Goin' On For Years

by Cori

February 1996

Kevin

"Shut up!" I scream, throwing a pillow down the length of the bus before I drop back down in my miniscule bunk. Damn Brian and Nicky keep giggling and wrestling, screaming at the friggin' video game. I don't know how many times I've already told them to shut up and if they don't soon, I'm getting out of here and smacking both their heads together.

My outburst seems to send them into stifled giggles, but I don't care as long as it's friggin' stifled. I'm trying not to be sick, and just want to sleep. My stomach's been bothering me for a few days now and it doesn't seem to be getting any better. I just want to shake this before it becomes a full-blown flu and if they can't keep their yaps shut, I'm never going to get to sleep.

As soon as I roll over, attempting to get comfortable, my stomach cramps up again and Brian cackles from the front end of the bus. I never have this much trouble falling asleep. Just keep telling myself to ignore them…close my eyes…deep breath…

But Brian cackles again, and there's a loud thump right before I hear Nicky scream. Tackled.

That's it. I kick the blanket off and push the curtain over, jumping out of the bunk to my feet. "Don't you two understand English?" They look up from wrestling, totally frozen. "What the hell is your problem? Other people are trying to fucking sleep!"

"I don't know how they can with you yellin'," Brian quips with one of his impish grins, but I'm not being won over.

I just glare at them and sigh impatiently. "If I so much as hear another peep out of either of you, I'm gonna knock you clear to the back of the bus."

Before I can even turn my back, it's Brian. "Peep." Dear fucking God, even as the youngest I was never this damn annoying! And just to make my point, I turn on my heels and grab a handful of his shirt, lifting him up from the floor and drag him a few inches. "Kev! Knock it off! Chill out!"

"Knock it the fuck off!" I bellow at him, shoving him a bit further down the aisle to separate him from Nick. "How many times does someone have to ask y'all to shut the hell up?"

"Jeez, Kev! Calm down already!" Nick calls from behind me. "We're just…"

"Look!" I swivel on my heels to point at him and then turn my head to point to Brian too. "I feel like crap! I need to get some sleep! And I don't know else to get y'all to shut up and just be courteous enough to let someone get some damn sleep! Can you please stop acting like two year olds and think about someone other than yourselves?"

"We didn't know you were sick!" Brian protests, shrugging into his clothes after I tugged at them. "All you had to do…"

"All you have to do is be courteous when someone asks you to be quiet!" I interrupt him. "You weren't raised in a barn, Brian! How come this is such a difficult concept for you to grasp?"

"All right!" We all turn around to see AJ standing in the aisle next to his bunk. "Kevin, you made your point! Nicky, Brian? Shut up. All settled now? Good!"

"Oh, yeah, right!" Nicky scoffs, looking around me to AJ. "Like you were quiet when I asked you…"

AJ's chin drops and he lifts his eyebrows at Nicky. "It was in the middle of the afternoon and you were just being a whiny pain in the ass…"

"What the hell do you think he's being?" Brian cuts in, pointing to me.

"I don't feel well!" I answer through gritted teeth. "There's a difference!"

"It's the middle of the God damned night!" AJ adds. "The rest of us are trying to sleep! It's not just him!"

Okay, now the whole bus is up. Howie just came out of his bunk and is blinking tiredly and in annoyance at us all screaming at each other. "All of you! Just chill out!"

How he manages to say that and they all listen, I'll never know. Brian flops down on the bench behind him and Nicky drops his shoulders, picking at his shoelaces. AJ sits on his bunk and I just stand there, looking at them all in disbelief. "I give up!" I grumble, waving my hands at them all and head back towards my bunk. "Can y'all just please keep it down?" I ask one last time and climb back into my bunk, slide the curtain over and roll over with my back towards the opening.

"Guys, come on," Howie says, his voice low and almost pleading. "We've got a long way to go still, we need to respect each other, you know?"

"Yeah, but he…" I hear Nicky complain.

"He's not feeling good, Nicky," I hear Howie say. "Just let him sleep. I heard him ask y'all a couple of times."

"Yeah," AJ interjects.

"Don't start, Alex…" Brian whispers.

"Hey," Howie intervenes again, "let's just let this go. Think about what happened and tomorrow we can sit down once we're cooled off and talk about it. Okay?" There's silence for a minute before he asks again. "Okay?"

They agree, but it's grudgingly, and minutes later…silence. Blissful silence.


AJ

My lighter clicks as the flame flicks on, and that's pretty much the only sound I hear. Brian and Nicky have finally shut up and I think everyone is asleep now, except for me. Can't. It's just not happening. Mainly because my mind keeps running a mile a minute and I don't like the thoughts I'm thinking, but I can't seem to turn them off. I can't even argue with them because I don't know what's wrong.

I mean, isn't this exactly what I've been complaining about wanting to do? Isn't this exactly what I've been hoping would happen? I'm on the road with a group, singing to excited crowds every night, sometimes twice a day… Our single is selling. There is nothing wrong with my life right now, right?

So why do I feel like it's all fake? Why do I feel like I'm plastering on a smile? Not all the time, though. It's just when I'm alone and left to my own devices that I have time to even think about anything. And what I think…? I'm a fake? That they're all going to figure out that I'm just pretending to have a clue what I'm doing. Cause I don't. I don't know what I'm doing. I still feel like it's all not happening, or, not happening to me…or something like that.

What are they going to think of me if they knew that I was scared? Would I disappoint them all? Are they thinking the same thoughts? Are any of them lying awake wondering if they're not good enough?

There is so much to do it seems, but so much time is spent waiting on something else to happen, or someone else to do something, or someone to get their part done…traveling, rehearsals, sound check…. Just waiting to get from one point to another.

There's just so much to do, and so much of it is out of our hands, but still rests on our shoulders somehow. Sure, they all say all we can do is our best, but look at how much people invested in us! Not only in money, but all that time… What if we fail? What if we don't like it? What if we can't pay back all this money?

What else do I want to do if I can't do this?

It all just makes my head spin. But when I'm busy doing it, I don't think about it. I just do it, and I love being involved. I love learning the songs, and the dance routines. I love hanging with the guys and the crew. I love walking into an arena before anyone else is there and hearing the echoes of our voices and the way our footsteps sound walking across the stage the first time. I love hearing the rumble of the crowd when we're standing on the side of the stage waiting to go on, I love standing in the huddle with the guys just before we do that, and praying with them, and the screams when we take the stage. I love looking out at the arena and seeing all those faces looking back at us, dancing and singing and just having a good time.

I love all of that…so what's my problem?

I guess that there are problems, that we make mistakes. That I screw up the dance steps, or hit the wrong note. Or someone else does. I'm scared of getting out there and being laughed off the stage, or that there won't be a good reaction. I make a fool of myself so no one else can tell me I'm making a fool of myself. Isn't that what all the comedians do? They're just beating you to the punch line.

I guess I'm just afraid of what the punch line is…and petrified that I'm it.


Kevin

I'm still not feeling any better when I wake up, but I force myself to get through the day's schedule. Germany really likes us, and there are fans coming to the hotels and radio and TV stations. Most of us have gotten over the middle of the night fight and just let it go, but each time my stomach cramps up, I just feel myself getting more and more grouchy about it. I'm not one of those people that handle being sick well. I'll get through what I need to do, but when I'm done, I just want to be left alone and there's no where to be left alone until we do a long day of interviews, sign autographs, sound check, more autographs, prep for the show, then the show, more autographs and press, then I'm allowed to go back to the hotel room and drop into my bed.

It's a long way away, right now, my bed. We've just finished our sound check and in the middle of the dance moves, I'm getting cramps. I'm missing steps, not getting into place in time, catching my breath mid-song when one of them hit and missing my queue and note. I'm getting a few funny looks, maybe one or two of them a little guilty considering what happened on the bus. Part of me wants to stick my tongue out at them and say 'told ya so!' but so far, I'm doing my best to just keep my mouth shut and get through this.

I can't even smell the catering they brought in for us. Just thinking about food makes me nauseous and I'm starting to wonder if maybe this isn't a little bit of payback for that stunt on the plane with Nicky when he was hung over. I can't even be in the room with the rest of them as they eat; way too sensitive to just hearing them chew. Instead, I go to the make-up room and lay down on the couch, closing my eyes for a little bit and attempt to ignore the cramps.

"Dude, you gonna be okay?" Brian asks, sticking his head into the room and looking concerned.

I nod with a sigh, catching my breath quickly. "As soon as I get hit with that adrenaline, I'll be fine," I try to assure him, but I'm starting to wonder. I'm wonder that if I do get sick, it might actually happen on stage, but maybe I'd feel better if I do. Not very professional, is it though?


