Legal Note: Plese don't read this if you are under the age of 18 years or the particular age of permission where ever you live.The story below is in all parts fictional. All portayal of the Backstreet Boys and other persons mentioned is in no way based on fact. All other characters are completely fictional. All names, songs, events, and other liscensed material remains so. Thank you.
A Note to Readers: Hey guys. This is a very long segment-seven and a half pages! usually they're more like four and a half. Let me know how you like it. The ending is light like the beginning parts, which you guys have told me you enjoyed-I'm trying to keep a balance between light and dramatic parts without watering down the plot. I've received a lot of really great mail that only increases in number after releasing each part. Anyone that's been reading this story and hasn't been writing-please do. I mean, I can't make you, but I want to get the full feeling of my audience. So always, write with any sort of comment or suggestion to bsbwriter@altavista.net Thanks. Oh, and of course, special thanks to Matt, Mike, DLS (who has really helped lately and writes a really great story called Brian and Me), and also TonnY,(look for a piece of your e-mail within Zach's dialogue below) Yuli, Redrum, and Magic for their ever-present compliments and encouragement. And to David the archivist! -who works hard. And without further ado, enjoy the story!
thanks,
EG
Part 10
When I woke up I was sweaty, and realized I had been so dazed I had never turned on the air conditioning. I looked at the clock and saw it was ten-thirty-three. I thought about getting ready, going to the airport, having to eventually see Kevin. I couldn't take it. The ticket would go unused.
I took a shower, cleaned the rec. room and got dressed for the day. I called up my friend Joe to see if he wanted to play some Frisbee on the mall, (large green stretch of grass, surrounded by museums, the Washington monument and the Capitol.) He wasn't there, so I called a few other people. Everyone was busy, or at the beach, or in Europe. Instead of lying around the apartment for another day, I decided to take the metro down to Georgetown (trendy young area in D.C.) to do some shopping, and more importantly,thinking.
I got on the metro, rode to my stop, getting off at Foggy Bottom and walking the rest of the way there. The sidewalk was lined sparsely with homeless-one of the most depressing sights in this town. It was the sort of thing that diminished your own trivial problems, but these particular trivial problems preoccupied me-I walked like a zombie into the summer tourist congestion.
I walked into a few stores-but everywhere reminded me of them.' Everywhere-posters, magazines, music. I read the paper while having some coffee, and even Doonsbury (a comic strip) referenced them at the end of a gay wedding, (true tale-now that's ironic) by singing, You are my fire, My one desire...'
I was going insane with sadness. I have always been taught that the truth will make things better-in this case, it made them worse. Why couldn't I have just left it alone? Why couldn't I have just left them to get together and remained friends with Kevin? Why? Because at the root of all this, maybe, I loved him.
It was useless, walking around the town, listlessly and on the verge of crying, so I took the metro home. The garish colors of Georgetown were making me nauseous. A thirteen year old girl sat beside me on the train-she was wearing a BSB shirt, and singing `I Want It That Way' under her breath. I stood up and held a pole instead. When I got off at my stop, it was not a minute too soon. I got to the house, sat down and laid my head back. When I'm depressed, I usually sleep a lot. This time was no exception. Soon, I was out cold.
I awoke from the sound of the phone ringing. I grabbed for it, still half asleep. I knocked it off the table. I fell off of the chair, but finally grasped the receiver.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hi." the voice on the other end answered.
"Who is this?"
"This is Nick, Adam."
I was ready to hang up the phone. "I don't know why you're calling," I said, "Haven't you done enough?"
"I was calling to apologize."
"Well, I don't accept and I don't see how this helps my situation with Kevin. Its all well and good, but I don't understand why you did it in the first place."
"Out of love-the same as you."
"Love? Love is lying to that person?"
"I-No, its not."
"Look, Nick-you did a stupid thing. I realize the sentiment, but it doesn't help the situation with Kevin."
"Adam-I'll talk to him-please? Just come for the show-Kevin is threatening to leave the band-you have to do something."
