March 25th, 1998
Gothenburg, Sweden

“OK, you can take a break while we reload,” the photographer said in his thick European accent.

Thank God, my cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much. I walked away from the large bubble chair that was positioned in the middle of a white backdrop and made a beeline for the snack table. My stomach was practically eating itself from lack of food.

To say that I’ve been busy would be a huge understatement. I was running around whatever dang city we drove to as if my head was cut off, bouncing around from radio interviews, magazine interviews, TV interviews, appearances, signings, small shows, and oodles of promotion. If I wasn’t doing that I was using any free time I had to eat, catch up on sleep, and try to be as normal as possible.

My single had dropped in stores a couple of days ago and now I get recognized in a lot of places. It’s a weird transition, seeing your face everywhere. Kinda freaks me out on some occasions but it comes with the territory. Aunt Abbey doesn’t pass up the chance to take pictures or video tape anything I’m doing. She’s almost as bad as Dad is.

I barely even had any time to spend with my own band, let alone find some time to hang out with the Boys and Aaron, I bet that Mandy girl liked that I was out of the way, though. Ever since she announced that she was going to join the guys on tour to see how everything worked it was as if she wanted to keep tabs on me or something. She kept saying something about needing to get used to the pace of everything but I tuned her out whenever she started speaking.

It was weird, she kinda reminded me of Bobbie by the way she glared at me whenever I said something, gave my two cents in a conversation, or specifically asked Nick a question. As far as I knew they weren’t dating or were friends with benefits or anything but she had her claws sunk into him so tight if she were to ever let go he’d have permanent scars in his arm. How did I always manage to attract trouble?

“So, how’m I doing?” I asked Liam as he held out a water bottle to me. He was grinning from ear-to-ear like a proud parent. I guess I was kinda seeing him as a second dad now. He always had my best interest in mind

“You’re amazing, as usual,” he replied.

I waved my hand at his words as I swallowed. “Stop, my head’s going to swell. It’s not going to photograph well.”

“Nice rhyme,” he said while lightly slapping my arm with rolled up paper. “I have a question though. How come you haven’t taken that off?” He asked, nodding towards the thick, colorful string bracelet around my right wrist. The scars underneath it started to itch from the question alone. “It doesn’t really go well with some of the other outfits you’ve tried on.”

What do I do? What do I do? Damage control. OK, change the subject. “How can you pay attention to my wrist when I’m working it up here?” I asked with a snap for emphasis.

“You’re crazy.”

“I take that as a compliment.” I walked past him to a fold-up director’s chair that was placed by the window of the warehouse we were shooting in. I sat down in the chair with a sigh. I reached down and unhooked the little straps of the heels that I was wearing, smiling at the feeling of relief that spread through me as soon as the heels came off. I rubbed the sole of one foot and propped my feet up on the window sill. Europe was a very beautiful place. Each country had something special about it and, so far, I really liked Sweden. I couldn’t understand anyone to save my life but I liked the sights.

Just looking out at the cityscape relaxed me. I could feel my stress levels starting to rise over the past couple of days as well as the feeling of a rock sitting on my chest. Ever since I had that freak asthma attack or whatever it was on my first night I tried to figure out what caused it but I had no clue. It was enough for me to make sure I stayed as calm as possible so it didn’t happen again. Looking back, it would’ve been smart to tell Aunt Abbey as soon as it happened but I kept my mouth shut. Why worry here when she was already worried about being away from her two kids?

But she wasn’t the only one with something to worry about. Dad and Mike had called me during my first break, separately. Mike said to call him back as soon as I heard Dad’s message and that tipped me off that something was up almost immediately. I then listened to Dad’s message carefully and then called him. He started out with small talk but I could tell by his voice that there was something he wanted to say.

“What is it that you need to tell me?” I asked once the formalities were out of the way.

Dad laughed softly. He was never one to laugh out loud. “Always cutting to the chase, huh?”

I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me. “You take too long to get to the point.” I made a face at the woman who was pulling at my hair and spraying hairspray on it. I quickly switched to French so we wouldn’t be overheard. “What’s going on?” I asked.

I could hear Dad’s sigh. “Your mother,” he paused as if the words were paint on his tongue. “Charlotte came to me with a question regarding their wedding.”

“They want you to be photographer? It’s cheap for them so I’d say you should do it. Save Mom a bunch of money,” I told him, wincing as a comb was suddenly pulled through my hair.

