Date: Sat, 7 Aug 1999 00:43:35 -0400 (EDT)
From: EG <bsbwriter@altavista.net>
Subject: Adam, Zach and BSB, Part 9(gay/boy bands/Adam Zach and BSB)

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.

To a new crop of readers-Yuli, Terence, Magic, DLS, Jeremy and Bob. And to
my old stand bys, Mike, Matt and that other guy. Hey-to all readers-I need
to know whether I should end the story in Part 10 or keep going-cuz I could
go either way. You should also write if you want parts before they're
published on the archive, because I will send them to you for comments and
suggestions. As always, I welcome suggestions, comments, critiques, random
fan/rant mail. bsbwriter@altavista.net

Enjoy part 9!
Let the Emotions Run High!

-EG

part 9

	Kevin and I sat in the bar quietly, for a little while longer,
before my cell phone rang. It was Zach.
	"Hey, look, Adam. I need to tell you something. Are you alone?"
	"No...just a sec." I motioned to Kevin I was leaving for a
moment. He nodded his head and I walked into the foyer. "Okay, Zach, what
is it?"
	Zach told me all about his and Nick's conversation. At the end, he
told me that the boys were having dinner at Le Cirque, and I should
go. "Okay," I said. I hung up and went back to the booth. "That was
Zach. He said he, AJ, Howie, and Brian are all going to Le Cirque for
dinner. Feel like joining us?" I asked.
	Kevin shook his head. "I need to be alone and think, if I'm ever
going to get this all straightened out in my head."
	"Okay-here's my cell number. Call me if you need me."
	He took the piece of paper and put it in his breast pocket with the
infamous letter. I waved goodbye and left him sitting there. From the exit
of the bar, I looked back at Kevin. The smoke of the bottle blonde
divorcees and the married rich men filled the air around his face. His dark
hair faded into the hazy nothingness, but his sharp azure of his eyes cut
through-I could see him watching me.
	I went up to my room to get dressed for the evening. I chose a see
through embroidered buttercup colored dress shirt, (the non-ruffled
variety) with a turquoise t-shirt underneath and black tuxedo pants
boasting satiny stripes up the side. What can I say?  Sometimes I like to
dress for fun.
	I went down to the lobby and saw Kevin still in the bar. I was
worried about him. I waved, but he didn't look up. Both of his hands were
wrapped around the same drink he had ordered an hour ago. The level of
liquid had not changed. I made myself a promise that I would call him later
to make sure he was all right-I didn't think he was.
	I went outside-it was still warm out, and the streets were busy. I
hailed a cab to the restaurant. In the cab, the image of him sitting there
made my heart break a million times. Finally, I got there and was a little
late. The boys were all seated. The maitre'd led me to the large, round
table. The maitre'd reminded me of the hostess at Denny's, and I chuckled
to myself and winced from the embarrassment still fresh in my mind.
	I got to the table, where no one was smiling. Brian looked pained,
Zach looked melancholy, and AJ and Howie, having been out of the brunt of
the conversations, looked confused. The water sat untouched and each guy
leaned against the back of his seat in withdrawal. "Well, if I knew it was
going to be such a fun bunch, I would have brought my dancing shoes!" I
attempted.
	Brian cracked a small smile. "Its about time you got here...How's
Kevin doing?"
	"Not too good, I think, but he wanted to be alone, so..."
	AJ sat up and looked at me. "Adam-we all really wanted to thank
you. You've been a really good friend to us all-especially Kevin-even
though we've only known you for a few days."
	"Yeah-so let's thank fate that the chair at Denny's was faulty,"
Howie said.
	"Um guys..." I started.
	"Yeah?" Brian asked.
	"It wasn't exactly a rickety chair."
	"What do you mean?"
	"I was sort of leaning backwards to see you guys."
	Everyone started laughing and I felt good to tell truth, if not a
little bit red around the cheeks. We ordered, talked, ate, laughed a lot
and told stories. Zach, unfortunately, began to tell more embarrassing Adam
stories, like the time my pants fell down during our freshman production of
Fiddler on the Roof. It won a standing ovation. Unluckily for me, the
newspaper photographer recorded the moment for posterity in a snapshot
bearing the caption, "Adam caught with pants down, Students give a thumbs