AJ

Even through the make-up, Kev looked pretty green, but he managed to get through the show. I didn't think he would after rehearsals today, but once we hit the stage, it was like he wasn't even sick. However, as soon as it was over, he puked his guts up. How much does that suck?

Once he's back in the hotel, he goes directly to his room, but the rest of us just hang out for a while downstairs with the band. I'm still kind of pissed about the whole bus thing. I had just fallen asleep when I heard Kevin yelling at Brian and Nick to shut up. I hate it when we're stuck on a bus for the night without having a show beforehand. At least we're all up on adrenaline then, but when we're not, some of us want to sleep, some of us want to watch TV, or something. And last night Brian and Nicky just didn't give a shit. They were obnoxious.

We're back up in our hallway and as usual, Nicky and Brian are cracking themselves up leap-frogging down the hallway. If one of them were tired, you think they'd appreciate this at three in the morning?

"Dudes! Knock it off, Kevin's trying to sleep," Howie says, sticking his head out of his room.

Brian crinkles his lip and mimics Howie, taking another leap over Nick. "He's asleep by now."

That wasn't the answer Howie wanted to hear. He grabs Brian's shoulder and pulls him into his room and waves for me and Nick to follow. A group meeting? Now? Brian and Nick already look guilty when I close the door behind me. They should look guilty if Howie's initiating a group meeting.

"What's going on fellas?" he asks, sitting on the middle of his bed with his legs crossed. "What's the problem?"

"No problem," Nick says, shaking his head and looking at Brian. Brian shrugs and sticks his hands in his pockets. "We're just…chillin'. Like usual."

Howie shakes his head slowly and sighs. "What's he done lately to piss you off? Is it ignore Kevin week, or something?"

"I don't know what you mean," Brian says, sitting on the floor and wrapping his arms around his knees. "We've just been doing what we usually do. He's the one all touchy."

"Are you guys blind?" I ask. "You can't figure out he doesn't feel good? He doesn't even look good."

Brian and Nick look at each other again, like two kids trying to come up with an excuse for misbehaving. "We didn't think he was that sick," Nick tries, biting his bottom lip.

"We all have to live together, guys," Howie starts, looking at all of us one at a time. "We have to start respecting each other."

"You're starting to sound like Kevin," Brian mumbles with a sigh.

"Well, he's right," Howie says a little more firmly. "None of us want to walk around behind Nicky cleaning up his socks. Or AJ's cds, or your magazines, Brian. We have to knock this off before it really gets out of hand. And if one of us doesn't feel good, the least we can do is let them sleep when they tell us to shut up for over an hour."

"So, that's what this lecture's about?" Brian asks. "Be good little boys and do what we're told? What happened to all of us making up the rules?"

"I'm not trying to tell y'all what to do," Howie says with his own sigh. "I'm just saying that not all of us are being very nice."

"Kevin's not a prince, you know," Nick says, looking up from the stain on the carpet. "I mean, sure, maybe I could pick up a little more, but he's beyond anal about some things."

"Well, when he's feeling better, I'll tell him to lay off," Howie promises. "But until then? Could we all maybe just be more aware of what we're doing?"

Once Brian and Nicky leave, I look at Howie a little suspiciously. "Okay, spill."

He looks at me, not even trying to hide his worry anymore, almost looking relieved that someone's asking him. "I don't like how Kevin looks," he admits with a shake of his head.

"It's probably just some weird European flu or something," I suggest. "Maybe he ate something that he shouldn't have in England."

"Maybe," Howie considers, but he doesn't seem to be convinced.

I sit on the end of his bed and lean back on my palms. "My mom's a little worried about him too, I think. I just figured she was being a mom or something." Maybe mom should travel with us on the bus. We wouldn't do half the shit we do if she was standing over us. It would suck in a way, but in situations like the other night, she'd settle things a lot more quickly.

"We'll see. If he's not better soon, they'll make him go to a doctor." I think that's almost a wish. "I just hope it's not catching, or we're screwed." Never thought of that…then again, I still think he ate something. No one else is even sniffling or anything.

"So, what'd you think of tonight?" I ask, attempting to change the subject. I don't like that Howie's concerned.

The change in topic seems to bring a smile to his face though. "Pretty amazing." He nods slowly. "They were pretty out of hand."

They were too, and that makes me smile. "They knew the words to the single. Did you see them singing along?"

"I heard it on the radio this afternoon when I was getting ready to go. It's pretty weird. I mean, I'm used to hearing it, but then I think, everyone listening to the radio can hear it."

"Pretty cool isn't it?" I can't keep the smile off my face when I think that either. "I still wish it did better at home though."

He nods and settles back against the headboard. "We just have to give it some time. If we catch on over here, it'll make it across the ocean eventually. No one said it was going to easy."

I laugh and lean back to my elbows. "That doesn't mean I wasn't hoping it would be!"


Kevin

FUCK!

I don't think I have ever, in my life, been this sick. Each time my stomach cramps, it feels like I end up over the toilet. When I'm not there, I'm in a ball on my bed, like now. The phone is ringing, but I don't even want to reach out to answer it. It's my wake up call, and I haven't even been asleep to be woken up. I can't even think straight through the pain, and if I'm going to be honest, I am petrified. I've never had a flu like this. Ever.

All I want to do is close my eyes and be home…real home. With Ma, and Dad. With my two brothers - threatening me with the boogey man. I want to be home, in my bed, curled up beneath my own quilt. I want to be home. I just want to be home.

"Kevin? Honey?" When I open my eyes, Denise is sitting on the side of my bed looking positively white. I don't know how she got in here, or care. She's sorta a mom. Well, she is a mom, but not mine, but she can fill in right now. "Honey, what's wrong? Is it still your stomach?" I think I manage to nod in the realization that, some how, the pain is worse. "Honey, we need to get you to a hospital." She's talking very slowly, and very calmly and I think her tone scares me more. Okay, she can't fill in for my ma right now. My ma wouldn't scare me. "Okay? I'm going to call a doctor."

As long as they don't ask me to move… I can feel the sheets sticking to me, and Denise is wiping my face with a cold cloth. It feels as if she's touching me with a cool cloud, and it feels so good, and just when I go to take a breath, I'm struck with another cramp. All I can do is close my eyes and, I think I actually whimper.

"It's okay, Kevin," she tells me. "You're going to be just fine. We're going to take care of everything."

I want to go home…

~

They make me move, poking and prodding at my belly, speaking in English to us, German to each other and I'm officially freaked out now. I'm trying not to understand them; afraid of the words I might understand. Expecting to hear cancer… Please God, don't let this be cancer… Denise leaves the room with them and comes back as they bring a gurney in.

"Kevin, you're going to the hospital," she explains. "I'm going with you."

I hurt too much to think straight, and in my panic, I'm thinking it's life threatening.

"They think it's your appendix, honey."

It can't be my appendix. I've been puking for three days. Your appendix doesn't make you puke. And it been hurting in my belly, not where my appendix is. I want to scream 'they don't know what they're doing!' but I can't even inhale to make out the words. It's not my appendix. It's not. It's all in the wrong places!

What're they doing to me?

They're lifting me onto the gurney and taking me out of the room. True to her word, Denise follows me and the rest of the fellas are standing in the hallway looking as scared as I feel. Denise kisses Alex quickly and tells him she'll call as soon as she knows something, and that's it. The elevator doors are closed. I'm on my way to the hospital. Maybe once I get there they'll figure out it's not my appendix. I just need…I don't know. A flu shot? Antibiotics?

A wave of pain hits me and I close my eyes tight, wishing it would stop before we get there. If it stops before we get there, I won't have to worry about anything.

I can just go home…

The nurse can just call my ma and have her come pick me up. She can tell dad she doesn't want me playing football anymore all she wants, and I won't care. I don't want to play football anymore anyway. I just want to go home. I just want to go home….

~

Someone is telling me to open my eyes but it's so hard…so hard. I want to go back to sleep. It was a nice, deep, sleep where I wasn't dreaming. It was just sleep, but they're insisting I wake up, calling my name, rubbing the back of my hand.

I try to open my eyes, but it's still hard. The best I can do is flutter them a bit before giving up. Sleep is much better, but they keep on talking to me. My mouth is really dry and when I try to swallow, there's no spit. Man, I've never been this thirsty, and I've had some hangovers that left my mouth dry, but this is almost painful.

An angel watching over me reads my mind, and moments later, ice chips are rubbed over my lips. This makes me open my eyes. I want to see that angel…thank her. When I do, the person looking over me is an older, brown-eyed woman in a nurse's uniform. "How do you feel, Herr Richardson?" she asks in a thick German accent. "More ice?" I nod, closing my eyes and taking a deeper breath.

My guardian angel is German?

