopped to check the girl out. Not bad...she definitely has a way with the dance moves, he thought as he watched the girl grind her hips in small, sexy circles. But... "Brent, you have a girlfriend."

Brent shrugged. Then, with a smile on his face he said, "You know the saying: whatever happens at Spring Break- stays at Spring Break."
 
At that moment, a large black man approached the girl in question. He paused for a moment, shooting Brent and Nick a look. Then he proceeded to wrap his arms possessively around the voluptuous girl and lead her away.

"Damn. I guess that answers that question," Brent muttered, watching his dream girl walk away with another man. "Did you see that guy? He was HUGE! He looked like one of your bodyguards, Nick."

But Nick wasn't paying attention any longer. Something completely different had caught his attention. A group of girls, gathered around the bar. There were four of them. College-aged, but on the young side. They, like Nick and Brent, stuck out amongst the crowd of blacks and Hispanics. They were Asian, but Nick couldn't decipher from which country they originated. He wished he'd paid more attention on the last Asian tour.

But that one girl. She held his interest more than most. She sat on the bar, while the other stood or were perched on stools. Her jet-black hair hung straight to the middle of her back, clipped back with gold flowered barrettes. She wore a denim tube top with a gold metallic flower attached invitingly over her left breast. Tiny gold hot pants left her legs bare, except for the simple open-toed gold heels she wore on her feet. And her legs- damn, were they shiny. She looked like she had bathed in baby oil before heading out for the night. This was not the Abercrombie-and-Fitch-wearing teenybopper who showed up at Backstreet Boys concerts. Nor was it the tall, lanky blonde Nick normally fell for. And maybe that was part of the attraction. Because that night, Nick yearned for a dramatic departure from his everyday life.

Brent's interest was also peaked by the exotic-looking girls at the bar. "Girl-on-girl body shots? Damn, we HAVE to get a piece of that action. Let's go talk to them."

Nick didn't object. He followed his friend silently across the room, not listening as Brent ramble on about what a great club they were at. Nick's eyes were glued on the girl as she licked salt off her friend's neck, chugged a shot, and sucked lime out of another girl's mouth. Damn, this girl is perfect.

The girls stopped when Nick and Brent appeared before them. This was the part he'd never been very good at: the pick-up line. Nick wasn't good with words to begin with, and the added pressure of addressing a girl he'd never met only added more flame to the fire. Brent had begun to say something, but it was going in one of Nick's ears, and out the other. All he could focus on was that amazing girl standing before him.

He stared directly at the girl, and began to speak. He didn't care that he was interrupting Brent. "Do you want to dance?"

She made eye contact with Nick for the first time. And for some reason, it was different then normal. After years in the spotlight, Nick had begun to pick up on a familiar look in a girl's eye- a spark of recognition. But the mystery girl's eyes showed none of that. Was it possible that she didn't realize who he was?

"Slow down there, just a minute." She addressed Nick. "Did you guys just show up?"

All Nick could do was nod. First she doesn't recognize me, now she's avoiding dancing with me? Maybe this club was a bad idea.

"Have a shot," She instructed. She motioned to the friend sitting on her right. Understanding the silent message, the girl hopped off the stool and went to stand by Brent. Mystery girl patted the now-empty stool beside her. Cautiously, Nick sat
down. Mystery girl leaned down, her mouth at Nick's ear level. "Then we'll dance."

The shot was a daze for Nick: a foggy memory of utter happiness. He leaned in to lick the salt off her warm copper skin. She knew he was interested in her, and was milking the situation for everything that it was worth. She had him lick the soft skin just barely above the line of her top. When his tongue first touched her skin, she leaned her head back, as if in ecstasy. Fine by Nick. The motion caused her back to arch, pushing more of the swell of her breast to his lips. A few moments later, when he went in for the lime, she just happened to accidentally drop it, and Nick was forced to suckle on her bottom lip instead.

Abruptly, she stood up and hopped to the floor. She took Nick's hand, interlacing his fingers with her own. He wasn't sure how tall she was, but with heels on, her head came up to his chin-level. She gave his hand a squeeze. "Now, we dance."

They made their way onto the dance floor. The crowds seemed to separate just for them, like the parting of the Red Sea. They found a spot near the middle of the dance floor. Their bodies interlocked instantly. She straddled one of his thighs, her arms around his neck. He placed his arms around her waist. She didn't seem to like that, and moved them instead to her butt. Their pelvis' moved as one, circling to the rhythm of the music.

She clung to him, pressing her body closer to his. He buried his nose in her silky smooth hair. The atmosphere on the floor was intense. The club was dark and smoky, but the room smelled of sweat and passion. And jasmine. She must be wearing jasmine perfume.

"What's your name? Nick asked.

"Britney," she replied. Her voice was sweet but mellow, low and sexy and full of lust. She looked at him now, making eye contact. "Britney Spears. It’s a good thing you showed up here tonight, because I just broke up with Justin, and I'm planning to sleep my way through the blonde-haired boy band heartthrobs. I was going to go for Ashley Angel first, but since you're here, I figured you'll do instead."

He had to laugh. "So you do know who I am."

"Of course I do, dummy," She teased. "I've seen your face every day on MTV for the past five or six years."

"Most people react differently when they recognize me," Nick tried to explain without sounding cocky. "A little more excited."

"To be truthful, I'm not really a fan." She said bluntly. "And I wouldn't care if you're a singer or a carpenter. This is my first time at Spring Break, and I'm just looking to have a good time."

She looked at Nick with a sly smile across her pouty lips. "And you, Nick Carter, are the most fuckworthy guy in here."

Wow. This girl continued to blow Nick away. He couldn't help but wonder what she'd do next. "What's your real name?"

