I stared at her.  “Oh.”  Oooh.  Good one, Carter.  Feeling particularly witty today, are we?

She smiled back at me.

“It’s just that you don’t look… I mean I didn’t think…”

“Oh, I think you can stop right there,” she advised.

“I’m sorry,” my head hung a little lower than normal.

“It’s fine.  So.  Since when do Backstreet Boys smoke?” she asked me.

“Uh well.  I don’t.  Either.  I guess.”  I smiled at her.  Yep.  Nick Carter, conversationalist extraordinaire

“Stressed too?” she asked.

“Yeah.”  Hope Kyri felt like holding up my end of the conversation today.

“I understand.  It’s cool.  But you should be used to it, shouldn’t you?  I mean you’ve been in this business for years, right?  We’re just getting started.”

“Well, yeah, but the demands never really get less stressful.  More stressful if anything,”  I admitted.

“Great.  Thanks for giving me something to look forward to,” she smiled.

Wow.  I would stand on my head and tap dance on the ceiling if she would just keep smiling at me like that.

“It’s not that bad, I guess.  Like the guys are my best friends, my brothers.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t think I didn’t read the liner notes in every cd.”

“I thought rocker girls were supposed to be the gritty jaded ones?” I questioned.  OOOH!  Good one.  Some actual wit. 

“Ever heard there’s a tear in my beer?”  Kyri lit another cigarette.

“Cuz I’m cryin’ for ya dear.  Yeah I’ve heard it.” I replied.

“Sounds pretty jaded to me,” she offered.  “And besides, Jess is the one on tour, she’s the country chick.  Who’s to say I am?”

“I just figured since you were her manager you were a country girl too.”  I seemed to be constantly defending myself.

“Ever heard of Mutt Lange?” she asked me.

“Ah.  Shania’s husband.  He’s a producer.”  I informed her.

“Touche, Carter.” Kyri smiled again.

And for my next trick…

“So what do you down home girls do after the show?” I asked.

“Well, we’re still young.  We go out of course.  Get drunk.  Take random boys back to the hotel.

I must have looked startled. 

“I’m kidding of course.  It depends.”

“On?” I questioned.

“are you asking me, or are you asking permission from Jess’s manager?”

“I’m asking you,” I smiled at her.