“It’s not that, sweetie,” Dad said. I could practically see him rolling a coin across his knuckles as he did when he was nervous.

“Then what is it?”

“When Charlotte and Mike get married, he’s going to be your step-father.”

“I’m quite aware of how the legal system works, Dad.”

“Mike called you, right?”

“Yeah. What was that about?”

“He and I—now we want you to take as much time as you want to think about this—but he—we—wanted you to consider your options.”

“Dad, what are you getting at? What options?” I asked, waving Liam away who was pointing at his watch. Geeze, breathe down my neck why don’t you?

“Mike wants to adopt you.”

“What?—Ow!” I was so shocked that I had jerked away from the lady who was combing my hair and she yanked it pretty hard. I gave her an apologetic smile and managed to stay still. “What?” I repeated, quieter this time. I must’ve misheard him.

“Mike wants to adopt you,” Dad replied, his voice very quiet. “That would mean that I wouldn’t have legal custody over you anymore. While you may still call me your dad I’d legally just be known as the guy who raised you. To put it on a bigger scale, I wouldn’t necessarily be considered ‘family’ if you were ever placed in the hospital for some reason.”

“No,” I said firmly.

“At least think about it—“

“No!” I repeated. How could they talk about this without me being present? I felt dazed. How could my own dad do this to me? “I don’t need to think about anything! I won’t let you give away custody, just like that. You’re my dad, not him! He’ll never be my dad!”

I could feel myself shaking with rage and I could practically see the looks that the hairdressers were giving each other at my outburst. It was a good thing they didn’t understand me. The rock-like feeling settled on m chest again and I took a deep breath to try and break it up.

The rest of the conversation was a blur. I remember Dad saying that I didn’t mean what I said and that I should talk to Mike and that he’d call back later. I don’t remember saying bye and going back to work but the pictures were proof that I did.

“Want some water?” Aunt Abbey asked, holding a waterbottle at me.

I shook my head. “What I want is to call Justin but you guys are being vraiment ridicule with this stupid lockdown thing.” They claimed that I was on the phone with Justin all the time so now I’m not allowed to call him more than once every three days. But I needed to call him today! I had to talk to him about my dad and congratulate them on their US album release today. They were acting as if I were addicted to him or something.

“We’re doing it for your own good,” Aunt Abbey said while. I rolled my eyes. Whatever. I waited until Aunt Abbey was out of earshot and pulled out my phone, grinning wickedly. They never said I couldn’t call any of the others. I whistled a tuneless tune while I waited for the phone to pick up. “Hello, hello,” I said cheerfully.

“Hey!” Lance said, equally cheerful.

“Happy release day. I know I’m a day late.”

“Thank you, much,” Lance replied in his drawl which always made me smile. “We’re still excited for the release. Justin and Chris are practically bouncing off the walls and JC’s become like a hermit, worrying about how we’re going to do.”

Typical JC. “Tell him to take a chill pill. You guys will do great.” Like usual. I squashed the bitter thought and only allowed good ones in. “Where are you guys headed next.”

“I think Canada. And before you say anything we can’t fly you there. No matter how much I miss you.”

“Awww. Lancie, you just turned my day around.”

“Why? What’s up?” I could practically see his white-blonde eyebrows knitting together. Note to self, never let Lance or Justin near hair dye unsupervised. I let out a breath and launched into the whole story about Mike and Dad and the wedding and giving over custody. Lance, being the loyal friend he is, stayed silent the entire time and let me rant as much as I wanted until my voice started to get hoarse.

“May I say something or did you just want me to listen?” Lance asked as soon as I stopped talking.

“Go ahead. Was I in the wrong?”

“Well…” Lance drew the word out. “Yes and no.”

“Waddya mean by that?” I asked. I figured Lance would take my side in this situation.

“I mean…you could’ve been nicer about it,” he said slowly, carefully picking his words to make sure I didn’t jump down his throat. Smart guy, Lance is. I wanted to reach into the phone and strangle him. But this was Lance, he always told me what I didn’t want to hear and he didn’t mince his words. “I understand that the divorce is hard. I understand that you’re still not over it despite you always claiming that you’re fine with it and that you’re happy that your parents are happy but Mike and your parents just want things to go as smoothly as possible. Mike isn’t trying to replace your dad. No one could ever do that, no matter how many times your parents get remarried. He loves you, I can see it every time he looks at you. You have to give him a chance.”

