Date: Sun, 04 Jun 2000 06:48:23 GMT
From: Randall Maverson <im_kant@hotmail.com>
Subject: Maverick

Disclaimer:  If you are not of legal age in your state to be reading this,
then stop now.  If you are offended by homosexual themes then you should
definitely stop reading this and click on your 'back' button now.  This
story is complete fiction, and in no way is meant to comment on the private
lives of the members of the Backstreet Boys or NSYNC.

Hi everyone!  Well this is my first time writing a story for the general
public- just thought I'd let you know.  Beyond that, I would love to hear
from anyone and everyone who reads this story.  I'm Randy Maverson, at
im_kant@hotmail.com.  So tell me what you think, whether you like it or not,
don't sugarcoat anything for me- be as nasty as you can.  And of course I
will reply to everyone that messages me as quickly as possible.

Shout out to the infamous Lucas Thompson, who I have been lucky enough to
secure as an editor for this story : )  He is a great guy, who I'm proud to
call a friend.  Without his help and insights, this story would be a jumbled
mess!  For any of you that haven't yet read his story BILY
(because-I-love-you) I encourage you to check it out- it's one of my
favourites.

A few other stories that are my favs that I recommend to everyone:
-- Escape/Choices by Raven
-- Not Meant to Be by Kyle (thanks for your advice- this story is here in
part b/c of you)
-- Kevin and Justin by Peter
-- Studio in the Country by Mike Ellis

Ok that's all from me for now, Randy.

MAVERICK

The date is January 3rd 2002.

"I never expected to fall for him so fast.  This complicates everything.  If
either of you had asked me five months ago what choice I would make in this
position the answer would have been so easy... I never expected that
anyone... could affect me this much."

"What would your choice have been then?" Thomas wondered.

	"What choice?  There wouldn't have been a debate.  My career would have
come first- just that simple.  I have invested the last five years of my
life getting to where I am today, not to mention all the money I've spent on
this education- I don't even want to know what the grand total of what that
comes to."

	"So are you saying that you would rather not have met him?" Angie asked
monotonously.  She was giving me an incredulous look with her eyes.  I hated
that look.  She always uses this look when she felt my stubborn rationale
was overwhelming my feelings.

	"No... yes... I don't know," I said, perplexed at her accusation.

	"Which is it yes, or no?" she persisted.  We sat in silence for a few
seconds.  I lit up a cigarette and mulled it over, as though I didn't
already know the answer.  She was still giving me that look.  Damn her.

	"No.  I would never wish I hadn't met him," I quietly admitted,
resignedly.

	"That's what I thought," she simply stated.

	"So we've established that this complication in your life is worth
having Rand, now the question is are you willing to take a chance on love?"
Thomas continued the attack.  Suddenly I was feeling outnumbered.

	"Do you really think that love is worth throwing away something
that I have worked my whole life to reach?" I fired back.

	"Does he make you happy?" Angie returned.  Seemingly such an
innocent question.

	"Happier than I have been in a long time," I answered without
thinking.  Big mistake.

	"Then I think you should chance it," Thomas decided.

	"Someone once told me true love is worth all the money in the world
and more, it's what makes life worth living and preserving," Angie
finished, using my own philosophy against me.

	"Is this true love?  How can I possibly know that we will be as
close as we are now, 2 years from now, one year, six months?" I wondered
aloud.

	"There's only one way to find out," Angie stated.  When did she get
so smart?


_____________


Before I get too much ahead of myself I should relate to you how all of this
came to be. My name is Randall Maverson, my friends gave me the nickname
Maverick thanks to my good fortune one night at the casinos, although I
really never one to gamble- but I was that night.  Angie Merckadee is my
best friend.  She and I grew up in the same neighborhood, but we never
became close until our last years of high school, and we've remained close
ever since.  Thomas Wilstone is the only other person, other than Angie and
my mother, whom I would trust with my life.  He and I met during my first
year at law school and became great friends straight away.  Tommy, Angie,
and myself are all 24, Tommy and I are in law school and Angie, fittingly I
might add, has become a successful psychiatrist.