"Malu," she replied. This time, Nick knew by the expression on her face that she was sincere.

"It's pretty," he murmured, kissing the hollow in between her collarbone. "What language is that?"

"Tagalog," she breathed. But Malu could tell by the clueless expression on Nick's face that he didn't have a clue what she was talking about. "Filipino. Tagalog is the language spoken in the Philippines."

"Oh," he nodded his head. "Well, Malu, I have a house here- on the other side of the island. Hot tub, waterbed..."

Malu shook her head. "Uh-uh."

Another surprise for Nick. "But I thought you said-"

"I'm not looking for you to romance me, Nick. I'm horny- I just want hot sex. I have a hotel room around the corner, we can go there." Nick agreed, and the two scampered off the dance floor in the blink of an eye.

Brent was still at the bar with Malu's three friends. Nick tossed his keys at his best friend. "Take these- I probably won't be making it home tonight. Just don't break anything!"

Brent was laughing as the two dashed out the side entrance.

They walked at a fast pace, not saying anything, just holding hands. What was there to say? Luckily, the walk didn't take long. Her hotel, if you could even call it that, was literally right around the corner. The building was old and hadn't been taken care of very carefully. Walking through the doorway, Nick breathed in a rank, musty odor. But it didn't seem to bother him. Every other girl he'd ever been with would have never been down with having sex in such a run-down building. Not when he had a multi-million dollar home just a few minutes away. But Malu wasn't like those other girls, and this, Nick knew, was going to be a night unlike any other.

The hotel room looked very much like those he'd seen on MTV's Spring Break Undercover. Two queen-size beds, empty liquor bottles strewn on tables. Skirts, underwear, cosmetics and other girlie products were flung about carelessly. It looked like a hurricane had swept through the room.

The mess didn't seem to embarrass Malu, or if it did, it didn't show. As soon as the door was open, she began stripping off her clothes. She kicked off her shoes first, then shimmied out of her shorts. Her tube top went next, as she threw it over her shoulder. Standing in only a strapless black bra and a matching thong, she began to unbutton Nick's jeans.

"Do you have a condom?" Nick asked. "I wasn't exactly expecting this tonight."

Malu went to one of the suitcases, rummaging through its contents. She located a box of condoms, but to both their dismay, it was empty. "The girls must have raided it for their purses tonight."

Nick glanced at his watch. "Its still early. There must be a twenty-four hour drug store somewhere on this island."

Malu shook her head. "I can't wait that long. STDs: I'm clean, are you?"

He nodded. "But what about-"

"I'm on the pill," she explained.

"I don't know," Nick was nervous. The pill wasn't 100% foul proof, was it?

Malu stepped closer to Nick. She took his hands and placed them on her body, letting them cup her breasts. "I'll get the morning-after pill tomorrow, okay?"

This wasn't like Nick. Sure, he'd had one-night stands before. But never without a condom. But there was a half-naked girl standing in front of him who he found itself.

"Fuck it. Let's go," he said, tearing his shirt off his head.

---

Los Angeles, California: June, 2002

"You coming, Nick?" AJ asked. They were at a photo shoot for the new album. They'd just gotten out of wardrobe, and were now headed towards the make-up trailer.

"Go on without me," Nick said. He was fiddling with the buttons on his cell phone. "I'm just going to check my messages."

"Alright buddy. But don't take too long- Kev's been looking to tear someone's head off today."

Nick shooed his band mate on. Pressing the phone to his ear, he strained to hear the voice.

"Nick? Hi. Um...I don't know if you remember me," Nick couldn't pick out the voice right away, but it did sound familiar.
Sweet and mellow...but a little unsure of itself and nervous. "My name is Malu Almajose. We met over Spring Break three months ago, in Marathon."

Nick smiled. Of course he remembered Malu. It had been an amazing night. When he woke up the next morning, he almost asked for her phone number. But just before he could, she'd spoken up. "Nothing like a little Spring Break fucking."

"Tell me," he asked, trying to mask his disappointment. "Why'd you head to the Keys for Break? Don't most college kids head for Cancun and MTV?"

"You've seemed to forgotten, Nick dear," she purred in that I've-just-been-fucked voice. "I'm not most college kids."

"I've tried to get a hold of you several times, but your phone has always been off or busy," Malu's phone message brought Nick out of his memory. "I would have gotten a hold of you sooner...but I had a lot of trouble getting your phone number."

How did she get this number? he wondered. I never gave it to her.

"Thank God my little cousin is a teenybopper. She managed to find your number on the Internet. You should really be more concerned with your safety here..." She was rambling, and he knew it.

"Anyway," she continued. "I didn't want to tell you this in a message...but like I said, I haven't been able to get a hold of you otherwise.

"Nick, remember right before I slept with you, I made you promise that the sex would come no strings attached?" Yes, he remembered. She'd been proud of her little pun, so he didn't have the heart to tell her she had got the wrong band. "Well, looks like I forgot to cut one of those strings.

"Nick, I'm pregnant."

The world stood still, and those three little words seemed to repeat over and over in Nick's head. The message went on, and Malu gave him a number to call her at as soon as possible. Mindlessly, he pressed the save button and tucked the phone away. In a daze, he moved into the make-up trailer and took a seat in between AJ and Kevin.

"Who was that?" AJ asked.

"Huh?"

"Who was that on the phone, Nick?" AJ reiterated.

"Oh, no one."

AJ and Kevin exchanged a worried glance. They knew something was wrong. But years of practice had taught them to just let
Nick stew for awhile. He'd come to them for help when he was ready.

"Nick, I'm pregnant."

...to be continued...
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