"No, no I don't. I stopped `having' to do something when you told him you wrote that letter. You just confused him emotionally. He doesn't love you-but he wants to because you are the supposed author. Do you see how much you must be hurting him?"
"Just come, please-quickly."
"I don't have anything more to say-goodbye." I hung up.
I felt terrible. The Backstreet Boys would break up all because of one little letter that was never even meant to be sent? Well-maybe they wouldn't break up-but what would they be without Kevin?
The next few days were a blur. On Saturday, Zach called to say that the concert had been canceled-Kevin had left, without a forwarding address. Saturday was also my birthday. He didn't mention it. I spent a few minutes feeling sorry for myself when Zach also informed me the Chevy had broken down and he would be flying home Sunday morning. He asked to me meet him at the airport at 2 in the afternoon.
I spent the rest of the day, and next morning sleeping. When I woke up, I was 19.
It was about one when I got to the airport. I went to the small airport Starbucks, and sat at the counter on a stool, my head faced towards the terminal where Zach would come from. I waited for awhile. I noticed my shoe untied, so I bent down to tie it. At the same time, my backpack fell off of my shoulder. I saw my journal fall out and open. I was about to pick it up, when someone else did. I looked up. It was Kevin. I turned around quickly.
He was lost reading-the poem I had written a week ago. "Its that handwriting-from the letter..." he whispered. He hadn't realized I was standing there, because he was still engrossed in reading. It was inevitable he would.
I spent a few painful moments without breath- then he looked straight into my face."You wrote the letter," he whispered. I couldn't deal with it. I couldn't hurt him anymore. I turned and walked away, leaving Kevin with my journal still in his hands.
I heard him call after me, but I kept walking. As I walked, tears traced down my face. I walked to baggage claim, where Zach was just getting off. He looked at me and saw something was terribly wrong. He just hugged me, and we walked towards the exit. Kevin was few feet away, but I ignored him-it hurt too much to care.
Part 11
We got home in about half an hour. I noticed my cell phone, which I had left home, had a voice mail message on it. Thinking it was my parents, I checked it. I instantly recognized the voice. It was Kevin, singing `Back to Your Heart,' which he had written for Millennium. It ended with "Sorry." and a phone number. I shut off the phone.
For a moment I debated whether to call him-then Zach came in the room. "What's wrong?" he asked.
I set the message to play again and handed him the phone. He listened, and afterwards I told him about the incident in the airport. "What's wrong with you?" he asked.
"What?!?"
"I said, what is wrong with you? Let me say this loud and clear-You're so stupid! What is wrong with you? It all got fixed and now you're still whining. Kevin clearly wants to make a go of it-so what else can you find to complain about? You're set for life and you have a beautiful pop star singing romantic songs for you on your damn answering machine. Call him back-now! If any guy ever did that for me-I'd be with him by now."
"You mean girl."
"What?"
"You said `if any guy ever did that for me...'"
"Oh."
"What?"
"That's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."
"What?!?"
"Adam, I'm gay-or at least bi. I don't really want to fool around with labels right now and I think I still have some feelings for Jane-but this past week I've found myself really admiring someone-it was a couple of days until I realized that `admiration' was a-is a crush."
"Who??"
"I don't want to talk about it right now. But will you please call Kevin?"
"Maybe-I'll think about it."
Think about it I did. I spent the next day and night thinking about it. I got two more messages-one on Sunday night and one on Monday morning from Kevin-each was him singing Back to Your Heart.' They were all the same, except for instead of Sorry,' the second one said Miss You,' and the third one said I Want to Fall in Love With You.' That was the one that really got me. At about eleven, Monday morning, I was channel surfing on TV when I saw a BSB press conference-I immediately realized Kevin was missing.
"What do you attribute to the cancellation of the concert on Saturday?" a reporter asked.
"Kevin Richardson has recently had a tragedy of a personal matter-it has affected us all. We did not feel respectful or equipped going on without him," AJ said. He looked very tired-they all did.
"What does this mean for the immediate future of the Backstreet Boys?" another reporter asked.
