Date: Sat, 11 Nov 2000 18:30:50 GMT From: Edan G <bsbwriter@hotmail.com> Subject: Chaperone 4 and 5 Legal Note: Please 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 portrayal 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, company names and other licensed material remains so. Thank you. Hey guys! This is Edan writing from school. Life is busy, but I do miss the archive. I thought I'd post these chapters that have been lying around since I left for college. Please enjoy. My e-mail's changed to bsbwriter@hotmail.com Please write with comments and suggestions, or just drop me a line. And Jeff or DLS, if you're out there, I'd like to hear from you. Everyone enjoy, c'iao, Edan I paid for the art supplies as quickly as possible...I was so keyed up I felt like I was going to vomit. I could tell the girls felt similarly. I was flushed and my palms were sweating. Had Nick Carter just flirted with me? How weird was that? He was not only a childhood friend, but also an international pop star. And he flirted with me. It wasn't so much what he said...it was the way he said it. "And it was *really* nice to see you," he had said. He had looked me up and down slowly, smiled, bit his lower lip, raised his eyebrow and accented the words `really' and `you.' But was I just imagining this? So I had seen Nick and now the mystery was solved. It was a crush. I made a list in my head as we walked towards a main street to hail a cab. Good: My crush flirted with me...maybe. Bad: I have a boyfriend...if Randall counts. Of course he counts. But why does he have to count? Good: I will see my crush later. Bad: I will be accompanied my two young girls who also have similar crushes on not only my crush, but also friends/band mates of crush. Tiffany pushed me back into reality. The girls seemed to have a knack for doing that. They had hailed a cab by themselves. I was turning out to be a great chaperone. They hustled me in as the cabbie asked our destination. I gave him the name of the hotel and the car moved through the Albany streets. It had just begun to snow and little balls of ice hit the windows. Soon, as the storm began to pick up, the cab reached the hotel. The girls and I snuck to the back of the hotel to again avoid Randall. I didn't think he was neurotic enough to still be waiting in the lobby for me, but I didn't put it past him. Nick was just getting out of a security mini van a few feet away with Brian and the guard guy who had been in the art store. "Hey guys!" Nick said, as if he needed to get our attention. "Hey!" I said. "What are you guys doing back here?" I went blank. It was too soon to say anything about Randall. What was I supposed to say? `Hi I'm running from a crazed lover who is lying in wait in the lobby and has been doing so since early this morning?' No, I don't think so. Stephanie came to the rescue. "We got sick of wading through all of those girls in the lobby." "Yeah," Tiffany added. "We thought we could avoid the whole thing if we went in the back way." "Anyway," I said, regaining some semblance of a brain, "I thought you were going to rehearsal?" I raised one eyebrow. "We had to change," Brian said. His sudden participation in the conversation surprised me. "Oh," Nick said, "did I introduce you all to Brian?" We all shook our heads. "Hi," I said, offering my hand, "I'm Rhys. Me an' Nick go way back to Jamestown." I smiled as we shook hands. "Nice to meet you," he said, in a soft Southern accent. "I'm Tiffany," Tiffany gushed while nearby Stephanie seemed on the verge of an epileptic seizure. I had forgotten that Brian was her favorite. Tiffany elbowed her hard and she straightened up. "I'm Stephanie," she said in a shocked whisper. "Very nice to meet you guys," Brian said with a endearing note of sincerity. "It's always nice to meet..." he was interrupted by a loud thud. Stephanie, the interminably cool queen of one thousand comebacks, had fainted. "Ohmigod!" Tiffany screamed. "It's okay," I said, attempting to calm her as I dropped to the already icy ground to check Stephanie's pulse. "She seems okay, we just need to get her upstairs and lie her down. She should be fine." Finally, all of those Red Cross classes were paying off. I picked her up and Nick, Brian and Tiffany followed me. "I'll go tell the guys we'll be a little late," Brian said, pressing `8' on the elevator as I pressed `4' with my free hand. "You don't have to stay-she'll be fine." Nick and Brian both looked at me. "We want to," Nick