This is a (true!) story I like to call "Backstreet's Back, Alright!"
I, like most girls in their 20's, loved the Backstreet Boys at some point in her childhood. It just so happens that I still love them to this very day. Not in a creepy "I'm gonna hunt you down and marry you and cry in your face when I finally do see you" kind of way. But more in a, I still enjoy their music and the memories they gave me as a kid kind of way. I saw them in concert when I was 13 years old and pretty much cried the entire time. Yes, I was one of THOSE girls. I wasn't the obnoxious girl who screamed through the whole concert. Oh no. I was the girl bawling like a baby, next to the screaming girl. I don't know, just something about the sight of Nick Carter and his blonde hair in all its glory so close to me just made me lose it. I remember I felt really sick during the show, like I was going to throw up, and my dad said "Do you want to go home?" I looked at him as if an alien walked up to me and asked me if he could push me on the swing in the neighborhood park. "NO!" I screamed. "Dad, Nick Carter is RIGHT THERE! WE ARE NOT LEAVING!" I proceeded to sob throughout the rest of the show, went home, took my temperature and had a 102 degree fever but didn't even care. Nothing was going to separate me from The Boys, and especially not from that holy, pure, virgin of a boy Nick Carter (I was so naive back then), whom I liked to refer to as "my future husband." I saw them again when I was 18 with my mom (I'm beginning to sense a pattern here. Where were my friends? Oh that's right, I had none.) and they were amazing. Then dumbass Kevin had to leave the group and BSB fans around the world mourned. I still continued to love them, but gave up hope that they would ever reunite and things would never be the same. My world was shattered. Fast forward to 2012 when I got word the Backstreet Boys would be reuniting, all 5 of them, I was elated. Euphoric doesn't even begin to describe these feelings.
A year later when I got word that BSB would be playing a concert right by my work. I almost died instantly. I had to be there! That dream was killed the second I learned tickets were $70...and I'm broke. I was crushed, but gave myself a big girl talk and snapped out of it. You see, I have gone to concerts on a regular basis since I was 8 years old. It is one of my favorite things to do and some of my favorite moments from my life have come from going to concerts. But I had to give that up when I moved to LA, because it's so expensive to live here and concert ticket prices are just through the roof these days. I'm okay with not getting to go to concerts and do stuff like that anymore because I love living in LA so much. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it. A couple days before the show I was at work and my manager mentioned he might be able to get my friend and I tickets, but couldn't make any promises. The venue often gives my work extra tickets, because we're cool like that. I almost burst open with excitement but told myself "Get it together girl. This isn't a for sure thing. It might not work out. Don't get your hopes up." But who am I kidding? This is me we're talking about after all. In my mind, I was already there singing "Everybody, rock your body!" It wasn't until the day of the actual show that I received an email from my manager saying he got my friend and I tickets and it's confirmed. I almost peed right then and there, but my dog staring at me and what kind of example would I be setting for my son? That it's ok to pee in the apartment every time you get excited and I can't have that. I called my mom right away (because, who else am I gonna call?) and said "I'm going to see the Backstreet Boys tonight!" Then texted my friend telling her to read the email. We proceeded to do the whole girl thing, "what are you gonna wear?!" "I don't know!" "I found my outfit!" "Text me a picture!" "Ok!" "Oh my gosh, that is so cute! I have nothing to wear :(" "Whatever, you're gonna look amazing no matter what you wear, girl." You know, typical girl crap.
