Chapter 52:
Contemplation
Kevin flopped face down onto his bed, too
drained to do anything but grab a pillow and bury his face in it. He hoped to
squash the memory of the past hours, especially the one of Brian standing in
the hotel hallway, panic-stricken. He had looked overwhelmed, distraught, as if
disaster had already struck. Worried, he thought to call out to his cousin, but
stopped as his eyes fell on Brian's newly cast hand. The sting of Brian's
betrayal became painfully fresh and his resentment quickly replaced his concern
as he brushed by him, silent.
With a snarl, he threw his pillow across
the room in anger. Glancing at his phone, he saw the red blinking light,
indicating voice mail. He didn't feel like talking to anyone, especially his
family. When they found out, and they would soon enough, all hell would break
loose. He sighed, closing his eyes. He had argued with the other guys tonight,
wanting to confront Brian on why he wanted to quit, but they all shot
his idea down, feeling that what he did was explanation enough. He thoughts
turned to next month, when the tour took a week hiatus for the upcoming
holiday. Maybe on the flight home, if he was on talking terms with
Brian, he could discover what made his cousin do what he did.
* * * * *
Howie closed his door, then locked it,
tossing his entry card next to his telephone. He felt the urge to pick up the
phone and call AJ, but having already spent most of the night discussing Brian,
AJ would have been pissed at him trying to rehash everything. Of the four, only
Howie was the one who thought it was best that Brian left; it wasn't until
after considerable pressure put on him by the other three that he gave in,
agreeing to their decision to force Brian to stay with the group.
He walked into the bathroom and turned the
shower on full force. Through a mist of steam he stripped then eased himself
into the blasting spray, hoping the pulsating heat would sooth his frayed
nerves. Never in a million years would he have thought what he witnessed
tonight would actually happen. Equally surprising was Xavier. After missing
their bus, Xavier had quickly managed to get all four safely out of the arena
and with deceptive ease. He then chauffeured them around, taking them to the
most secluded bar he could find so that the guys could talk undisturbed. When
they had asked Xavier to join them, he seemed hesitant, almost uneasy about
discussing Brian. He had expressed a desire to transfer, not willing to
bodyguard Brian anymore. After much pleading they had persuaded him to stay,
agreeing readily to his stipulations. Howie knew AJ's feelings regarding
Xavier, so he was pleasantly surprised when he had to only kick AJ a couple of
times under the table to agree.
He shut the water off, sighing as he
toweled himself dry and crawling wearily into bed, wondering if the other guys
were just as exhausted. His mind flashed back to Brian, standing isolated in
the hall as they warily passed by him. For a moment he felt a twinge of guilt,
then shook his head in exasperation. If it weren't for him, none of this would
be happening. Priorities, he had to remind himself. Band first, Brian last.
* * * * *
Not caring to see if the door shut, AJ
marched over to his well-stocked refrigerator, pulling every small bottle out
that even remotely looked alcoholic. He was determined to get rip-roaring
drunk, having been unable to do so at the sleazy bar Xavier had taken them to
because the guys "wanted to talk." What was there to talk
about, anyway? Brian had tried to screw them over, but good, and if it wasn't
for him, might have. Ripping the cap off the tiny bottle, AJ gave
himself a congratulatory gulp, threw the empty down, then knocked back another.
As the bitter liquid flamed down his throat he relaxed for the first time
tonight. He struggled to kick off his shoes, eyeing the telephone. He wondered
if he should call Howie but shrugged it off. It was late, and his friend would
probably kill him, knowing he wanted to go over the night's events again.
He slumped into an easy chair, punching
the TV remote. As it flared to life AJ sat back, staring blankly at the screen
before him. What a fucked day. What a fucked tour. Fuck. He liked the
word, always had, and now everything seemed to express his feelings in one
simple, sweet word. AJ opened his third bottle, eyeing it moodily, then took a
hefty sip. Xavier. Now that was something. His change of
allegiance was startling to say the least, and he didn't buy it for a minute,
even if the other guys did. He only went along because at the time he didn't
care, agreeing to anything just so Howie would quit kicking him. Now he wasn't
so sure. He squinted at the time displayed on the TV, sighing with resignation.
Should he call it quits and get some sleep, or should he finish the rest of the
bottles? Deciding on one more drink, he tossed it down quickly then gratefully
climbed into the warm comfort of his bed. I hope Brian sleeps as well as I
will tonight, he thought spitefully, remembering the pained expression on
Brian's face as they uncomfortably crossed paths in the hallway.
