He hadnt woken up next to anyone so assumed he hadnt had sex. At least I hope not Nick thought to himself as he tried to recall his actions. He suddenly remembered three separate girls. The UK artist, Javine being one of them. Nick closed his eyes and groaned at himself-remembering that he had made out with her, and then had his hand firmly up another girls shirt in the club he had been in. Nick was absorbed with shame over his alcohol induced behaviour. He turned to lie on his back and stared at the ceiling in a pinching sadness.
I cant keep doing this Nick admitted to himself finally. He knew his break-up with Paris, and things having gone completely wrong with Heather had increased his drinking, both privately and socially. He knew his experiences had lead his opinion of women to drop-he saw himself last night and then himself lying in his bed. They were two entirely different people. Nick Carter-rock star, pop star, Backstreet Boy gone bad. But lying in this bed was just Nick- a guy in his mid-twenties who acted like a kid and hid his insecurities well.
Sure it had been fun for a while Nick thought to himself, but now he felt bored, as if his drunken antics could not satisfy him anymore. He wanted to have fun sober and to have the intimacy he experienced not be fumbles and awkward and quick. Tears nearly found his eyes when he tried to remember the last time he felt a connection with a woman, a certain level of not just physical intimacy but emotional too. Heather He whispered out loud disappointedly. He couldnt escape it now. The party was over and he had to pick up the pieces he had been avoiding for about a year now.
Nick sat up and stretched with his quilt still around his naked waist. He eyed the clock, and saw he had just over an hour to be ready for the long morning of radio interviews-questions about the new album, the dying of the boy band, and more often than not, Paris Hilton. How could he forget when he was being constantly reminded? He was happy for the opportunity to bad-mouth her but enough was enough. He pushed all his negative thoughts from his mind, and saw the funny side in Brians ruined shirt and laughed. But Brian wasnt going to see it that way. That shirt had cost him one hundred dollars.
After having a shower, Nick soaked the shirt and hung it up on the shower rail to drip dry, in hopes that would clean it a little until he could have access to a washing machine. He dressed in the same jeans, and decided when he got a moment to, that he was going to ring American Airways again. He pondered over the possibility that he would be back in the USA by the time his suitcases were sent over the water. He chose a sweater of AJs to wear as the sun did not greet him when he drew back the curtains. But Nick smiled-it wasnt a trip to London unless it rained at least once, so he was pleased.
Aside a few bitter moments of talk of Paris, Nick felt his day went without too much of a hitch. Kevin didnt lecture him too badly, Brian hadnt asked about his shirt, and his early morning thoughts had not haunted him. He had listened to them, but had firmly decided they were to not spoil his European trip. Change was positive, and he remembered advice from a year ago about embracing and challenging whatever issues that were presented to him. He was content to make ripples in the water, but not waves.
