Chapter 6

Steph was just entering her dorm room when she heard the phone ring. "Damnit!" she swore as she ran to answer it. "Hello?" she said breathlessly as she dropped her books into a table.

"Hi, is Stephanie Chalifour there?"

"This is she."

There was a brief pause. "Um, this is Nick Carter – we met at the club yesterday –"

"Oh, hi, I didn’t think you were going to call me back . . ."

"I slept in today; it was my first real day of vacation so far. My sister just gave me the message."

"Your sister? I thought she was your girlfriend," Steph replied, making small talk.

"Nah, that’s just my little sister. I don’t have a girlfriend," he said casually, but she could hear a little bit of hurt in his tone. Then he brightened. "Anyway, so are you interested in what I had to say?"

"I think so. So basically, you think you can get me a record deal?" she asked skeptically.

"Definitely. Have you ever heard of Kirsten Corsi?"

Stephanie snorted. "Yeah. Blond bimbo? It’s tough to miss her."

"She’s not that bad, actually," he said, remembering all of the times he had spent with his ex girlfriend. "Anyway, I got her a record deal. No one believed she was any good, but I did it and now she’s made her record company millions of dollars. So right now, they’ll take anyone I pitch them," he said loftily.

"You really don’t have any ego problems, do you?"

"Listen, do you want the deal or not?"

Stephanie was quiet for a moment as she thought about it. Was it worth dealing with this blond egomaniac to get a record deal? She was about to turn it down, but then she remembered her lack of money, her love of performing, and how funny it was when Nick was singing "As Long As You Love Me" on the stage of the Back Alley. "I want it," she finally said.

Nick exhaled a long sigh of relief that Stephanie took to be a sign that he was really desperate to sign her. "Perfect. I’m home on vacation for three weeks, and then we’re on another US tour. If you really want to do this, you’re going to have to spend at least every other day with me. It’s going to be hard work – from now until you get your deal, and then once you start touring. Don’t think for one minute that it’s going to be all fun, because it won’t be – you’ll have to deal with obsessive fans who want to know each minute detail of your life, friends who just want to hang with you for your money or name, no sleep, being in countries whose languages you’ve never heard of – all of it. But it will be worth it, I promise. We need to get you ready. I can take you to the company a week before I leave. Until then, you have to practice and we have to work on your image. You must be willing to at least listen to what I have to say. Because I really can make you successful, as long as you listen to me," Nick said. He could almost picture her rolling her big brown eyes behind those thick glasses. "I know it sounds bad, but it’s the truth."

"Fine. When do we get started?"

"How about tomorrow? You can come by my house. We can talk about how to go about doing this. I have a recording studio in here too, so we can make you a demo eventually."

"Okay then, I’ll see you tomorrow . . . ." Steph said. She would have to cancel some plans, but this was more than worth it. He gave her directions to his house and then, saying good-bye quickly, they both hung up.

Nick stared at the phone. What am I doing? he suddenly thought. I’m probably going to end up corrupting an innocent girl who still thinks that the music industry is about making music, not making money. He was about to call her back and tell her the real story, that this was all a bet and that she would end up with absolutely no credibility and no friends like people from the Back Alley once he was through with her. But then his eye caught a picture of him and Kirsten, sitting on the bedside table next to his phone. It had been taken a few months after they started dating, at a beach in Hawaii during one of their few vacations together. They were standing on a boardwalk over looking the beach, and Nick had his arms wrapped around her small waist. He was gazing at her, but she was just gazing at the lens of the camera.

Feeling a sudden rush of rage, he grabbed the picture and hurled it across the room. The glass of the frame broke into a million little pieces, scattering across the white carpet of his room. He made a decision then and there: that Steph Chalifour, whoever the hell the girl was, was going to be the one to bring down Kirsten Corsi. And he was going to be there to laugh at her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Stephanie got off the bus and looked around the tiny town of Ruskin, Florida, right outside of Tampa. Except for the beach, it could have been Any Town, USA. She dug deep into her pocket and came up with the directions Nick had given her the night before. Muttering to herself as she tried to follow them, she finally grew fed up twenty minutes later. "Excuse me!" she said to a girl riding her bike across the street.

"Yeah?" the girl replied, stopping her bike and holding herself up by putting both feet on the ground.

"Do you happen to know where Nick Carter lives?" Steph asked her, feeling awkward. The girl giggled.

"Are you a Backstreet Boys fan?"

"No, I’m a friend of his."

"So why don’t you know where he lives?"

"I just met him a few days ago."

The girl sized her up, and then said finally, "You don’t look like a Backstreet Boys fan."

"That’s because I’m not!" Steph replied, not able to keep some of the annoyance out of her voice. The girl just shrugged.