Then it hits me. I had surgery. I'm in the hospital, and I had surgery. After what felt like hours of waiting for blood and urine tests, a doctor explained to me what they were going to do, and I tried to protest until he touched my belly on the right side. One slight touch and I screamed. Real manly of me, huh? I guess it was pretty serious because people started hustling after that. I remember being brought to a different room, and told to count backwards from 100, but I don't think I got past 99. And now this. A brown eyed, German nurse feeding me ice chips because in the middle of all this, somehow, my mouth became cotton.


AJ

I don't care how much I've smoked today. I wasn't about to relax until Mom called to tell us what was going on. We keep being told to be professionals, and say Kevin's got the flu if anyone asks. No one has really said anything since he was taken to the hospital, just one phone call that said they were waiting for some tests to come back. That was over three hours ago.

And for how nervous I am about all this, I can't even imagine how Brian feels about it. He's lost all color in his face and barely moves away from the phone. There's explicit instructions to interrupt everything if anyone calls, but so far…no one's called. I think that's what's scaring us the most. If someone says 'no news is good news' once more, I think they're going to be hung out of the window by his feet.

Lou's trying to keep us busy and making sure we stick to our schedule, but I don't think one of us could tell you what we've done. All we need to do is look at each other and see the panic. If I think about that, it's pretty interesting, don't you think? We keep looking around at all these people, wondering what's going on, but all one of us has to do is look at each other and we know pretty much exactly what he's thinking, even if we are smiling and acting like nothing is wrong whenever we talk to a reporter. I guess that goes to show something is happening between us, huh? Something between the five of us more than any one else, and I'm not really sure when that happened. It's almost comforting right now. We don't have to say anything, we just know.

On top of not knowing what's going on, both Brian and Nicky look about ready to puke from guilt. Neither of them has cracked a smile, and they've barely been able to look anyone in the eye since we watched Kevin go. I thought for sure Brian was going to bust into tears. He might have, for all I know. He went back into his room and didn't come out until we had to go down for an interview. He didn't even let Nick in when he knocked.

Finally, Lou comes in and gives us one of his comforting smiles. "Kevin is going to be fine," he announces and I think all of us exhale at once. "He isn't going to be doing the shows for a while, though."

"Why?" Brian asks quickly, that look of fear all over his face again.

"He's fine, Brian," he assures him, going to stand next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "He had his appendix out, though, and it's going to be a few weeks before he's going to be back to normal."

"Shit," Brian mutters and starts out of the room, but Lou pulls him back.

"Where do you think you're going?" Lou chuckles, putting his arm around Brian's shoulder now and squeezing him. "We've got a show to do." I think all of us stand in shock for a minute, but all he does is give us one of his easy chuckles. "We're already down one, we can't be down two, now."

"We've got a…what?" Brian asks, stepping away from him.

"The bus is being pulled round," he tells us, a little more firmly. "Be ready to go in half an hour."

"Hang on a minute…" Brian interrupts again, his forehead creased in confusion.

Lou turns to face him directly. "Think of all the fans, Brian. We can't disappoint them. Kevin is going to be fine and he'll meet us Herne. Denise is staying with him until he's ready to travel."

"Can I at least call him?"

"He's not out from the anesthesia yet, buddy." That's almost too much for Brian to handle and he breaks away from Lou and heads out of the room. I'm closest to the door and go after him, but he hasn't gone anywhere. He's just pacing in the hallway.

"Bri?" I ask.

He looks up at me, and I'm not sure if he's relieved I'm not Lou, or disappointed that someone came after him. "Sorry…I just…."

"Hey, it's okay." I put both my hands up and nod. "Not sure how to take it all in myself."

"Just wasn't expecting him to need surgery, that's all."

"Ah, I don't think any of us were."

Lou comes out of the room and smiles, putting his arm around Brian's shoulder again. "Half an hour boys. And, Brian, I'll make sure you get to talk to him right after the show, okay?" Patting Brian on the back, he starts back down the hallway. I'm almost expecting him to say 'buck up, Little Buckeroo' but he doesn't.

We watch him disappear around the corner and Brian only shakes his head. "I can't believe I have to leave my cousin in some strange city in Germany."

"My mom will take care of him," I say, trying to reassure him. What else am I supposed to say? I think it's pretty weird too. We should at least be allowed to stop by the hospital, if not all of us, at least his family. How's Kevin going to feel when he wakes up and finds out we left him behind?

"Brian, you okay?" Howie and Nick come out into the hallway looking at us. Brian nods and heads to his room, and Nick moves past without a word. "Brian okay?" he asks me.

"Kind of freaked, I think."

"He's not the only one," Howie says, tilting his head towards Nick's back as he goes into his room.

"Well, if there was anything to worry about, they'd let us know." Wouldn't they?

Howie just looks at me, down the empty hallway, and back to me. "Yeah."

For some reason, I don't believe him either.


Kevin

The next time I'm aware of what's going on, I'm in a different room and Denise is sitting on the bed smiling down at me. "How do you feel, Kev?" she asks, brushing the hair off my forehead tenderly. Alex was one lucky guy to have her attention like this when he was sick. She's not so pale anymore, and seems a lot more at ease. Now she can fill in for my own ma, again.

"Dizzy," I answer. It's true, too. The room kind of feels like it's off it's axis or something.

"It's going to take awhile for the anesthesia to wear off completely," she explains. "You scared us to death, including the doctor when he got a good look at you."

"I thought I was going to die," I admit, closing my eyes. It's just so dang hard to keep them open.

"We'd never let that happen," she says and I feel her kiss my forehead. "I told you we were going to take care of you."

"My ma?"

"I've talked to her and told her everything," she says like she's talking to a four-year-old - slow and patient. "I told her you'd call her when you were feeling a bit better, but she knows you're fine."

"What about the fellas?"

She chuckles, squeezing my hand. "They know you're fine, too. Don't worry about anything right now, honey. Just try to relax and I'll let you get some sleep."

My mind is playing tug-of-war between questions and the beautiful black sleep. "But…the show…"

"Go to sleep," she says, whispering in my ear before kissing my cheek. "It's all taken care of. You just rest now. We'll go over the details when you're more up to it."

"What about Lou?"

"He was worried sick," she explains, slowly smoothing my hair. "And very relieved to know you're okay. Don't worry about a thing, honey. You don't have to worry about a thing right now."

~

Now I'm in a different room, but still the hospital, when I wake up. This time, I feel like someone's opened me up and ripped out my intestines. There's supposed to be some thingie that I can push for a nurse, isn't there? Some kind of remote control or something? I move my hands around the mattress and find it, pressing the button and closing my eyes again.

Dang, this fucking hurts.

Moments later a nurse is in the door with such a sweet, understanding smile. "You need your medication?"

"I hurt," I manage to say, thinking that has got to be one of the biggest understatements of the year.

"I will be right back." She disappears for a minute or so, and comes back with a doctor. He pokes at me a bit, checks the bandage, my temperature, my blood pressure… And once they're done looking at their little American science experiment, I'm given some pills to ease the pain. Every four hours I can take them, and within five minutes it seems the pain leaves and is replaced by a weird cloud-like dizziness. I'll take it. I can breathe again and I feel kind of like I'm floating. Pretty damn good drugs.

"Feeling better?" the doctor asks me when he comes back.

"Much," I sigh, blinking at him. It's a long blink, I think. I'm not even entirely sure if my eyes are open.

"We should be releasing you in the morning," he tells me and that makes me open my eyes a bit further. If I hurt that much, should I be leaving the hospital? "Your surgery went very well." What do you say to that? Good? So all I do is nod at him. "You will be sore for a few days and there are several stitches that will need to be removed in about seven days. In the meantime, you cannot get them wet."

Oh, that's gonna be gross.

"You need to rest." This time I must look at him like he's insane because he shakes his head at me very seriously. "You don't want to rip the stitches, Herr Richardson," he advises. "And you will not feel like dancing and singing for a few days anyway, that I can promise you. You need to rest and let your body heal."

I don't think he understands what I have to do. There's no time to 'rest'. I'm already feeling guilty about this happening. I don't even know if the fellas went on without me tonight, or if they're back at the hotel. Part of me knows they've gone on ahead. There's too much at stake to stop now. It's just not do-able. And I'm disappointed that I'm going to miss out on those shows.

~

Denise wakes me up next time and luckily, the pain killers are still working. At least, I don't hurt as much as I did before…until she makes me move. Then I'm reminded again that someone ripped a body part out of my gut. She keeps saying 'slowly…slowly…' and it doesn't matter. However slow I go, it still fucking hurts. I'm revoking her mother privileges again.

"They want you to go to the toilet before they can release you," she explains. "Just take it slow."

"This fuckin' hurts," I say, sorry about the cursing as soon as I say it, but she only nods in understanding and smiles at me. Sad thing is, I'm not even sitting up yet. I don't want to attempt standing. They've got to be insane. This has to be some kind retaliation for all those post war sanctions or something, right?

