Legal disclaimer: This story is purely fictionnal and it doesn't mean to imply anything about the sexuality of any of the celebrities mentionned in it. I do not know or own the backstreet boys.
Author's note: this is my first attempt at writing a story. If you like (or don't) this story, or you have any comments or questions about it, you can e-mail me at:
CHAPTER ONE
When I was 19, my life changed forever. I am 57, and even now I can remember everything from that year, down to the smallest details. I relive that year often in my head, bringing it back to life, and I realize that when I do, I always feel a strange combination of sadness and joy. There are moments when I wish I could roll back the clock and take all the sadness away, but I have the feeling that if I did, the joy would be gone as well. So I take the memories as they come, accepting them all, letting them giude me whenever I can. This happens more often than I let on. It is April 12, in the 38th year of the second millenium, and as I leave my house, I glance around. The sky is overcast and gray, but as I move down the street, I notice that the dogwoods and azaleas are blooming. I zip my coat just a little more. The temperature is cool, though I know it's only a matter of weeks before it will settle it will settle into something more comfortable and the gray skies give way to the kind of days that make Beaufort, North Carolina the most beautiful place in the world. With a sigh, I feel it all coming bak to me. I close my eyes and the years begin to move in reverse, slowly ticking backwards, like the hands of a clock rotating in the wrong direction. As if through someone else's eyes, I watch myself grow younger; I see my hair changing from gray to brown, I feel the wrinkles around my eyes begin to smooth, my legs and arms grow sinewy. Lessons I've learned with age grow dimmer and my innocence returns as that eventful year approaches. Then, like me, the world around me begins to change too. I open my eyes and pause. I was standing in front of a park, and when I stare at the trees, I know exaclty who I am. My name is Ethan Schultz and I'm 19 years old. This is my story. I promise to let nothing out. First you will smile, maybe you will cry...don't say you haven't been warned. I was, as I am now, walking down the 17th avenue. There was this guy sitting on a bench in the park, alone, looking at the sky. He was very handsome. He wasn't very tall, about 5 feet and 8 inches, had short pale brown hair, and amazing blue eyes with tears in it. I sat beside him and asked if he was okay. He nodded and kept looking at the sky. "May I ask why you are crying?" I asked softly. He looked a little older than me, but not much. "It's a long story. Very long." he told me with his light southern accent, tears streaming down his face. "I've got all afternoon, if you'd like to tell me." I said. He took a deep breath and started talking. At first, he told me he was 25. He was a singer, and was part of a group with 4 other guys. They were always on tour and they had become closer than family. They were all he had in the world. I interrupted him. "You don't have any family?" I asked. "I have a brother, his name is Harold, and him and my parents won't talk to me since I came out to them. They think being homosexual is a sin." he said, obviously awaiting me to say something. "Well I have anything against homosexuals. It would be foolish of me to do so, being gay myself..." I said with a slight smile. He smiled too and went on with his story. He told me that after he came out to his parents, a month ago, they had thrown him out and he had been told to never come back. So he had decided not to tell the other guys in the group because he thought they'd do the same. "And here I am, crying in a park because I can't be myself around anyone." he said with a sigh. "Have you ever talked about homosexuality with your friends?" I asked. "Yeah." he said, wiping his eyes. "And did they ever say something wrong about it?" I asked. "No." he answered. "Then why are you so affraid?" I asked softly. He thought about it for a second. "You're right...I could ask them what they think about homosexuals in general, then if they're okay with them, I'd come out." he said with a smile. "See? It wasn't so hard!" I said, smiling too. "Thanks man. What's your name by the way?" he asked. "Ethan Schultz." I said, extending my hand. He took it in his and shook it. Some kind of electricity flew through my body as he touched me. "Brian Littrell. Where does your last name come from?" he asked, releasing my hand. "Germany. My grandfather was german." I said. He smiled again. God he was beautiful. He was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. "What are you up to right now? Are you free? We could go somewhere and grab something to eat, it's almost five thirty." he said. "Yeah, I'm free. How about we go to my place? My parents are out for the week, so we could order some pizza, what do you think?" I asked, standing. "Great. Let me just call Kev and tell him I won't eat with them tonight." he said, taking out a small cell phone from his pocket. "Kev?" I asked, puzzled. "He's my cousin. He's in the group with me and he's like a father for all of us." he said as he dialed. I could tell he cared about these guys. You should have seen his face when he talked about them. "Hey Kev, it's Bri. I won't eat with you tonight, okay? I'm going out with a friend." he said with a smile. The way he said the word friend made my heart melt. He made small talk with his cousin and then hung up. "Ready to go?" I asked. "Yep, lead the way!" he said. We walked down the 17th avenue until we reached my house, a few blocks away from where we were. I unlocked the door and we entered. "Welcome to my humble house." I said. In fact, my house was far from humble. It was HUGE. My dad owned a big insurrances company and my mom was a lawyer. I hardly saw them at all, but they said it was for my own good. "Why are you complaining son?" my father used to say, "You've got everything you want and even more." Yeah, right. My father didn't even know what I was studying at school and my mom still asked how old I was sometimes. "Your house is beautiful Ethan." Brian said. "Thank you. What kind of pizza do you want me to order?" I asked. "Cheese." he said. I nodded and called. Withing fifteen minutes, the pizza was on the table and we were filling our mouths like we hadn't eaten for weeks. Suddenly, I realised who I was eating with. Brian Littrell. THE Brian Littrell, from a band that was world famous at the time, the Backstreet Boys. And the more I talked to him, the more I liked him. And the more I talked to him, the more I could feel he liked me too.
TO BE CONTINUED?