So many parts that I have to play.
A tangle with life set me up that way,
Now I know,
These are the words that I have to say.
Won't you let me...
Won't you hear me cry...
- Seal, "I’m Alive"
The tour had been well-received and earned a number of favorable reviews in the European press. Now, the Backstreet Boys camp was anxious to show off the production to the North American audience. Before that could happen, however, there was thankfully a short vacation. The filming of the music video for "Larger Than Life" was the only work-related obligation scheduled for the entire month of August. This time the group had finagled so filming could take place close to home – the soundstages at Universal Studios, Florida.
The clip would be high energy, highly technical – something originally conceptualized by Nick, and they were bringing back Joseph Kahn to direct. It was hard work, but they had a few breaks thanks to Ananda Lewis and the MTV special Backstreet Live, which coincided with the release of the tickets for the North American tour.
It took longer than usual to see the video’s finished product because of all the computer imagery that had to be spliced with the live action, but the Boys sat down at the studio with Joseph for the screening a little over a week later.
They all agreed that it was an amazing video. Somehow though, Howie didn’t feel as content as the others did. A few weeks later, he saw the video on MTV’s Total Request Live and realized that he again lacked screen time.
‘An honest mistake,’ he told himself, but thinking back to the other times he had been shafted on vocals or videos, the strained smile on his face spoke differently.
* ~ * ~ *
It was December before the Boys concluded their latest leg of the concert tour. They would have finished a few days earlier had they not had to makeup two dates in Fort Lauderdale they had originally postponed due to Hurricane Floyd.
Performing nearly every night for three months – not to mention the various extra curricular activities like fan conferences and nights on the town – had exhausted everyone. The group members were also anxious to see family and friends. Howie had missed the rest of the Dorough clan terribly although his sister Pollyanna, brother John and mother Paula had joined him on tour at various intervals. He had also had the luxury of seeing his girlfriend during their week-long stopover in the Toronto, Canada-Upstate New York region. Most of the time, however, his relationships with loved ones were kept alive via cellphone or email. He often thanked God for the invention of the information superhighway and his own foresight for buying a state-of-the-art laptop before their trip to Europe.
Howie also used the down time and his internet access to scan the world wide web’s latest offerings. On several occasions, he found himself at a search engine typing the words "Backstreet Boys" before pressing the return key. Nearly every time, he had to steel himself against what he found.
Certainly on those webpages designed as a tribute to the band as a whole he had a presence, but there was a decided lack of fan sites dedicated solely to him. Of the fan fiction stories he discovered, he was either missing or portrayed as a Class A jackass. ‘So much for Sweet D?’ he sighed. There were a few that he truly enjoyed reading thanks to their romantic undertones and creative description.
Howie spent time lurking in Backstreet chatrooms and read posts on message boards. He noticed that although there were people who felt he was only the band’s backup singer, plenty more defended his role in the group. There were also those who claimed him as their favorite – a fact that made his heart swell with pride.
That feeling was fleeting, disappearing nearly as quickly as it had appeared. Upon return from the tour, he had gone to the fan club headquarters to discover his bins of mail were stacked visibly shorter than those of the other guys. Kevin’s mail had seemingly doubled since People magazine had dubbed him "Sexiest Pop Star."
Kevin used to share the obscurity with Howie in the early days of the Backstreet phenomenon, always taking second to A.J., Nick and Brian. Neither received many chances to sing lead by nature of their vocal range. The fans often had difficulty identifying with the duo as well mostly due to their age. That had changed recently, though. The pair sang more leads on the Millennium album. And there was the ever-growing 20-plus female fan base. Both added up to more attention for the eldest BSB members.
Of course, much of that newfound adulation landed in Kevin’s lap. He was the man of mystery, the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. Combine the air and the rugged good looks with the smooth deep voice and Southern accent, the ladies almost literally dropped at his feet.
And Howie? What could he say about himself? He thought back to things he had read as he glanced only half-aware into the mirror that hung in the vestibule. His eyes. Deep chocolate brown eyes, he remembered the words. And the curls. Funny though, these days he rarely loosened his dark hair from the now trademark ponytail in public and yet a lot of fans still remembered. That was something, right? Oh, and many had mentioned his intelligence – something assumed thanks to the articulate answers he gave in interviews, the college degree he had hanging on the wall of his home office and business he had built on the side.
But for as many that complimented him, there were others that refuted those same claims. A couple of fan fictions alluded to some of the nastier comments, which Howie couldn’t bare to repeat even to himself. Each one brought pain as if someone were performing acupuncture on his very heart and soul.
What had happed to the old saying: ‘If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all?’
Oh, but there was one thing most of his fans and critics could agree upon. Sweet D. It was then he realized there was an adage that just might ring true.
Nice guys finish last.
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