My friend and I get to the venue and pick up our tickets at will call. We also meet up with 2 of our other friends from work (girls, duh) who were lucky enough to get tickets through work too. We pay $11 for a Coors Light (not a rip off whatsoever) and head into the theater. We have no idea where our seats are, we are just happy to be there. We ask an usher to show us where we are sitting and he notions for us to follow him. So we do. We start walking down the stairs, down the stairs, down some more stairs and are getting closer and closer to the stage. My friend and I exchange "Oh my gosh!" looks. We finally reach our seats. Center stage, 7th row. Not bad. I did everything not to cry, and call my mom to tell her how amazing our seats were. I'm a grown woman. I did not cry and opted to send my mom a text instead. There was music playing from the moment we walked into the theater, but hadn't even noticed as I was so blindsided by our amazing seats. I look up at the stage and there is a "DJ" (if you will) playing music. "Why the fuck is Pauly D here?!" I asked my friend. You read correctly. Pauly D was some kind of weird opening act for the Backstreet Boys, for some reason only the good Lord in heaven knows. I don't care for him at all and think he's a complete joke, so I just drank my beer and after that he was much more enjoyable. Thankfully his set didn't last long and he was gone. "YES!" I screamed. "Backstreet Boy Time!" "Not just yet Colleen. Some guy named Jesse McCartney is playing next" my friend informed me. "Jesse McCartney?! What is he doing here?!" (Side note: Jesse McCartney and I have history. Remind me to tell you about the time Jesse and I took pictures together in my parents classic 1963 baby blue Ford Falcon convertible. I'll save that story for another time.) I was pleased to see Jesse perform as I used to love him back in the day, especially before he went all ghetto. "He knows he's white, right?" I ask my friend during his performance. Jesse finishes his set, we sit through another intermission that felt like 5 hours and FINALLY it's time for Backstreet Boys to take the stage. My little heart almost exploded.
The boys appear and begin singing "The Call" the crowd goes wild, my friends and I try not to cry and so begins the show. Can I just say that after all these years, these "Boys" still got it! They sounded incredible, danced amazing and put one hell of a show. They sang all their hits and some new songs as well. At one point in the show Brian and I made eye contact (because we were that close to the stage). I waved to him and he jokingly looked behind him and then pointed to himself like, "Are you waving to me?", he smiled and waved back. I panicked and blew him a kiss and he blew a kiss back along with the sweetest smile in the world. I lost my shit. My friends looked at me and we all screamed "Oh my god!" in unison "Did you guys see that?!" I felt the need to double check to make sure it wasn't something I had imagined in my 13 year old state of mind. Everyone in the audience around us looked at me with excitement and a whole lot of jealousy. I'm just gonna be honest, I liked it. "That's right ladies! That kiss was for me!" I yelled. The rest of the night pretty much went like that. We sang and danced and sang and danced and yelled inappropriate things to Nick Carter, which one mother sitting near us was not thrilled with. "Whatever lady. This is Nick Carter we're talking about and we're not kids anymore. Deal with it" I yelled, I have no idea if she heard me and frankly don't care. They sing "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" as one of their encore songs and I lost my shit....again. Screaming and singing at the top of my lungs, dancing trying not to fall over (and not because I had too much to drink. I had 1 over priced beer at the beginning of the night, but because some dumbass spilled their margarita all over the floor, which I put my purse in unknowingly, then put on my lap to find my bare legs covered in dirty, ground margarita. I was not pleased.)
The concert ends and we are on cloud 9. You're probably thinking this is where the story ends, but you're mistaken. This story is just getting started. You see, I forgot to mention one tiny detail: there is an official Backstreet Boy after party.....at my work. Apparently Nick, Kevin and Howie host after parties after every show on their "In A World Like This" tour, and this one just so happens to be at our place of employment. You had to purchase tickets for the after party. I'm not sure the exact price of these tickets, but I do know they were somewhere from $150 range, not including the concert ticket, which was entirely separate. We headed to the after party, walked right past the line and busted right through the doors thanks to the most bad ass managers on the face of this earth. We really wanted a picture with the boys and our manager told us he'd see what he could do, but again, couldn't make any promises because it was their event and we were just giving them the space for the party. We said ok. But if you know anything about me, you know that wouldn't stop me. You see, I don't know what it is, but I generally have extremely good luck with these kind of things. I couldn't tell you why, I just do. I told my friend "Don't you worry girl. I'm gonna get us our picture. These things have a way of working themselves out for me. Trust me." They roped off part of the restaurant for the VIP section, and