_______________


April 23 2001, it is Friday night and Tommy and I have just arrived in New
York City to begin our summer articling jobs in our respective law firms.
We were celebrating in typical college fashion by getting plastered at a
club.  This is the night that would change my life.

Tommy and I had gone out to the club after dinner, which consisted of a
steak dinner and a bottle of red wine at one of New York's finest
steakhouses- it was delicious and very expensive, but worth it.  After all
we were celebrating.  We had arrived at the club around ten-thirty, which is
early, but in New York you wouldn't have known the difference.

Around midnight I had decided that I had enough dancing, especially because
I was at a straight club and besides my buzz was starting to wear off so I
grabbed a table.  Tommy, being the typical straight guy he is had been
trying to pick up all night but hadn't gotten luck so far, which was a rare
occasion for him.  He was the typical pretty boy, blond hair, blue eyes
about 5'11 and a lean 170lbs.  His problem was that he hasn't been much of a
drinker since his under-grad years and he wasn't holding up to well as the
night wore on.

After waiting about fifteen minutes for the waitress to come back with the
Jack and Coke I had ordered I became impatient and decided to head over to
the bar.  After I had been waited on I was returning to my table with two
Jack and Cokes, when someone crashed into my side causing me to spill the
one I was drinking at that moment all over myself.

	"What the fuh-," I spat out.  My anger was starting to rise as my
drunken mind slowly realized what had just happened.  I spun around to my
left to face the person who just decided to ruin my shirt.

	"Oh shit, sorry 'bout that man."  He turned to his accomplice, "Christ,
Kevin look what you made me do."  Then he turned back to face me again.
"Hey guy, look I'm really sorry about running into you like that, let me buy
you another drink.  My name is Nick by the way."  With that the tall guy
with the short blonde hair who had just caused me to ruin a hundred-dollar
shirt extended his hand for me to shake it.

	"Forget it," I said, "I'm not going to stay here and drink all
night while this alcohol dries into my shirt."  I glared at both of them,
not acknowledging Nick's hand, the taller one whose name was apparently
Kevin seemed to be very familiar to me, I just couldn't place him.  "Do I
know you from somewhere?" I asked the slightly taller dark-haired one as I
began to stare at him.  Just as he was about to answer me I noticed some
commotion in the direction I had been headed.  I looked over to see that
Tommy boy had apparently pissed off some very sexy girl's, very big
boyfriend, and without another word to my two assailants I hurried over to
Tommy in order to stop the jealous boyfriend from beating him into a bloody
pulp.

Unlike Tommy I'm not a pretty boy.  I stand about 6'4" and weigh around
235lbs.  Anyway I have had my fair share of experience with bar fights as I
used to bounce when I was in my undergraduate career.  With the help of the
girlfriend I was able to get the situation under control in a couple of
minutes; women of the fighters are the best help you can get in avoiding a
physical confrontation before it starts.

Once I had safely returned Tommy and I to my table, I decided that we had
had enough celebrating for one night and so I ordered a couple of coffees
from the bar and used Tommy's cell phone to call a cab.  Before I had the
time to put the phone away I came face to face with the two idiots who had
managed to ruin my shirt only minutes ago.

"That was some pretty impressive peacemaking you accomplished over there,"
the dark-haired one said with a smile.  I just stared at him; my anger had
completed faded into my current state of drunken serenity.  The calmness
that had overtaken my demeanor, however, began to transform into annoyance
at the presence of my two assailants.  As I continued to stare at him I
realized how strikingly handsome he was, and silently cursed myself for
frequenting straight clubs- I guess I'm naturally inclined to torment
myself.

"Look I'm really sorry I ran into you before," the blonde interrupted my
thoughts.  "We've decided to head out of here too.  I overheard you ordering
a cab, the least we could do is give you a lift home, and on the way I'll
see how I can reimburse you for ruining your shirt," the blonde offered.

