Chapter 4 – By The Grace Of God

“Downbeat on the night, Christopher!”

Addy could hear the scream before she ever opened the large push doors to walk into the backstage area of Madison Square Garden. The boys had taken a separate bus on the short trek to Manhattan, and Addy had followed just an hour later with Liam, driving over with Johnny after the two of them had a short meeting with each other. She had dropped Liam off with Jessica, the nanny, at the hotel and driven here wondering what she would walk into.

Wade was in another mood – which meant that he would take it out on the boys. Which meant that the boys would be in a mood too.

“Stop, stop, stop, stop, just...stop!” Wade screamed as she had opened the door and made her way towards the stage where she could see them gathered. Their lips were all pursed. None of them were happy.

She watched Wade close his eyes and rub his temple between his fingers roughly.

“That was atrocious,” he said. “Chris, you're two beats off on the whole thing. Justin, you're staring off into space. JC, you look like a monkey dancing on crack. And Lance...I can't even list all the things you did wrong.”

She stopped short, careful to stay out of the warpath, and watched Lance stretch his arms over his head.

“Why not, Wade?” he said. “You haven't seemed to have a problem with it all week long, why stop now?”

She had to hold back a smile – Lance had changed a lot over the few years she had known him, but the smart ass attitude was one thing that remained constant.

“Am I wrong that this tour was supposed to be the 'Take Back The Night' tour?” Wade asked, ignoring him. “The only thing you guys are doing is taking pop music back about a thousand years.”

“Exactly what crawled up your ass, died, rotted, and started eating you out from the inside, Wade?” Justin asked.

Adeline couldn't stop the audible chuckle from escaping her lips, and she was shocked when Wade looked at her.

“Is something funny to you?” he asked her.

“The eating you out from the inside part was pretty funny,” she responded with a smile.

Wade chuckled, but she could tell he was unamused. “You're late.”

“I had a meeting,” she responded. “With Johnny – our boss, if you remember correctly. I also have a son that I had to drop off with the nanny.”

“Oh yeah, the son,” Wade said. “I forgot. So glad we could bring the brat along for the ride this time. Because we don't have enough distractions already.”

Addy and Lance exchanged a glance with each other.

“Do I need my ears cleaned or did you just call my kid a brat?” Lance asked.

“You have a problem with that?” Wade asked.

“Yeah, I think I do,” Lance said, taking a step forward.

“Let's take it down a notch, guys,” JC said, his hands up in warning. “We're tired but let's just pull it together and try to do a little better. And Wade, cool your jets and give us a break, we're trying our best.”

“Yeah, come on,” Justin said. “Let's not make this personal, okay?”

“Take five guys,” Addy said. “Cool down, grab a drink, let everybody chill, and then get back to it. Unless Wade thinks that five minutes will be the downfall of the entire tour?”

As she gave him a look that could kill, Addy could tell that Wade was displeased at her – but she was satisfied when he walked away from the stage without another word. She saw the breath that each of them sighed as they walked toward her.

“Well you're officially on his shit list,” Lance said. “Welcome to the club, baby. Glad you could join us – Chris and I were getting lonely.”

“Fuck,” Justin said, grabbing a bottle of water and downing almost a quarter of it in one drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What is Wade's damage?”

“He didn't used to be like this,” Lance said with a shake of his head, grabbing his own water out of Addy's bag to sip. “Wade used to be...”

“Cool?” Chris asked.

“Who knows,” Addy said with a shrug. “All I know is that Johnny explicitly stated that part of my job was to recognize when the five of you were about to reach your physical and mental limits. I have a feeling that someone is at their limit, and if I didn't step in, heads would have rolled.”

“Heads will roll all right,” Lance said. “If he doesn't stop treating you like the dirt under his feet, his head will roll under the stage and never be found.”

“Tell us all how you really feel, Lancey-poo,” Justin said with a smile.

She smiled, but unfortunately, she knew that Justin was right. All the time she had been with Lance, she had come to know him as a gentleman underneath the smart attitude – he rarely used the threat of physical violence against anyone. It was a sign that he was reaching his limit – a dangerous sign. If something didn't happen to change Wade's attitude soon, she had a feeling something bad would happen.

The boys took ten minutes backstage just to breathe, relax, collect their emotions, and have the opportunity to chill down. Addy then ushered them back to the stage, reminding them all that they had a job to do, even if they were reluctant to go back to working with Wade.

She watched them groan despite walking back to their places, smiling. When her phone rang from her pocket, she reached for it.

“Hello?”