said. I shrugged and smiled at both of them. They were so damn nice. Nick held open the doors of the elevator while I maneuvered Stephanie's legs and head around them. Tiffany ran ahead and opened the door to 405. Inside, it was a mess, with makeup and clothes strewn everywhere. Nick cleared off one bed as I laid Stephanie down, with her head on a pillow. "There's some cologne on the dresser in my room," I said, gesturing towards the adjoining door. "It might get her to come to." Nick disappeared into my room. Almost immediately, I heard two shrieks from two different people coming from inside. I took a deep breath. "Tiff, watch Stephanie. Make sure she keeps breathing and if anything changes, tell me, okay?" She nodded. I walked towards the door extremely warily. "Nick?" I called in, as I stepped closer. "Rhys..." Nick answered in a nervous voice. I stepped into the door frame and saw all pretenses, subtlety and good form crashing down. "Damn it Randall!" I yelled. "What are you doing here?" "I didn't think you'd have company," he shrugged. I closed my eyes and gulped a mouthful of air. When I opened them, the scene had unfortunately not changed. There was Randall, on the bed, completely naked. A few feet away was Nick, propped up on the dresser and although he wasn't freaking out, he did seem uncomfortable. "Randall," I sighed, running my hands through my hair, "what exactly was your thinking behind this?" "I thought that we could make up," he said with a pitiable expression as he drew some of the bed sheets around him. I looked over at Nick, who was blushing like sunburn. "Nick, could you go see if Steph is doing okay? I'll be right in." I waited until Nick was in the next room until I responded to Randall. "Randall," I started, sighing for like, the sixth time in two minutes, and sitting down on the edge of the bed. "You can't do things like this. I know you meant well, but you can't keep pushing." Randall let out a tortured moan-slash-sigh of his own. "Kid, you know I'm crazy about you. I just get worked up." "I know, you just can't do things like this." "You said that already." "I know, did you listen this time?" "C'mere." I edged a few inches closer to Randall. "Closer." An inch or two more. "Closer." "Randall!" I said, but was cut off. He grabbed the front of my shirt and gave me a long and desperate kiss. In spite of myself, I reciprocated, as I heard footsteps next to the bed. I opened my eyes to see Nick. I broke the kiss immediately. "Two seconds, Randall?" He nodded, pouting. "She came to. She's doing fine now." "Good!" I exclaimed, getting up and walking back to the other room. "So I'm gonna go, kay?" Nick said uncomfortably, walking towards the door. "Oh, uh, yeah, okay. I guess I'll see ya when I see ya..." I said, knowing that after this mess it would be awkward to hang out after the show. "Yeah, after the concert, you guys are still coming right?" Nick said, managing a hopeful smile. "Right, right, we'll see you..." I answered and Nick walked out the door to rehearsal. I tended to Stephanie for a little while until she convinced me that she was fine. I went back into my suite and closed the door behind me. "Randall," I said, leaning back on the door and looking towards the ceiling, "this isn't working out." "What isn't?" I lowered my head to look at him and saw the sheets had fallen to his lower hips, right above his, um, sensitive areas. Man, he had a body on him. I told myself to focus. "Us. We aren't working out. I can't do this. I'm not ready." I avoided using the `you're a psycho and now I'm kicking you out' routine. "Rhys-" he looked hurt. "Randall, you know I'll always love you. I know that sounds insincere and tired, but its true. I just can't *do* this relationship right now." "Okay," Randall replied in a leaden tone. He got up and put his clothes on. I walked across the room, gave him a quick hug and walked him to the door. "We'll talk when I get back, okay?" I promised. He nodded and kissed me on the forehead. I, of course, felt like an unfeeling dolt as I watched him disappear behind the elevator doors. I went back into the room, checked on the girls, (who were lying on the beds giggling and watching TV peacefully), and lied down on the bed to take a nap. ------------------------------------------------------------- My eyes opened to a different scene than the Albany hotel room. It looked as though someone had turned up the saturation of the color on a TV set. Everything was garishly bright