"Well, we'll be keeping our promotional dates on the east coast. Instead of starting the Millennium Tour in Europe, it will start in Washington D.C. on September 19th. Kevin will rejoin us at that time," Brian finished.
"Could you comment on the specifics of Mr. Richardson's personal tragedy?"
"We feel that would not be prudent, constructive nor polite to the Richardsons," Nick said. They had rehearsed this-I could tell-I just hoped the reporter couldn't.
"So it is of a family matter?"
"We do not wish to comment at this time," Howie reinforced.
"On that note, we'll be ending the press conference. The boys have to get to a photo shoot. Everybody have a nice day," said a member of the BSB management I didn't recognize.
I flipped off the TV. I set about unpacking my bags when I heard a fourth message from Kevin.
"Adam," he said. "Adam-please listen. I'm lost without you. I'm leaving for a break today in about two hours. I bought a ticket for you. Please come so we can talk this out. Please? It would mean so much to me. The plane leaves at 1:30 at terminal 36B. I'll be waiting for you right there. Please please come. And if you can't come just call me-you have the number." He sounded like he had been crying and his voice was gravely, which could have been sexy in an event other than this. "Adam-I want to love you-why won't you let me? I'm so so sorry. Remember-1:30-36B. Please be there. I want you to be there." He hung up.
I couldn't stand this anymore-I wanted to love him too. I was going.
I left a note for Zach. It read:
Zach-I'm listening to you and to my heart. I'm going away with Kevin. I don't know when I'll be back. Tell my parents, if you see them, that I'm deferring from college for a semester-at least. When they get freaked out just tell I'm doing what's best for me at this particular time-they'll like that. And I'll call you from wherever I end up so we can talk about this admiration' thing. Take Care, Adam'
I grabbed my bags and headed off to the airport.
I got to terminal 36B just in time. Kevin squeezed my hand, gave the stewardesses our tickets and ran onto the plane. We sat down in our seats. He grasped my hand and told me to put on my seat belt. I did, and the plane began to start down the run way. "Where are we going?" I asked.
"You'll see when we get there," he said.
Kevin gazed at me for most of the take-off. Every time I looked over at him, instead of looking away, he just smiled this contented smile. I smiled back.
Finally, we were in the air. The stewardess came by and asked us if we wanted anything to drink. I didn't, but Kevin ordered a non-carbonated mineral ice water. Sometimes he was such a prima donna-and I loved it.
"I'm really glad you came," he said, in a low, sexy whisper.
"I am too," I said.
"Look-I'm really sorry I didn't believe you."
"Its all right."
"And I really want to get to know you and I want you to know me-if that's okay with you-and I'm taking the fact that you're here that it is."
"Sorry-" I said, shaking my head. "I actually thought I'd take the opportunity to yell at you for a little while, and then desert you after my throat gets sore." Kevin looked surprised and hurt. He was taking me seriously. "Kevin-whoa, I was kidding. Have a little confidence in yourself, buddy. The first thing you have to know about me is that I'm very fond of sarcasm, okay."
"Yeah, okay," Kevin said, looking a little shaken.
I squeezed his hand. "Chill out. I'm here. Everything is going to be okay."
Just then, a bald man of about 48, across the aisle startled me by sticking out his hand. "Hi, young man-I'm Alan-Al to my friends, its my first time flying I'm afraid...a little nerve wracking, huh?"
"I'm Adam-" I answered, shaking his hand, "and this is my buddy William." I motioned to Kevin, who shook hands with Al. I thought it'd be better if we didn't use his real name-just to be safe. Kevin gave me a smile signaling his agreement.
"So what's your business in France, Willy?" Al asked. He obviously didn't recognize Kevin.
I turned and mouthed `France??' to Kevin, who nodded and gave me a devilish grin. "Vacation," Kevin said.
"Ah yes-beautiful place. Myself, I must attend to business matters. Otherwise, I wouldn't be in this metal bird for the life of me." We both nodded, and were glad when Al quieted after a late lunch was served. He didn't bother us the rest of the flight.
We both picked at our food, too excited to eat. This is ridiculous, I thought. One week I'm working in the diner and the next, I'm on my way to a French vacation with an international super star who I may very reasonably fall in love with.