"Go down that street and make the first right. Big house with gates on it. Usually there’s teenage girls hanging out there and flowers stuck into the gate with presents and stuff. You might have to wait a while before he comes out to see you."

"Do you know him?" Steph couldn’t help asking.

"He used to baby-sit me, before he got famous, when he was like 13. He’s okay, I guess. A little stuck-up." The girl had the holier-than-thou tone of all twelve-year-olds. "Well, bye." She rode away, and Steph felt an incredible urge to give her the finger. She resisted it, though, and followed the directions to Nick’s house. As predicted, there was a crowd of prepubescent girls and their middle-aged, bored parents holding vigil in front of the intimidating gates of his house. Steph felt like they were going to break into, "We love you Conrad, oh yes we do," from Bye Bye Birdie, at any minute. She walked up to the gate and started to head for the call box.

"He doesn’t answer," a girl said before she could hit the button. Steph turned around to see an 8 year old wearing an oversized Backstreet Boys shirt. "We’ve tried already. His sister answers."

"Oh," Steph replied, "um, I think I’ll try anyway." The girl just shrugged and headed back to standing on the rungs of the gate. Steph hit the button and seconds later heard the exasperated reply of Nick’s sister BJ.

"Hello?"

"Um, hi, my name’s Stephanie Chalifour . . . Nick asked me to come over today."

"Okay, I’ll be out in a second to let you in. How old are you?"

"19, why?"

"I need to make sure I let you in, not someone else. I’d send Nick down, but he’s playing J.D. Salinger today and refuses to go out in public." Stephanie chuckled slightly and heard Nick yelling in the background. "See you in a second." BJ turned off the intercom and Stephanie went to wait. Moments later, a pretty blond girl appeared in front of the gate. "Okay, guys, back up, I gotta open the doors," she said apologetically to the girls climbing all over the fence. They scrambled off, and BJ walked through. They instantly swarmed around her and began asking questions.

"Are you BJ?"

"You’re Nick’s sister, right?"

"Is he home?"

"Is it true he broke up with his girlfriend?"

"Will he come out and see us?"

"Can you give him this for me? Puh-leease, BJ?"

"I’m his biggest fan, omigod, I love him so much, you don’t understand!"
"Can I come in? I won’t take anything, I just want to see his house!"

"I thought you lived in California now!"

" Is Aaron home too? He’s so adorable!"

BJ shot Stephanie an annoyed look. "Guys, guys, he’s not home right now. He’s in Orlando, visiting some friends," she lied. "I don’t know when he’ll be home. Aaron’s not here; I’m just visiting him on my own. I’ll give him your present, but I don’t guarantee that he’ll call you or anything. I’m sorry, my friend’s here and we’ve got some homework to do, so I’ll see you later, okay?" Stephanie noticed that she was avoiding the girlfriend question. The girls around her all started to moan, but BJ just grabbed Stephanie by the hand and pulled her through the gate, quickly closing it before any of the girls could get in.

"Sorry about that," Stephanie apologized. BJ just shrugged as the two quickly walked up the driveway.

"Not your fault that my brother’s the king of the teenyboppers." They walked in silence, and BJ let them in. "He’s downstairs, in the studio. Just go down the hallway and make the third right down the stairs. See you later." BJ disappeared upstairs, and Stephanie went down into the studio.

The first thing she saw was Nick’s blond head bent over some paper. He had the end of a pen stuck into his mouth, and he was humming to himself. "Hello?" she called, walking down the stairs. He looked up sharply and gave her an almost guilty look.

"Oh, hey, sorry, I was just working on some lyrics," he replied. "Come on in." She walked down and sat down near him. "Do you want anything to drink or something?"

"No thanks, I kind of want to get down to business . . ."

"Makes sense." He was about to say something when Steph suddenly gasped.

"Oh shit! I forgot my guitar!"

Nick just shrugged. "Don’t worry about it. We probably won’t need it today, and even if we do, you can borrow mine or something."

"Why wouldn’t I need it?" Steph asked him, surprised.

Nick shifted around uncomfortably in his chair. "There’s something we’ve got to get straight right away, okay, Steph?" She nodded, leaning her head to the side thoughtfully as she listened to him. "You really have to listen to me. Some of the stuff I’m going to tell you to do . . . well, you won’t like it at first. You’ll think it’s dumb, or pointless, or something. But I really know what I’m doing. As long as you listen to me, you’ll be fine."

"Like what kind of stuff are we talking about?" she asked him, arching an eyebrow.

He exhaled slowly, thinking. "Oh, I don’t know . . . what kind of clothes to wear, how to handle interviews, performances. What types of songs to sing. Target audiences. That sorta thing."

