Backstreet Mom: A Mother's Tale of Backstreet Boy AJ McLean's Rise to Fame, Struggle With Addiction, and Ultimate Triumph (15 page)

Lou met with both parties. For the good of the boys, he decided to
hire the Wrights and let Jean go. Since jean had been there from the
start, we felt badly about her departure, but Lou assured us that he
would take care of everything. He said that everyone would end up
happy. Naturally, we believed him.

Meanwhile, I started working in the management office, creating the
tools we needed to broaden the fan database. Things like merchandise,
pictures, cassette tapes and the like. I tried to come up with a way we
could start collecting names of potential fans as the boys ventured out
into public for performances at malls and the like.

The next challenge was to figure out how Nick, Alex and Brian could
keep up with their schoolwork and their rehearsal schedule. They had
to be available almost all the time for appearances since public exposure
was the key to getting them known. The countless hours spent on performances, photo shoots and appearances meant that we had to find an
alternate method of schooling.

The school principal had called me several times about Alex's absences during the last few months. Nick attended a middle school in
Tampa, which meant that he had to be driven back and forth about a
hundred miles a day for rehearsals. Brian was in his last year, but his
school in Kentucky was willing to accommodate his career. It was a
nightmare. The toll it was beginning to take on the boys scared me.

Lou was reluctant to advance money for tutoring, but with the help
of the other parents we managed to convince him that it was necessary.
We found a local tutoring company called Education In Action. Owned
by a lovely lady named Susan Horton, it provided on-set schooling for
young actors and actresses while they worked on movies and television
shows in Orlando.

Since each boy was at a different educational level, we had to deal
with the boys on an individual basis. Brian was the easiest because he
only had to finish out his senior year and keep up his grades. We hired
a tutor through Susan's company who would travel with him when necessary or come to the band house. Nick had to be tutored as well, but at
middle school level. Again, we were able to hire someone to travel with
him when necessary. Sometimes it was the same person who worked
with Brian.

Alex was another story. His high school did not want to cooperate.
Their policy was that once Alex exceeded his sick-day limit, he either
had to drop out or get bumped back a year. Neither option was acceptable. Susan and I tried to convince the school board that Alex wanted to
finish high school while pursuing his career.

That debate continued for weeks. Finally the school suggested that
Alex be enrolled in an experimental school that had been set up to help
high-school dropouts from underprivileged families continue their education while also working full time. Most of those kids had to help
their single-parent households financially.

In order for Alex to attend that school, he had to become a dropout.
Go figure. The school system made him quit so that he could attend the
special program rather than work with our qualified tutors to maintain
his classes. Neither Alex nor I understood that logic. When I sat him
down and told him what his options were he was amazed. He kept telling me that all he wanted was to graduate with his class no matter what
it took. His principal was good enough to agree to that.

I filled out the paperwork for him to drop out of school. Then we
went to sign up for the Challenger Program as it was called. What a
difference it was working with people who understood our situation!
They were so helpful and understanding that I could barely believe it.
Susan, Alex and I worked for days with the administration and staff of
the Challenger School to come up with an appropriate program for Alex.

State guidelines said that every student had to attend a minimum
three hours of classes each day. When we were at home that was no
problem, but when we traveled it required some creative juggling. We
had to make sure that three hours were set aside each day for tutoringnot an easy task when you had
managers who were desperately
trying to get these boys seen everywhere at once.

The music business is like a
hole that sucks you inside and
grows larger with each success. It
allows no room for the real world.
It is comprised mostly of fantasy
and the promise of all things shiny
and bright. Not too much reality
there! That might be fine if you are
an adult with a mind of your own,
but if you are an impressionable
young boy of fourteen or sixteen
or even eighteen, you have zero
defense against that fantasy world.

Alex on his sixteenth birthday

Lou unintentionally contributed to that fantasy by telling the boys that
when they became famous they would always ride in limos and private
jets and eat in only the best restaurants. He backed that promise by displaying his own boyish toys-limos, boats, planes and airships. He took
the boys on shopping trips and to fine dining establishments.

At the time, it all seemed okay, given how hard the boys worked. But,
little by little, they lost touch with reality. Alex was not too bad at first.
None of the boys were really. They were so wide-eyed and new that it
really didn't affect them right away. It took years for that to happen.

As the tour grew closer, Susan and I prepared the schedule the boys
would have to follow during the summer months for their classes. Already, they had gotten behind. The one saving grace to this new schedule was that they could actually bank hours. On those days when they
couldn't put in the necessary class time, we simply withdrew the needed hours from their "bank."

The summer came and went rather quickly Before we knew it, the
time had come to hit the road for a tour of middle schools and high schools
from Florida to Ohio. I had quit my job and started working in the management office months before. My former boss came to a couple of mall
appearances to check the boys out. He relished telling me that my job
would be waiting for me when I got back from this little adventure.

"The odds are against you, you know," he said.

