Date: Mon, 24 Jul 2000 23:54:21 -0400
From: Brian Heck <kumquatboy@earthlink.net>
Subject: Ikaika's Confession

Do not read if you're under 18 (unless you're intelligent).  Contains
homosexual themes (Gasp! shock! Horror!).  Story is fiction (duh), not
meant to reflect on the actual lives of OTown (since I don't know them).
If you like, write me at kumquatboy@earthlink.net

Ikaika's Confession
Chapter 2

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" the sizeable woman asked as Ikaika
settled in.  "Gretchen . . . Can we talk?"

"Of course!!" she squealed.  "I've been trying to get you to open up since
we sat down!  I apologize if I've been monopolizing the conversation," she
said with a twinge of remorse in her eyes.

"It's alright.  I've just been so caught up in my own troubles lately.  But
maybe it'll help me if I get some of it off my chest, you know?"

"Absolutely, Ikaiko.  You just sit back and tell me everything."

Ikaika let out a heavy sigh.  "It feels like so long ago, but it was just a
couple of months . . ."

He had really auditioned for O-Town on a whim.  Growing up in Honolulu he
had always loved music, writing his own songs on his guitar and belting out
a little something for his family and friends now and then.  In fact, he
had been surrounded by music, at his father's radio station job, when he
first heard about the auditions.  "Why not?" he thought.  He knew he was a
talented vocalist and he certainly had the looks of a pop star.

His father even egged him on a bit, "Go for it!" he said, "It'll be fun,
and you might have a chance to be Hawaii's next big thing."

He was right.  Hawaii hadn't really exported a major star since, well,
Bette Midler.  And she had left the Honolulu island over 35 years ago.
True, she had been in the epic film "Hawaii" and had twirrled the native
poi balls in her act for years, but he felt that she never really
represented Hawaii like she should.  It was time he went and gave it his
own shot.

Apparently he wasn't the only one who had this idea.  He was shocked to see
the thousands of young guys who showed up to audition under the small tent
that TransContinental records had set up.  His heart almost immediately
sank, but he kept the loving words of his girlfriend, Malia, running
through his head.

"You are wonderful," she had told him, "You're an amazing singer and you're
gonna do beautifully."

He really needed that support as he slowly stepped into the tent.  There he
was, sticking out like a watermellon in a barrell of apples.  The Man.  Big
Poppa.  Louis J. Pearlman.  To Ikaika's surprise he didn't just bark, "GO!"
at him, but smiled warmly and shook his hand.

"Hi.  Ikaika, is it?"

"Yeah," he said nervously.

"Great name.  What are you going to sing for us?"

"Um, I'm going to do a song that I wrote."

The next 10 minutes went by in a blur.  He remembered finishing the song,
stumbling his way through The Star Spangled Banner and then fouling up some
rather basic dance steps.  He felt like a complete fool.

"Thanks a lot," Lou said when he was finally finished.  "We'll give you a
call."

"Yeah, right," Ikaika thought to himself.

He raced home and called Malia right away.  "Oh my god, Malia, I sucked so
badly!"

"Oh, come on," she cooed, "I'm sure you did fine."

"No, I didn't.  You have no idea!  Lou Pearlman was there and all these
people were watching.  It was so nerve-wracking!"

"Well, don't worry about it, honey.  At least you gave it your all."

She always knew the right thing to say.  "Thanks, sweetheart.  I love you,"
he said as he hung up the phone.  What did he have to worry about?  The
next day he would go back to school and life would return to normal.

But instead he was woken up by a camera crew knocking on his door.
Apparently they were taping this whole thing for a television show and they
wanted to get his reaction to his audition.  Perfect, he thought.  He was
not about to go on national television and tell everyone he sucked. So he
put on his best game face and gave it a go. He had only gotten a few words
out, though, when his telephone rang.

"I think that's for you," the producer said.

Ikaika was puzzled.  "Um, alright," he said as he picked up the phone.
"Hello?"

"Ikaika, it's Lou Pearlman."

"Oh!" he said with surprise.  "What's up?"

"Hey, I have a question for you," Lou said.

"Okay."

"How would you like to come down to Orlando for a few days?" Lou asked.

"What?!" Ikaika almost laughed, filled with shock.