Denise sits on the side of the bed and rests back. Patting my shoulder as I moan my way to sitting. "Take your time, honey. There's no rush."

"Good thing," I smirk to her, "cuz there's no way I'm breakin' any records anytime soon."

"Probably not," she agrees.

I turn and look over to her, lifting an eyebrow. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

She laughs with a shake of her head. "No. But at least I have one of you that I can keep my eye on for awhile."

I can only stand, waiting for the agony to subside, so I wag my finger at her, waiting until I can breathe to comment. "That is not my fault. I do my best to keep those little rugrats in line," I tease.

"Ah, but Kevin, that's not your job." I try to laugh and end up groaning in pain instead. Fuck! This hurts. How can this be one of the most agonizing things in my life? How long can it take for one person to walk five feet to a bathroom? Shit! "Were you going to scoff, Kevin?" Denise asks me, sitting up from my pillows.

"You haven't heard Lou give me the 'they look up to you' speech?" I question. "And I can't help it. Sometimes, they just do some really stupid things and I'm around to knock their heads together."

"They do look up to you," she agrees.

"Not that any one of them will admit it," I attempt to chuckle, groaning again as I take a step. No laughter. There will be no laughter ever again.

"They admit it," she tells me firmly. "Maybe not to you, but they admit it. At least Alex does. He thinks you're 'way cool.'"

"Stop making me laugh," I warn her, grunting. "It hurts."

"Kevin…" She's suddenly got that scolding mother tone and I turn just a bit too quickly to look at her. Fuck. "You know they look up to you. They listen to you." All I do is give her a disbelieving look. "You get them all in a huddle, don't you? You get them to pay attention when they need to, don't you?"

They can't figure out how to shut up on a bus, though. "Isn't that debatable?" I question, taking another step. Do I? Do I get them to pay attention? Or do they just humor me?

"Have you ever spoken candidly with your own brothers, Kevin?" she asks me, resting across the bed. "Have they ever told you that they thought you'd never listen to them?" Well…yeah… "And you'd do anything else but tell them you admired them?"

"Now, that's not true," I correct her. "They knew I admired them. Hell, I copied every step they made, basically."

"Well, they may not be following your every step, but trust me, they look up to you."

I have finally made it to the bathroom and grab onto the handle in triumph. "Well, they kinda have to. I'm taller than they are."

"Oh, stop!" She waves her hand at me, dismissing me with a knowing smile. "Go pee so we can get out of here and order some good room service."


AJ

"Kev, man, you could have just pretended to pull a muscle or something if you wanted a few days off," I tease the second I see him. He cracks a smile with a soft laugh, and I'm almost afraid I've said something wrong. I was kind of expecting more of a reaction.

"Don't make me laugh, Aje," he groans. "It hurts."

"Well, again," I say, wrapping my arms around him in a tight hug, "you could have just pretended. Removing an organ is a little over the top. How're you doin', man?"

"A little sore," he admits, but is interrupted by the rest of the guys coming in. Brian virtually throws himself at him he's so relieved to see him. "Hey, cuz, how're you?" he says to him gently, trying not to wince.

"Good to have you back," Brian answers with a huge smile. Howie hugs him next, a little more aware of his condition, with a 'welcome back.' And then there's Nicky, still feeling pretty darn guilty if you ask me. He won't even look at Kevin, although he does hug him and mumble something. Kevin smiles and tousles his hair with another light laugh.

"So, what all have I missed? You looked good from the sidelines." He leans against the wall as the rest of us go about changing out of the stage outfits. We all seem to be talking at him at once, as if he's been gone for months instead of just three days. Well, all of us except for Nicky that is. Kevin, of course, notices this and furrows his forehead at us as Nicky looks down to untie his sneakers. There's one of those, 'we'll talk later' looks and he nods back to us. "Nicky, did you grow another foot?" he teases. He probably has. I swear he grows an inch an hour or something like that. He started out coming up to my chin, it seems, and now he's almost equal height. But that's all he's gained…inches.

"What happened to your chin there, dawg?" I ask, finally figuring out what's so different. Kevin's basically got a beard and moustache, thick and black. Not that that should surprise me considering his eyebrows. For not having any chest hair, he makes up for it from the neck up, doesn't he?

"Yeah," Howie says, like he's just figured out the difference himself, "seems to be some kind of dirt or something."

"I was not about to lean over a sink to worry about a clean shave," he tells us, his fingers running over his chin. "And I can tell you, I'm still not about to lean over a sink to worry about a clean shave now either."

"Ah, suck up and deal," Howie teases, walking by and flicking his towel at Kevin with a laugh. "It was just a little organ!"

"Yeah, ya big baby!" I add, following Howie to the showers.

"Keep it up! I'm keeping score and when I can, I'll kick all your asses!" Kevin calls to us.

I can't even say how great it feels to see him. We knew he was fine, and we'd all talked to him a couple of times, but actually seeing him is just a huge relief. What movie is it where they float because they're happy? Mary Poppins? Brian's acting like that guy that keeps floating up the ceiling…and Nicky's the one that's gonna bring him down. He's almost had the opposite reaction than the rest of us. He's suddenly really quiet again.

"You okay?" Howie asks him after the shower and Nick just shrugs and starts getting dressed.

"Dude, he's not pissed at you or anything," Brian says with an easy smile. "Everything's cool." But Nick just attempts a smile and goes about his business. We all look at each other, shrugging a bit. Whatever, right? He'll get over whatever it is eventually.


Kevin

"Oh…sorry," Nick mumbles when he sees me.

I'm lying on the bench in the front of the bus, mainly because getting in and out of the bunk hurt too much. I sit up a bit more, doing my best to ignore the tinge it creates in my side and cover it with a smile. "It's okay, I'm up."

"Nah, it's nothing." He shakes his head and starts heading back.

"Nicky, what's going on?"

"Nothin'."

"Not your fault, dude." That stops him, dead in his tracks. "You didn't make this happen, or help it along. It was going to do it all on its own, Nick." He looks over his shoulder at me, really hesitantly and slowly the rest of his body follows. "Swear, man. There was nothing anyone could do." He just looks at me a minute. "Don't believe me?"

"No, I do," he says quickly. "I just…wasn't sure. An' I feel bad if we made it worse or something. We didn't mean to."

Man, he's got some guilt. "I know that, Nick. Hell, I knew that that night." Maybe these pain meds have a bit of truth serum in them, too. All I know is that they work really good. About twenty minutes after taking them I feel… How can I describe the feeling? Okay, you know when you go fishing early in the morning and there aren't any ripples on the lake? And you toss your line in, and watch the bobber and when the fish nibble, it makes those little ripples, and the bobber rises and falls so gently? Well, my brain feels like the bobber on these things, creating ripples against my skull and I can just about feel my brain rising and falling.

He comes and sits across from me, watching curiously for a minute. "You still hurt a lot?"

I shake my head slowly. "Not right now, no."

"Thought so," he chuckles. "You look stoned."

"How would you know?" Stupid question, right?

"Cause AJ looks the same way when he's stoned," he answers, and I blink at him. AJ? Stoned? I think he just figured out that it was news to me because his eyes just widened. He sighs heavily and drops back, closing his eyes and covering his face with his hands. "Shit." All I can do is laugh. "I do that all the time!" he groans, and looks at me. "Please don't tell him I told you!"

"Chill, dude, it's not a shock." It's not, really, now that my brain's caught up with me. He drinks and parties enough that getting stoned really shouldn't be a surprise. There's a lot of people hanging around that are a lot more accustomed to being on the road, and drugs are part of that life. There's really no way around it. And, like I have room to say anything? I indulge myself on occasion. All of us have, I think, including Brian. Then I look at Nick. "You haven't done anything stupid, have you?"

He shakes his head emphatically and widens his eyes. "No!"

"Good, cause I'll kick your ass," I warn him, pointing a finger at him sternly.

"I know that," he says. "And so would Howie, Brian, and AJ."

I chuckle and settle back a bit more. "I know. Kinda sucks to be the youngest when you're used to being the oldest, doesn't it?"

He shrugs, but there's a small smile. "Sometimes it does, but it's kinda neat too, not to have to be the responsible one." He brings his legs up and drops his chin down onto them. "Is it weird for you? Having to watch us when you've been the baby all this time?"

"I don't mind it," I admit. "Y'all ain't so bad usually."

He laughs out right and shakes his head. "You really are drugged, aren't you?"

"Why?"

"Well, first off? You have a thicker accent. And you're admitting we're not so bad when usually you act like you want slam our heads together."

He's still smiling, but what he's said kind of catches me off guard. "Do I?"