It was a long flight, about eight hours, so we decided to get some sleep. I woke up about six hours later, just in time to see a girl walking up the aisle to the bathroom. I saw she was wearing a Kevin necklace, and knew exactly what would happen once she saw him. Suddenly aware I had been sleeping with my head on his chest, I sat up straight.
I nudged Kevin awake and slipped him a baseball cap I had in my bag. "That isn't exactly the best way to wake me up the first time we slept-" he joked and then saw the girl. He knew instantly what I was getting at and turned to the window a second too late.
I felt a finger jabbing me in the shoulder. "Excuse me, is that Kevin Richardson???" the girl of about 14 squealed.
"No, I'm sorry darling. That's my friend William," I lied, hoping she would go away.
Al piped in- "Yep," he said. "That's William-I met him before. Nice guy."
"Oh-okay," the girl said dejectedly. "Are you sure?"
Then Kevin turned around-why was he turning around? This was definitely it for us and our quiet vacation. I couldn't bear to watch. Instead, I watched the girl, waiting to barricade her from ripping off an article of clothing.
"Oh," she said, "I guess you're right-that would've been sweet, though, huh?"
She turned and walked back from where she came. I was `tres' confused. Then I turned to look at Kevin. He had pulled the cap over half his face, put his reading glasses (which usually make him look oh-so incredibly smart and seductive) on the tip of his nose, and had his mouth half open with drool coming out the side.
I had to laugh. She was right-he didn't look like himself, thankfully. He pulled off the hat, pushed up his glasses and wiped the side of his mouth with the back of his hand. Instantaneously, he was once again the gorgeous boy I had gotten on the plane with. "Ta-da!" he said, with a flourish. I reached over and rumpled his hair.
For the rest of the flight, we talked about "safe" issues, and kept a low profile. We took turns going to the bathroom and cleaning up. After that, I looked a whole lot better, with a scrubbed face and clean breath. Kevin, on the other hand, I thought, is always stunning, and looks as good with disheveled hair and stubble as he does with a silky face and freshly gelled locks. Soon it was time to land the plane, and we got together our stuff, folded the blankets, and put on our seat belts. Al gave us a wink as we started our descent.
Part 12
We disembarked and found myself France. I was glad Kevin had picked a country where I knew the language. As far as I could tell, we were in Paris. "Okay, we have to get on the train, cutie-pie," he said, dragging me along. We got on the TGV, (think: French Amtrak) and into a private booth. We secured our luggage and finally, I asked where we were going. "To Provence," he said. Oh, okay. That says a lot. I knew Provence was a rural part in the south of France, known for wine, and cheese. That's it. "Its about a two hour trip. We should be there by midnight, US eastern time. You should probably get some sleep, because when we get there, I want to show you around."
I took his advice and lied down on the seat with my head just touching his knee,(though in a more paternal than erotic way). He lightly stroked hair with his fingertips. With him at my guard, I felt secure, and slept easily.
He woke me up by tracing his finger down my jawbone-a great way to wake up, I might add. "We're here!" he said, excited, smiling softly. He started to take the luggage off of the shelves while I made sure I wasn't dreaming. He led me by the hand off the train. We had arrived at a much smaller junction, surrounded by beautiful pastures and jagged mountains. It was dark out, nine at night, local time, but the silhouettes of the landscape were wonderful.
"Come on sleepy head!" Kevin giggled. He led me to a yellow Peugeot convertible and as I sat down and closed the door, he started the ignition. We were off.
"Do you know where you're going?" I asked, a little bit wary as we sped down a dark dirt road.
"Absolutely!" he said, just as I saw the lights of a building about a hundred feet away. He parked and said, "Come on, there's people I want you to meet!" I ran after him, up the stairs of what seemed like some sort of large building.
"Wha?" I said, and followed him into a grand foyer with a impressive staircase and chandelier in the center.