“Addy, it's Jessie,” the young girl's voice came from the other end. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, Jessie, not at all,” she said, briefly glancing back at the boys. “Is something wrong?”

“Well, I don't think it's serious or anything,” Jessica said. “But I was trying to feed Liam and I think he might be coming down with a little something.”

“What do you mean, a little something?” Addy asked.

“Well, I was trying to feed him carrots before his nap. He loves carrots – so it was kind of odd when he wouldn't eat for me. He kept pushing the food away. Then I noticed he looked tired and he kept rubbing his eyes, so I thought maybe he was just tired. But then I felt him and he felt a little warm, so I took his temperature. It's a little high – nothing to be too concerned about, but it's 99.3.”

“Is he throwing up?” she asked.

“No, nothing like that,” Jessie said. “I just thought you might want to know.”

“I appreciate the call,” Addy said. “Do I need to come back to the hotel?”

“I don't think so, but I'll keep an eye on him,” she responded. “I gave him a dose of baby Tylenol and laid him down for a nap, but I'll keep you posted and call you if it gets any higher. So just make sure to have your phone on you, if that's okay.”

“Absolutely,” Addy responded. “Always.”

“Thanks, Addy,” Jessie responded.

She hung up the phone just as Johnny came through, walking up next to her.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Jessie just called,” she said. “Liam has a bit of a fever.”

“Anything you need to go take care of?” he asked.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I think she can handle it. I mean, she's the nanny, right? That's why you hired her, to take care of Liam when I'm gone, and Joey's kids when they travel with us. She can handle it.”

He smiled. “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”

“Is it that obvious?” she asked.

“Adeline, I've been around you long enough to notice when you're nervous or worried – which is almost always,” he said with a chuckle. “If you feel like you need to go, feel free to go, Wade and I can handle the boys for now. But...I think Liam will be just fine. Jessie is a career nanny – she's not some sixteen-year-old babysitting for some summer money. She's taken care of a lot of celebrity children. I think a little fever is something she can handle.”

Adeline let out a sigh. It was hard to let go; her worries about her son's safety didn't stop at pregnancy and the moment she gave birth to him. She constantly worried that something would happen to him, something bad, and being on a tour was enough to send her into overdrive about any little thing. She had somehow convinced herself over the years that she was cursed, and she was trying to let that go.

“You're right,” she said. “I should at least go tell Lance, though.”

“Go right ahead,” Johnny said, motioning towards the stage. “I'm sure Wade won't mind the interruption.”

I'm not so sure about that, she thought to herself as she started walking off toward them.

The group had switched focus from rehearsing the new dance steps to “Take Back The Night” to refreshing themselves on the routine for “The Game Is Over”. They had brought back so many of the fan-favorite routines to mix in with their new stuff, knowing that they had to make this tour one to remember. They wanted to make it one for the books. They were getting older, and as hard as it was to admit, it wasn't as easy to put on a full, no-holds-barred concert like they used to. They were grown up, had families and other life's work – this could be the last tour they ever did.

“You're a little heavy on the downbeat, JC,” Wade said. “Lance, you're off about half a step, let's pick up the pace a little.”

Relieved that Wade's tone of voice seemed to have calmed slightly, Adeline still approached cautiously.

“Wade, sorry to interrupt,” she said. “Can I speak to Lance a moment?”

“Make it quick,” he said, sighing slightly. “We've got a lot of work to do.”

“What's going on?” Lance asked, stretching a leg out in front of him.

“I just got a call from Jessie,” she said. “Liam's got a slight fever. She's taking care of it and said it was nothing to worry about, but she would call if it got worse. I just thought you'd want to know.”

Lance nodded and had opened his mouth to respond, when another voice broke in.

“What exactly is it that you do, Addy?” Wade said.

To anyone else in the room, it would have been an innocent question – but the tone with which he said it made Addy raise an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“So far, all I've seen you do is hand out water bottles and towels, pick up dirty clothes, and interrupt rehearsals to tell Lance that your kid has the sniffles,” he said. “Can't you do that at home? Or are you here for the distraction alone?”

“And all I've seen you do is yell at these boys that they're doing everything wrong, never telling them exactly what to do right,” she said. “Can't you be a tyrant at home, or are you here to make their lives even more miserable?”

Wade pursed his lips before a small smile came to his face.

“I can understand why your ex-husband did what he did,” he said. “Living with you for five years, any man would lose his mind.”

She didn't know how it happened – one minute she was looking at the other guys, including Lance, mouths hung open in completely stunned silence. The next she found herself standing right next to Wade.