and it hurt my eyes to look around. As I adjusted to the light, I saw the room decor was monochromatic in blue...different shades, but all undoubtedly blue. I heard water rushing from a bathroom somewhere nearby-a shower perhaps? I would have been alarmed at finding myself in a strange location, of course, as human nature dictates, but I'm one of those people who knows they're dreaming while in the dream. I got up, and opened doors to closets, a hallway, and finally tried the knob to the bathroom. It was locked. I knocked lightly at first, then harder when I got no answer. Finally a voice from within: "It's unlocked!" an undoubtedly male voice answered. I tried the knob again. It was unlocked, although I had heard no movement from the other side of the door. Steam rushed out of the bathroom as I opened the door. Inside, it was low visibility. "Hello?" I called. "What Rhys?" the voice answered. It was familiar, and apparently, the person in the shower knew me. I moved closer to the shower stall, tracing my hands on the cool tile to feel my way. I drew back the shower curtain. --------------------------------------------- Music blasted from a few feet away. My first instinct was to burrow myself further into the bedding, but all hopes of that plan vanished when I felt the blankets being ripped away from me at an alarmingly fast pace. A few feet away from me, Stephanie and Tiffany, (obviously both recovered from the morning's events), performed a dance so choreographically advanced that they must have spent hours rehearsing it. Larger than Life almost blew out Tiffany's boom box's speakers. "Get up!" they both yelled. I obeyed to avoid further demands. I looked at the clock. It was 5:45, I had been sleeping for six hours. No wonder the girls had wanted me to wake up. Glancing in the mirror, I saw I was rugged, bordering on haggard. My hair fell wherever it wanted, my clothes were creased and there was a large red oval where I had probably been resting my hand on my cheek during my nap. Both girls looked at me with dismay. "What were you planning on wearing to the concert?" I shrugged. I hadn't given it much thought. "Uh...jeans...a t-shirt..." "Let us see your clothes. We'll pick out something for you to wear," Stephanie ordered. Again, I obeyed. As I laid out my clothes, it occurred to me that I had dramatically over-packed. At the same time, Stephanie looked at me with near disgust. "So, did you, like, dump your dirty clothes hamper into your suitcase, or what?" I looked at both girls helplessly. I was too tired to argue. I tried to suggest some outfits, but both girls were control freaks. They had been watching too much E! Fashion Emergency. "Go get some coffee or something," Tiffany suggested, after they grew tired of rejecting me, and, as I was tired of getting rejected, I did. I took the elevator down to the lobby and as I looked around, I was glad to see that Randall was nowhere to be found. Reflecting on the days events, I decided I was glad to see the car wreck of a relationship finally end. Things in my life were suddenly more peaceful...as long as I ignored Nick walking in on that whole ugly mess. It was my goal not to think about it. I went to the cafe, ordered a coffee and thumbed through the day before's edition of the Times Union. My stare snagged on the Life&Leisure section. An article about the Backstreet Boys coming to town on Valentine's Day was placed prominently on the front page. The headline read: "The Boys get so sentimental on Valentine's Day." It was accompanied by vintage picture, probably from `96, judging from the painfully ugly jumpsuits they wore. I tried not to be conscious of the fact that I immediately looked for Nick in the picture, instead of looking at Brian, who was smack in the middle of the composition. I skimmed the article, which was badly written and disjointed. Again, Nick's name caught my attention. It was an old quote about Valentine's Day, which, despite some silliness, had some romance to it. "It's a very cool time, cuz, uh, St. Patrick comes around and shoots you in the butt with an arrow and you fall in love! But who knows, that might not be true, so SEE YA!" I found myself hoping that "St. Patrick" would stick around for the fifteenth and prove the falling in love prophecy true...for me. I wondered if Nick was in fact gay, or if it was just a gummy mix of my crush on him and the sentimentality for the old days that made me think so. And realistically, would Nick even