“He wants me to give permission to adopt me,” I reminded him.

“Well, do you want him to adopt you? Don’t even think about it; just say ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

“No,” I replied almost instantly. “By him asking I know it’s like he sees me as my daughter but…it’s just…”

“You’re still not comfortable with the idea of your mother remarrying.”

“Can you read my mind?”

Lance laughed. “No, you’re just easy to figure out. Look, the way I see it is you have to be honest with them, all three of them. You want them to be married, you’ve given your blessing on that, but you don’t think this is the right time to have the pressure of a decision this big put on your shoulders. Just be honest and everything will go well. Now, how are you doing?”

“I’m OK,” I replied. That was my automatic answer nowadays.

Apparently Lance saw through that too. “Mack, don’t start with me. I asked how you’re doing, now how attractive you think you are, speaking of which, that answer needs to change.”

“Whatever,” I muttered weakly. Where to start? Hmm, should I mention that I now have another target on my back? That I freak out every time I hear someone mention the name Lou Pearlman? That I think I’m slowly going crazy? That I’m scared for my life because of the Backstreet Boys’ fans? That I’m scared that I’m going to have another asthma attack or whatever that was? Nope, nope, and nope. They’d become even more overprotective than usual and I didn’t want that. I already felt like I was being watched by Big Brother all the time. “Um, I’m great. Kinda beat. The shows are amazing, the fans are nice but a little on the crazy side. I’m tired as hell. Most times I don’t know what city I’m in, let alone the country. Long story short, I’m having the time of my life.”

“It shows,” Lance replied, obviously not believing me. “It’s Lance you’re talking to. You don’t have to sugarcoat anything with me.”

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, carefully not to mess up my mascara. I didn’t want to have to sit in the dang makeup chair for another twenty minutes. “Everyone’s going crazy around here. They think I’m addicted to Justin, to say the least.” I got silence on the other end. I pulled my phone away from my ear and checked to see if I had dropped the call. I didn’t. “Lance? You still there?”

“Yeaaaahhhhh,” he said slowly.

“Uh-oh, that’s your ‘I’m going to say something that you don’t want to hear you need to hear it anyway’ voice,” I groaned and settled in my seat. “Ok, let me have it.” It can’t be too bad.

“It’s…your relationship in general. It’s endearing, really, but as I’ve said for years, it’s filled with you being a doormat for him. You practically wait on him hand and foot and I’ll bet that you’ve waited by your phone all day for him to call sometimes, right?” I bit my lip. I swear, it was like he was here with me. “And I’ll bet he’s kept you up late even when you needed to get up early the next morning because he wanted to talk about anything that came to his mind just because it wasn’t late for him. So, let me guess, they’ve been weaning you, so to speak?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “I think that’s the best idea. Your relationship is toxic. You need to take this time to work on yourself, don’t worry about him.”

“I can’t just give him up like that, Lance.”

“I’m not saying give him up, I’m saying let him go for the time being. It’ll hurt, but it’ll be worth it in the long run.”

Unfortunately, like usual, Lance was right. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to believe them whenever they said that Justin was using me or whatever crap they said, it’s that I didn’t want to acknowledge it, but that’s hard to do with people telling you that constantly for the past four years. Can I really just drop him like that? I made up my mind almost as soon as that thought passed through.

I pulled a face when Liam frantically pointed at his watch again. “Err. Sorry, Lancie, Liam wants my attention. I gotta get back to this photoshoot. Talk to you later, OK?”

“OK. Have fun.”

“I will.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” I hung up my phone and walked over to Liam. “Yes?” I asked as sweetly as possible. He rolled his neck and glared at me.

“Don’t pretend you never saw me,” he said. “You’re wanted on set. The artistic director wants to go over the next concept with you all.”

“What do you mean by ‘you all’?” I asked with finger quotes, handing over my phone. Almost as soon as the question was out of my mouth footsteps reached my ears and I saw the Backstreet Boys troop in with Aaron and Jane Carter behind them. “Should’ve known,” I muttered.

“Hey Legs, nice skirt,” AJ commented with a grin.

I lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t start with me, McLean,” I said in a warning tone. “So what’s the plan, Liam?”

“We want to have pictures that coincide with the tour, for promotion,” Liam explained as I took a chair and crossed one leg over the other. “So what we’re going to have you do is take pictures with each one of them to, in a way, show your different sides.”