"Don't you?" he questions back. "You always have something to say about what we should be doing and how we should act."

I do, don't I? "Dang…"

That's about as vocal as I can be about that realization, and he chuckles again. "Yeah, you're wasted."

"Well, kind of, but dude…I didn't know I was such a pain in the ass, though."

"You can be," he says. "But we kind of need it sometimes." He looks at me with a giggle. "And I'm only going to admit that because you're wasted and maybe you won't remember it."

I shake my head and close my eyes. It's getting hard to keep them open now. "Oh, I'll remember it. You said I was right."

"Sometimes," he corrects me. I can hear him stand up, and open my eyes to see him looking at me from the aisle. "I'm glad you're back, Kev. I missed you."

"Thanks, Nicky. I missed y'all too."

March 1996

AJ

I close my eyes, sitting in the booth, listening to Brian put down his tracks. We've been in here for hours, but if you told us that, we probably wouldn't believe you. It doesn't even remotely feel like hours, or that we've been doing this for days. We're just jammin', y'all! Between laying down the tracks, and learning more about the boards, hangin' with the producers and some of the studio musicians, I'm starting to feel like a professional. It's a world unto itself and in here, and when we suggest something, they listen to us. Hell, we even tried a few things out! In here, we almost know what we're doing, and what we don't know, we're learning PDQ…heh.

So, like I said, I'm in the booth, listening to Brian lay down his tracks and can just hear our vocals behind him, even though they don't exist yet. Nicky's asleep, sitting in the corner, Howie's gone out for food, and Kevin's at the boards soaking up whatever information he can. Lou's been in here most of the day, nodding and smiling at us in total pride.

I feel like some little kid, wanting to tug on people's sleeve's and say 'I did this!'

"You're up," Gary says, slapping my knee quickly. I've been itching to get in there and do this. Passing Brian on the way in, I lean both hands on his shoulders and jump up with a growl. I am so ready to get this done.

It's better than a drug. My adrenaline just rushes and I can barely stand still. Matter of fact, I don't. I bounce on my toes as I put the headphones on and nod to Gary and Greg, the techs working tonight. Oh, and Kevin too, who is laughing at me with a total knowing look. As if he wants to do the same thing when he gets in here.

And then the music starts in my ear. I jack my thumb up to ask them to bring up the volume, and nod when it sounds good, listening to Brian's voice and then it's my turn. Funny thing about singing, actually, is that it's something I really don't have to think too hard about. I take a breath, open my mouth, and look at the notes and something clicks. It all just makes sense without me even really knowing what it is that makes sense. It just does and it's such a high.

I'm doing something right, too, because Gary and Greg are nodding and smiling and Kevin's shaking his head with a smile. Howie's back, his frozen yogurt melting as he watches me, and Brian looks up from the TCBY bag to watch. Any other time in my life, something like that would make me self-conscious, but when I'm singing, I don't even think twice about it. I've been getting looks like that since I started singing.

And what makes it even cooler is that the people staring at me now know who I am under the voice, and are still impressed. When I finish up, I'm greeted with smiles and 'good job'.

Nailed it, y'all!

Brian is attempting to wake up Nick for his turn as Howie tosses his extra chocolate chips at him. I flop down next to Kevin with a huge smile on my face. "Dude," Kevin says to me, shaking his head, "I'd give anything to have that voice of yours."

I lift an eyebrow at him in surprise and look at him. "Huh?"

All he does is smile and pat my shoulder, turning his attention to Nicky, now awake and truly looking miserable. "Nick," Greg says gently, "why don't we call it a night and start back up in the morning?"

"No," Nick whines, rubbing his eyes again, "I can do it."

"Not doubting it, but I think we'd do better tomorrow. Matter of fact, all of you, go home, get some sleep. We've got enough down for today."

"Ah, y'all just don't want him embarrassing himself after me," I crow playfully, putting my hands behind my head and stretching out in the chair. Until Kevin slaps his arm into my stomach, that is.

"Get over yourself, punk-ass," he says standing up, slapping the side of my head.

I suppose I deserve that, don't I?

~

When I roll over, I could swear I see a glimpse of female legs heading to the bathroom. It's got my attention, and I sit up a bit, making sure I'm not just wishful thinking. Maybe I'm too tired and it was Howie or something… But a few minutes later, the bathroom door opens again and Kristin comes out in a long tee shirt. She doesn't notice I'm awake as she goes really quietly into the kitchen, but she sees me when she comes out and I'm greeted with a smile.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake anyone up," she whispers, although it's just us out here.

"You didn't," I say, sitting up more. "Why're you up so early…or shouldn't I ask?"

She sits on the couch across from where I'm sleeping and curls her legs up beneath her, shaking her head, still with a smile. She's one of those people that you look at and just know they're really nice. It's her smile, I think, and her eyes. They're always so warm and inviting. I can understand why Kevin fell for her. When they're together, Kris and Kevin are really good - affectionate and happy. "Kevin's snoring," she tells me with a chuckle before sipping her juice.

I nod in understanding. "Kind of hard to sleep through that." She nods a bit, but there's still one of those small smiles that you can tell she thinks even his snoring is cute. "I didn't know you came back here."

"You were out cold when we came back," she says. "Sounds like you all were really busy these last few days, huh?"

It's my turn to smile. "It's been great."

"That's what Kevin said." But that's when her smile fades and she looks out the window. It's barely sun up, I realize.

Shit, did something happen last night between them? Is that why she's up so early? "Everything okay?"

She turns and nods to me quickly…a little too quickly. "Yeah, fine."

I don't believe her, though. "You sure?"

And she hesitates just a bit too long. "Yeah… It will be."

"But not now? What happened?"

"Silly stuff," she says with a shrug. "Some tension, I guess, because we're not seeing a lot of each other."

"Well, like you said, we've been really busy lately." She nods, but damn, if her face doesn't give away every thought. Whatever she's thinking, she's not happy. I reach up and place my hand on her leg. It's the only thing I could think of to do, and she rests her hand over mine and attempts another smile, but now her eyes are full of tears. Shit…I don't know what to do when a girl cries! "Kris?"

"I'm just being silly," she assures me, wiping a tear from her cheek and still trying to smile. "I just…miss seeing him, you know? And then I start thinking how much I'm going to miss him when you all really make it, you know?" I nod, trying to be sympathetic. It's got to suck to be dating Kevin now, I guess. He is always busy, or working on something to get this album moving. Or then there's one of us he's doing something with, not to mention the interviews we're doing over here with German TV and stuff. "I guess I'm just being a girl," she tries to tease herself.

"You make a good one," I tease back. "All the right parts in the right places, and all that."

She chuckles, shaking her head at me. "Well, thanks. I try."

"You know, Kris, he's just really busy right now, that's all. Don't take it personally."

She puts her juice down and leans over, wrapping her arms around me. "Thanks, Aje," she whispers before kissing my cheek. She picks up her juice and stands up now. "You should go back to sleep. It's still really early."

Yeah, it is. She heads back to Kevin's room and I lay back down. I don't know what I said to her to earn a hug, or calm her down. Whatever it was, it seemed to work. Maybe he's said the same thing to her, but she didn't believe it from him? Maybe she wonders about him? Does she suspect what he's doing when she's not around? Does he tell her?

It's really not my business, though, is it? This is between them. I just call it like I see it, and she shouldn't take it personally. I don't think any of us know what to expect, only that whatever happens, it's going to be big.


Kevin

"Kev?" Someone is whispering in my ear. "It's your mom." I open my eyes and Brian's leaning over, poking my shoulder. "Phone, Kev," he whispers.

I manage to nod, figuring out that Kristin is still lying in bed with me. Actually, not really lying with me, more on me. Her head is resting on my belly, her arm is draped across my waist and hip, and our legs are intertwined. Somehow, she's actually sleeping, even if it looks as if that's the most uncomfortable position I've ever seen. And a position I can't just slip out of without waking her. Brian's already out of the room, and Mom's hanging. I forgot it was Sunday. I always call after she gets back from church.

"Kris," I whisper, running my hand over her hair, "I gotta get up, darlin'." She nods against me, sighs deeply, and rolls over…settling onto my shoulder with her back against my torso. At least this time she looks a little more comfortable, but I'm not getting up any easier. Now, I run my hand down her side and side to side over her thigh. "I'll be right back," I mumble, and slip my arm out from her. She just rolls over a bit more, pulling a pillow closer and falls back to sleep. I slip on a pair of shorts and head down to the kitchen, picking up the phone. "Hello?"

"So, you were sleeping in, huh?" she teases.

"We had a pretty late night," I explain, noticing coffee has been made. There's a reason to pray to God, right there…coffee.

"You also have a pretty girl there with you too, don't you?" she asks. "Kristin?"

Um…huh? What? "Yeah…why?"