for the stage where the boys would be at. The boys took the stage, Nick DJ'd and Kevin and Howie MC'd and got the crowd pumped. My friend and I stood in the back, but then we noticed there were girls dancing the stage with the guys. These girls had once been in the crowd with us, and the boys pulled them onstage. We see these girls dancing and singing and taking pictures with the boys and I turned to my friend and said "Oh hell no! We are getting up there!" We made our way to the back of the crowd, which wasn't a crazy amount of people, but there were a lot of girls, standing very firmly in their place. We were able to make it past a few girls then hit a brick wall, also a person that would not budge. We tried to maneuver our way past her at different angles, but this chick would not budge. And I was scared of what she might do to me if we pushed her. I said, "Screw this! Let's get their attention and they'll pull us onstage. I know they will." We made eye contact with Howie and mouthed "Can we come up?!" He said "Yeah!" and waved us over. But there was still a sea of alarmingly strong girls we had to pass. We squeezed past a couple other girls, only to get shoved into another girl and all I heard was "BITCH!" Some chick pushed my friend into me, which pushed me into another girl and now everyone was pissed. We stood our ground, and tried for round two of eye contact with Howie. Again, he waved us up on stage, and we tried to squeeze past the girls and I got elbowed in the stomach. "Fuck this! We are going around." I informed my friend. We walked around to the side of the stage and the VIP section that was roped off. I started talking to the young, cute, security guard and explained to him our dilemma. I told him Howie invited us on stage not once, but twice, but the army of fans would not allow it. He felt bad for us. Just then one of our coworkers who was working the event walked by (in their uniform of course) and we said, "Hey! What's up?" The security guard said, "Do you work here" we said "yes" then he said "hang on just a second" walked over to someone and whispered something in their ear. They looked at us and nodded their head. "Just one more second" he said. My friend and I exchanged "Oh hell yes!" glances. We were so close. The security had his hand on the rope to lift it and a security guard for the Backstreet Boys stopped him and said "No, sorry. They're only pulling girls onstage from the audience. No one can get onstage this way." "But Howie invited us!" we shrieked. "Sorry, but no one is allowed in this way." The cute security guard said, "Sorry ladies. There's nothing I can do. I have to abide by their rules." Never in my life have I felt so defeated. Just then my manager walks over, lifts the velvet rope, looks at all the security guards and says "They're good. Let them through." YES! We start to walk, and this lady grabs us and says, "Wait a minute!" Panicked, we looked to my manager, who ensured her that we were fine and we are employees. She released her firm grip on my arm and said "Oh, ok, I just saw you guys in the crowd and then thought you were trying to sneak your way up here." "No, we work here, it's ok." I said in my sweetest voice possible. We were in.
We walk over to the stage to get closer to the stage only to find another roadblock: the entrance to the stage was blocked. "Son of a bitch!" I yelled to my friend. Granted it was just a chair blocking it and we could have moved it, there was all this equipment and 2 guys standing were standing in the way. It was obvious no one was supposed to go that way unless they were the sound guys or whatever. But Nick Carter was literally so close we could have touched him if we reached out and leaned over the wall. We decided our best bet to get our damn picture with Nick would be to the side of the DJ booth and slowly inch our way closer and closer to him and pray that no one noticed. We began executing our plan, then the 2 guys who were standing there started talking to us. "This could go one of two ways" I said aloud in my head "We can flirt with them and they'll help us get our picture, or they will turn us away." Luckily for us, we are both blonde and it ended up being option number one. Only we didn't have to flirt. They were the ones flirting with us. "JACKPOT. This is going to be so easy," I whispered to my friend. We make small talk and the guys introduce themselves to us and tell them that we work at the restaurant, which for some reason, they thought was really awesome. One of the guys introduces himself and then says "And this is my cousin. He's friends with Nick. We live in Calabasas but my cousin and Nick are neighbors, they both have beach houses in Malibu." I nod politely and say, "Cool. Malibu, huh. That must be nice." acting unimpressed. Then he goes, "Do you guys want a picture with Nick?" I say, "I mean, only if we can. It's not a big deal if he can't do it. We don't want to cause any problems." "Not at all! Hang on, he'll get Nick."I turn to my friend and mouthed "Mission Accomplished." His cousin leans over and whispers something to Nick, Nick looks at us, nods his head and puts up one finger, (no, not that finger people) the "hang on one minute" finger. The guys continue to talk to us and start dancing with us while we wait for Nick. I mean, they are on us and clearly not going anywhere. We still wanted our picture so we went along with it. My friend and I turn and look to the side of the stage and