return my feelings if he was? It was all hard to say and harder to think about. I drank my coffee quickly, letting the bitter warmth light up my insides. Checking my watch, I saw that it was 6:15 and probably time to return. I dreaded what the teeny-bopper twins had in store for my poor wardrobe. When I entered the room, I was pleasantly surprised. There was an outfit laid out on the bed: my grass green button-down and a pair of flat front, straight leg khakis. My Doc Marten buckle shoes sat jauntily next to them. A note on hotel stationary read: "Rhys: Here are your clothes. Remember to shower. Do that spiky thing with your hair and put on that CKone. It smells good. Be ready by 6:40. Luv, Steph and Tiff. P.S.: We're glad that icky Randall is finally gone!" The note confirmed two things: the girls were 1) budding fashionistas, and 2) alarmingly perceptive. Like a good boy, I took a shower and did that "spiky thing" with my hair with some pomade. I put on the clothes, shoes and cologne. Inspecting myself in the mirror, I decided I was ready for a date, photo shoot, or movie premiere...not the mixing bowl of sweaty, glittery teen girls I was about to be thrust into. I knocked on the adjoining door at precisely 6:40. As the girls opened the door, it was clear they had spent the last hour and some minutes becoming GAPkids models. Both wore skirts, carried purses and were perfectly coifed, like proper young ladies. I was impressed with their make-up, which was not, as I would have assumed, over-done. Instead, it was all glimmery and adorable. Together, we looked like a stylish older brother taking his two delightful younger sisters to a Hollywood event. It was hard to dip into my deep well of cynicism when we all looked *that* good. "Time to go!" Tiffany said with a quivering of excitement in her voice. I could tell both she and Stephanie were sincerely excited, and couldn't help smiling to myself because of it. I tried to ignore the fact I would probably not have much fun, and reminded myself that this was all for the girls. If I could salvage my friendship with Nick after the Randall incident, maybe after the concert was a time I could look forward to. When the girls could stand it no longer, we half-walked, half-ran the three blocks to the stadium. The girls dragged the signs they had probably made while I was asleep behind them. There was a larger crowd outside the entrances, which began to move just as we arrived. Getting closer to the turnstile, I withdrew the tickets from my wallet and gave one to each of the girls. We gained entrance to the arena and descended the steps all the way to the floor. Our seats were, as I had thought, ten feet from the edge of the stage. I could feel the electricity of excitement and anticipation as the crowd began to filter in. I couldn't help getting caught up in it as the lights began to dim. -------------------------------------------------------- Quick note: Nick's quote about Valentine's Day may sound a little weird, but he actually did say that. (See: Times Union, Monday, Feb. 14, 2000) -------------------------------------------------------- Installment 5 From the minute the Boys got on stage, the dynamic between performer and audience was immaculate. I never expected the actuality of the concert to be so...so...enthralling. Previously, to me, it had all been an aspect of pop culture, important in it's role but useless otherwise. Now, lord, I was a convert. The music was fun, no doubt. But it was the optimism, the frivolity of it all that made the whole thing comforting. It was theater. Fantastic, elaborate, multi costumed theater. To be clich, the concert was a blur. I danced and smiled more than I had in a long time. I had a *good* time. I watched Nick and at times I thought he was watching me. Under those lights, up on that stage, he seemed near-perfect. And at the end of the show, I had a sweaty afterglow and a continual grin. When the crowds began to filter out of the arena, I glanced at the girls. They were just as sweaty as I was. Once we exited the building, the cold air hit our cheeks and made us flush. Tiffany and Stephanie, quiet for once, ran back towards the hotel. I had no choice but to follow. Once back in the rooms, we all freshened up. Then, we made the call. I dialed to Suite 800, my hands shaking. "Hello?" a gruff voice asked. "Security." "Hi. Nick said to call you before we came up," I said, a little nervous. "Your name and the names of those who will be