* * * * *
Nick stood in the middle of his room, at a
loss. His body felt numb, his mind a mess of jumbled emotions, the most
noticeable being the hostility he experienced when he saw Brian in the hallway.
Somehow he didn't expect to run into him, and when he did, a flood of
resentment coursed through his body. It was enough to make him want to punch
Brian on the spot, the only thing stopping him was noticing the white cast
encircling Brian's wrist. He didn't feel a twinge of regret, in fact he hoped
it hurt like hell and made a point to say so as he strode past him. Now,
looking at his phone he felt an impulsive urge to call Brian, to wish him a
sarcastic goodnight. He thought the better of it, knowing it would just stir up
more bitterness in him. And it looked like he was gonna have enough to last the
whole tour. He eyed his bed suspiciously, wondering if he could relax enough to
sleep. He knew he should take a hot shower, try to clean up, but he couldn't
force himself to expend the energy. Flopping down on his bed, he grabbed the
edge of the bedspread and pulled it over him, not bothering to undress. Why
should he? He had a feeling it was going to be a long, sleepless night.
* * * * * *
The instant as he reached the confines of
his room, Brian fished the medication out of his pocket, unsteadily opening the
cap. Shaking two Tylenol with codeine out, he grabbed a courtesy cup in the
bathroom and quickly swallowed them, praying the pain reliever would work soon.
He looked into the mirror, despising what he saw. Once confident, happy and
content, the face that stared back at him reflected only an empty, depressed,
and frustrated young man. Brian went over to the side of his bed and sat down
carefully, cringing as the codeine hit his empty stomach, trying to keep his
mind off the cramps as he waited for the pain to lessen. He felt the sharp poke
of the switchblade and dug the knife out of his pocket, staring at it bleakly.
He berated himself for not having the guts to kill Xavier outright, the defeat
so bitter he could still taste it. He knew, as had Xavier, that it was
impossible, and so the test had been another one of Xavier's little ways of
showing who was in control.
Brian's mouth turned into a sour smile.
Tests, games, control…all these things he had competed so hard against Xavier,
yet achieving only small victories as he was outmaneuvered at every turn. But
if Xavier had one flaw, and he did, it was that he underestimated him. I may
not have control of the game, but I'm still playing. Years of hard work,
ambition, and persistence had molded him into the person he was now, and no way
was he ready to give it up, not even against likes of Xavier. I'm alive, I'm
still here, he reassured himself grimly. If I go down,
I'll go down kicking.
Brian relaxed a little as the painkiller
began to ease the ache. He examined his hand curiously. Having never broken his
wrist before, he wondered idly how much trouble it was going to give him during
the upcoming concerts. That's the least of your worries, Littrell! How are
you going to handle the rest of the tour with four guys who hate your guts?
He hoped Howie and Kevin might come around sooner or later and forgive him, but
he could pretty much write off ever being friends with AJ or Nick again. Nick.
Brian felt a sharp stab of regret as he realized he would never regain the
trust of his friend. Of all the things he had suffered, the loss of Nick's
friendship would be the hardest to cope with. I'll be okay, he thought, just
as long as Xavier stays away from him.
Xavier! Brian bolted off his bed like a shot. Xavier
was the on call bodyguard for tonight! It would be just like Xavier to do
something this night, considering the state he was in. He bit his lower lip
in consternation, wondering how to protect Nick. Knowing Nick was in his room,
probably asleep, did nothing to alleviate his fear. Xavier still had access to
everyone's room, including Nick's. Grabbing a single pillow from his bed, Brian
headed down the quiet hallway towards Nick's door and gently eased himself to
the floor, taking care not to jar his wrist. He wondered just how idiotic he
looked, sitting cross-legged on the floor, waiting, not a soul in sight. He
felt for the reassuring comfort of the switchblade in his pocket. Good.
With a huge yawn he stretched, then adjusted his pillow. Don't get too
comfortable, he warned himself.
* * * * * *
If his sleep was any indication of how his
day was going to be, then he was in deep trouble. Nick sighed irritably,
glancing at his digital clock for perhaps the hundredth time.
Nick inhaled sharply, too stunned to do
anything but stare. A painful rush of fear surged through his body as he bent
to inspect Brian, sure that he was dead. Nick heaved a sigh of relief as he
realized Brian was asleep, curled sideways on the carpeted floor, a pillow
supporting his busted wrist. Shaking his head in disbelief, Nick knelt down on
one knee to give him a shake but stopped when he noticed a slim object glinting
on the floor, inches from Brian's right hand. He picked up the metal object,
holding it closer for a better look as he turned it over and over in his hand.