see our manager looking at us and completely cracking up, laughing so hard. He knew exactly what was going on and what we were doing and he thought it was hilarious. We looked at him laughed, and then turned back and danced with the guys. Finally they say Nick is ready for us. I throw my camera at one of our new friends (the guys) and push myself as close as I can to Nick Carter. My friend of course did the same on the other side of him. We have the biggest smiles on our faces. I'm sure we looked like giddy junior high school girls, but we didn't care: We got our picture! We said thank you, looked at the picture right away (obviously) squealed in approval. It turned out cute! We were pleased. We hung out with the guys for the remainder of the night. The bought us a couple drinks, we exchanged numbers and then they invited us to come hang out at their beach house in Malibu afterwards. I looked at my friend and said "Ummmm, they just invited us to their beach house?!?" Now as tempting as that sounds, I've gotta say: Mama didn't raise no fool! At this point was 2 AM. I was not about to go all the way to Malibu, to a stranger's house, by myself. My friend had to leave, and so did I actually. Even if my friend and I decided to go together, it would still not be the smartest idea. A stranger is a stranger. I don't care how nice, or cool, or glamorous they may seem. I really had to get back to my poor dog who had been locked up in my apartment for 9 hours. I was just praying to God he hadn't committed suicide by now. And I have no AC in my apartment and was hotter than balls that night. Fans and open windows can only do so much. I explained to the guys that as great as it sounds, I had to get back to my dog. And I was exhausted. They understood but told us, "You are always welcome to come over and hang. We kick it and chill and have people over all the time. Nick comes over a lot too." Dude, you had me at Malibu Beach House. I'm not trying to get with Nick Carter. You don't have to sell me on the fact that you guys are friends. I know you are and that's great for you. I have friends too. They just don't have 2nd houses in Malibu. Hell, they don't have houses. We live in apartments. We keep it real...because we're poor. But hey, at least we're happy, right? I did not tell them this, because I did not have the energy to explain. We said goodbye and said we'll all hang out soon.
My friend leaves and I meet up with my other friend whom we got separated from during the scrambling to get onstage madness. We went into the back of our restaurant to grab or belongings to head home and our manager runs down the stairs and says "Hey! What are you two doing?! Follow me!" We drop our stuff on the ground and chase our manager up the stairs and he leads us to the meet and greet line. We give each other "OMGEE!" looks to express our excitement. If you've noticed, we do that a lot. Sometimes a glance is all it takes. We don't need words to understand what the other is thinking or feeling. We jump in at the very end of the line and wait in anticipation. It's finally our turn and we are escorted into the room where Nick, Howie and Kevin greet us with smiling faces. They hug us all, ask us how we're doing, what we thought of the show and thanked us for coming out. We took a picture with them, along with 2 random girls (some weird meet and greet rules. Whatevs, we couldn't care less) thanked them and ran away the way a child runs down the hall towards their presents on Christmas morning. We ran back downstairs grabbed our stuff and just stared at each other with ginormous smiles, beaming from ear to ear. We didn't say a single word. We didn't need to. The smiles said it all. We hugged and headed out to our cars, said goodbye, still beaming.
As I drove away I rolled down the windows, turned up the music and blasted "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" as it was only the appropriate way to end the night. As I drove home I took in the sights around me, the palm trees, the bright lights of Hollywood and replayed back the entire night in my mind. I started to tear up because sometimes I can't believe where I'm at, how far I've come and can't even believe my own life sometimes. I don't live a crazy, glamorous life and couldn't be further from it. But I have come a long way just in the 16 months that I've been back in Los Angeles. I can't believe how lucky I am for all the amazing friends and memories I've made so far. Living in LA can be hard at times: I'm broke, I work my ass off, 3 jobs, 7 days a week, just to pay my bills. Which can be exhausting and leaves hardly any time or money to do much of anything. That's not me complaining, it's just the reality of living in LA. I knew what I was getting myself into, I signed up for it. I love living here so much that I'm willing to do whatever I need to do to stay here. I know I won't have to work this hard and be broke for the rest of my life. It's temporary and I'm just starting out. So when I experience rare nights like these, I almost can't believe it's real but couldn't be more grateful for them. A night like this would never ever happen if I was still living in Sacramento. These kinds of things only happen in LA, which is why it's so crazy and exciting to be here at times. Nights like these give me hope that things are going to get better and remind me that this is just the beginning. THIS story is why I love living in Los Angeles so much: Anything is possible.
