Superstar

Chapter 15 - Your Face

I've got a picture of you in my bedroom
And I hope it never falls
And I hope I never lose that feeling
I used to get when you would call
And now I wonder to myself
Who were you and where are you?
Were you ever here at all?
- "Your Face" by Taylor Swift

"Yes sir, I will meet you there at four-thirty tomorrow," Taylor said, trying to hold her cell phone between her ear and her shoulder while typing something on her computer. "Yes sir, see you then."

She put her cell phone down and it immediately rung again.

That had been her life the past six weeks. Since coming back from Europe, she had kept herself busy. Several different artists had heard that she worked with the Backstreet Boys in Europe and had booked her to shoot several of their shows over the country.

Kelly Clarkson. Keith Urban. John Mayer. Even some new country singer named Taylor Swift who had just released her first single about Tim McGraw.

She owed most of that to Nick, even though she hadn't spoken with him since he called her barely a month ago to tell her the book was done and asked if she received her check.

A check for $50,000.

The check was still on her dresser in her bedroom. She hadn't cashed it yet. She felt weird about cashing it.

But not as weird as she felt talking with Nick on the phone. It was an awkward, quiet conversation. He asked how she was. She did the same. He asked what she had been up to. She asked the same. Then it was goodbye, I miss you and they both hung up.

She hadn't heard from him since.

"Yes sir," she said, telling an upcoming country singer's manager goodbye. She couldn't remember the singers name right off the bat, but she would make sure she knew it by the time she went to take publicity photos the next day.

She looked at the clock to see that it was only six o'clock. Definitely too early for a drink, but it was a Saturday night. The race was coming on and she didn't feel like watching it alone at home.

She stood up from her desk and walked into her bedroom and stopped like she always did when she saw the huge photo of Nick on her wall. She hadn't taken it down yet. Something kept telling her to but there was something inside of her that was proud of it.

It didn't matter what happened with them, the photo was staying.

"Hey T, long time no see," Larry the bartender said as Taylor walked into the bar in a big sweatshirt and a baseball cap. "Where you been?"

"Hey Larry, been working a lot," Taylor said as she sat down on a bar stool and looked up to see the race starting. "Can't believe I've been missing the races. Who's been doing good?"

"Johnson," Larry said. "Looks like he might win the championship this year."

"Great," she said, rolling her eyes as Larry handed her the usual, a Bud Light. "Johnson winning a championship... that's all I need."

Larry laughed and walked to the other end of the bar to wait on another customer that walked in.

"Just a beer," the guy, who had on a Clint Bowyer Jack Daniels jacket, said as Taylor glanced down to the other end of the bar and froze.

"Nick?" she asked as the guy looked up and she sighed. "Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"Everything okay?" Larry asked as Taylor sighed and nodded.

"Just peachy," Taylor whispered, looking down at her drink before taking a huge swallow.

Taylor woke up the next morning with a pounding headache. Or at least she thought it was morning.

It was actually after noon.

She had one too many beers the night before. She wasn't planning on drinking that much but when she saw the guy in the Clint Bowyer jacket, she couldn't help herself. She was one, two, three, maybe four beers and a few margaritas.

Hell, she didn't even remember who won the race.

She sat up on the side of her bed and ran her fingers through her hair when there was a knock at the door.
Maybe Tori, the roommate, was back from tour with her latest client, whoever that was. They hadn't talked much since she had came back from the Backstreet Boys tour.

She looked down, seeing that she still had the same clothes on from the night before and stumbled her way out of the bedroom to the front door.

"Who is it?" she asked, looking out the peep hole.

"Federal Express package for Taylor Daughtry," the man said as Taylor opened the door to see the delivery man outside.

"Deliveries on Sunday?" Taylor asked as the man handed the clipboard for her to sign.

"For special packages," the man said. "We stopped by last night but nobody answered."

"Sorry, I was out," she smiled as the man handed her the big, white box.

"Well here you go, Ms. Daughtry. Have a great Sunday," the man said as Taylor smiled and closed the door.

She looked down at the box as she walked back to the bedroom and noticed it was from a publishing company. She grabbed a pair of scissors and cut open the box to see a stack of books inside.

It was Nick's book.

She swallowed, taking a copy out and ran her hand over the cover. It was hardback and white with three photos of him performing on the cover, along with his signature engraved in silver.

She opened the book, seeing the title page.

Nick Carter
A Picture's Worth A Thousand Words
Words by Nick Carter
Photography by Taylor Daughtry

He put her name as a byline with is. She didn't ask him to do that.

She turned the page to see the dedication page.

To my fans – you are the reason I came up with the idea for this book.
- Love, Nick

Below the text was a photo of Nick and a couple of fans that Taylor had taken outside of a hotel in Rome. She smiled, running her fingertips over the photo.

She turned the next page, which was blank and paused, seeing one of the photos that Nick took of her at the cabin.

Below it were a few words.

To Taylor – Thank you for teaching me about photography, about life and most importantly, what it's like to be normal. I miss you and I love you, too.
- Your biggest fan, Nick

Tears began rolling down Taylor's cheeks as she stared down at the words. She ran her fingers over them just to make sure that she wasn't seeing things.

She wasn't.

She turned the page to see a few of her older photos under the chapter title "Chapter 1 – A Fan's Perspective."

Before I knew photographer Taylor Daughtry, she was a huge Backstreet Boys fan. She was also a huge fan of me. After I hired her to take photographs of the current tour for this book, she showed me older photographs that she had taken of me with the group and during my solo tour when she was simply a fan. I asked if I could use a few in this book and she agreed.

These are photos from my solo tour for my album "Now or Never" from shows in Florida, Georgia and Illinois.

She began turning through the pages, looking at the photos. She reached Chapter 2 – The First Night.

She missed his face. His eyes. His nose. His lips.

She missed him period. Now what was she going to do about it?