Bewilderment turned into shock as he carefully flicked the switchblade open,
eyes glued to its razor sharpness. Nick slowly stood up, shaking, as his mind raced
furiously for an explanation. He couldn't believe what he was thinking, yet
here Brian was, camped outside his door, obviously waiting for him with a
switchblade! What the…? Uneasy, Nick snapped the blade shut and
carefully stepped away from the sleeping form, trying not to make a sound as he
hurried down the hallway and turned the corner. Hurry! His mind raced,
frantically wondering who he could tell. His decision was made as he saw AJ's
door ajar and he rushed in, searching around. The room was empty. Distressed,
he turned to leave, only to hear AJ coming out of the bathroom, rubbing his wet
hair with a towel.
"Hey!" yelled AJ, startled by
Nick's unexpected appearance. "How'd you get in?"
"Your door was open again; you gotta
remember to shut it, Bone!" Nick yelled, chewing him out.
"Okay, okay!" AJ looked
Nick up and down, giving him a frown. "What's your problem? Can't sleep
either?"
Nick rushed up to AJ, grabbing him by the
arm. "This is my problem! Come here, look!" Nick propelled AJ
forward, leading him down the hallway to point to the still figure lying prone
on the floor. AJ blinked in surprise, and turned to give his agitated friend a
questioning look. With a nod of his head, Nick signaled to AJ, and they crept
back into to his room.
"What's going on?" cried AJ,
exasperated. "Why is Brian sleeping outside, next to your
door?"
Nick began to pace, locking his hands
behind his head. "I'm not sure, but it looks like he was waiting
for me!"
"Waiting for you? What for?"
Nick flipped the blade open slowly, for
effect. "I found this on Brian, he's parked outside my door,
and by the looks of it, waiting for me! It doesn't take a genius to
figure out what he wanted."
"Damn," breathed AJ. "Are
you sure?"
"No, I'm not sure!"
hissed Nick, not wanting his voice to carry. 'But what else could it be?"
AJ covered his eyes with hands as he
slumped into a chair. " I need a cigarette," he groaned.
"Forget that!" snapped Nick,
exasperated. "What are we gonna do?"
AJ tore his hands away from his face to
glare at Nick. "I don't know, I don't know!" he replied, frustrated.
"Lemme think, okay?"
"Should we tell X?"
"No!"
"Call the police?" offered Nick.
AJ stared back. "Hello? Are you
crazy? Today's headlines: Backstreet Boy tries to kill best friend, stay tuned."
"Okay, okay I get the picture,"
groused Nick. "And he's not my best friend," he added. "So what
are we gonna do?"
"I thought you were going to let me
think! Shut up, will ya?"
"Well, while you're thinking,
I'm going to see Kevin. Maybe he can help," grumbled Nick, leaving the
room. Before AJ could retort with a suitable reply, Nick was back, his face
pale.
"He's gone."
"Who, Brian?"
"Yeah, he's gone. He must have woke
up while we were talking."
"Just great," muttered AJ,
standing up. "Let's go wake the others."
* * * * *
A sharp, stinging slap to his face woke
Brian up and he struggled frantically to sit upright, only to feel the strong
arms of Xavier lift him off the ground.
"Wake up," sing-songed Xavier.
"Time to rise and shine, golden boy."
Brian blinked a few times, trying to wipe
the cobwebs of his drug-induced sleep from his mind. He searched anxiously in
his pocket for the switchblade, only to come up empty-handed. Xavier laughed in
amusement.
"Lost it, huh? Someone take it while
you were sleeping?" He smirked, glancing at Brian, then Nick's door.
"Some bodyguard you are," he mocked. With a not-so-gentle shove he
pushed Brian down the hallway. "Come on. It's a brand new day. Time to
look alive." Wearily, the blond singer headed for his room and Xavier
caught up to him, grasping his arm tightly. "If I wanted to hurt your
buddy, there's not one thing you could do to stop it," he hissed, "so
you might as well stop trying."
Brian ripped his arm away, giving Xavier a
look of pure hatred. "I'll never stop trying. You haven't won the game
yet."
Xavier stopped, a smile creeping onto his
face as he watched his opponent march down the hallway. "Oh, but I will. I
always do," he whispered.
***