up." The dessert was coming when my cell phone rang.
	I answered it. "Hello?"
	"Adam-its me, Kev. We have to talk. Soon."
	"What's wrong? Are you all right??" I asked, panicked.
	"Just please come back to the hotel."
	"Okay-I'll be there in ten."
	"Okay. Bye." Kevin hung up.
	"Look-guys-something's wrong with Kevin-he wouldn't tell me what. I
have to go talk to him."
	Brian said, "Please keep us posted on what's happening."
	"Absolutely-but now, I need to go."
	I avoided running out of the restaurant, and instead of hailing a
cab in the busy street I did run back to the hotel. Receiving some strange
looks pedestrians, I made it in about seven minutes. I waded through the
BSB fans and showed my key to the security guard to gain admittance. I ran
up the stairs and got to the fifth floor. When I got to Kevin's door, I
knocked. Kevin answered, with red eyes, wearing only his boxers.
	"Tell me what's wrong, Kev?"
	"He wrote it," Kevin said, with a sore throat. He led me into the
suite.
	"Who wrote what?" I asked.
	He sat down on the bed, and said, with so much confused emotion,
"Nick wrote the letter."
	Immediately I realized what had happened, more or less. Kevin had
gone to Nick to let him down easy. When Nick heard his response, he
remembered Kevin's connection with the letter in his breast pocket. It was
a pitiful ploy at gaining his love. Had it worked?  My head swam. "Are you
sure he wasn't just saying that?" I asked.
	"He's never lied to me before."
	"What if I told you I wrote the letter?" I asked, boldly. If I was
going to loose him, I should at least go out with style.
	"What?!?" His head whipped around to look me straight in the eyes.
	"I wrote the damn letter."
	"No you didn't-Nick did. And if you did, why didn't you tell me
before?"
	"I thought it'd make things too complicated."
	"So you thought you'd bring it up now?"
	"Yes!" I said, screaming. "I think I love you-what the hell am I
supposed to do? We both know you don't love Nick. I meant the things I
wrote in that letter. Why can't you believe me?"
	"How am I supposed to know that you're telling the truth now if you
claim you were lying before? I can't think-you need to leave. I trusted
you."
	"I can't help it if you're so blind-"
	"Get out."
	"Kevin-Kevin, I love you." I said it, I meant it-and instantly I
knew it would never be accepted.
	"Get---out."
	"I'm going." I ran, full fledged, down the hall to the stairs. I
got to my room and sobbed into my pillow. Hadn't I tried to be caring? This
is what I got. I tortured myself by replaying the conversation a million
times in my head. Kevin's deliberate and angry `Get out!" echoed and only
made me cry harder.
	Just then, the door, which I had left open, creaked. I felt a hand
patting my back. For the second time I wished it was Kevin, and for the
second time-I was wrong. It was Nick. I stood up in fury.
	"Why'd you tell him you wrote the letter?"
	"What's it to you? Maybe I did," he said defensively.
	"No, you didn't...I did."
	There was a long silence.
	"Man, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"
	"Please-please leave." I turned, and heard the door close behind
me.
	After Nick had left, I wondered if this was all really
happening. Had I been dropped into some parallel universe? My idols had
become my best friends and then my worst enemies-all of it had taken a toll
on my mental health. I realized that soon I would be so sucked into the
drama and would never recover. I had to get out of here. Screw fate-I was
taking charge of my own damn life.
	I packed my bags and scrawled out a letter for Zach. `Zach' it
read, `I need to get out of this place and fast. I'm taking a plane
home. I'll call you when I get there. Don't you dare tell anyone where I
went, especially Kevin and Nick. When I leave, I want to leave this whole
ugly thing behind me as well. I'll see you in a week. -Adam'
	I taped the note on the door and I stormed out with my bags. I
hailed a cab to JFK airport. I went directly to the US Airways desk. I
looked straight into the female clerk's eyes and said, "What do you have
leaving for Regan National Airport in the next hour?"
	"Well, there is one flight, but I can't sell you a ticket less that
one hour before the flight. It leaves at 10:30. Its 10 now."
	"Miss, I have to get on that plane. You don't understand-its a
matter of-"
	"Life and death-I know. I've heard it all."
	I licked my lips, raised on eyebrow and smiled the sexiest smile