"Wait, wait, what kind of songs to sing? Clothes to wear? Are you trying to mold my image or something?"
He squirmed a little. "Well, kind of. Everyone in the music business has an image. From Sarah McLaughlin to Britney Spears to my group to Jay-Z. Everyone has a calculated image. It’s kind of like an exaggerated view of your real self – kind of larger than life, ya know?"

"Do you always quote your own songs?"

"Give me a break, it’s the truth. Britney Spears really is a blond bimbo, but they make her more bimbo-y. Sarah McLaughlin’s really into women’s rights and stuff, but they make her seem more militant, if you know what I mean."

"Sooo, you’re going to completely blow my personality out of proportion?"

"Not exactly, but sort of. Is that okay? I promise it’ll be worth it in the end."

Stephanie sighed. "I’m really, really desperate for money . . . so yeah, I guess so."

Nick’s face lit up with a smile. "Great! First thing – songs. I’ve been working on some, and I was wondering if you could look over them-"

"Wait, I don’t get to sing my own stuff?" Image was one thing, but not singing her own music? She wasn’t quite sure about that.

"Of course you can, but we should also mix it in with a few other songs, you know? Why don’t you just give it a shot? If you don’t like it, we won’t do it. But remember, you promised to listen to me."

She sighed. "Okay," she said eventually.

"Perfect. So this song is called ‘Behind the Mask.’ Max Martin wrote it . . ."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was almost 11 when they finally stopped. They had spent the afternoon and evening arguing loudly about the songs. Stephanie was dead set against teenybopper music, and Nick was all for it. BJ could hear them screaming at each other, even when she was on the third floor of the house. Eventually, they settled on 3 songs for her demo: ‘First Kiss,’ which was one of the songs she performed at the Back Alley the night the met; ‘Behind the Mask,’ the Max Martin song, and ‘Volcano,’ a song Nick had written. ‘First Kiss’ was a Lisa Loeb-ish song, ‘Behind the Mask’ was a slow song, and ‘Volcano’ was an up-tempo song. It had taken them so long to decide that there was no time to actually record the songs. Nick decided that they would do it the next day, and Steph was too tired to argue with him. He gave her a ride home and then went to bed himself, sometime around midnight.

The next morning, a ringing phone awakened him. Nick buried his head under a pillow, trying to ignore it and hoping that BJ would pick up. But she didn’t, and finally he grabbed the phone and said a sleepy, "’lo?" into it.

"Nick, man, are you watching Regis and Kathy Lee?" It was Brian, and he sounded concerned. Nick groaned and fell back into the bed.

"No, actually, I was asleep. Like you should be – it’s 9:17 on our vacation and you’re up?" Nick complained.

"I’m an early riser and so’s Leighanne. But that’s beside the point. Anyway, I was watching Regis-"

"Since when do you watch that stupid talk show?"

"I dunno, I was doing sit-ups and it was the only thing on. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, Kirsten’s on. She just said that you guys broke up. Is that true?"

Nick sighed. "I’d rather not talk about it, Bri."

"When did that happen? You were so hot to see her when we were flying back to Orlando. I thought you were going to hijack the plane if it took us another ten minutes to get there."

"Yeah, well, so did I. But then she dumped me. But I really don’t want to talk about it."

"What’s up your butt?"

"Brian!"

"Geez, sorry. I just wanted to know if it was true. If you don’t wanna talk, fine. Oh, Leigh and I are gonna be in the area in a couple of days – we’re visiting some friends of hers. We might stop by, okay?"

"Yeah, fine. I don’t know if I’ll be home though, so just call ahead of time. Just so you know and don’t act all freaked out when you see her, BJ’s here."

"BJ is? How come? I thought she moved out to LA?"

"Yeah, so did I. Long story."

"Why do I get the feeling a lot has happened to you in the one week since vacation started?" Brian asked.

Suddenly, Stephanie popped into his head, and Nick chuckled slightly. "You have no idea. I’m gonna go back to bed now, okay? See you in a few days."

"Later, Nick." Both men hung up, and Nick quickly fell back asleep until his alarm woke him up at 11:00 – Steph was coming over at 11:30. Hauling himself out of bed, he went to shower and get ready to record the songs for her.

Stephanie and Nick recorded the three songs in his basement, fighting all the while about Nick’s efforts to put as much pop as possible into them. She objected to his bubblegum background to ‘First Kiss.’ She liked ‘Behind the Mask,’ but she couldn’t stand ‘Volcano.’ They finally recorded them, but not before they stopped speaking to each other, which was around 5:00. After the songs were done, on a cassette tape, they listened to them while munching on Chinese food.

"You sound really good," Nick said grudgingly, breaking their hour-and-a-half-long silence that had previously only been broken when they were ordering dinner.

"Thanks," she said briefly, listening to herself singing ‘Volcano.’ "I really don’t like this song though," she added.