I, like most girls in their 20's, loved the Backstreet Boys at some point in her childhood. It just so happens that I still love them to this very day. Not in a creepy "I'm gonna hunt you down and marry you and cry in your face when I finally do see you" kind of way. But more in a, I still enjoy their music and the memories they gave me as a kid kind of way. I saw them in concert when I was 13 years old and pretty much cried the entire time. Yes, I was one of THOSE girls. I wasn't the obnoxious girl who screamed through the whole concert. Oh no. I was the girl bawling like a baby, next to the screaming girl. I don't know, just something about the sight of Nick Carter and his blonde hair in all its glory so close to me just made me lose it. I remember I felt really sick during the show, like I was going to throw up, and my dad said "Do you want to go home?" I looked at him as if an alien walked up to me and asked me if he could push me on the swing in the neighborhood park. "NO!" I screamed. "Dad, Nick Carter is RIGHT THERE! WE ARE NOT LEAVING!" I proceeded to sob throughout the rest of the show, went home, took my temperature and had a 102 degree fever but didn't even care. Nothing was going to separate me from The Boys, and especially not from that holy, pure, virgin of a boy Nick Carter (I was so naive back then), whom I liked to refer to as "my future husband." I saw them again when I was 18 with my mom (I'm beginning to sense a pattern here. Where were my friends? Oh that's right, I had none.) and they were amazing. Then dumbass Kevin had to leave the group and BSB fans around the world mourned. I still continued to love them, but gave up hope that they would ever reunite and things would never be the same. My world was shattered. Fast forward to 2012 when I got word the Backstreet Boys would be reuniting, all 5 of them, I was elated. Euphoric doesn't even begin to describe these feelings.
A year later when I got word that BSB would be playing a concert right by my work. I almost died instantly. I had to be there! That dream was killed the second I learned tickets were $70...and I'm broke. I was crushed, but gave myself a big girl talk and snapped out of it. You see, I have gone to concerts on a regular basis since I was 8 years old. It is one of my favorite things to do and some of my favorite moments from my life have come from going to concerts. But I had to give that up when I moved to LA, because it's so expensive to live here and concert ticket prices are just through the roof these days. I'm okay with not getting to go to concerts and do stuff like that anymore because I love living in LA so much. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it. A couple days before the show I was at work and my manager mentioned he might be able to get my friend and I tickets, but couldn't make any promises. The venue often gives my work extra tickets, because we're cool like that. I almost burst open with excitement but told myself "Get it together girl. This isn't a for sure thing. It might not work out. Don't get your hopes up." But who am I kidding? This is me we're talking about after all. In my mind, I was already there singing "Everybody, rock your body!" It wasn't until the day of the actual show that I received an email from my manager saying he got my friend and I tickets and it's confirmed. I almost peed right then and there, but my dog staring at me and what kind of example would I be setting for my son? That it's ok to pee in the apartment every time you get excited and I can't have that. I called my mom right away (because, who else am I gonna call?) and said "I'm going to see the Backstreet Boys tonight!" Then texted my friend telling her to read the email. We proceeded to do the whole girl thing, "what are you gonna wear?!" "I don't know!" "I found my outfit!" "Text me a picture!" "Ok!" "Oh my gosh, that is so cute! I have nothing to wear :(" "Whatever, you're gonna look amazing no matter what you wear, girl." You know, typical girl crap.