She felt her knuckles connect with the hard bone of his nose, feeling the crack of it underneath his skin. She saw him fall to the floor, his nose and mouth covered in blood, before feeling Lance's hands grab her arms and pull her a few steps away.

“That's what I'm here for!” she yelled as he tried to pull her away. “How's that for 'Bye Bye Bye', bitch?”

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“My bottle's empty.”

Melissa sighed and closed her eyes momentarily before getting up and going to the fridge. It was easier to keep Derek drinking than give a smart comment. It kept her unharmed, at least physically – and at least for the time being.

She popped the top off the bottle and handed it to him.

“Anything else?” she asked, standing in front of him, wondering what she ever saw in the man.

Derek shook his head. “You're in the way of the TV.”

As soon as she'd sat down, he looked over at her.

“How about a pizza?” he suggested, shaking his head when she mentioned one of the pizza places. “I want one of those fancy New York style pizzas. You lived in New York, went to chef school. Make me one.”

It was almost ten at night and the grocery store closest to them was closed. And the neighborhood they were in wasn't exactly the safest. It wasn't as bad as southwest Little Rock, but gun shots and sirens were common during the night. Derek hadn't improved living conditions any, with Melissa only thankful that the place was forced to live now had hot water and no roaches. It was still bottom of the barrel living.

“I don't have all the ingredients,” she responded, frowning when he pursed his lips. “Derek, I'm not leaving this late in this neighborhood...”

“Come here,” he growled, grabbing her arm hard when she tried to back away. “If Chris would have asked, I'm sure you would've hauled your ass out the door to the store to get him the stuff for a pizza. Am I right? Walked through the fires of Hell itself...”

“He'd have called in a pizza. Not asked me to go out late. Because unlike you, he's not an asshole.”

Melissa wasn't prepared for a half-full beer bottle to be used as a club. She saw spots when she tried to blink, pain shooting through her head. Tears filled her vision and she twisted her arm to get away.

“I'll go get the stuff for the pizza,” she said, her voice broken, thick with tears.

“If you think you're taking the truck, you've lost your mind,” he said. “Call a friend. Oh wait...they're all on tour.” He smiled. “I don't care how you get to the store. I want a thin crust supreme...all fresh ingredients. And while you're out, get me more beer.”

He tossed a couple of twenties at her.

“You might want to think about getting a job. This is the end of the freebies.”

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New York. Melissa could picture it in her mind. Even though she and Chris usually didn't go out really late, there was never the apprehension that she felt walking in Little Rock. It would come as a shock to most who lived outside of New York that it was relatively safe compared to this smaller “big” city. Unlike New York, people were not out in mass walking here. Stores were not open – except for the small store five blocks down that looked like a drive-by could happen at any time. As quickly as she could, she got what she needed and left, carrying the bags.

“You need a ride, sweetheart?” a man's voice asked, the words having a different connotation than what was said.

“No, thanks,” Melissa said as she walked a bit quicker, the apartment complex coming into view. She knew she wasn't dressed any different than anyone else, in jeans and a t-shirt. Some of her 'worst' of the best clothes. All the things she left in the closet across from Chris's things.

They were just material items, but she missed her favorite shirt – a striped shirt with the front wrapped across her bosom and flared out at the bottom slightly. It went good with jeans or slacks, one of her often worn items. The suitcase she'd hastily packed with shaking hands consisted of very little, not sure of anything except Derek was there. And now she was walking down a sidewalk very late at night.

“You know, honey, this is a rough neighborhood...”

Melissa looked over at the man, and just shook her head, relieved when he drove on.

Even though she was less than a block away from the apartment and knew the chances of her making it safely were good, she paused a moment to adjust the bags so that she was holding them all in one hand. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the heavy object – the beaded rosary.

She grasped the diamond cross at the end tightly, wrapping her fingers comfortingly around its edges.

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit...”

She closed her eyes, running a finger over the first bead.

“Holy Father,” she whispered. “Please keep me safe.”

She had so much more she wanted to pray for – but it was then that she broke down into tears and couldn't go on. She could only hope that God heard her prayers, and that he would not forsake her in her time of need – as Chris always told her.

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“Here you go, Slugger.”

Addy flinched when the cold ice pouch landed in her lap. She looked up and saw her husband smiling at her.

“For your knuckles,” he said. “I noticed during the show tonight they were starting to bruise a little. I figured they hurt.”

“Yeah,” she said, looking at her right hand that had started to turn a light shade of purple in spots, and was still sore. “I shouldn't have done that.”

“I thought it was awesome,” he said. “So do the other guys. Nobody wanted to say anything, but we were all more than a little tired of Wade 'Dictator' Robson. He's a damn good choreographer, but he's not a people person.”