accompanying you?" "Uh, I'm Rhys, and Tiffany and Stephanie will be coming as well. Do you need last names?" "No, you've checked out. We'll be down in a moment to escort you." he hung up. "Well?" Stephanie asked excitedly. "They said a security guy will be down in a moment to take us to the Boys." "Ohmigod! We're going to hang out with the Backstreet Boys! Wait `til Karen hears about this!" Tiffany said eagerly. "Who's Karen?" I asked while I checked myself out one last time in the mirror. I was nervous. "Oh, this stuck-up girl from school who says she met 98 Degrees," she explained. "We think she's a liar," Stephanie added. "We *know* she's a liar," Tiffany said. "She doesn't have any pictures or autographs to prove it." "Well..." I said, about to say something about being nice, when there was a knock on the door. As if on cue, both girls squealed. I opened the door. It was Mr. Tunney, the security guy from the art store. "Hello. I'll be taking you to the group's floor to avoid any, um, excitement from other guests." We nodded. "How do you feel about blindfolds?" All three of us froze, while Mr. Tunney began to laugh. "God, that gets you kids every time." We all laughed to show that we had sense of humor. He led us to the elevator. "SoĘthe Boys have lots of visitors after their shows?" "Well, at least one of the boys has a friend in each city. Like in L.A., for instance, Howie has some family friends. AJ had a girlfriend in New Orleans for a while. One of Brian's high school friends moved to Columbus, Ohio, so when the boys are there, he stops by. And Kevin has a, uh, friend who lives in D.C. But Nick, Nick doesn't usually have anyone come up. Seems to me, last time we were in Manhattan I saw a `Rhys' on the list for Nick. Was that you?" I shrugged. "Not that I know of." "Strange," Mr. Tunney said, "it's not that common of a name." The elevator stopped and opened the doors. "Here we are, kids. Try not to keep them up too late." We waved goodbye and wandered down the hall. Not knowing what to do, I knocked on the first door: Suite 900. Stirrings came from within. Finally, someone answered the door. It was Kevin, wrapped in a sheet and looking a little disheveled. I instantly felt horrible for disturbing him. "Hi..." he said, unsure of what to say. "Hi, I'm, uh, sorry to bother you. My name is Rhys and I'm looking for Nick. Mr. Tunney just brought us up here and I don't really know which room is his and..." I was talking way too fast. "Whoa there. It's fine," Kevin paused. "So *you're* Rhys." He looked at me appraisingly. "I see." He looked at me a minute longer, while I started to blush. "So okay then...Nick's down the hall, Suite 906." "Thanks. Sorry to bother you..." I said. He just nodded and smiled. The girls were frozen behind me. I turned, and Kevin shut the door softly. "Suite 906," I said to the girls, who followed me down the hall. When we reached the door, I knocked. "Just a sec!" I heard from within. In a moment, Nick answered in a t-shirt and jeans. He looked sexy, of course. Had I been expecting any less? There was something though, that I hadn't noticed before. His eyes looked sad. "Hey guys!" he said, over-enthusiastically. "Hi, Nick," Tiffany said. Stephanie said sheepishly, "I wanted to thank you for helping and stuff earlier. I am such a flake." "No, it's okay. You are not a flake. You're awesome," Nick answered. How sweet was this guy? He offered his arms for a hug and Stephanie accepted. Then he gestured for Tiffany to join in, which she did gladly. Finally, Nick freed a hand and pulled me in. "Group hug!" he yelled. Tiffany and Stephanie both broke away at the appropriate time, but somehow, I missed all social cues and stayed in the hug. I felt both his arms fall to my waist, and began enjoying it. Then I realized what I was doing and pulled away quickly. "Sorry," I mumbled, blushing. Nick winked at me quickly. "It's okay." He didn't seem to be paying attention to what he had seen earlier...Randall and I kissing. "Let me take you to the lounge. Howie and AJ are both there. I'm afraid Brian's in his room with Leighann and Kevin's...well, uh-" "It's okay. We accidentally knocked on his door when we got here," I offered. "Yeah," Nick said, "He's indisposed, but I'm sure AJ and Howie will want to hang out." "So Leighann's here?" Stephanie asked softly. "Yeah, don't tell, but she and Brian got engaged last night," Nick said without thinking. And so Stephanie began to cry. This had already been a long day for her. Nick put his arm around her. