Chapter Two:

Chapter Two: A Familar Face

I arrived at Madison Square Gardens just shortly before 6pm. The concert wasn't for two hours, so I surely had enough time to do an interview and mingle. I was still in awe that I got to meet the Backstreet Boys. I loved my job. I flashed my pass and walked around in the arena. There were a few reporters roaming about, but the fans and ticket holders wouldn't be let in until 6:30pm. I wandered about, looking through my folders and papers making sure I had everything I needed. I struggled to keep my shoulder pack around my body and over my arm. I entered the backstage area where I saw several people running about with headsets on. There were lights everywhere and some reporters lingered about. I'm sure they had been from local newspapers as well. I made my way around backstage until I could find someone to ask about interviewing the group. Kaylee set me up to talk to them around 7pm, so I was still early. I decided to ask a stagehand and she pointed in the direction of where the group supposedly was. I walked in that direction as I once again looked down at the papers I was fiddling with. I thought for a minute to myself:

˜I should have brought the other notebook.'
˜Damn, did I bring the info I needed?'
˜Oh well, I can always use that when I get back to the ---"

My thoughts were interrupted when I ran into something big and my papers were scattered everywhere on the floor.

"Ohmigosh!" I said loudly as I bent down to pick them up.
"I'm so sorry, I really am, I wasn't looking where I was going," the voice said. It was soft and caring, but manly and quite familiar. I was kneeling and picking up my papers as I looked up.

˜Ohmigod, it's Nick Carter,' I thought to myself.

"Hi, I'm Nick," he said, kneeling on the floor next to me and sticking out his right arm. I shook his hand slowly as I stared at him.
˜You're staring you idiot,' I thought as I shook myself out of my trance and concentrated on picking up the mess we'd made.

"Hi, I'm uh, I'm uh, Kate," I said, fumbling with the papers.
"I like that name," He said, smiling at me as if he could tell I was dumbfounded.
I giggled a little to myself.

After the papers were picked up we both stood up. He looked down and saw my press pass.

"The New York Times, hmm?" He asked curiously. As he stood straight up now he was quite tall. Much taller than me. He was at least six foot four and his shoulder were broad. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. His sandy-blonde hair was down to his ears and cut to lay perfectly on his bright blue eyes.
"Uh, yeah," I said, searching for words.
"Nick, whattcha up to?" I heard a voice come from behind him.
"Hi," Brian said, smiling at me.
"Brian, this is Kate. Kate, this is Brian Littrell," Nick said, standing back to let Brian shake my hand.
"Kate works for the New York Times," Nick said, staring at me.
"Duh, I can see that," Brian said, trying to embarrass his friend and bandmate. I giggled slightly.
Nick started to turn red.
"Yeah, I'm scheduled to do an interview with you at seven," I said. Brian was wearing a bright blue jersey and black pants. His hair was combed as usual and his eyes, even brighter than Nick's. He was a little taller than me, but not by much. He was half of Nick's size it seemed.
"Well that's cool. We'll be lookin' forward to that," Brian replied looking at Nick and then me.
"I gotta run, but you be nice to Nick now," he teasingly replied.
"And why wouldn't I be nice?" I inquisitively asked with a smirk.
"Well you got those killer looks and Nick falls hard for looks like that. Don't want him to hurt himself," Brian teased before patting Nick on the back and walking away with a smile the size of the Cheshire cat.
I blushed brightly and so did Nick.
"I think that was a compliment," I said, slightly covering my face.
He smiled down at me. His smile was warm and sweet as it curved slightly at the right-hand corner. His face looked soft and his eyes quite welcoming. His lips looked soft as I found myself staring at them. He noticed immediately and I looked away. We must have stood there studying each other for a matter of minutes when I heard someone calling my name.

