Chapter 41:
Breaking Down
"Okay, explain to me again why
you have to exercise instead of coming with us to the movies?"
Brian sighed as he laced up his shoes,
keeping his face down. It was gonna be hard enough to do what he had to do;
looking up at Nick’s confused face would make it impossible. Nick had been
hounding him all morning with this, excited that the group had not been
scheduled for any planned PR. The latest Harrison Ford movie was out and Nick,
along with the others, were dying to go see it.
"I mean, jeez, Frick, it’s not like
you don’t get any. We’re gonna sweat our asses off tonight."
"Nick, it’s something I need to do,
okay? Just because my heart is fixed, doesn’t mean I can ignore my
health." Brian took a deep breath. "You could stand to lose a few, ya
know. No one likes looking at a fat Backstreet Boy." Brian’s hands shook
as he tied the last knot, his stomach twisted as tight as his shoestrings. He
forced himself to look up at Nick.
Nick looked slightly taken aback, as if he
hadn’t heard his friend correctly, but it quickly sunk in, and an angry look
appeared on his young face. Nick pushed himself off Brian’s bed, standing.
"Yeah, well screw you. Have you taken
a close look at yourself lately? No one likes an anorexic Backstreet Boy
either." Nick marched to the door, but paused for one last parting shot.
"Guess I’ll tell the guys whose company you like better."
Brian closed his eyes for a moment,
hearing Nick’s comment along with the slamming of his hotel door. He steeled
himself, knowing this had to happen, knowing if he didn’t start distancing
himself with the group, Xavier would. And Xavier would most likely start with
Nick. Last night Brian had tossed and turned in his bed, not sleeping well,
trying to analyze the "game" when he realized with a sickening clarity
that Nick was the last remaining Backstreet Boy not to have fallen prey to one
of Xavier’s twisted little tricks. Brian reached over to his duffel bag,
shoving some things in. He zipped the bag and stood up, slinging it around his
shoulder, grim determination etched tightly into his face. He couldn’t stop the
breakup of the group, but he was damned if he was going let Xavier get to Nick.
* * * * * * *
Brian jogged next to Xavier, grateful for
the silence as he concentrated on his running. It was getting easier, although
not much, considering the bodyguard varied the lengths and intensity at a whim.
Brian watched, interested, at the other joggers who came past; some, startled
from their run, had recognized him instantly. Brian knew, with out a doubt, that
Xavier wouldn’t tolerate any fan stopping them for an autograph. He wondered
what the bodyguard would do if it happened. Not willing to find out, he ignored
the excited greetings, keeping his face expressionless at the smiles cast his
way, thinking instead about what he had said to Nick, ashamed of his comments,
but knowing with certainty that crueler things would have to be said in order
to keep Nick away from him and the volatile Xavier.
Xavier tapped him on the shoulder,
pointing toward a building across the street. Confused, but obedient, Brian
followed him across the road, coming to stop in front of what looked like a
bank. He glanced up with a questioning look at the sweating bodyguard.
"Yeah, what?"
Brian watched as a well-tanned face grin
back at him. "Forgot so soon? You owe me some money, remember?"
Brian stared at him in disbelief.
"Now?" he panted, "here?"
Xavier nodded, shoving a small, dark-green
nylon bag at him. Brian had seen Xavier sling it over his back before the run,
not knowing what it meant. Now he did. He reached out slowly, fingering the
zipper. "Xavier, this is ridiculous. I’ll just write you a check." He
watched as the bodyguard shook his head, his eyes unreadable behind the
polarized sunglasses he was wearing. Brian sighed, motioning with an
exaggerated gesture for Xavier to follow him into the bank. Again the bodyguard
shook his head and Brian understood why. Cameras. He pulled the door open and
entered the coolness of the interior, curious and mentally noting to himself to
mull that one over later. It had been awhile since he had been in a bank,
usually the ATM, his credit card, or management could get what he needed.
Uncomfortable, he waited patiently in line, realizing he must look like a mess.
"Next!"
Brian stepped up to the counter, clearing
his throat. "Uh, I need to make a withdrawal." The teller, a small
dark-haired girl in her twenties nodded, her head pointed down as she filed
away some previous paperwork. Finishing her task, she looked up and Brian held his
breath, waiting to be recognized. She gave him an impatient look.
"ID?" she asked. Brian gave a little sigh of relief and handed her
his ID along with his account number. "How much?" she questioned,
looking at his ID and punching his number in.
"Ten thousand dollars."
He watched as her as she skeptically eyed
his appearance, frowning ever so slightly as she waited for his account number
to be verified. Brian had to smile as she coughed then tried to regain her
composure as the computer screen confirmed the amount in his account.
"Uh, yes, Mr. Littrell, there should
be no problem. Cashier’s check?"
"No, cash."
Startled, she looked confused.
"Cash?"
Brian nodded, glancing to see if he could
see Xavier waiting outside.
"Surely you would rather have
traveler’s checks?" she asked helpfully.
"No, cash please."
"Are you sure?" She looked
around for her supervisor.
Brian noticed Xavier pacing impatiently
outside and becoming uneasy with the whole situation, decided to end it
quickly. "Yes, cash!" he said, rather curtly. "What’s the
matter? It may be half of your year’s salary, but it’s a drop in the bucket to
me. Now, are you gonna give it to me, or do I have to cancel my whole fucking
account with you guys?"