My gaze shifted to him as he talked, when he was done there was a pause in
the conversation.  I thought about his offer, and had warmed up to these two
in the last few moments, and the prospect of saving twenty bucks on a cab
was appealing.  "Sure, why not," I replied.  He responded with a huge smile,
damn he was pretty handsome in a boyish sort of way- 'what am I doing?' I
silently asked myself.  Shaking my sexual desires from my head, I heavily
stood from the table and made my way over to Tommy, who apparently had
passed out, with his head on the table.

Noticing this, my two new acquaintances laughed as they helped me get Tommy
on his feet.  I shook him to get him back to the conscious realm and we
began to make our way to the exit with Tommy using my body as a cane.  As we
entered the cool night air of NYC a realization he me, "Are either of you
guys alright to drive?"

My question was greeted with laughter.  I looked at them quizzically and the
dark-haired one answered, "You still haven't placed us, huh?"  He didn't
wait for a reply; "The limo driver will get us wherever we need to go
safely."

"Limo?" was my intelligent response.  They just grinned at me.

______________________


As we neared their limousine, moving along slowly as I half-carried,
half-dragged Tom to the car, another limo that had just pulled up started to
evacuate its passengers.  One of the three young guys addressed us, "Rough
night Kev?  You're leaving early."

"Hey Josh, what's up?"  The taller of our escorts responded.  I made a
mental note to remember his name was Kevin.  Our blonde escort continued
with Tommy and me to the limo.  The driver was already out with the door
open and I placed Tommy inside.

"I don't think you said what you're name was," the blonde smiled genuinely
at me.  I was really starting to like him.

I smiled at him, "Randall Maverson, but you can call me Randy, or Rand all
of my friends do," I said extending my hand.  "Randy it is," his smile
widened as he shook my hand.  "Why don't we head over to Kev and the guys?"
he suggested.  "Sure, why not." I replied as I had suddenly changed into a
very comfortable mood.  I breathed in the night air as I looked up at the
clear, starless night.

The New York sky looked bleak and vast without them.  I thought of the clear
star-filled skies of my homeland; North America's most famous city, despite
all it had to offer, definitely had lost some of its natural beauty to man's
evolutionary pursuit of a better life.   A half-moon was the only object in
the sky that revealed its depth.  I reverted back to images of my teenage
years as I sat out on the rock plates near the beach at my cabin.  Looking
up at the stars on a calm night just like this, roasting marsh mellows over
the fire with my friends and family, the stars blanketing the night,
humbling humanity.  My perfect serenity of mood was again reached.

"Hey Nick!  Wazzup man!  Who's your friend?"

"'Sup Joe?  Randy, that guy closest to Kev is JC, next to him is Chris, and
finally the one with the flaming red hair here is Joey."  Nick motioned to
each one as he introduced us.  My eyes, however, returned to and settled on
JC and I found he was still looking at me, but looked away when our eyes
met.  "Guys, this is Randy," Nick continued.

We all exchanged our greetings.  "Kevin was just telling us how the klutz
over there ruined your shirt," laughed Chris.

"Hey!  That was Kevin's fault.  He's the one who knocked me into him," Nick
defended himself, putting on this really innocent (and very cute) face.

"Wait a minute," I exclaimed, apparently louder than I had intended, as I
immediately had everyone's attention.  "You guys are the from the Backstreet
Boys, aren't you," I finished.  I was smiling, happy that I had figured out
the mystery of why they looked so familiar to me, which had been on my mind
since before I had to resolve the situation with Tom.

Kevin and Nick laughed, Joey and JC were looking as if they were offended
and JC was just smiling.  "Those two chumps," Chris was talking as he
motioned towards Kevin and Nick, "are from that bunch of untalented wannabe
singers."

"We, however, are members of the far superior, famous group known as Nsync,"
Joey finished his band mates thought.  Chris and Joey kept up their looks of
mock offence, while JC did nothing but smile at me.  I smiled at all of
them, thinking how easy they were to be around, I did not expect people who
were in the public eye so often to relate to the general public so easily,
or friendly.

"Whatever," was Kevin's response to their accusations and feigned
superiority.

"Yeah, you wish," Nick laughed at them, "You guys really know who's tops in
this business and we've got the awards to prove it," he grinned at them.

