Backstreet Mom: A Mother's Tale of Backstreet Boy AJ McLean's Rise to Fame, Struggle With Addiction, and Ultimate Triumph (40 page)

BOOK: Backstreet Mom: A Mother's Tale of Backstreet Boy AJ McLean's Rise to Fame, Struggle With Addiction, and Ultimate Triumph
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I resigned from my position with the Backstreet Boys and started my
own consulting company, Timing is Everything. With my experience, I
felt that maybe I could do some good with other young artists in the
area. I still had the old fan-club office, so I just changed gears. Nicole
stayed on to help. Technically, she still worked for the boys, but she did
not know how long that would last.

I was still very active in Alex's financial affairs. As his portfolio grew, I
learned more about how to invest for his future. During that time, I also
became involved with a
former boyfriend. The time
had come for me to work on
my personal life as well. My
mom and dad were another
large factor in my decision
to leave the Backstreet Boys.
They were getting older and
health issues were beginning to surface. I needed to
be there for them. I wanted
to make certain they had
everything they needed.

Me with the very sweet Alice Cooper

I felt that I had a lot of
loose ends with my family
and wanted to be sure to tie
them all up. I had spent so
much time out on the road
in recent years that I did
not really feel like a part of
the family anymore. I needed to get my life back on track in so many
ways. Also, Nicole had begun planning her wedding and I wanted to be
a part of that.

To help manage Alex's assets, I enlisted the help of my niece, Kelly,
and her husband. I figured that we needed to surround ourselves with
people who could be trusted. In my mind, that meant family. It was not
so much the money staying within our little group as it was the trust
factor. Everyone outside of my family seemed to have their own agendas when it came to Alex and his money. There is an old saying that
more money brings more problems. Whoever said that was right.

Kelly helped with accounting and paying bills and my nephew Bill
Cline, who was a plumber by trade, helped keep our houses in running
condition. He was very good at fixing most everything and my son had
acquired a lot of stuff: cars that needed to be serviced, a house that
needed yard work and more. I also needed his help since I was living
alone.

During one of Alex's infrequent visits to Orlando, we had a brief conversation in my bedroom that, looking back, I should have paid closer
attention to. Communicating at length was foreign to us at that point in
our relationship. Our conversations usually ended with frustration, anger
and exasperation.

On that particular day, I was trying to reach out and convey to him
how important it was to maintain the lines of communication with his
grandparents. I told him that they were beginning to experience some
health problems that had me concerned.

Out of the blue, Alex confessed that he felt he had a problem. He said
he partied too much and drank too much. Alex always had a flair for the
dramatic. His comment was so unexpected that my first instinct was to
brush it aside as nothing more than an attempt to change the subject. I
see now that I was in denial. Certainly, I did not realize that I was making it possible for him to continue his self-destructive behavior.

 
CHAPTER TWELVE
AJ-1 /Alex-0

THE 2000 GRAMMY AWARDS, which took place in February, should
have been a high point for the Backstreet Boys. The boys were nominated in four categories, including "Record of the Year," which put them
up against Cher, Santana, Ricky Martin and TLC, and "Album of the
Year," a category that also included the Dixie Chicks, Diana Krall, Santana and TLC. They had sold more than ten million copies of their most
recent album, Millennium-and they were arguably the hottest male
group in the world.

When I arrived in Los Angeles, I expected to find everyone overjoyed, but I sensed an enormous amount of tension between Alex and
the other boys. Nobody was talking, so I didn't know what the problem
was.

To the boys' disappointment, they lost in all four categories, with the
top awards-"Best Record of the Year" and "Best Album of the Year"going to music veteran Carlos Santana.

I planned to leave immediately after the awards, but Alex said that he
wanted to spend some quality time with me and insisted that I extend
my stay. Once again, Alex's excessive nightlife took precedence over any
good intentions that he might have had. He never showed up for our visit. As I sat alone in my hotel room, I grew angrier by the minute and
was left to wonder what had happened to my son.

I did not track Alex down until the following day. When I finally
reached him on the telephone, he said, "Gee, Mom, I have been in the
studio writing-heading back there now. Why don't you come with me?"

"What about the quality time we planned to spend together?"

"As soon as I am done there today, which should only be a couple of
hours," Alex said. "We will go out just the two of us."

"Okay," I said, "but I really don't want to hang around there all night
with you."

"No, Mom," he said. "Really, it won't take long and I need your help
to talk to someone."

"Who?" I asked, not eager to get involved in more work.

"The guys we are working with have a manager who wants to show
us a contract for some songs we are writing and I want you to look it
over."

It turned out that the guys that Alex had been spending his time with
in the studio were some mutual friends, members of a band named EYC
that had opened for the boys years before and had since split up. Alex
wanted to help them write some new material in the hopes that they
might get back together and land a new record deal.

I went to the studio with Alex, but after hanging out there for several
hours, I realized that he was not going to leave anytime soon, so I took a
cab back to the hotel. On the
way, I called Alex's bodyguard,
Marcus Johnson, a very large
black man with close-cropped
hair and a dazzling white smile.
I asked him to change my flight
back to Orlando. I wanted to
leave first thing the next day.

Alex plays with puppy Panda on
the tour bus

As I was leaving my room
the following day, Alex called.

"Mom, Marcus told me that
you changed your flight.
What's up?"

By then, I was not in the
best of moods. "I am sick of the same routine with you, Alex," I
said. "You say one thing and do
another. I don't need to be here,
spending money on a hotel room
when I can be home resting up
from the last tour."

"But I thought we were going
to do some things together?"

"Alex, be real-I am not going
to sit around until you find the
time to spare for me. I am done."

Alex with Panda on Halloween

With that, I went down to my
cab and left. Nothing more was
said and Alex did not return to
Orlando right away. Instead, he
went to New York with one of his unsavory friends. It was then that I
realized that there was more to his personality change than met the
eye. I was worried at that point, but I was unable to put my finger on
exactly why.

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