My friend and I get to the venue and pick up our tickets at will call. We also meet up with 2 of our other friends from work (girls, duh) who were lucky enough to get tickets through work too. We pay $11 for a Coors Light (not a rip off whatsoever) and head into the theater. We have no idea where our seats are, we are just happy to be there. We ask an usher to show us where we are sitting and he notions for us to follow him. So we do. We start walking down the stairs, down the stairs, down some more stairs and are getting closer and closer to the stage. My friend and I exchange "Oh my gosh!" looks. We finally reach our seats. Center stage, 7th row. Not bad. I did everything not to cry, and call my mom to tell her how amazing our seats were. I'm a grown woman. I did not cry and opted to send my mom a text instead. There was music playing from the moment we walked into the theater, but hadn't even noticed as I was so blindsided by our amazing seats. I look up at the stage and there is a "DJ" (if you will) playing music. "Why the fuck is Pauly D here?!" I asked my friend. You read correctly. Pauly D was some kind of weird opening act for the Backstreet Boys, for some reason only the good Lord in heaven knows. I don't care for him at all and think he's a complete joke, so I just drank my beer and after that he was much more enjoyable. Thankfully his set didn't last long and he was gone. "YES!" I screamed. "Backstreet Boy Time!" "Not just yet Colleen. Some guy named Jesse McCartney is playing next" my friend informed me. "Jesse McCartney?! What is he doing here?!" (Side note: Jesse McCartney and I have history. Remind me to tell you about the time Jesse and I took pictures together in my parents classic 1963 baby blue Ford Falcon convertible. I'll save that story for another time.) I was pleased to see Jesse perform as I used to love him back in the day, especially before he went all ghetto. "He knows he's white, right?" I ask my friend during his performance. Jesse finishes his set, we sit through another intermission that felt like 5 hours and FINALLY it's time for Backstreet Boys to take the stage. My little heart almost exploded.
The boys appear and begin singing "The Call" the crowd goes wild, my friends and I try not to cry and so begins the show. Can I just say that after all these years, these "Boys" still got it! They sounded incredible, danced amazing and put one hell of a show. They sang all their hits and some new songs as well. At one point in the show Brian and I made eye contact (because we were that close to the stage). I waved to him and he jokingly looked behind him and then pointed to himself like, "Are you waving to me?", he smiled and waved back. I panicked and blew him a kiss and he blew a kiss back along with the sweetest smile in the world. I lost my shit. My friends looked at me and we all screamed "Oh my god!" in unison "Did you guys see that?!" I felt the need to double check to make sure it wasn't something I had imagined in my 13 year old state of mind. Everyone in the audience around us looked at me with excitement and a whole lot of jealousy. I'm just gonna be honest, I liked it. "That's right ladies! That kiss was for me!" I yelled. The rest of the night pretty much went like that. We sang and danced and sang and danced and yelled inappropriate things to Nick Carter, which one mother sitting near us was not thrilled with. "Whatever lady. This is Nick Carter we're talking about and we're not kids anymore. Deal with it" I yelled, I have no idea if she heard me and frankly don't care. They sing "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" as one of their encore songs and I lost my shit....again. Screaming and singing at the top of my lungs, dancing trying not to fall over (and not because I had too much to drink. I had 1 over priced beer at the beginning of the night, but because some dumbass spilled their margarita all over the floor, which I put my purse in unknowingly, then put on my lap to find my bare legs covered in dirty, ground margarita. I was not pleased.)
The concert ends and we are on cloud 9. You're probably thinking this is where the story ends, but you're mistaken. This story is just getting started. You see, I forgot to mention one tiny detail: there is an official Backstreet Boy after party.....at my work. Apparently Nick, Kevin and Howie host after parties after every show on their "In A World Like This" tour, and this one just so happens to be at our place of employment. You had to purchase tickets for the after party. I'm not sure the exact price of these tickets, but I do know they were somewhere from $150 range, not including the concert ticket, which was entirely separate. We headed to the after party, walked right past the line and busted right through the doors thanks to the most bad ass managers on the face of this earth. We really wanted a picture with the boys and our manager told us he'd see what he could do, but again, couldn't make any promises because it was their event and we were just giving them the space for the party. We said ok. But if you know anything about me, you know that wouldn't stop me. You see, I don't know what it is, but I generally have extremely good luck with these kind of things. I couldn't tell you why, I just do. I told my friend "Don't you worry girl. I'm gonna get us our picture. These things have a way of working themselves out for me. Trust me." They roped off part of the restaurant for the VIP section, and for the stage