"You made it, buddy! You're in the 25!"

"Oh my god!" he shouted.  How could this be?  He was sure he had sucked
majorly at his audition.  Nonetheless, he was extrememly grateful he had
been given this opportunity.  "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he yelled
into the phone.  While the cameras continued rolling, his mother grabbed
him for a hug and his father shed a few tears.  "He's just crying cuz he's
so happy for me," he told the cameras.  He called Malia immediatey.  Her
screaming into the receiver almost deafened him.

"Ikaika, honey!! I'm so proud of you!! See!  I told you you'd do
beautifully!  I love you so much!!"

Right away he knew that leaving her behind would be the hardest thing he'd
ever have to do.  Whether it was just for a few days, or a few weeks, or
. . . he couldn't even bear the thought.

The next day as he packed his bags, Malia laid on his bed keeping him
company.

"Oh, Ikaika, just think of it.  What if you actually make it in this group.
What if you guys get to be as big as Nsync or the Backstreet Boys?"

"You know I hate those guys."

"Regardless, you'll be rich!  And we'll live happily ever after and never
have to worry about money.  Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"I just want us to be happy, Malia."

She hopped off the bed and wrapped her arms around him.  "And we will,
baby.  You know we will."

When he arrived at the airport he met Junior Mika, the only other Hawaiian
who had made the initial cut.  He started sizing him up imediately.  He
didn't want to, but he couldn't help it.  Junior was much darker skinned
than Ikaika, who was amazingly white given his heritage.  He had a lean
dancer's body and had dyed the short curly locks on the top of his head
blonde.  He was really sweet . . . almost too sweet.

"So what do you think about all of this?" Junior asked him. "how hard do
you think it'll be to make the cut?"

"I don't know," Ikaika said, "I mean, only a third of the guys are gonna
make this next cut.  I'm sure there's a lot that goes into it.  Not just
singing and dancing, but your looks too."

Well you've got the looks part down pat," Junior said with a lift of his
eyebrow.  "I would kill for arms like that."

"Thanks," Ikaika said somewhat trepidatiously.  "But if you want it, you
just have to get it.  All it takes is hard work and discipline."

"Yeah, but it's in your genes, too.  I'm a dancer, so I stay pretty lean."

"Aww, man, I am going to suck at dancing, I'll tell you that right now."

"Well hey, all we can do is our best, right?"  Junior said with a smile.
He reached up and rubbed Ikaika's bicep.  "I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Thanks, bro, you too."

They boarded their long flight to L.A. where they would make a connection
to Dallas and then on to Orlando.  They listened to the standard reparte
("Here's how you fasten a safety belt!") and Ikaika wondered just how many
people he would have to knock over to make it out of a burning plane on
time.

They started the in-flight movie almost immediately.  It was "In & Out."
"Oh, I love this movie," Junior said.  "It's so funny," and yet he fell
asleep before the opening credits even finished rolling.  Ikaika tried to
focus on the film, but his mind was in a million places: Malia, his father,
Lou, and especially the other 23 boys he hadn't even met yet.

He was so deep in thought that he barely even heard the flight attendant
when she said, "Does he want a pillow?"  Ikika whiped his head around and
realized that Junior had rested his head on Ikaika's shoulder.

"Oh . . . um . . .Iiiii . . . uhh," he stammered.

"Don't worry about it, honey," the flight attendant said sweetly, "it
doesn't bother me a bit."

Ikaika looked nervously around the plane.  Was anybody else seeing this?
To his relief, the other passengers were intently watching the screen.  He
looked up and focused his hearing in to the movie just in time to catch the
ending.

"I'm gay!  I'm gay!  I'm gay!  I'm gay!  I'm gay!"

Just like that everything started to make sense.  Was Junior gay?  Did he
think Ikaika was?  And what gave him the right to just use his shoulder
like that?

"Well, he was a dancer," Gretchen remarked.

"Exactly," Ikaika responded, "and I realized that here I was, about to be
surrounded by 24 other singing and dancing boys.  This was bound to be only
the beginning.  The last thing I needed was to be distracted by something
like that."

"Focus, focus!" Gretchen laughed.  "So what did you do?"

"I just sat back and left him on my shoulder.  All the way to L.A."