Date: Mon, 21 Feb 2000 00:05:37 PST
From: Sam Dauson <sdauson@hotmail.com>
Subject: Blind Faith

Well, here we go... This is it, my first attempt at literature, not just
erotica, but in general. I just thought I'd try it this once, and see how
things go. I'd appreciate any comments, advice, and even criticism, so email
me at sdauson@hotmail.com.

This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real life are entirely
coincidence. This story is not meant to imply anything about the sexuality
of Brian Littrell, or any others of the Backstreet Boys. Again, this is only
fan fiction, mixed with a little wishful thinking, nothing more.

If you are under the age of 18, or your local laws prohibit you from reading
such material, please leave now. The same applies to anyone offended or made
uncomfortable by stories involving consensual homosexual male relationships.
Basically, if you continue reading, you are doing so on your own free will,
and I cannot and will not be held responsible for any consequences.

Authors Note: I kind of felt there are too many Brian stories out there on
the Nifty Archives right now... I decided to make this one a little
different in the sense that it's narrated in the first person by Brian
himself. Of course, I am not Brian, I'm just pretending to be. ;)

That being said, on with the story...

Blind Faith
Part I

	You know what the worst part about being famous is? The loneliness. That
empty feeling at the bottom of your stomach, pulling at your insides. That
nagging feeling that your missing something in your life. Missing something
so great, so spectacular, that being left out of it makes you want to cry.
It's severity doesn't make matters any better. It's an absolutely awful
feeling, but it's what I have to live with. It's something I've come to
regard as normal, and try not to give it a second thought. I just wish it
wasn't so... daunting.

	Of course, people say, it's nothing a meaningful relationship can't get rid
of. Just one problem with that... I'm gay. Always have been, always will be.
I've lived with it, but never quite come to terms with it. I've kept my
sexuality a secret from everybody, even my most intimate friends. Everyone
around me has been in the dark for years, and it has to stay that way. For
their own good, and for the good of the Backstreet Boys. A relationship that
actually means something to me is an impossibility for just that reason.

	The only reason I'm writing this now is because I've just been through one
hell of an experience. It's been a long time since I've felt such strong
emotions, and I think I owe it to myself to share my story with someone,
anyone. Despite the risk I'm presently taking, in regards to my future, my
career, and my friends, what I've just been through has to be shared. It's
just not healthy to keep things bottled up inside you, be them good or not.

	It wasn't even a year ago when this all began, though to me it seems much
longer. The group was in the middle of a short, week long vacation. I felt
the need for some alone time, and found myself in the small ski town of
Belburly for a few days. The first thing on my mind was of course, skiing. I
wouldn't want to miss such an opportunity. After all, this entire city's
economy seemed to be based on it. There was obviously something about their
slopes worth investigating. Besides, plenty of cute guys were usually there
too. Although I knew I was bound by my own fame, an aesthetically pleasing
face was always a welcomed sight.

	It was a nice little ski resort, with a sort of quaint charm. It was just
what I was looking for. I changed into my ski gear, rented my skis, and was
soon out on the slopes. I had some great fun that day, be it with skiing, or
stopping off to the side to play in the snow, which I did on more than one
occasion. As soon as I had my fill of the snow, I headed for the lodge.

	Now all I needed was a mug of hot chocolate, and I'd curl up in a chair
near a window for 20 minutes and rest for a while. It was so peaceful, so
relaxing to just sit and watch the world around me. To simply exist, not as
a variable in the dozens of lives that were crossing about me every few
minutes, but as an inert object. I rather liked simply being an observer.

	My ski ensemble acted as a nice disguise, as no one seemed to recognize me.
For that, I was grateful. Attention was something I got a little too much
of, and this specific kind of attention I seemed to attract got annoying
very fast. Today, though, I was just another face in the crowd, another
ordinary person. I've never really understood fame, or even claimed to. The
entire premise of it seemed so arbitrary. Maybe that's why I disliked the
attention it drew.

	People continued to hum about their business, moving around the lodge. A
few others had taken up positions similar to mine, and seemed to be just as
content. It was such a relaxing position, not just physically, but mentally
as well. This wasn't like resting all alone in some hotel room. Being with
people, whether you knew them or not, was good for your spirits. It was a
comforting notion, but the core of my ache was still there. I needed someone
to share my soul with, and that opportunity didn't come on a weekly basis.
But this would have to do for now, and at that moment, it was enough.

	I looked around the room, taking in the atmosphere, the warmth, the beauty,
and the people all around me, each with his or her own thoughts,
personality, and feelings. Marvelous. As my gaze passed around the room,
someone caught my eye. Rather, it seems, I had caught someone elses eye. It
was a kid of probably no more than 17, with blonde hair. There wasn't much
else could I make out from as far away as I was, except that his eyes were
fixed directly on me.

	At first I wasn't sure what I was going to do. Had this guy spotted me? Did
he know who I was? The answer was most likely yes, but that set an even more
difficult dilemma before me. What to do about it. I couldn't just sit where
I was. To many variables presented themselves, and it was only a short term
solution. Besides, his stare was starting to get to me. I could either
leave, or go introduce myself. At first, the latter seemed downright crazy,
but as I though about it, feelings of regret began to surface.