where the boys would be at. The boys took the stage, Nick DJ'd and Kevin and Howie MC'd and got the crowd pumped. My friend and I stood in the back, but then we noticed there were girls dancing the stage with the guys. These girls had once been in the crowd with us, and the boys pulled them onstage. We see these girls dancing and singing and taking pictures with the boys and I turned to my friend and said "Oh hell no! We are getting up there!" We made our way to the back of the crowd, which wasn't a crazy amount of people, but there were a lot of girls, standing very firmly in their place. We were able to make it past a few girls then hit a brick wall, also a person that would not budge. We tried to maneuver our way past her at different angles, but this chick would not budge. And I was scared of what she might do to me if we pushed her. I said, "Screw this! Let's get their attention and they'll pull us onstage. I know they will." We made eye contact with Howie and mouthed "Can we come up?!" He said "Yeah!" and waved us over. But there was still a sea of alarmingly strong girls we had to pass. We squeezed past a couple other girls, only to get shoved into another girl and all I heard was "BITCH!" Some chick pushed my friend into me, which pushed me into another girl and now everyone was pissed. We stood our ground, and tried for round two of eye contact with Howie. Again, he waved us up on stage, and we tried to squeeze past the girls and I got elbowed in the stomach. "Fuck this! We are going around." I informed my friend. We walked around to the side of the stage and the VIP section that was roped off. I started talking to the young, cute, security guard and explained to him our dilemma. I told him Howie invited us on stage not once, but twice, but the army of fans would not allow it. He felt bad for us. Just then one of our coworkers who was working the event walked by (in their uniform of course) and we said, "Hey! What's up?" The security guard said, "Do you work here" we said "yes" then he said "hang on just a second" walked over to someone and whispered something in their ear. They looked at us and nodded their head. "Just one more second" he said. My friend and I exchanged "Oh hell yes!" glances. We were so close. The security had his hand on the rope to lift it and a security guard for the Backstreet Boys stopped him and said "No, sorry. They're only pulling girls onstage from the audience. No one can get onstage this way." "But Howie invited us!" we shrieked. "Sorry, but no one is allowed in this way." The cute security guard said, "Sorry ladies. There's nothing I can do. I have to abide by their rules." Never in my life have I felt so defeated. Just then my manager walks over, lifts the velvet rope, looks at all the security guards and says "They're good. Let them through." YES! We start to walk, and this lady grabs us and says, "Wait a minute!" Panicked, we looked to my manager, who ensured her that we were fine and we are employees. She released her firm grip on my arm and said "Oh, ok, I just saw you guys in the crowd and then thought you were trying to sneak your way up here." "No, we work here, it's ok." I said in my sweetest voice possible. We were in.
We walk over to the stage to get closer to the stage only to find another roadblock: the entrance to the stage was blocked. "Son of a bitch!" I yelled to my friend. Granted it was just a chair blocking it and we could have moved it, there was all this equipment and 2 guys standing were standing in the way. It was obvious no one was supposed to go that way unless they were the sound guys or whatever. But Nick Carter was literally so close we could have touched him if we reached out and leaned over the wall. We decided our best bet to get our damn picture with Nick would be to the side of the DJ booth and slowly inch our way closer and closer to him and pray that no one noticed. We began executing our plan, then the 2 guys who were standing there started talking to us. "This could go one of two ways" I said aloud in my head "We can flirt with them and they'll help us get our picture, or they will turn us away." Luckily for us, we are both blonde and it ended up being option number one. Only we didn't have to flirt. They were the ones flirting with us. "JACKPOT. This is going to be so easy," I whispered to my friend. We make small talk and the guys introduce themselves to us and tell them that we work at the restaurant, which for some reason, they thought was really awesome. One of the guys introduces himself and then says "And this is my cousin. He's friends with Nick. We live in Calabasas but my cousin and Nick are neighbors, they both have beach houses in Malibu." I nod politely and say, "Cool. Malibu, huh. That must be nice." acting unimpressed. Then he goes, "Do you guys want a picture with Nick?" I say, "I mean, only if we can. It's not a big deal if he can't do it. We don't want to cause any problems." "Not at all! Hang on, he'll get Nick."I turn to my friend and mouthed "Mission Accomplished." His cousin leans over and whispers something to Nick, Nick looks at us, nods his head and puts up one finger, (no, not that finger people) the "hang on one minute" finger. The guys continue to talk to us and start dancing with us while we wait for Nick. I mean, they are on us and clearly not going anywhere. We still wanted our picture so we went along with it. My friend and I turn and look to the side of the stage and see our manager looking at us and