Part 1
JOURNAL ENTRY - SEPT 17TH, 2002
It's
getting late, for scribbling and scratching on the paper.
Something's gonna give under this pressure,
and the cracks are already beginning to show,
It's too late.
The weekend career girl never boarded the plane.
They said this could never happen again.
Oh, so wrong, so wrong.
This time it seems to be another misplaced rendezvous.
This time, it's looking like another misplaced rendezvous,
With you. The parallel of you. You.
That's the song playing right now. Marillion. Misplaced Childhood.
Expensive CD, but...what the hell? I waited ten years for it. But this
song...how appropriate it seems.
God, but what is time? The date. It's ironic, you know? Three years ago today I saw them perform for the first time. And now...
Maybe I should backpedal a little. Go past the last incredible seventy two hours...the most wonderful seventy two hours of my life...to a week ago.
My agent called. Here's another irony. Her name, get this, is Catrina, but she likes to be called Trina. I used that name for an agent for my lead in one of my fics, once. I guess sometimes life just mirrors fan fiction, huh?
Anyway, Trina called, and told me that someone wanted to meet me. That's nothing new. Publishing a novel under a psuedonym always brings out people who have to meet the real author. I tried telling her that I wasn't interested, but she insisted. "You want to meet them," she said.
"Meet who?" I asked, curious in spite of myself.
"The Backstreet Boys," she casually replied, knowing what a bomb she was dropping.
The Backstreet Boys. How many fan fics had I written? Three years worth? The Backstreet Boys. My God, I thought.
"So, are you coming?" she asked.
"Damn straight!" I replied.
So, Trina gave me the wheres and all, set up my hotel suite at the Carlton. Love that place. It's where she set me up last time I was there. Anyway, we get to the big day, and I'm a bundle of nerves. I kept asking her why they wanted to meet me, and she said she wasn't sure. She thought it had something to do with the thank yous I had put in my book.
By the way, the novel was my first. Never published anything before, and, well, I sorta thanked lots of people. One of them went like this: To Kevin, Alex, Brian, Howie, and Nick for giving me back my words. I love you guys! Maybe they figured it out that it was them. I didn't know. Didn't really care either. I was going to meet the Backstreet Boys!
Sure, I'd met Alex that one night. His birthday. After the Johnny Suede concert. But I didn't really get to talk to him...spend time with him.
So...here we are at Trina's office. I'm sitting there, actually chatting with her about the follow up novel to my first. It's going to be a trilogy, and the publisher signed a two year/four book contract. Almost there, huh?
Anyway. The office. I remember that the clock had just struck one, and then Jackie, Trina's secretary, poked her head in the door. "They're here," was all she said before stepping back.
Kevin walked in first. That didn't surprise me. He's the leader, after all. Then Brian. Nick followed Brian. Howie came next, and bringing up the rear...Alex.
I tried to act nonchalant. Like I did shit like this everyday. Forget the fact that my heart was pounding like a bass drum, so loud I was sure they had to hear it. Forget the fact that I practically devoured Alex with my eyes...not meaning to, of course, but...damn. I couldn't resist. He wore jeans. Casual, very casual...and a dark blue shirt with a white beater beneath it. His hair was dark, again, but there were blond streaks. Kinda like when he had those red highlights for the Coming Home concert. He wore his signature sunglasses, but they were pushed down, so he met my gaze over the lenses.
I think I forgot to breathe. I vaguely remember Trina making introductions, then my hand was in Alex's. He turned it so he, first, placed a quick kiss on my knuckles then turned my hand over to place a soft kiss on my palm. When he let go, I couldn't help but curl my hand around, as if to hold that kiss. His dark eyes never left mine.
*sigh*
Anyway...Kevin did the talking at first. He mentioned that it was Nick and Alex who had read the book first, and actually, it was Alex who had figured out that the thank you was for them.
Didn't surprise me. I always knew that Alex had a brain. He just mostly forgot to use it.
We talked. God how we talked. About music. About my book. About why I chose a psuedonym. About my kids, and how I was divorced. Trina threw that in. I kept my mouth shut. After all, the only Backstreet Boy I wanted was engaged. Amidst all this, Trina mentioned my website. I had to have blushed. I know I felt my cheeks heat. Trina obligingly used her PC to boot up my site. Once there, Nick and Alex admitted that, yeah, they'd been there before.
How many shades of red can a person turn? I'm not sure, but I'm pretty positive that I must have covered them all.
I thought about all the visuals, slash and het alike. All the fics. How many times had I hinted at sexual alliances among the Boys themselves? Alex and Howie. Alex and Nick. Alex and Kevin. Kevin and Nick. How many times had I abused Alex's girlfriends and, lately, his fiancee? I killed Sarah off at least once. Made Amanda into a bisexual psychotic killer.
All the sex scenes. How many times...how many ways...had I made love to Alex through my stories?
I just smiled, though. What else could I do? Alex grinned at me, and I found the floor very interesting indeed. Persian carpet. Must have cost the agency a fortune.
"Would you like to join us at TRL today?" Alex had asked. "We're premiering a new video."
I nodded. "Sure," I admitted, shocked at how steady my voice sounded, "I'd love to."
So off we were to Mtv Studios and TRL.
There were two limos. Kevin, Brian, and Howie took one. I sat between Alex and Nick in the other.
Note to self: visual idea...threesome...yes, I did that before, but...bears another jaunt...especially now.
Where
was I? Oh, yes...I was the filling in an Alex and Nick sandwich as we slalomed
through early afternoon traffic in
The
trip didn't take long...and wasn't long enough. I remember thinking about
asking Alex to come to my hotel room later, after the concert. They had to perform
that evening. They were doing shows the following two nights as well, so they'd
be in
That much I remember hearing mentioned in the limo. That, and an invitation to the concert that night. Would I like to see the show from backstage? Alex asked me.
"Is
At TRL, they made me meet Carson Daly. He was alright, I guess. He looks taller on TV. Kevin admitted who I was, and I asked Carson to keep it quiet. He did, so I guess he's okay.
Or, at least, I wouldn't have minded him so much if he hadn't mentioned Alex's engagement to Sarah, and the planned wedding date of Valentine's Day. After that, well, I could have strangled him.
Didn't want to think about Sarah. That Alex wasn't mine. Couldn't be mine. But, God, I wished he could be!
Watched the vid. It was...hot. Lots of water...wet Boys.
Oh, and the music was good, too. Alex offered me a tape.
Good thing, too. I don't think Chrissie would have managed to tape it for me. Sean couldn't care less, so...well, it was a good thing.
That night, the Boys played the Garden...Madison Square Garden. Larger crowd than N'Stink ever mananged.
That sound you hear is my gleeful laughter. So glad that N'Stink finally broke up.
Anyway...after the show, around 1 AM, we wound up at the Carlton. It appears that the Boys were staying there as well. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not. In any case, I've long since learned not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Thinking that now we would part ways, I turned to Alex. In spite of all the heated glances we'd exchanged, and all the casual and not so casual brushes against each other, well, I knew that this was it. As I opened my mouth to say goodbye, he invited me to his room.
After I picked my jaw up off the floor, he added that Nick would be there, too. They both wanted to talk to me for awhile longer.
As I followed Alex to the elevator, I thought...now what could Alex and Nick have to talk to me about?
Well, Journal, you're going to have to wait a bit for the answer. I need another cup of chamomile. My nerves are still wired.
Back in a few...