"Things are going good with her now?"

"I guess so…" I glance out of the kitchen, wondering which one talked to her. AJ's asleep, and no one else is around. Brian woke me up, but I don't know where he went. "Does it matter?"

"I'm just asking, dear," she chuckles. "I've asked about your girlfriends before. Does this mean you're over Beth?"

"Ma…" I groan, pretty much like a child. "It's way too early."

She laughs. "You never have a sense of humor when you stay up too late, Kevin."

"That's not the problem. The problem is no one makes any sense when I just wake up. And for the record, we slept just fine." I can't believe I'm having this conversation with my mother. Why is it that no matter how old I feel, or grown up I may think I am, one simple conversation with my mother makes me feel like I'm thirteen? And this time, I'm thirteen caught with a Playboy in the woods. All she does is chuckle, though as I feel my ears burn. She's not picturing me…and… Nah…she's not. That's just….ew. "Ma, can I call you back when I'm a little more awake?"

"How about I call you back? I'm heading out to have lunch with Aunt Anita. Do you know where?"

"Did you tell me and I don't remember?"

"Cedar Village," she says. "They've opened a new Sunday brunch."

"Oh." What am I supposed to say to that? I don't know anyone at the Village anymore. Haven't for years. "Well, I hope it's good."

"Don't you want to know who owns it now?"

"Ah ha! That's why you're playing with me. Okay, Ma, who bought the Cedar Village? Wait, let me guess…Beth and her now no longer schoolteacher?"

"No…just Beth. She didn't marry her schoolteacher apparently. Had a change of mind. Would you have any idea why?"

"No. Do you?"

"Why would I be asking you if I knew?" she asks innocently.

"Ma? Did you have too much wine at communion or something this morning?"

"Things with Kristin are good?"

I am entirely not awake enough to follow any of this. "Fine, Ma. Are you trying to tell me that they shouldn't be? For the Cedar Village?"

"No, I'm trying to find out if you had anything to do with her not getting married, Kevin."

"I haven't talked to her since I was home last time."

"Okay…I'll call you back later then. Go back to sleep, honey. Love you."

I'm going to try my best not to try and figure out what that conversation was all about. I wasn't lying when I said I haven't talked to Beth since I was home. Heck, she hasn't even crossed my mind to be honest. I came home, got busy with the fellas, saw Kristin again and it didn't even cross my mind again. I just got on with my life.

And, as I slip back into bed next to Kristin, I consider what my life is right now. House full of co-workers, but more than that, friends, a woman I'm falling in love with curled up against my pillow, a career that has slowly, but steadily, moved forward. In spite of all the doubts I had about doing this, right now, this is exactly what where I wanted my life to be heading. Right now…

Right now, Kristin is rolling over and placing her head back on my belly, her hand draped back across my hips, and her legs intertwine back between mine. And she sighs so peacefully in her comfort. I look down to her, still confused by how this position could be comfortable for her. And then I wonder if she is…who am I to doubt it?

Even after last night, she's here with me. And I don't know how we got on to the topic of our relationship last night in the first place. I headed over to her apartment after dropping the fellas off because I felt like I hadn't seen her in weeks. She was still awake, watching bad TV and headed out for some ice cream. We sat outside by the lake. It was warm. And soon, we were in some deep conversation about "us." Where were we going? Again. What do we want out of this? Again. Do I think we want the same thing? Again.

And again, it was back to the same answers… Well, the same single answer: I don't know. I don't know how to explain it any clearer than that. I just don't know with everything happening in our careers. She wants to go up to New York like we'd planned before any of this started with Backstreet. I don't want to hold her back. I don't want her to sit around and wait to see what happens with us, but do I want to break up with her because of that? No. She doesn't want to break up with me either. And that leaves us back at the beginning. Where are we going? What are we doing? What do we want? For some reason, I feel like I'm wrong saying 'a career' but it's the truth. It's what we both want…why is it wrong saying that though? Right now…it's what we want.

What I don't want is to give this up…the way she feels sleeping next to me, the sound of her breathing, watching the way her fingers curl up in her sleep, the way the sunlight makes her hair lighten… I don't want to give up the way she smiles, or the way she smells coming out of the shower, or when she wraps her arms around my shoulders. I don't want to give up the way she kisses me, or the way she touches me even if it can't be every day. Is that selfish of me? Fair to her? I'm not begging her to stay. She's free to change her mind…to walk away and leave. But I can't give her the answers she wants to hear right now either.

So, we're back to the beginning… Where are we going? What are we doing? Do we want the same thing?

I. Don't. Know.


Later, I'm in the kitchen having a full cup of coffee, just got out of the shower. Howie and AJ are throwing a pillow at each other, and Nicky's just been dropped off and it turned into 'Monkey in the Middle' somehow the second he walked in the door. Then Brian comes in with the basketball under his arm and heads straight to the kitchen faucet, turns it on and starts drinking.

"And where were you all this time?" I ask, nudging him with my foot.

"Playground," he answers between gulps, "b-ball…Sam." There's suddenly a chorus of four-year-olds singing 'Oooh! Sa-man-tha!' teasingly. Brian shuts the faucet off and simply smiles, shaking his head. "We were playing basketball, fellas."

"And you got that," I poke at his collar bone, "how? Getting hit by her lips or something?"

His eyes widens, and I can't tell if it's the heat, but he's bright red. "No way…"

AJ hops up onto the counter and puts an arm around his shoulder. "Dude, you be branded, my man." Brian can't think of a thing to say and just turns brighter.

"So that's how y'all play basketball in Kentucky?" Nick asks with such an impish smirk. He looks over to me. "Go, Cats?"

"Like you have room to talk, Herr Arnold Glockenspiel," AJ says with a lift of his eyebrow.

Howie pokes Nick now with a teasing, questioning smile. "And how many letters have we sent to Germany?"

"Shut-up," Nick sulks, pulling away from Howie.

"He's too young to be doing that." AJ pokes Brian's collarbone.

"Damn straight," I answer, sipping my coffee with a smirk to Brian, still turning bright red.

"Look who's talking!" Brian says, pointing to me.

"Shut up," I mumble firmly, suddenly feeling my heart pound against my chest.

"Yeah, maybe I'm learning all my moves from you there, Kev," Nick continues.

This time I shoot him a stern look and stiffen my jaw. Please don't let Kristin hear this…PLEASE don't let Kristin hear this…. "I said, shut up."

"Monkey see, monkey do," Brian continues, but then his face drops and I just know my prayer has gone un-answered.

"Kevin?" That's Kristin's voice trying very hard to stay calm and rational. "Can I see you a minute?"


AJ

Here lie the bodies of Brian Thomas Littrell and Nikolas Gene Carter…two Backstreet Boys that never grew up to become Backstreet Men.

As Kevin puts his mug down on the counter and follows Kristin down the hall, I'm envisioning taped outlines of two bodies on the kitchen floor. And I could swear I can hear each of our hearts beating in the dead silence. Man, if that isn't busted…

"Is that why you're not sure of where we're going?"

"Oh, come on, Kristin! We're just teasing!"

"I'm not STUPID, Kevin! What the hell have you been doing?"

I look to Brian and then to Nick, then to Howie, and back to Brian and Nick. "Run."

"From which one?" Howie questions, glancing down the hallway, cringing as Kevin's door slams shut. It doesn't really make much difference. We can still hear them arguing through the open windows and the echo in the courtyard behind the apartment building.

"We really should…do something," Brian mumbles looking guilty.

"I didn't know she was here," Nick says, looking miserable.

"I don't do the same thing!"

"Which is worse, Kristin? Sleeping with someone that knows from the start there's no chance, or letting someone think they have one the way YOU do…What? Are you surprised? I'm not supposed to know about THAT?"

Damn… We shouldn't be listening to this, should we? We should go out and let them fight in peace, right? We all have the same idea and I knock Brian's shoulder jumping off the counter. He's still got his basketball so the most logical thing is to go back to the playground and wait this out. We'll be able to see the apartment and maybe gauge when it's safe to go back inside.

Although…Brian and Nicky might consider moving to Kentucky for a while, at least until Kevin chills out.

But…

"Maybe they'll fight and work things out." Howie says my thought as he knocks the ball away from Brian and dribbles it to the courts. I knew it was a stretch with me thinking that, but if Howie is this optimistic? We're screwed.

"I swear I didn't know she was there!" Nick says again with a sigh.

"Well…" Brian steals the ball from Howie and jogs ahead of him, "he was bound to get caught."

"But still…" Howie starts, blocking Brian's shot. Somehow we're involved in a game without even trying. "It sucks the way it happened."

"How else was it going to happen?" Brian asks, passing the ball to Nick. "He was gonna tell her? NOT!" And the ball glides easily through the net. "I feel bad for Kris, though," he continues, jogging after the ball.