"Katie girl, what's up!!" Phil yelled, walking up to me. Phil was a shorter man, slightly overweight with dark hair and a beard that was all stubble and no hair. He wore his hair a mess and a faded New York Yankees hat backwards to cover it. His black shirt was faded and his brown leather jacket torn. His faded blue jeans had tears at the bottom as he waltzed in with his camera equipment. Nick and I broke our gaze and both turned towards Phil.
"Kate, have I got a picture for you! There was this guy down on 5th and -"
"Phil, I'd like you to meet Nickolas Carter from the Backstreet Boys," I interrupted, stepping back for them to shake hands.
Nick smiled politely at the man who was nearly half his size.
Nick then looked at me, impressed that I knew his full name.
"Phil, why don't you go set up in the press room and I'll meet you there in a few," I offered nicely.
"It's right down there and the second door on the right," Nick said pointing.
"Hey thanks kid," Phil said, as he winked at me and walked away.
"He seems nice," Nick quietly said.
"Well, he's your typical born and raised New Yorker. He should be a cab driver, he has the guts for it," I teasingly said. He laughed slightly.
"So where are you from, obviously not New York," Nick started as we turned around and walked towards the press room.
"I was born and raised in California. I came out here not too long ago to work for the Times. Now me, Mutt and Shania live in my apartment and if I'm lucky I get off work in time to see Ally McBeal," I rambled a bit.
"Mutt and Shania?" Nick asked, laughing.
"Mutt's my golden retriever and Shania's my mainecoon cat," I informed him with a smile.
"That's cute," he said as he recalled the wife and husband team of Mutt Lange and Shania Twain. He knew them personally. But he probably didn't realize I already knew this and I had for some time.
"Do you mind if I ask you some questions? I have a recorder so I don't have to ask you to repeat things over and over or anything," I giggled.
"Sure, go ahead," he said, leaning against the doorway.
"Okay, let's just continue on with the conversation we were having. Casual," I added.
"Okay, where was I?" He said, scratching his blonde hair.
"My apartment," I said, it didn't really come out right. He smiled.
We continued to walk on.
"So it gets pretty lonely, huh?" He asked as we approached the press room. Brian and A.J. were talking to another local newspaper.
"Yeah, I guess. But doesn't it get lonely on the road for you?" I asked, already knowing the answer. I'd been studying these things for years in school and reporting about it for a while now.
"Yeah, I guess. I try to see my family," he quietly said.
We turned to see A.J. and Brian singing acapella for the reporters for the ten o'clock news. I smiled.
"If I said something would it be off the record?" Nick suddenly asked.
"Depends what it is. I can turn this recorder on or off." I teasingly answered as I held the recorder tightly in my right hand.

He leaned in and put his mouth near my ear. I felt a sensation shoot up my spine and right to my heart. A chill went over my body as I longed for him to touch me.

"I just wanted to say that I think you're really beautiful," he whispered in my ear.

I hit stop on the recorder. Just as I was going to say something A.J. approached us. Nick came away from my ear and stood back. Nick and A.J. exchanged glances with one another.

"A.J., this is Kate, she's from the New York Times," Nick informed. "Hey's what's up?" The thin tattooed Alexander James McLean asked. He wore his usual pair of sunglasses with the dark lenses, but not too dark, I could still see his inquiring eyes. He was wearing a white wife beater and some baggy blue jeans. His hair was how it was when I saw him back in the Millennium days and his goatee was cut with perfection as usual.

"Nothing, it is nice to meet you," I replied withprofessionalism.
"You gonna interview us tonight?" He asked, studying me with certain preciseness. Nick looked agitated.
"Yeah she is, in about twenty minutes," Nick answered with a slight hint of anger. A.J. got the hint.
"Well, it was nice meeting you and we'll see you later," he said, as he tipped his sunglasses to Nick before walking away.

Brian noticed Nick and I from inside and smiled at me gently.

"Thank you," I said, pulling Nick away from the doorway and into the hall.
"For what?" he asked playing dumb.
"For the compliment, thank you," I said, as I heard it over and over in my ear. The tingle went up my spine again as I smiled to myself.
"You're welcome. Are you staying for the concert?" He asked with a hopeful tone.
"Yes, of course! I wouldn't miss it. Besides I have a midnight deadline for this review."
"Oh really, well I was hoping you'd join the others and I for some coffee or a drink after the concert," he sadly replied.
"Hey, that's fine. I have my trusty laptop with me. I write it as it's happening. And I have the weekend to do the article with the interview I'm going to conduct in about ten minutes," I said, looking at my watch.
"Well if you use your laptop, you're going to miss the show," he replied.
"Yeah that's true. But I'll just have to come see another one," I answered back, smiling with a determined look in my eye.
"Yeah, you will. But won't your boyfriend miss you if you're out with us tonight?" He inquisitively asked. Gosh, men could be pathetic, even Nick Carter. But I couldn't blame him for asking.
"I don't have a boyfriend. What about your girlfriend?" I shot back.
"Well, I wouldn't happen to have one," he smiled as he put his arm up on the wall behind me.
"Okay, then I guess there's no problem. Now if you don't mind, I'd like you to gather your bandmates together so I can conduct my interview Mr. Carter," I sarcastically said with a smile.
"Yes ma'am," he said, saluting me and walking away.


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