“So, say one of my sides was goofy...?” I said slowly.

“You’d take a picture with whichever one of them is the goofiest,” Liam replied, nodding. Then he slapped his hands together. “So, you ready to get to work?”

“Yeah, sure,” I replied with a shrug. How hard could it be?

The next thing I knew I had been whisked into the dressing room to lay out the five different sets of clothes to go with whatever the Boys were wearing. I did my photo shoot with Kevin first. He wore a nice black three-piece suit for some shots and in others. I had a dark blazer, a cream colored button-down shirt (both with the sleeves rolled up) and a black and white pin-striped pencil skirt.  I looked like my mom. The pictures turned out great, despite how hot and bright the dang lights were. I felt like I was melting underneath them. It didn’t help matters much that I was thinking of how to talk to Justin without him freaking out on me but everything I came up with ended in disaster in my head and that made my stomach turn.

“Are you ok? You don’t look so good. Do you want some water?” Kevin asked as I sat down after my photo session with Brian and Howie. I was given a little break before I had to do it again with Nick and Aj who were tossing a football around with Aaron.

“I’m fine, Kev,” I replied. I was lying and he knew it. My head was hurting and I still felt hot even when I wasn’t under the lights and in a simple t-shirt and capris. “I just need some air.”

Well, this was a better time than never. With a heavy sigh I stepped out into the hall and sat on the floor. I turned my phone around in my hands a couple of times while trying to gather my wits. Finally, I let out a long sigh, as if coming from my toes, and pressed Justin’s speed dial number. I lowered my forehead to my knees while keeping my phone near my ear.  I really felt sick now, but it had to be done.

Please don’t pick up. Please don’t pick up. Please don’t pick up…

“Hey Mackie!”

Well, fuck me sideways.

“Hey J,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster while my stomach jumped around. “What’s going on?”

“Not much. Just riding around all day, seeing the sights and shit.”

“You can never appreciate sightseeing, can you?” Get to the damn point, Desorsiers, or you’ll never do it.

“Well, I mean all there is to see are signs here so…”

“Yeah,” was all I could muster. I swallowed hard but the lump in my throat wouldn’t go down. “Hey J, can we talk?”

“Yeah, sure, what’s up? Are you ok? Are they treating you right?” Justin asked.

God, why does he have to care so much? “They’re treating me fine. I wanted to talk to you…about us.”

I bit my lip when he didn’t say anything. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Finally, a few seconds later, he spoke. “What do you mean?” What was wrong with his voice? Could he tell what I was about to say? “There’s not much more space you can get with me being all the way over here. Do you want me to call less or something?”

“No, no, that’s not it.” How do I even say this? Justin, we should stop being friends for the time being. That’ll go over like a stripper being paid to dress a mannequin.

“Then what is it? I can take whatever it is you have to say.” Are you sure about that? “You’ve told me ou hated me many times and, even though each one hurt, I got past it.”

Stab a knife if my heart why don’t you? I clenched the phone a little tighter and let out another sigh. “I don’t think…we should be friends…at the moment,” I choked out, feeling the lump in my throat get tighter and cut off my words. I waited, holding my breath for him to say something else. But it was dead silent on his end. I lifted my phone away from my ear to see if I had dropped the call. “Justin?” I managed to get out.

“…I’m still here,” he replied. His voice sounded rough. “I just…I guess I don’t understand. But, I think I do too.”

The tone of his voice made my heart break. I wanted to take it all back but…I couldn’t and he knew that I could and what made this whole thing worse was that he was taking this better than I thought. I wanted him to fight me, get mad, something.

But all he did was accept it.

“I guess I’ll just…call you later?”

“Justin,” I whimpered. I need you!  I wanted to shout but the words didn’t come out. This had to be done. The dial tone buzzing in my ear signaled that he hung up. I slowly put down my phone. Despite being surrounded by people I’ve never felt more alone in my life.

And I caused it.

My foot started bouncing rapidly on the floor and I wrapped my arms around myself to try and control my shaking but it wouldn’t stop. The feeling of a weight resting on my chest returned and I found it hard to breathe again. I knew letting Justin go would hurt but I didn’t think it’d actually kill me.

 It was then that I realized that it wasn’t Justin that needed me; it’s that I needed Justin.

“Mack…okay?” Whoever called my name it was very muffled, I almost didn’t hear it. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up at my aunt whose eyes were wide in fear.

"Help…me,” I gasped.