"She was crying this morning," I say, letting Howie chase after the ball and attempt to make a shot. That gets a few groans of sympathy for her. "I feel kind of bad. I told her not to take it personally."

"She shouldn't," Brian says decisively. "He's the one who's screwing up..."

"Or around," Nick adds, taking the ball and missing.

"Well, if what we heard was right, she's not quite sitting home alone at night either," I say.

Howie gets the ball and bounces it over to me. I toss it back to him, blocking Brian. "Yeah, but which is worse?" Nick asks.

Good question, isn't it? I mean, Kev's got a point, doesn't he? He's not really promising those girls anything but that one night, right? He's not collecting numbers, or calling them afterwards. I used to know a few girls that did something like Kristin's doing. They have a boyfriend, and you like them, and hang out with them all the time, have a great time. They complain about their boyfriend and you think way in the back of your head 'I got a chance here…she'll break up with him and I'll have a chance…' Only, they never do, and they're shocked and amazed when you try to kiss them, or tell them that you want more than friendship. Don't girls know that their best guy friend always has a crush on them? That going out, alone, 'just hanging' is pretty much telling them they have a chance? Even if they know you have a boyfriend. Unless there's a ring there's always a chance.

"I hate when girls tell you they just need a friend and spend the whole time telling you how rotten their boyfriend is, or how much they miss him," Brian says with a shake of his head.

See? It's not just me.

"Yeah, but she's saying the same thing Kevin's saying, isn't she?" Nick looks at us, looking a bit confused. "He's saying one night only, and she's saying she's got a boyfriend. Right? If they're supposed to be taken at their word…what's the difference?"

"Shut up," Howie laughs, tossing the ball at him.

"What?" he asks, completely lost in confusion. "What'd I do now?"

"Nothing," Brian tells him, snatching the ball away, "you're making sense."

We hear a whistle and see Kevin standing out by his car. He lifts the keys and then gets in. "What does that mean?" Nick asks.

"Do we go over there?" I ask, looking at Brian and Howie. They live with him, maybe they understand him better. Our questions are answered when the car drives off without us. Okay, so I guess that was Kevin's 'all clear' signal.

But where's Kristin?

As we head back to the apartment, she comes out wearing sunglasses with her bag over her shoulder. "Bye, boys," she says quietly and just gets in her car. This did not end well I take it.
The only thing we know when we get back inside is that Kevin's gone to the gym. That's because there's a scrap of paper, with his handwriting that says 'gym' on it left on the counter. So we're assuming this is where he went. Which is a good thing because maybe he'll work out his anger on a barbell instead of a Brian or Nick when he gets back.

So much for getting into the studio today, right? Gary and Greg said they had enough to work on anyway when we call to check in. We could go without Kevin, but they said to take the day seeing as we've been working so much anyway. So, the rest of the day is ours. We decide to head to the community pool and chill out. This means we get to see Samantha in a bikini, and Brian be all gentlemanly with her. However, once he's in the pool, no one is safe and between the four of the guys we drink half the pool with being dunked and dragged underwater.

Once the sun goes down, Howie, Nick and I head back to the apartment and Brian and Samantha go off on their own. I think there were a few snickers about hiding the hickies this time before we left and a squeal of mortification from Sam. She's real sweet, actually, cute and blonde and totally wrapped up in Brian.

Kevin sort of left a message that he was with his friend Jimmy. There was a lot of loud music in the background. I'm not sure, but I think his accent was a lot thicker than usual, so I'm guessing he's blowing off more steam with a few drinks with his buddies. Not that I blame him, really. I'd want to do the same thing and avoid us too. We're just not sure how to take this. I've seen Kevin bitch and yell before, but I haven't seen him just disappear and go off…if this is any equivalent to disappearing and going off, that is. Last time he broke up with Kris, he just got all quiet and forgot a few dance steps. I didn't hear any yelling.

He's still not back when Brian gets back, and he and Nicky decide to head out to the mall. Brian assures us this isn't Kevin being pissed. We'd apparently know when Kevin goes off. "He's still forming full sentences," Brian says, listening to the message.

"So?" I ask.

"When he's pissed off, he don't form full sentences," he says with a shrug.

"But maybe this is some kind of new kind of pissed off," I suggest, stretching out on the couch and putting my feet up on the coffee table. "He was forming full sentences yelling at Kristin. You can't tell me that wasn't pissed off."

"He's blowing off steam," Brian says. "Just trust me, he's still forming full sentences and nothing's been broken." He lifts his hand and slices the air. "Kevin's still in his range of control. I wouldn't worry about it. He's just hangin' with his friends and blowing off some steam."

"If you say so," I sigh, not sure I really believe him. If that's Kevin still in control, point me to the state borders when he does lose it, okay? "When did you see him lose control then? I mean, what does it take?"

Brian merely picks up his keys and looks at me. "A lot. Let's just leave it at that.'

Now Howie's curious. "But have you actually seen him lose it?"

Brian sticks his hands in his pocket and looks at us. "Yeah." It's kind of hard to figure out what the expression is on his face, too. It's like he's ashamed to admit having seen it? Concerned because he did?

"So, going off on us on the bus before his appendix thing wasn't him being pissed off?" Nick asks, a little confused.

"Not losing it, no," Brian tells him. "When he loses it, he, like…loses it, fellas. He doesn't get complete sentences out. He just starts some kind of pissed off rambling and he punches, hits or throws whatever inanimate object is closest to him."

"Well, as long as it's an inanimate object and not a breathing animal," I say, trying to joke, but Brian barely smiles.

"I haven't seen him lose his composure on any one, no," he says. "He's been in fights an' all, but not when he's in that state. I think he's afraid of what he'd do if he hit a living thing when he's that worked up."

"Are you?" I question.

"Afraid of what he'd do? Yeah. He's pretty strong." Brian sits on the back of the couch now and his shoulders drop a bit. "After his dad died, he started seeing someone named Beth. They were supposed to get married, but that didn't work out. And…I don't know…one day after the engagement was called off it was like something just snapped. His brothers were home and I was there with my brother. We were just hanging out. He was pretty annoyed already with Jerry about something, but Jerry just said something and pushed him too far and I saw Kevin lose it. It was the one and only time I really saw it too. Tim, his other brother, said it didn't happen a lot, but I watched him and Jerry scream at each other for a while. And then Kevin couldn't even say anything. He'd start, but then start to say something else, and Jerry picked on him about it, and Kevin started off on something else. Next thing you know, Kev stormed out and on his way, he was kicking and punching walls, slamming doors. Don't know what he did to his room, but we heard shit being thrown against the walls and the door…and he kept screaming, but he couldn't say anything. Like his brain couldn't catch up or something." He looked at each of us, and I think we were all in a bit of shock. "Kev's got his limit, you know? It takes a real long time to get him over that limit…just don't be the one that pushes him over it. Jerry had to explain why he had a bruise on his cheek, and Kevin had to explain a black eye at the end of the day and Jerry was the one that apologized first. He told us that he knew he shouldn't have pushed, but did it anyway."

You kind of expect that from a kid or a teenager, don't you? "He's always the mature one around us. Isn't that…I don't know…childish to throw a temper tantrum?"

Brian looks at us, and this time there's a warning his eyes. "I'm just telling y'all that Kev's got a temper and we haven't seen it…at all."

"Shit," Nick says. "And all this time when he yelled at me I thought that was him being mad. You mean to tell me I haven't seen him mad?"

"You haven't seen him lose control," Brian clarifies. "And you don't want to be the one that makes him do it. That's what I'm saying."

Well, that was a pretty enlightening detail about Kev, wasn't it? Since Brian and Nick left, Howie and I have just been chilling out and watching TV, and I keep considering our moods. If it takes so much for Kev to lose control, that's pretty good. Considering Nicky can fly off and punch someone if they look at him the wrong way, there's just no rationality there when he's annoyed. I try to be rational, but if I'm pissed off, I bitch and yell so that everyone knows I'm pissed off. I don't think I'm not rational, I just think that at some point, I'm right and don't hear anything against that. I just want to be right. Howie and Brian are pretty much directly in the middle of Kevin and Nick. I can't say I haven't seen them get pissed off, but they get pissed off and it's over. If it takes a lot for Kev to get that pissed off that he stops thinking, that means that even if he is angry, he's still rational enough to weigh the situation, right? I think that's pretty good. And it explains why he always seems to have control of a situation - because he does. He doesn't lose it apparently.

October 1996

Kevin

At least we can understand the language here in Australia. We couldn't figure out anything when we were over in Japan, and those fans were insane. Germany got us a platinum album. We're climbing the charts steadily in England. Canada's next on the bill, and we all have a pretty good feeling that they're going to follow suit with Germany. It's just America that's still deaf to us.