	I had found myself in the middle of a situation similar to this one once
before. It was probably a few months prior to these events, but I can't
remember any date more specific than that. Another male Backstreet Boy fan
had noticed me in a crowded club. I could have introduced myself, but my
fears of what I was, and what it could do to the group were overpowering,
and I simply left. Despite my self assurances that it was an insignificant
encounter, and nothing good could come of it, I'd regretted my actions ever
since.

	It seemed a crossroads in my life had just presented itself. A decision
made within the next few minutes would more than likely affect the rest of
my life. After careful deliberation, I came to one inescapable conclusion:
You only live once. If I went and introduced myself, the worst that could
happen was that I'd be publicly outed. If I didn't, I knew I'd regret it for
the rest of my life. Further regret was not something I wanted on top of my
current frame of mind. On reflection, I can see how much the exposure of my
sexuality really would have cost me, but at that moment, my judgement had
been partially clouded by my desire for companionship.

	It was then I realized he might not be gay. Typical of myself to overlook
that. The way my mind selectively withheld certain information from me at
times was amazing. That was all I needed though, because if worst came to
worst, I could just go under the pretense that I just wanted to say 'hi' to
what looked like a Backstreet Boy fan. He was still staring at me... I'm
pretty sure he couldn't tell I was looking back at him, with what I had on
my head. I slowly stood up.

	Despite my self assurances that I was just going to meet a regular fan, my
legs were unsteady, and I had that unsettling feeling in my chest,
accompanied by the ever common butterflies in my stomach. As soon as I began
to approach the young blonde, he quickly turned his gaze away. It was almost
funny, how blatantly he had been staring at me earlier, and now pretending I
wasn't even there. I approached further, still trying to keep my heart from
leaping out of my chest.

	While I had my chair all to myself a moment earlier, he was sitting on a
small bench, perhaps made for three people. The rest was empty, and it made
my confrontation all the easier. Had another person come and sat down, such
a deterrent would have forced me back to my chair, so fragile was my mental
confidence in this situation. Anything that didn't go as planned would
likely send me back in the other direction.

	I was fortunate today, and nothing impeded my trek. As I saw it in that
moment, this was my one chance at happiness. Although not entirely true, I
believed it at the time, for one reason or another. 'Please, let him be gay.
Please, let him like me,' I told myself over and over again. I felt a little
silly. He still didn't look up as I approached. I sat down right beside him
with the simple word, "Hi.", and smiled, hoping what people said about my
smile was true.

	"Oh,um... Hi."

	It seemed my attempt at persuading him to like my using my facial
expression was in vain. He still refused to look me in the face. I imagine
it was out of embarrassment, anxiety or any other of the emotions someone
might normally be feeling in his situation. He continued to stare into his
lap, turning slightly red.

	If I thought I had been nervous, it was nothing compared to what this guy
must have been feeling at that moment. He still wasn't looking at me, and
upon closer inspection, I could see he was trembling ever so slightly. I
decided to play it casual for the moment, again with the 'just coming over
to say hi' attitude. Maybe it would help ease a little of our anxiety.

	"So, what's up?"

	"Nothin' much...", he replied. He still didn't avert his gaze from his lap.
"You're Brian Littrell, right?"

	I couldn't help but smile. "That'd be me. You a fan?" I chuckled just a bit
to myself. "I couldn't help but notice you looking in my direction a minute
ago."

	Now he really began to turn red in the face. "Yeah, uh..", he stuttered a
bit before continuing. "I, um, have your CD, yeah."

	"I see." Suddenly I saw a huge failing in my plan. I didn't have anything
to say to my new friend, and from what I'd seen so far, this guy wasn't
going to start a conversation any time soon either. "So, just hanging out
here?" I tried desperately to keep him talking.

	I suppose I could have launched into a conversation about myself, and what
I'd been doing in regards to my career and the Backstreet Boys. It was a
source of interesting discussion most of the time, but right now, I didn't
feel like being a Backstreet Boy. A bit to my surprise, he kept his distance
from the subject. He didn't ask for an autograph, or inquire as to the rest
of the band. Maybe he was just glad I let his little staring problem drop.

	"Yup. It's been sort of a gloomy week. Not bad or anything, just a little
depressing.", he said. "What about you?"

	"I'm actually doing pretty well, thanks." Again, the awkward silence. I had
to do this. Every fiber in my being told me that I had to pursue this, and
this wasn't going to go anywhere with me playing a passive, indifferent role
in this conversation. It took another second or two to persuade myself into
doing what I was about to do. "Tell you what, dude. Take me to lunch, and
I'll give you an autograph." I gave him the best smile I could produce.

	I think my proposition caught him off guard, because for the first time
since I had approached him, he looked up at me. He didn't answer me for a
second, he just stared at me again with his light blue eyes. I began to feel
a bit self conscious, almost like I was being probed by his eyes, as if he
were scanning me. Maybe he was just trying to see if I was being sincere.
Indeed I was. Finally, his reply came.