I saw a woman and man come towards Kevin. My first reaction was to grab him and run out, but when I saw they were smiling, and so was he, I calmed down. The woman was in her late fifties and had rosy cheeks and a long braid of brown hair which swung as she walked. The man was also in his late fifties with short curly mane of blonde hair and a robust air about him. After they all hugged, and exchange the customary French kissing affair, Kevin introduced us. "This is Nicola and Luc Chevalier. They own this Inn."
Both kissed me on each cheek and Kevin introduced me. "This is my friend, Adam. He's from Washington D.C."
Nicola spoke english in a thick French accent. "Allo, Adam. Kevin is a friend of a long time of ours and so you will too be a friend of ours, d'accord?" I nodded.
Luc stepped up and asked Kevin where the bags were. He went out to the car to help him bring them in. I was about to follow them when Nicola said, "Adam, let us talk. How long have you been friends with Kevin? Would you like some coffee?" I nodded.
She took me into a parlor which was immaculately decorated in a green and white theme. She poured smooth, dark coffee from a large urn into a tea-cup and handed it to me.
I took a sip-it was really good and strong-and spoke. "About a week." "And already he takes you here? He must like you very much." I blushed and started to shake my head. "Well, that is magnifique! Do not worry-here, we do not tell secrets. We are in the business of keeping them." She took my coffee from me and set it down on the table-which I was thankful for. I didn't think my American stomach lining could take much more. "Alors, we must show you your room."
She led me up the stairs to a large oak door and took a key out of her apron to open it. After she opened it, she handed me the key. I stepped into the high-ceilinged room-it was beautiful. On one end it had a large four-poster bed and antique wooden wardrobe. On the other, there was a large window covered by white cotton eyelet curtains. The floor was wooden plank with a blue rug over it and the walls had intricate blue and white wallpaper.
I turned to see that Kevin had appeared with the bags. My hero. "Ma petite grenouille, sleep. In the morning we will talk, yes?" Nicola said, hugging Kevin. He nodded. "En ce matin!" she called on her way downstairs.
We both entered the room and Kevin closed the door behind us. "Ma petite grenouille?" I asked, jokingly.
"Yeah-it means `my little frog.' I met Nicola and Luc five years ago when the group was first getting famous in Canada. We got some money, and I used mine to take a three week break here in Provence-I'd always wanted to visit here. I hadn't really made reservations to stay here and couldn't speak a word of French. I met the couple in the train station. They told me they had a room open at their inn, and they drove me there. I've been visiting every time I get the chance ever since."
"That's cool. Hey-have you told them you're gay?"
"No-but I'm sure they know anyway-at least Nicola-she's very perceptive."
"And you're not worried they'll tell anyone?"
"No, not really. First of all, the Backstreet Boys aren't really famous in this area-there aren't any local radio stations or music stores or anything-so why should they care? Second of all, they have big time Western European politicians come with their mistresses and `misters' all the time. This is my safe haven."
"So that's what she meant when said they were in the business of keeping secrets?"
"Probably, that's Nicola for you-she definitely has a dramatic side."
I laughed and said, "This wonderful, Kevin. How can I thank you for taking me here?"
"I was just about to ask you how I could thank you for coming. But enough of that-let's get to sleep." Kevin began stripping down to his boxers-a captivating sight to be sure, but I was a little apprehensive.
"Uh, Kevin?"
"What?" he asked, pulling his shirt off of his head.
"Are we both sleeping in that bed?"
"Do think I'm some sort of heathen? Of course not. Here, I'll show you." He pulled on a panel of the wall I hadn't noticed before. It slid away to reveal a full sized single bed in an alcove. "You sleep in the other bed. Now get some sleep-we've got lots to do tomorrow-and Adam?"
"Yeah?" I said, pulling off my shirt.
"Come here."
"Why?"
"Just do it."
I walked two feet away from him. "What?" I said, a little annoyed he was ordering me around. I looked up at the ceiling waiting for him to answer. I felt soft lips on my cheek and a firm hug. I laid my head on his shoulder for a moment, and whispered, "Thank you."
He whispered back, "Anytime. Now go to bed sweetheart."
We both went to our respective beds and fell asleep in no time-it had been a long day.