completely cracking up, laughing so hard. He knew exactly what was going on and what we were doing and he thought it was hilarious. We looked at him laughed, and then turned back and danced with the guys. Finally they say Nick is ready for us. I throw my camera at one of our new friends (the guys) and push myself as close as I can to Nick Carter. My friend of course did the same on the other side of him. We have the biggest smiles on our faces. I'm sure we looked like giddy junior high school girls, but we didn't care: We got our picture! We said thank you, looked at the picture right away (obviously) squealed in approval. It turned out cute! We were pleased. We hung out with the guys for the remainder of the night. The bought us a couple drinks, we exchanged numbers and then they invited us to come hang out at their beach house in Malibu afterwards. I looked at my friend and said "Ummmm, they just invited us to their beach house?!?" Now as tempting as that sounds, I've gotta say: Mama didn't raise no fool! At this point was 2 AM. I was not about to go all the way to Malibu, to a stranger's house, by myself. My friend had to leave, and so did I actually. Even if my friend and I decided to go together, it would still not be the smartest idea. A stranger is a stranger. I don't care how nice, or cool, or glamorous they may seem. I really had to get back to my poor dog who had been locked up in my apartment for 9 hours. I was just praying to God he hadn't committed suicide by now. And I have no AC in my apartment and was hotter than balls that night. Fans and open windows can only do so much. I explained to the guys that as great as it sounds, I had to get back to my dog. And I was exhausted. They understood but told us, "You are always welcome to come over and hang. We kick it and chill and have people over all the time. Nick comes over a lot too." Dude, you had me at Malibu Beach House. I'm not trying to get with Nick Carter. You don't have to sell me on the fact that you guys are friends. I know you are and that's great for you. I have friends too. They just don't have 2nd houses in Malibu. Hell, they don't have houses. We live in apartments. We keep it real...because we're poor. But hey, at least we're happy, right? I did not tell them this, because I did not have the energy to explain. We said goodbye and said we'll all hang out soon.
My friend leaves and I meet up with my other friend whom we got separated from during the scrambling to get onstage madness. We went into the back of our restaurant to grab or belongings to head home and our manager runs down the stairs and says "Hey! What are you two doing?! Follow me!" We drop our stuff on the ground and chase our manager up the stairs and he leads us to the meet and greet line. We give each other "OMGEE!" looks to express our excitement. If you've noticed, we do that a lot. Sometimes a glance is all it takes. We don't need words to understand what the other is thinking or feeling. We jump in at the very end of the line and wait in anticipation. It's finally our turn and we are escorted into the room where Nick, Howie and Kevin greet us with smiling faces. They hug us all, ask us how we're doing, what we thought of the show and thanked us for coming out. We took a picture with them, along with 2 random girls (some weird meet and greet rules. Whatevs, we couldn't care less) thanked them and ran away the way a child runs down the hall towards their presents on Christmas morning. We ran back downstairs grabbed our stuff and just stared at each other with ginormous smiles, beaming from ear to ear. We didn't say a single word. We didn't need to. The smiles said it all. We hugged and headed out to our cars, said goodbye, still beaming.
As I drove away I rolled down the windows, turned up the music and blasted "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" as it was only the appropriate way to end the night. As I drove home I took in the sights around me, the palm trees, the bright lights of Hollywood and replayed back the entire night in my mind. I started to tear up because sometimes I can't believe where I'm at, how far I've come and can't even believe my own life sometimes. I don't live a crazy, glamorous life and couldn't be further from it. But I have come a long way just in the 16 months that I've been back in Los Angeles. I can't believe how lucky I am for all the amazing friends and memories I've made so far. Living in LA can be hard at times: I'm broke, I work my ass off, 3 jobs, 7 days a week, just to pay my bills. Which can be exhausting and leaves hardly any time or money to do much of anything. That's not me complaining, it's just the reality of living in LA. I knew what I was getting myself into, I signed up for it. I love living here so much that I'm willing to do whatever I need to do to stay here. I know I won't have to work this hard and be broke for the rest of my life. It's temporary and I'm just starting out. So when I experience rare nights like these, I almost can't believe it's real but couldn't be more grateful for them. A night like this would never ever happen if I was still living in Sacramento. These kinds of things only happen in LA, which is why it's so crazy and exciting to be here at times. Nights like these give me hope that things are going to get better and remind me that this is just the beginning. THIS story is why I love living in Los Angeles so much: Anything is possible.
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