	"You know what?", the cutest smile crossed his face. "It's a deal." His
expression was priceless.

	Still in our present clothing, we left for a small diner just down the
street. It wasn't a major chain or anything, and because it was a bit late
for lunch, but not late enough for dinner, there were only one or two other
patrons currently eating there. We quickly found ourselves a nice corner,
and sat opposite each other in a small booth.

	It wasn't until now that I was able to get a good look at this kid. For the
first time, I noticed this guy was really cute. Not that handsome look, with
the chiseled features and the rugged face, but that absolutely adorable
quality you find in small animals. His hair was of the most spectacular
blonde I'd ever seen. Not just bright, but it had a rich, light golden color
to it, as opposed to that bleached blonde look. His eyes were simply
incredible, a magnificent blue that sparkled with unbridled passion. It was
such a light blue, it reminded of Carribean waters.

	He spoke first. "You're really Brian Littrell?"

	I smiled at his disbelief. "The one and only." I suppose he still had his
doubts, as I probably would, had our positions been reversed. I got the
distinct feeling that he was more of a fan than he had let on earlier. It
occurred to me that I still hadn't caught his name. "What about you?"

	"Huh? Oh, umm... Evan."

	His thoughts seemed slightly preoccupied. I assumed he was probably
analyzing this situation just as I was, or maybe he was just in a sort of
shock. The latter brought another smile to my face. Perhaps I was something
of an idle to him. How cute. Either way, it was definitely an awkward
situation for him.

	Again, I thought of how I'd be handling the situation if I were in his
shoes. I probably would have collapsed by now, in all honesty. He was still
quite tense, though no longer visibly shaking. That, at least, was a good
sign.

	My tension, on the other hand, was increasing. I'm sure my anxiety levels
could have rivaled his by now. I still couldn't believe I was actually doing
this. 'When did I ever get to be so brave?' I asked myself. I suppose the
only reason I wasn't stuttering and shifting uncomfortably like my friend
here was because I'd learned to control certain instinctive reactions to
some extent. I was almost impressed with myself at how well I was managing
to control my behavior.

	"Nice to meet you, Evan." Again, I smiled.

	A young waitress came by and handed us each a menu. We took a few moments
to decide what we wanted, then each made our order. To this day, I can't
recall what we had ordered, but I suppose it doesn't really matter now. We
never even got a chance to eat it, anyway, thanks to me.

	"So, Evan, tell me about yourself."

	I was filled with a new confidence all of the sudden. Here I was, making
acquaintances with a person I'd never encountered before. So what if I
didn't get a lover out of it? I was determined to at least try to make a new
friend. Friends weren't something I had in abundance either. Not real
friends, anyway. My new attitude helped to alleviate some of my earlier
anxiety.

	"Not really much to tell. Uh, I'm a highschool Junior at Belburly High, I'm
sixteen years old. Umm... I was born and raised here as an only child. I
suppose that's about it."

	His unease was slowly dissipating, and he was able to talk pretty freely
now, without that little quiver in his voice. He wasn't exactly forthcoming
with information about himself, but that was understandable, considering
despite all my fame, I was little more than a stranger whom he'd met a half
an hour ago.

	"Cool." I gave him a smile. Sixteen? It was an awfully large age difference
between us. I decided I'd worry about that later, though. "I suppose it's my
turn now.", I said with another smile. "Let's see, I was born and raised in
Lexington, Kentucky, attended Tates Creek High School for a while, and
joined the Backstreet Boys when I was 18." I decided to follow his suit, and
keep it brief.

	Our food arrived, and I continued asking pointless questions, just to keep
him talking. We talked about the ski lodge, the weather, the local
attractions and other irrelevant things. He never took the initiative, and
always stuck to answering my questions, never asking any of his own. He was
obviously pretty shy, or at least he was around me. He was carefully
avoiding any further mention of what I did for a living. It was a sweet
gesture, despite whatever his motive might have been.

	I sat there, simply watching him talk. I could feel myself slipping into
the same sort of stare that Evan had used on me in the lodge, and frankly, I
didn't care. He looked so... so perfect, for lack of a better word. His
light blue eyes, perfectly complimenting the short, bright blonde hair. His
adorable face. I didn't hear a word he was saying, but since he was just
responding to another of my senseless inquiries, I don't think I missed
much.

	It was at that moment that I had to kiss him, right there. Don't ask me
why, but I didn't want to do this awkward dance around the truth. I knew
that I had to show him how I felt, and if he didn't feel the same way, at
least I'd have gotten this over with. I leaned over the small table, and as
swiftly as I could, so as to prevent him from backing away, drew this kid,
who I only knew as Evan and not met but an hour earlier, into the most
passionate kiss I could muster.

---

	That's all for right now... I didn't want to make this opening part too
long, considering I'm not sure whether or not I'll be continuing this story.
It actually depends solely on you, the reader. If people want me to
continue, I will. :) Send me some email at sdauson@hotmail.com with your
positive and negative feedback, just try to keep it constructive. :)
Awaiting your decision,

Sam