Nick sighed. "Steph, we’ve been over this. It’s a real crowd-pleasing song. It can get in your head, and you sing it really well."

"But . . . it reminds me of Britney Spears or something!" she protested.

That’s the point, Nick thought to himself. But instead of that, he said to her, "No, it doesn’t. This sounds good." She gave him a weak smile, and then turned back to her fried rice. "So we’ve got your demo done, in record time I might add."

"Really?" she said, not that interested.

"Yeah, usually takes forever . . . so I was thinking. Today’s Wednesday. What if we go see Jive a week from this Friday?"

"Why wait? We’ve got everything ready. I go in there, you play them the tape, and then I sing and play my guitar, right?"

"There’s more to it than that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, first of all we need to get you a hair cut and stuff," he said, looking critically at her long brown hair. It was pulled back into a neat half ponytail, but it definitely wouldn’t cut it in the music business. "And then there’s another thing. Do you dance at all?"

Stephanie’s eyes bulged out. "Are you kidding me?" she snorted. "I don’t dance. I have two left feet."

"I highly doubt that. You’re a musician, so obviously you’ve got a good sense of rhythm. You probably just haven’t had any training."

"Are you intending to give me some?" She looked at him over the rims of her glasses, and he sighed.

"Well, kind of. It’ll make you a lot easier to pitch to the company, if you can dance. I’m not saying that when you perform it’s going to be all dancing, but say one or two songs a concert . . . like maybe the opening song and another fast-temp song. Like during ‘Volcano’ or something, if you end up performing that. It’s a good song to dance to, not to play your little guitar to." She let the ‘little guitar’ comment slide.

"I guess so," she said, unsure of herself. She had no idea why she kept giving into this egotistical blond kid.

"Great. Hold on, let me go get something . . ." He stood up and pounded up the stairs, leaving Stephanie by herself in the basement.

"Hey BJ!" Nick called when he got to the first floor. "Have you seen my address book?" he asked her as he walked into the kitchen where she sat with a friend.

"No, sorry, Nick," she said apologetically. "Did you check your pit of a room?"

"Not yet. I decided to ask you first. See you later." He turned and went to his room to look for it. BJ just rolled her eyes at her friend and they went back to their conversation. Nick eventually found his address book, stuffed into his underwear drawer next to a big manila envelope of letters from Kirsten and never-opened box of glow-in-the-dark condoms that AJ had given him as a gag gift on his 17^th birthday. He rolled his eyes when he saw the condoms and then went back downstairs, the book firmly clutched in his hand.

"Hey Steph, I-" He stopped near the bottom of the stairs, watching her. She had picked up his guitar and was softly strumming it and singing.

She suddenly stopped singing and saw him standing there, and she blushed. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to, it’s just that that song’s been in my head all day and I wanted to play it."
"It sounded really good," Nick said, walking over to her and sitting down in his old chair. "What was it?"

"’Even Angels Fall,’ by Jessica Riddle. It’s my favorite song . . . anyway, what did you have to get?"

"Oh yeah," Nick said, remembering the address book. He flipped through it quickly and came to the name Andrea Walker. He grabbed a piece of paper from his desk and scribbled her name and number onto a piece of paper for Stephanie. "That’s Andrea. She was me and the guys’ first dance instructor, before we hooked up with Fatima. She’s really nice. She’s pretty young, I think she’s 29 now, and she’ll help you get started. I’m gonna give her a call tomorrow to tell her about you, and in case she doesn’t call you, here’s her number, okay?"

"Sure," Stephanie replied. "Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of. Just call her in a couple of days if she doesn’t call you. Until then, we can cool it for a while. I’ll call swing by Jive tomorrow, drop off your demo tape, and talk to them about making an appointment for a week from Friday. You can just be working on dance stuff with Andrea until then, and on Wednesday or Thursday we can get together to pick out some clothes and stuff for you, okay?"

"Yup. I’ll see you later then." She stood up to get going.

"Do you wanna get something to eat before you go? BJ and I were going to order a pizza for dinner."

"Thanks, but that’s okay. I’ve got some studying to do back at the dorm."

"That’s right, I forgot you’re still in school. FSU, right?"

"Yeah. We’re on vacation, but I’ve got a paper due right after break, so . . ."
"I hear ya. Do you need a ride home?"

"No thanks, there’s a bus in ten minutes." They began walking up the stairs together quietly, and he walked her to the door. "See you later, Nick."

"Bye, Steph. Don’t forget to call Andrea," he reminded her.

She nodded in response. She started walking back down his long driveway, but just as he was about to shut the door, she turned around and said, "Nick?"

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Thanks for doing this for me." Steph smiled at him one more time, and then continued home.

Nick smiled to himself and said quietly, "No problem."