"Guys I hate to break this up but we should really get these guys to where
they want to be," Kevin stated.  Everyone agreed.  "Are you guys coming back
after?" Joey asked.  Kevin looked over at Nick, who shrugged, "Yeah we might
stop back for a bit."  With that the two groups parted and we headed back
over to the limo.

_______________


"So Randy, now that you've figured out who we are, what do you think of our
music?" asked Nick, as we headed towards our apartment.  I sat beside Tom,
facing Nick and Kevin.

"Well, I am not really much of a fan of pop music, but I like most of your
ballads and slower music.  The dance music I could do without.  And to be
totally honest, in my opinion, you guys are far better than Nsync may ever
hope to be, judging from the songs I've heard by them- damn that "Bye, bye,
bye song drives me nuts."  They laughed at that.

"That's cool man.  So I take it that you don't own any of our CDs then?"
Nick inquired.

"Actually, I do.

"Really which ones?" Nick wondered, giving me another smile.  I was really
finding it hard to concentrate on this conversation.

"I actually broke down and bought 'Millennium' about four months after it
was released.  There are a lot of songs on that disc which appeal to me,
come to think of it, 'Back to your Heart' was written by one of you guys
wasn't it?  It's one of my favorites on the disc."

"Looks like someone's a closet fan," Nick laughed at me.  I grimaced at the
irony of his accusation.  "Yeah, actually Kevin wrote it," Nick continued.
Kevin smiled bashfully at me.

"Aren't you modest," I grinned at him.  "It's a great song in my humble
opinion."

Kevin's smile grew wider, "Thank you, but I can only take credit for the
words, the end product is a result of the group's work.  Actually we're all
very proud of 'Millennium', we worked very hard on it and as a result it
reflects how we as a group have grown and matured in our careers since we
put out our first album."

"Kevvy, his name's Randy not Carson Daly," Nick grinned at me.  "As you can
tell, Kevin here takes our image very seriously... sometimes too seriously."
  Nick chided him.  Kevin just gave him a reproachful look and then laughed
at himself, knowing Nick was right.

"Well I suppose it's hard maintaining a respectful position in the music
industry, with all your critics.  Anyway, I definitely like the end product.
  So what brings you guys to the big apple?" I asked changing the subject.

"We're here on business, actually.  Nsync and Backstreet are actually under
the same record label, Jive, and we're here to negotiate our new contracts
together to avoid any bickering which may result from one group feeling they
got shafted in comparison to other.  And we are doing some recording and
promotional stuff for our new disc which will be coming out this fall."
Kevin stated.  It was pretty obvious that he was heavily involved on the
business side of the industry as well as the musical.

"Sounds like fun," I said sarcastically.  "So how long are you guys in the
city for?"

"Well we just got in today, and it's gonna take at least three weeks, maybe
longer depending on how long the contract negotiations take," Nick stated.
"So, have you always lived in New York?"

"No, I just got here on the weekend.  Tommy and I are here for the summer
for our articling jobs.  We're both going to law school at York University
in Toronto."

"So you're Canadian then, eh?" Kevin laughed.  I never cease to be amazed at
American's fascination with the word 'eh'.  It's always the first thing out
of their mouths whenever you tell them you're from Canada.  "Toronto's a
beautiful city," he continued, "I always enjoy our concerts up there,
Canadians are just so nice, eh."  I looked at him with disdain, as both he
and Nick cracked up at his over-accented use of 'eh'.

With that the limo came to a stop and the driver informed us that we had
reached our destination.  Nick offered to help me carry Tommy inside and I
gratefully accepted his offer.  Kevin followed us in.  Once Tom was in his
bed, I went to my room and discarded my shirt and selected another one, and
returned to the living room where I had left my two guests.

"We never decided how I can repay you for ruining your shirt," Nick said,
suddenly looking concerned.

"Forget about it, things happen, I should have been paying more attention to
what was going on around me," I said, not wanting him to worry about it.
"Besides you saved me a twenty on the ride home, and the shirt might still
be salvaged after I take it to the dry cleaners."