I keep considering our success like the Domino Theory. One by one we'll break down the barriers, right? And we're getting an amazing opportunity to see the world. I know I never really considered actually ever going to the Far East and Australia, much less finding people there that would know all the triviata there is to know about us; favorite food, shoe size, color….

As I sip my water, I realize just how bizarre this whole thing is. It is. It's just bizarre. Sometimes I feel like I'm caught up in some strange game. On one side we've got what I consider the industry. The more I talk to them, the more bullshit I'm fed. The more we can't do any wrong. We're adored, but we're given a specific list of do's and don'ts, and so many of the don'ts are just stupid. No facial hair. We're five guys, exhausted, flying around the world, but we can't sleep those extra five minutes because we can't have stubble. We have to be groomed, and clean-shaven for some kind of image they're attempting to build for us. We're supposed to be streetwise, but sweet and innocent all at once. No girlfriend, even if we have them…although the only one that does at the moment is Brian. We don't drink, or do any drugs…but if you check our bill when we check out, someone's mini-bar is usually empty. (That would be AJ, by the way.)

It's living two separate lives: Reality and Industry. Right now, we're in a different realm: press, a press conference, to be exact. We're in front of two tables with our names in front of us and I don't even know how many reporters, or cameras.

"Well, I know we're not in America. Y'all have some really funny accents," Brian says into his mike with a laugh.

"G'day…g'day," Nick says into his.

"No, no…goodonion. What the heck is goodonion?" AJ asks with a laugh.

"Good. On. Ya," I say slowly, looking down the line to AJ with a smile and shake of my head. "It means good job, dawg."

We're at least amusing them. To them, we're just a bunch of nice, polite boys from America enjoying their country's wonderful hospitality and culture. We'd never be able to afford this kind of life otherwise. And that's what I keep telling the fellas. We really need to appreciate every chance we're given…big and small. Seeing all these places, meeting all these people…it's an honor we really need to understand and appreciate. Like last week, Brian got quite a religious education when we visited a few of those exotic Temples. There was such tranquility there, more so than any church I've ever been in. And a respect for religion that I'd never seen before.

Pretty dang amazing.

Then again, so were some of the bikinis I saw this afternoon during our photo shoot. We got to play on the beach, basically - body surfing, tanning, some regular surfing. It was the first time in a long time that it didn't feel like work. We just did what we'd do on a day off if we ever got one, except there was a photographer taking pictures of it. Some kind of layout for a teen mag of a winter break? I don't know…I just know I was in the water most of the day. Brian's got a bit of sunburn on his face and shoulders. Nicky's arms are a bit red, a farmer's tan because he's not allowed to have his picture taken without his chest covered.

Sure, it's okay for us to make a video with us wet, clothes sticking to us, the rest of us with our shirts open or off…me having a huge erection…but it's sacrilege to show a 16 year olds chest when he's hanging out on a beach. That's Jane, Nick's ma more than management, but still. I was basically laughed out of Johnny's office, our manager, when I went in to complain about it. The price we have to pay for fame, he told me. Besides, it was a pretty decent sized erection, what was I embarrassed about? After he said that, I just left. There was no way I was going to argue my point if the size of my erection was considered something that was going to help get a video aired. So much for our vocal abilities, huh? The whole damn video makes me cringe, but do we have a say about it? It's not their faces on the TV screen, what do they care how we feel about the way we look? That this is our 'clean cut image'… No facial hair, but erections and abs are just fine! I don't get it, but I'm told I'm not supposed to. My job is to shut up and do as I'm told.

I'm starting to feel like we're becoming Lou's Trained Monkey Troupe. Dance, boys! Sing, boys! Laugh, boys! Hut to it, boys! Stand up, boys! Charm, boys! Smile for the cameras, boys! Wake up, boys! I'm dropping a dime…perform! Perform!

Dang, I'm tired…

~

I wouldn't mind going out, but we've been given strict orders not to leave the hotel due to security reasons. Afraid of what might happen to us if we go out, and that's a little freaky to think about. Actually, it's more for the security of the fans than us. We've actually got bodyguards to make sure we're safe, but there are little ones out there that could just get crushed. And none of us want to be responsible for that kind of injury. So, we'll get to know the inside of the hotel really well tonight. We at least have access to the hotel gym and spa whenever we want, so I think a quick workout is in order to just pass some time, maybe make me a little tired.

Just as I approach the door I hear it: hushed giggling and shushing. I wait a second, listening at the door and then open it, sticking my head out and scaring the crap out of two girls. They stop dead in their tracks, their eyes widen and one of them covers her mouth with her hands and gasps.

"Kevin! You're Kevin!" the brunette one says.

"Last time I checked, yeah," I answer, having to smile at the reaction.

"Oh my God, we've been fans forever!" the shorter brunette says.

"Fo-aye-va?" I mimic her accent, winking at her. Then the door across the hall opens and Howie sticks his head out, and they squeal again.

"What'd you got there, Kev?" he asks.

"I can't stand the accents!" the short one says excitedly.

"They've been fans fo-aye-va, Howie," I say.

"Good to know," Howie says, adding a wink with his smile. "How'd you get up here, though?"

They look at each other, a little fearful. "We're so sorry," the taller one says. "But we've been following you since Melbourne and we have to go home tomorrow, so we just had to try and meet you or we'd never forgive ourselves."

"We borrowed the keys from a chamber maid," the other confesses.

"Did you? Does she know?" I ask.

"Um," they look at each other and blush, "no."

"Sneaky, sneaky," Howie scolds, stepping into the hallway. He looks at them and then to me. "So, what do you think, Kev? Brian and Nick?" The girls stifle a squeal, but correct us. "Brian and AJ."

"Ah…" I laugh. "I should have known. You're holding sunglasses at nine at night."

"That doesn't mean we don't fancy you two, though."

Howie pats her shoulder. "We understand." With another wink to them, he glances over to me. "I'll go see if they're around." There's more stifled squeals and they grab each other's hands.


AJ

Oh, happy, joy, joy…I get to go make nice to more fans… Damn, that doesn't sound good, does it? But, really…I've spent the whole day being nice to people. We've been busy since six this morning and I just got out of the shower, hoping I'd be able to chill out. Now, there are some stray fans roaming the hallways and I have to go be nice to them. I will be nice to them because I know it took a lot of work to get up here, but still…I'm allowed to be tired, aren't I? I'm allowed to want some downtime, right?

I can hear laughter coming from Kevin's room, and the rest of the fellas are in there making introductions. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and turn into the room with a wide smile. "This is a raid!" I call out and as soon as the tall brunette sees me, she squeals.

"She's a you fan," Howie says with a laugh as I walk over to her.

"I like me fans," I answer him. "Hi."

"Oh my God…Oh my God!" The poor thing is shaking, totally flustered. She reaches out to touch me, then pulls back, then reaches back out. "Oh my God!" I smile and wrap my arms around her shoulders, giving her a hug and I'm pretty sure she squeaks. "I can't believe it's you!" She clings to me, still shaking. I'm almost afraid to let go.

"It's me," I say gently. "It's okay…just take a deep breath." I pull back slightly, still holding onto each elbow and look at her with a smile. "Breathe…" I can hear a ragged breath and she looks like she's in total shock. "Okay?" She nods, swallowing heavily. "You're sure? Like, if I let go, you're not going to fall down or anything, are you?" She shakes her head and I release her slowly. "What's your name?"

"She's Lucy," Brian says, his arm wrapped around the other girls shoulder, "and this is Cody."

I reach over and extend my hand to Lucy politely. "Hi, Luce." I turn back to Cody and smile. "So, do you have something for me to sign, baby?" With her hands still shaking, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a teen magazine opened to my picture. "Oh, good picture!"

"I love that one," she says shaking her head slowly. "You have the best smile."

"Well, thank you." It's not hard being nice, you know? Just looking at her I can see how excited she is by just me being nice, and it's hard not to feel flattered, and want to be nice. You want to be the guy they see you as, hope that you can live up to the expectations they have of you…to a degree. I don't think anyone can live up to pedestal they're put on, but the least I can do is try, right?

I motion for her to sit down, and sit next to her, holding her hand lightly. She's got another five minutes, and then I am excusing myself. I just want to lie on my bed, blasting my walkman and have a beer, and not have to be nice, or polite, or innocent, or think. I am so fucking tired.

"…and we were right up front. Did you see me? I thought for sure at one point you looked right at me," Cody's saying.

Did I see her? She's got to be kidding, right? But when I look at her, she looks so hopeful, I really can't break her heart. "Right up front? Yeah…I saw you." Okay, have I done my good deed for the day? Can I leave now?

Chapter 1: 1993

Chapter 2: 1994

Chapter 3: 1995