Doing my happy dance through the house I made up a little chant to go with the dance.
“I’m gonna see some hotties, I’m gonna see some hotties!”
Over and over I would belt this out to the whole house. Finally my parents got sick of hearing me talk about the Backstreet Boys. I just had to wait until I saw them later that night in concert.

After several hours of anxious waiting, I was at the show. The night thus far had went perfect. The Guys were singing ‘I Want It That Way’ as an encore and the crowd was eating it up. I knew the ending was coming and was sad to see it go. I’d have to wait another year to see those luscious babes again. But I turned my attention back to the stage. I loved being front row center. Crystal clear view, excellent pictures and the sound was awesome.
Suddenly when Nick started singing his part, everyone behind me started pushing forward. The security guards were screaming, pushing back hard and I thought my lungs were going to collapse. The pressure was too much and I fell forwarded, onto one of the metal gates. Fifteen or so people fell on top of me, crushing my chest even further into the metal bars.
The concert was stopped, the boys ordered to get off the stage quickly and the whole arena was told to leave. The show was over. The fans piled out of the doors, the people on top of my ‘broken’ body removed themselves and left, sneering a few dirty words at the guards.
“But you!” One guard shouted. “You are coming with us.”
Two of the biggest, scariest men in there, pulled me to my feet and started to drag me to the backstage part of the arena.
I couldn’t say a word amidst my tears of pain. I kept trying to grab my leg, but the guards held firmly onto my arms as if thinking I would try to escape.
Soon I was seated in the security room, and told not to move, even though I couldn’t because of the men surrounding me. I was staring out the window when I saw blue and red flashing lights. They stopped and soon entered a gangly man.  I was told that I was going to be arrested and charged. The Backstreet Boys didn’t take any tolerance of any kind of disturbing behavior.
All I could do is cry, not because of what was happening but because my leg was in so much pain.
The officer kneeled down in front of me, trying to comfort me somehow.
“What’s your name?” He asked, giving me a fake smile.
“My leg….it hurts,” I managed to say.
He looked me in the eyes and then down to my leg. Pulling up my pant leg, you could see the bone purging through the skin, blood running down freely.
“Dear God. Someone get a doctor…quick!” He screamed, looking at the door.
What seemed like hours passed, and finally my leg was put into a splint. The security guards where still determined to get me arrested, and insisted that I wasn’t moved…for any reason.
After my tears subsided, I said, “I didn’t do anything. I just came to watch the concert and nothing else.”
They didn’t seem to buy it, completely ignoring me.
I crossed my arms and waited for the paramedics to finish, wishing I could go to the hospital.
“Sir what are you doing?” I heard a distant security officer ask, trying to hold someone back.
“I heard a fan got hurt, I wanted to make sure she was okay.”
Just then, I saw Nick Carter walk around the corner. His eyes scanned the room and then saw me. My cheeks red from the tear stains, and my leg held up by a cardboard box the medics had found.
Sitting down next to me, I managed to keep my cool.
“I saw what happened, and it’s not your fault,” He said with a smile, resting his hand on my good leg.

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