"But-"

"Forget it, I refuse to hear anything more about it.  If your dumbass didn't
run into me, I wouldn't have gotten the chance to meet the famous and
talented demi-gods known as the Backstreet Boys!"  Stressing their band name
as though they were the sun that my world revolved around.  "Seriously
though, we're cool."

"Well, if you say so, but since we're heading back to the club anyway, why
don't you come back with us.  I still owe you a drink.  And besides it's
hard making new friends in the business Kev and I are in.  You seem like a
cool dude and I would like to get to know you better."

"Yeah, me too, and besides in this business, we can never know enough good
lawyers." Kevin smiled.

"Well since you put it that way, and if you're buying..." he nodded at that,
"Sure, why not."

The three of us headed back to the club in the limo and shot the breeze
getting to know each other better.  I asked them about their new CD and they
wanted to know about law school, before I knew it we were back at the club.


______________


"Hey guys over here," the guy with the flaming red hair shouted out to us as
we entered the club.  He was at the bar ordering some drinks.

"Hey Joe, where are Chris and JC?"  Nick returned.

"Follow me and I'll lead you to the table", he said grabbing the three
drinks he had ordered.  He led us over to the table Chris and JC were at; I
remembered which one was JC and so I finally had all the names to go along
with the faces implanted in my mind.  After we sat down, we talked about
nothing in particular, while draining our glasses until a certain girl
caught Joey's eye and he made his way to the dance floor stating he was
gonna get himself a slice of poon-tang pie.  We laughed at him as we watched
him go predicting his inevitable failure due to his lack of good looks and
inferior moves, he just ignored us as his eyes never left the brunette that
had caught his eye.

Eventually we all finished our drinks and made are way to the dance floor.
After about a half-hour of dancing I felt worn out.  Despite the fact that I
had been dancing with a charming, beautiful blonde, whose name was Lisa, it
just wasn't my bag baby.  So I told her I was gonna take a break, she
slipped her hand in my back pocket and pinched my ass as I gave her a hug,
telling her maybe I'd see her around sometime.  She caught me by surprise
when she did that and I flinched slightly, causing her to giggle as I walked
past her off the dance floor, giving her an embarrassed smile and a wave as
I retreated towards our table.  I decided to stop by the bar, as I started
thinking about how much easier life would be if I could be with someone like
Lisa.

At the bar I lit up a cig and ordered a triple shot of Jack on the rocks,
while I was waiting for the bartender to get my drink I rubbed my butt and
noticed that her pinch wasn't the only souvenir she had left me to remember
her by.  I chuckled (somewhat bitterly) at the name and number on the slip
of paper, as I collected my drink and made my way back to the table.  As I
approached I noticed JC had already returned to the table, and he was
looking rather dejected and lonely.  "You look like you just caught your
best friend in bed with your mother," I badly joked trying to lighten his
mood.

He just glanced up at me, with an overwhelming amount of hurt in his eyes.
The deep, midnight blue pupils that mirrored my reflection reminded me of
the sky in late evening, just before eventide, and I momentarily lost myself
in their beauty.  He looked away from me then.  "That'll kill you, you
know," he replied monotonously, referring to the cigarette in my mouth.

"I know," I said simply, "so what's bothering you?" I asked as the smile
disappeared from my face and a look of concern replaced it.

His eyes focused on me again, and I returned his gaze.  My body seemed to
melt as his mesmerizing, piercing; almost hypnotic stare probed the depths
of my existence.  He was questioning my character and I knew it; my soul
felt it.  He seemed to be trying to discover if he could trust me, if I
really cared about his problems, if telling me, a complete stranger, would
help to alleviate his pain rather than add to it.  While these thoughts
raced through my mind, our eye contact never broke; neither of us blinked.
Suddenly his demeanor changed, he had apparently found the answer to his
questions.

"No...

That's the end of the part one.  I hope that all of you who took time to
read this don't feel like you've wasted your time : )  and if you do-
e-mail and let me know why.  Any comments/predictions/insights/criticisms
are definitely welcomed, so let me know im_kant@hotmail.com
I hope all is well with you, bye for now, Randy.