“He crossed a line,” she said, placing the ice pack on her hand, wincing at the slight pain. “My temper got the best of me, I guess.”

“I didn't know you could do that,” he said, a smile crossing his face. “I mean, punch that hard. It was more than a little hot.”

She smiled.

“Touring with Wade for the next seven months should be fun though,” she said. “He was treating you guys bad before, I can't imagine what he'll do now.”

“Yeah, Johnny already considered that,” Lance said, coming to sit next to her on the lounge sofa. “That's why he fired him.”

“Johnny fired Wade?” she asked, shocked.

“Technically, asked him to resign, due to 'scheduling conflicts',” Lance said, using air quotes. “On paper, Wade had other commitments that prevented him from being at our beck and call when we needed him. In Johnny's office – well let's just say that I heard Johnny tell him that he was now on the outs with three important members of the NSYNC crew and seriously annoying a handful of others, and he couldn't waste his time worrying that any time Wade opened his mouth, a fist fight would break out.”

“So it's my fault,” Addy said.

“Not really,” he responded, throwing his arms behind his neck. “Johnny was pretty sure that if the next person to assault him wasn't me, it would be Chris. He did admit that he was shocked that you were the first, though.”

“I'm surprised I'm not fired,” she said.

“Actually, Johnny wasn't mad,” he said. “He had a smile on his face. I think he was kind of proud of you.”

“What about a choreographer, though?” she asked. “You guys still have work to do on some of your songs, and you need a choreographer. What will we do without Wade?”

“The replacement will be available tomorrow afternoon, just in time to rehearse for the Hartford show,” he said. “She lives in Waterbury and we go through there anyway. So actually, it works really well. She was a semi-finalist on So You Think You Can Dance, like Lacey was.”

She sighed. Her knuckles hurt so bad.

“If Mel had been here, we would have had to pull both of you off him,” Lance said, chuckling slightly.

“I can see the headline,” she said. “'Former Choreographer Found Dead; Body Floating in Hudson'.”

“Cause of death – verbal diarrhea and inflated ego,” Lance said.

“Suspects still on the loose,” she continued.

“Ornery blondes, armed with NSYNC press shots and Sharpies,” he said with a smile. “If seen, do not photograph, do not approach for autographs; call Johnny Wright immediately.”

“Lance, I miss her,” she said. “God, I miss her so much. She was my only person to talk to on this tour. Now I have no one.”

“You have me, you know,” he said.

She nodded slightly. What she couldn't tell him was that he wasn't a person she could go to to talk about the things that really bothered her, to work out the mental stresses of the day and of life in general.

“It's not the same,” she said, barely above a whisper.

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The oven dinged and Melissa tried hard not to yawn. It was almost midnight. The smell from the old oven was one that she liked. A New York pizza like the one from her and Chris's favorite place just around the corner in the city – with different toppings of course. She pulled the pan out and sliced the pizza, taking a slice over to Derek.

“Here,” she said, holding the plate out for him to take.

Derek looked at her and then the pizza, his eyes shifting back to the television.

“What the fuck do I want that for?”

“You wanted a pizza...”

Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip.

“You know what? Fine,” Melissa said, taking the pizza and tossing it into the trash. She ignored Derek cussing when she took the rest of the pizza and dumped it as well, along with the over-full ashtray that had been left from some of his friends. “Oh, did you want pizza?” she asked as he looked at her, glaring at him, trying to not shake when he got up off the couch and half-staggered toward her.

“You're gonna eat that shit...” Derek said, leering at her and then looking at the trash can. “Who the hell do you think you are? You're a nobody...a stupid blonde who fell backward into a relationship with a guy who probably fucks guys when he goes out,” he taunted her, watching her get mad. “Your little boyfriend probably sucks dick better than you do. Ex boyfriend. He's probably banging some nineteen year old now...or one of his bandmates.”

Melissa knew he wanted a fight – any excuse to put his hands on her. It would be her undoing.

“At least I know for sure his penis was bigger than yours,” she said.

Derek smiled, leaning in to be nose-to-nose with her, running a hand over her cheek before slapping her hard enough to leave a hand print and her teeth rattle together.

“When I want you to say something, I'll tell you,” he sneered. “And I'll tell you what to say.”

Her cheek throbbed and she sucked in air, watching him make his way to the bedroom. Her thoughts went to Chris once more. They would have just finished their concert at Madison Square and be on the bus, on their way to Hartford for their next show in two days. Melissa almost hoped that he didn't see her again. She couldn't be sure how she was going to get through this. It would only be by the grace of God.