For Alex's sake, I looked at it as an opportunity that I could not pass
up. Ten years down the road I didn't want to be explaining to him why I
didn't let him give it his best shot. Whether he succeeded or not, at least
he was giving it his all.

Leaving for that first tour was only the beginning. Mom never did get
used to our being gone so often. The phone bills rose considerably when
the boys were out of town, but it was worth it because it gave Mom and
Dad peace of mind to know we were okay.

We used a bus that once belonged to a traveling airship crew. As we
lumbered along the hills and valleys that took us to the middle schools
and high schools of America, we learned why the bus had been so generously bequeathed to us. The engine had problems on an almost daily
basis. We spent many an afternoon playing football beside the road while
the bus driver worked on the engine.

On a trip through the Midwest during late November, the bus's heater went out as we were on our way to attend a 10:00 A.M. school assembly. We bundled up in every article of clothing we had, but that wasn't
enough to keep us warm. Still shivering, we drove from fast-food restaurant to fast-food restaurant, drinking cup after cup of hot tea, cocoa or coffee in order to stay warm. We did not want the boys' voices to
freeze up on stage. Our efforts paid off. The show went without a hitch.

As far as having roadies to do the grunt work, let's just say, "You're
looking at `em!" Our roadies consisted of the five boys, one manager,
one soundman and me. Whether it meant setting up or breaking down
equipment, or lugging wardrobe cases, we did it all. It really was about
teamwork in the early (as well as lean) days.

The number of hats that I wore seemed to increase on a daily basis.
As I worked my way into becoming an integral part of the team, I reveled in the creative freedom I was given. No longer was I merely in
charge of the boys' clothing. I was assistant soundman, hair and makeup girl and miniature merchandiser, all rolled into one.

Being virtual unknowns meant giving away more stuff than we sold.
I kept busy handing out free cassettes of their first single, a song titled
"Tell Me That I'm Dreaming," which they recorded for Lou's Trans Continental Records. The fans that we picked up along the way gave us a
substantial fan base. To this day, we still get phone calls from people
who say that the Backstreet Boys once played at their school.

After that tour, it was back to Florida for a brief rest before heading to
New York City for a showcase at which we hoped to impress record
executives. According to Lou this was necessary for the boys to get the
promotional backing of a major label. I was a bit unsure about the whole
thing. It seemed pretty scary to put the boys on such display With the
schedules they had been keeping, I feared they might get sick or have
stage fright.

None of the boys (with perhaps the exception of Nick, who grew up
in upstate New York) had ever been to New York City. Our excitement
began in earnest the moment we climbed out of our cavernous limousine. That, by the way, is no exaggeration. That limo was a monstrosity.
As we took a moment to soak up our surroundings, an obviously very
swank and ritzy hotel loomed in front of us, seemingly larger than life.
It wasn't just any hotel: it was the Plaza Hotel.

Alex hopped around like the Energizer Bunny. I think the only words
uttered from any one of the boys were, "Oh my God!" or "Yes, we're
really here!" There they stood, those five young men, a few of them still
just kids, all decked out in pristine white shirts and perfectly knotted
black neckties. Their blue jeans were so new that they still had creases
running down the front.

The Plaza had always been a landmark to me, given the fact that I grew
up not too far away (just across the bridge, in New Jersey). It brought back
memories of trips to the big city when I was growing up. My grandmother took me twice a year-once during Easter to see the show at Radio City
Music Hall, and then again at Christmas to see the trees and lights at
Lincoln Center. During those visits, I probably felt the way I felt as an
adult: like a kid going to pick out her new holiday clothes.

After checking in, we were introduced to the two people who would
remain with us for the duration of our stay. They were the first bodyguards the boys had ever known. One was a young, very tall, dark and
handsome off-duty street cop named Mark. We found out later that he
apparently did part-time work for Lou whenever he came into the city.
We were never quite sure what the second man did. He was a short, very
Italian-looking young man who always dressed in shiny suits and sharp
shoes. We were immediately reminded of Joe Pesci, so that is what we
called him.

We got to our rooms and settled in for the night. Alex and I shared a
room. I think we just talked ourselves to sleep that night. I asked him if
he was nervous about the showcase. He told me not really since they
would be doing the same songs they had done all through the summer
tour and so it was no big deal.

"I am kind of nervous about signing a record contract," Alex said.

"Don't worry," I told him. "Nothing will be finalized during this trip."

Getting a record deal was ... well, a big deal. I couldn't imagine any
record company hearing a group and then making an offer on the spot.
Commitments of that magnitude required a great deal of thought and
research. All too soon I would find out just how naive I was about the
music business.

The next morning, I went down to the main lobby without Alex to
have breakfast. I was enjoying a cup of coffee when I heard a voice that
I instantly recognized.

"Mom, Mom," the voice said. "I can't find my jeans or sneakers."

I turned around and saw Alex standing in the lobby, wearing only his
boxer shorts, white socks and a big smile.