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm sorry, I forgot he was your favorite...You don't want him anyway, Steph, he smells funny," Nick said, trying desperately to comfort her. She giggled in spite of herself. "Come on, let's go introduce you to AJ and Howie. I told them how cool you guys were. They really wanna meet you." "Really?" Stephanie sniffed. "I promise. Come on," Nick said, and led all three of us to a third suite across the hall. Opening the door, Howie and AJ looked up from the TV. "Hey guys, this is Tiffany, Stephanie and Rhys." "Nice to finally meet you," AJ said. "Yeah, we've heard a lot about you," Howie added. "Hi," both girls said nervously. "You're welcome to hang out with us. We're just watching a movie. We have some pizza, if you guys are hungry..." Howie said. "Cool!" Tiffany said. "You want some pizza, Stephanie?" she asked. "Yeah, I guess," Stephanie answered, obviously feeling a little better. Girls her age bounced back fast. The girls both settled in on the couch with Howie and AJ and began eating. "Okay then guys, you have fun, Rhys and I have to go talk," Nick said, walking towards the door. "We do?" I asked innocently. "Yes, we do," Nick answered, leading me out the door. "Bye guys, I'll be back later to check on you," I said to the girls. "Play nice!" AJ said as we walked out the door. When we got back to Nick's suite, he took me to a sitting room and told me to sit down. "You know we have to talk." "I know," I said, realizing I would have to explain about Randall and the whole mess. We sat in silence for a few moments. I looked around the room nervously. "So you're..?" Nick asked. I knew what he was asking: if I was gay. "Yeah..." I said, quietly, not knowing what else to say. "Me too," he mumbled. "What?" "I am too," Nick looked into my eyes intently. "I thought so, but..." He interrupted me. "I know. This is weird." "Nick?" I asked. "Yes?" "Do you..." "Like you? Of course." "But how could you know in such little time?" I asked. I felt the same way: an instant attraction, but I was admittedly unsure. How could he be so positive about it all? "Rhys, I have something to tell you. I saw you last July in Manhattan." "So why didn't you just say hi?" "I was nervous. You were with a bunch of friends eating lunch. And you had gotten really cute, so..." "You mean even pop stars get insecure?" I joked. "Yeah, Rhys, they do. I, I mean, I do. I watched you for a while, and then went back to my room and called my parents to get your Jamestown number so I could call you. I even put your name on the guest list at the hotel...I was going to call you but I couldn't get up the courage." "Yeah, that makes sense...Mr. Tunney mentioned he had seen my name on the list before," I remembered out loud. "But it was just too confusing. I was just figuring out my sexuality and there were a million things going on in my life. A little later, I met a guy named Zach and started going out with him. We just broke up, recently." "How recently?" I asked. "Yesterday," Nick answered. "Nick, it hurts me to say this, but no matter how we feel about each other, neither of us are in any condition to be in another relationship." "Randall's gone now right?" "Yeah...finally," I sighed. "You were glad to get rid of him?" "He was clingy...and melodramatic...and I didn't really love him," I said. "It was time to end the relationship. What about you and Zach?" "Rhys, Zach was a nice guy. He was comfort and security when I needed it. But it wasn't love. I knew it wasn't love when I thought about you in that restaurant when I kissed him." "Nick, this isn't logical," I said, fighting my emotions and trying to stay in control. "I don't care. You know we've had a bond since we were born. Obviously, it's taking us to the next level. You can't tell me you didn't already think about it," Nick pleaded. "I did," I said, looking up at the ceiling. "But this doesn't make any sense," I grabbed at faulty logic. Love makes sense, I realized, no matter what. I slumped back on the arm of the couch and looked away from Nick. I felt him move closer, and put his hand on my thigh. I turned to say something, but I saw his face moving quickly in. Before I could open my mouth, Nick leaned over and kissed me. It wasn't a controlling, passionate kiss. It was light, sincere and sweet. I pulled back, dizzy and smiling. "Okay," I whispered. ------------------------------------------------------------- stay tuned.