The pretty teller, stung by his insult,
snapped back into a cold professional manner. "There should be no problem,
sir. I just don’t have that much in my box. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right
back." She closed her open teller box and locked it, walking over to her
boss. Brian waited impatiently, eager to be done, eager to get the hell out,
embarrassed by the way he had insulted her to get quick results. He could hear
whispering customers behind him, other tellers trying to look nonchalant and he
groaned inwardly, hoping his teller would hurry up.
A tall, very thin woman came up to the
teller window, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. She smiled
warmly at Brian and he read her name tag, Meg Williamson, VP of Finance. Brian
bit his lip, annoyed that the dark-haired teller had left. "Mr. Littrell,
how can I be of service?"
"You can start by giving me my damn
money, right now," Brian hissed.
"And you want it all in
cash?"
Brian shoved the small nylon bag towards
her. "Yes," he said irritated. God, what if Xavier had wanted
more?
"What denomination? Thousands,
hundreds, less?"
Brian sighed, gritting his teeth. Why was
this so hard? He felt his composure deteriorating. "No, pennies!" he
snapped. He decided on another tactic. He leaned forward, indicating with his
finger for the VP to come nearer. "Do you know who I am?" he asked
quietly, hating the way it sounded.
The VP hated it too. She leaned forward,
her mouth set in a thin line. "Yes, I’d be an idiot not to know."
Brian gave her a sarcastic grin.
"Good. Then you know I don’t have time for this. Please give me my money,
right now. I don’t care what denomination, so long as I can carry it easily in
this bag. Got it?"
"Yes, sir." Brian heard
the sarcasm drip from her voice, knowing he deserved it, but not really caring
at this point. He strummed his fingers, sure she was counting the money back to
him as slow as she could possibly manage it. Finally finishing, she carefully
placed it in the now full bag. She handed the bag to him, a fake smile
plastered on her face. "I suggest you be careful with that. Someone might
steal it."
Brian nearly ripped it from her hand.
"Someone already has," he answered angrily, not noticing her puzzled
look as he headed out the door.
* * * * *
Leaning against the elevator wall, trying
to wipe his sweating face and neck with his sweat-soaked T-shirt Brian stared
dismally at the wrapped power bar in his hand. Slowly he ripped the package
open and took a disinterested bite of the bar that Xavier had ordered him to
eat, noticing the mud-like consistency of it. Grimacing, he slowly swallowed,
wishing he could spit it out, but this was breakfast and lunch combined and he
knew better than to throw it away. He took another bite, wearily closing his
eyes, way beyond tired. The ding of the elevator forced his eyes open, and he
jumped, startled by the loud laughter coming from Nick, AJ, Kevin and Howie as
they all rushed in, struggling to be first.
‘Whoa!" yelled AJ, surprised to see
Brian slouched in the corner. The others fell silent as they too entered, Nick
pointedly avoiding direct eye contact.
"Hey," acknowledged Brian,
giving Howie a smile when he saw him. "How are you?"
Howie shrugged. "Alright, considering
I lost everything. Glad I got good insurance. They’re covering
everything."
Brian nodded. "Great." He wished
he could say more, apologize, but he held back, biting his tongue. "How
was the movie?"
Nick spoke up, bitterness in his voice.
"Don’t wanna say. Might spoil it for you and Xavier."
Kevin elbowed Nick in the side. "Quit
it," he ordered. He eyed his cousin, concern in his look. "What’s up,
Bri? Nick said you had to go exercise with Xavier."
Here we go, thought Brian, not ready, not willing to battle
now, but not having a choice. He sighed loudly. "Nick lied. I didn’t have
to go exercise with Xavier, I wanted to."
"What?" He heard the disbelief
in AJ’s and Howie’s voice.
"Jeez, just because someone here wants
to look good, to stay in shape, y’all get bent."
"Hey, for your information, you don’t
look that hot," replied Nick, unable to keep silent.
"Better than you’ll ever be,"
shot back Brian.
"Hold on!" roared Kevin, giving
Brian and Nick a glare. "Hold on. If Brian feels the need to exercise, let
him," he advised Nick. He turned to give his cousin a glance. "But, I
really don’t see why you need to," he commented. ‘Honestly Bri, you don’t
look all that great ."
Brian swiped at his brow, still sweating.
"Oh, so now we’re interested in someone’s looks other than yourself?"
he shot back, annoyed. "That’s a first. I’m surprised you can tear
yourself away from the mirror."
Kevin froze, along with the other three at
Brian’s remark, Howie giving AJ a sidelong glance.
"Whoa, totally uncalled for,
Bri," AJ commented. "Kevin’s only stating what’s true."
"Really," Brian sneered.
"Maybe you should check yourself out. Last time I looked, freaky tattoos
and frizzy colored hair looked good only in National Geographic."
A bitter look of resentment sprang from
AJ’s eyes and he reached out to grab Brian by his shirt. Howie and Kevin
blocked his way, holding him back. The small elevator felt suffocating and
Brian choked down a feeling of panic. He thought he could manage this, could
cope with all four standing there, but now he knew he couldn’t. His friends’
concern mixed with their confused anger at him was too much for Brian to handle
all at once. He heard the door ring open, gladly jumped out, heading down the
hall to his room.
"Brian!"
He heard his name shouted, but he didn’t
stop, ignoring Kevin. "Brian, you’d better be ready for tonight!" his
cousin warned threateningly. Brian didn’t turn around, only replying to Kevin’s
demand with a well-placed middle finger raised high above his head
***
