Sad Dancing With the Stars Diaries: Nick Carter Finds Some New BFFs

Illustration for article titled Sad Dancing With the Stars Diaries: Nick Carter Finds Some New BFFs

Sad Dancing With the Stars Diaries is a new series in which we imagine the innermost feelings of Dancing With the Stars contestants, as written in their “journals.”

Dear Diary,

Nick here. Nick Carter. From the Backstreet Boys, the boy band. Tonight was the season premiere of Dancing With The Stars, season 21, whaddup?! Oh man, diary, what a wild nite.


Man, was I stoked when ABC asked me to do this show. It’s not like I needed it or anything- I mean, I’ve been a Backstreet Boy for 23 years, you know? But it was just rad to be asked. Like, cool to let the public know I’m not just a boy band heartthrob. I’m actually a serious artist? Ha ha, maybe that’s dumb.

Anyway dude, this season has all kinds of talent on it. My girl Chaka Khan (I called her Shox and she told me to stop but I know she liked it ‘cus she laughed and said I was sweet), Gary Busey (Yo, this guy has almost got an Oscar! Can you even believe that I’m the star of the show, above an Oscar-winner nominee? Life can be so crazy, diary), and Paula Deen (Gotta have my biscuits, ha ha).

My number was the cha cha with Sharna (Burgess, my partner) and it was the finale of the show (because in showbiz you gotta save the best for last lol) which meant that during the taping, I just kind of chilled in the skybox. It was rad though because they put me right behind Erin Andrews so when she interviewed all the other contestants you could totally see me cheesing and just having a good time. Someone told me that because of that I’m on it more than anyone else? I don’t know if that’s true, but it’s pretty cool to think about :).

The show was so fun because when you weren’t performing we just like, frickin’ chilled up there. And we kind of split up into groups, just naturally or whatever. And diary, not to brag but my group was definitely the cool group. It was me, Andy Grammer (a dope new singer), Hayes Grier (a guy who does popular Vines, but seems chill), and Bindi Irwin who is Steve “The Crocodile Hunter” Irwin’s daughter and a lot of fun.

Tamar (Braxton, Toni Braxton’s sister, I mean, hello?!? How awesome!!) didn’t really hang out with us because her cohosts from The Real all came and brought signs saying “Slay Tay!” It was kinda corny, but...

I don’t know, I guess I’m a little sad the boys weren’t there? Everyone else had their friends and family and stuff and I knew Aaron wasn’t going to come because he’s filming that Scooter Braun biopic down in Australia... And the annoying thing is that if they had just told me they weren’t gonna come, I, like, wouldn’t even have cared. Seriously. But we all flew out for A.J.’s wedding. At least I thought Brian or Kevin would have been there, but I guess they couldn’t make it out or something.


Howie was at least dope enough to tweet at me during the show:


We still will always be Boys even though life takes us in different directions. I mean, where would I be without H.D.? He taught me how to jerk off the right way, and for that he’ll always be my brother.

Some other junk: Paula Deen said she pooped her pants which is just gross, like, don’t say that on live TV??? Also, some of the women were saying Bruno Tonioli (Hayes called him Bruno Ravioli, lol) was being racist. I don’t know, I thought he was trying to just have a good time.


Also Gary said something after his number that I want to remember so I’ll write it down here: “I danced in a cosmos of riddles and nothing means anything to me if I have to think about it.” I often think that too, about life and our experiences. Are you even living if you are thinking so much? Ha ha, it just sounds good too.

I still feel really lonely, diary, but tonight made me forget it at least for a second, which I feel grateful for. Backstreet’s back, baby! Ha ha.


Update: I thought Gary Busey had an Oscar, diary, but I was wrong. I am still honored to share a stage with him though!!

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Tequila Mockingbird

I do not want to watch Paula Deen’s racist bitch pants-crapping ass in anything. Programmers, you hear me?