ever. "Please, Miss-" I looked at her name tag, "Jane??? Zach's Jane?"
(look in the first paragraph of part 1 if you don't know who she is-Zach's
ex) I studied her more carefully. I had been in such a hurry I hadn't ever
looked at her face.
	"Adam? What are you doing here?"
	"I was just about to ask you the same thing..."
	Enough pleasantries. "Look, Jane, its really important I get
home. Can you get me on the flight?" I watched her notice the desperation
which lingered in my eyes.
	"Well, I guess I can bend the rules this time, huh? For an old
friend?" She smiled at me, and winked. She took my bags and checked them.
	"Absolutely, thank you so much!" I said, as I took the ticket from
her hand.
	"No charge for the ticket!" she called after me. I waved back.
	For the third time today, I ran with all the energy I had left. I
found the terminal, gave my ticket to the stewardess, who showed me my
seat. It was in business class, which I wasn't really used to. But hey,
they say beggars can't be choosers so I pulled out the in-flight magazine
from the pocket on the back of the seat in front of me.
	Ironic, don't you think, (and way more ironic than any of Alanis'
sayings), that the cover story was all about the Backstreet Boys. I spent
the next hour during the flight putting the finishing details on very
elaborate mustache-on-the-poster type doodles. I'm pretty good artist, so
Kevin had huge, winding horns and a curly Pan-like goatee. I drew anime
eyes on Nick and he now held a knife piercing a bloody, bodiless heart. I
guess I got pretty into it, because when I looked up, the stewardess was
asking me to please put on my seat belt for landing. My seat mate looked at
me very strangely, to my drawings and then back. I smiled a huge grin, and
he inched as far as he could without falling into the aisle.
	Finally, the plane landed and everyone disembarked-I took the
magazine cover with me, as a souvenir to hang up on my wall. I got my bags,
and then took the metro home. I got off at my station, and walked a few
blocks to get home. As usual, no one was in the main house. I hooked around
to the guest house and sighed from relief when I plopped down on the
couch. Soon, I was asleep-without dreams.
            When I woke up, the answering machine light was blinking with
one message. Groggily, I pressed the play button. The answering machine
said mechanically, "You have one new message from---the Plaza Hotel."
	Then I heard Zach's voice. "Hey, its me. I'm really worried about
you. Call me when you get in. We have to talk-Kevin and Nick aren't saying
anything. Its Wednesday morning, about eight o'clock. Please call me-I'll
be waiting."
	I dialed information, then the Plaza, then room 804. "Hello?" Zach
said. "Hello-Adam???"
	"Hi." I said. And then I told him the whole story.
	Zach was shell-shocked. "I can't believe Nick did that. I'm so, so
sorry. You have to come back though-Brian, AJ, and Howie miss you. They
want you to come back for the show."
	"Never." I said, grumpily, and rightfully so. "You know what I've
just been through. And you expect me to be in the same room with Kevin and
Nick? Absolutely not. And oh, Zach, next time I ask you not to do
something, please don't even think about doing it. Its really caused some
trouble these past few days."
	"Okay," Zach said, non-commitedly.
	"Look, I'll call you tomorrow. For now, try to have fun without
me-if that's possible."
	"Well, it sounds like a stretch but---I think I can make it. See ya
later Adam."
	"Bye." I hung up.
	During that day, I worked out, polished off two pints of Ben and
Jerry's Chocolate Comfort Low Fat Yogurt, watched Rebel Without a Cause
three times, and East of Eden twice. James Dean always makes me feel
better.
	I must've fallen asleep on the couch, because I woke up much later
from the jarring sound of static. I looked once over around the room-empty
containers, movie boxes, dirty spoons, clothes strewn about. I was a mess,
and I wasn't going to set about feeling better alone. I thought about what
Zach had said, about coming to see the concert. It was early Thursday
morning, and I could probably catch a plan and be there by the afternoon. I
called National and purchased a ticket for noon that day-first class this
time-there's something about crawling back with your tail between your legs
in style that makes you feel a little bit better. It was too early to call
Zach, so I went back to sleep, and slept well. In a few hours I would be
back among friends.