Part 11:

The New You

“Hey there.” Mo stood in the doorway of his apartment, a slight grin on his face. “Now, where are my manners?” He stepped over the threshold, slamming the door shut behind him. “Why don’t you take a seat.”

Leaning down, he hauled Howie up to his feet and then shoved him back into one of the chairs at the table. Walking around behind him, Howie then felt Mo reach into the pocket of his jeans and pull out his wallet.

“Son of a bitch,” Mo growled under his breath. The kid’s name was Howard Dorough, and he, too, was from Florida. “What the fuck are you guys, some kind of God damned circus act or something?”

Opening up the wallet, Mo expected to find at least a couple of thousand dollars to match the take in Nick and Brian’s wallets. “Holy Jesus!” he sing-songed, as he tossed the bills one by one onto the tabletop. Six thousand, four hundred, and twenty-two dollars. Six thousand-dollar bills secured with a money clip and the other four hundred and twenty two dollars in various bills were tucked in the billfold of the wallet. Looking down at the kid, he gave him a grin.

“You got a lot of money here, Howard.”

Howie looked down, nodding his head.

“Well, you know what? I want more. Do you have more money for me, Howard?”

Looking back up again slowly, Howie nodded.

“That’s what I thought, you little shit. Get up.”

Kicking the back of Howie’s chair, Howie stood up and waited while Mo came around in front of him, pulling the rag from his mouth.

“Howie, you and me, we’re going to have a little fun. But first, we need to get you ready because we got places to go and people to see.” Hooking a hand in the collar of Howie’s sweater, he dragged him roughly in the direction of the bathroom, a wicked smile on his face.

***

Leighanne sat in the back seat of the taxi, headed towards the airport. Everything was a blur and had been since she had heard the news.

A half an hour before, she had been curled up on the floor of her loft, the phone clutched tightly in her hand, when there had been a pounding at her door. Standing, she’d walked in a daze to the door, wondering for a brief moment if it wasn’t Brian. Maybe he had been on his way to see her in New York, and he wasn’t with Nick after all? Maybe they would be able to talk and work things out? Opening the door with a hesitant smile, she was greeted by Amanda, one of her friends from the acting workshop.

“Leighanne, did you hear the news?” Amanda’s eyes were sad, the corners of her mouth turned down in a frown.

“What news?”

Now she knew, knew that Howie and Nick were dead. Shot to death in Los Angeles.

And Brian was still nowhere to be found.

***

A.J. drove wildly in the direction of the ferry that would take him to Seattle. He had already placed a call to the airlines to book an immediate flight to Los Angeles. Sarah was going to wrap things up at the house take the dogs to the neighbors and meet him in LA on a later flight.

As he drove, he punched through the radio stations, looking for a station that would have some sort of update on the situation. The only info he had was what Kevin had told him, and the details had been sketchy. Kevin was going to book a flight from a small air terminal near where he was staying, and whoever got to LA first was going to go straight to the hospital.

Driving up to the tollbooth, A.J. paid the toll and pulled into a spot on the ferry just as it began to pull away from the dock. Climbing from his car, A.J. walked to the railing overlooking the water, the wind whipping at his face as he stared blankly out to the sea.

Gone were the signature sunglasses that he had used to shield him from the world. Gone also were the earrings and wild hats that he had placed in storage, along with his out-of-control youth. He now wore his hair a short, healthy shade of black, and the once meticulous goatee had given away to a clean-shaven face, tanned and free of blemishes. He was healthy and happy, and it showed. Looking down at the water as it ebbed and flowed around the slow-moving ferry, he thought about Howie and Nick.

The last time he had talked to Howie was about three weeks ago. Howie had called him on his cell phone. They talked about the weather, their families, Howie’s plans to open a restaurant in Los Angeles, and A.J. ’s stab at domesticity. The call had only lasted about ten minutes, but before they hung up, they had made promises to meet for dinner soon.

And Nick, Kid Nicky. He hadn’t seen or talked to that little player in almost two months. A.J. smiled when he thought back to the chance meeting at the nightclub in Florida. Nick had wrapped A.J. in a huge bear hug with a goofy grin that made A.J. smile. No less then fifteen leggy blondes, brunettes, and redheads had surrounded Nick, all of them vying for a position at his side. But Nick instantly was oblivious to them as he spoke to A.J., asking him about his mom, his plans to buy a new home, and his wedding plans with Sarah.

And for a single instance, it seemed like the old days, just the two of them laughing and talking about life.

Standing back from the ferry balcony, A.J. took a deep, ragged breath, fighting back the tears that swam in his eyes. He wished he would have stayed on the phone with Howie a little longer or sat down with Nick at the club and pounded back Coca-Colas while Nick did his shots. He wished he could go back and make one final memory with each one of them to last a lifetime.

The sounds of a car radio carried over the swishing of the ferry, interrupting A.J. ’s thoughts. It was a stale news report with words like death, shooter… and Backstreet Boys. Looking to the light blue Honda parked behind his own car, A.J. walked towards it, waving a hand.

“Turn it up, turn it up,” he said, leaning down into the open car window. The guy behind the wheel gave him a nasty look as A.J. pulled opened the car door and sat down in the passenger seat. “Turn it up, asshole, I need to hear this.” A.J. didn’t wait for the stranger to obey his command. Instead, he reached down, flipped the knob, and turned it up himself…

“In a scheduled news conference, Sergeant Albert Cox went over the details of the bizarre shooting. He stated that there were three men involved and that, despite early reports that there were no survivors, they are now saying that two of the men are dead, and one is in surgery at a local area hospital, condition grave. We will have more news after the break…”

Pushing his fingers into his temples, A.J. sunk back into the seat, oblivious to the curses of the irate driver whose car radio he had hijacked.

“Two of the men are dead, and one is in surgery at a local area hospital…”

Which one, if either of his friends, was still alive?

***

Mo dragged Howie into the small bathroom and shoved him down hard onto the floor.

“Sit,” he commanded as he swung open the medicine cabinet above the sink and rifled through its contents. “Bingo.” Mo’s lipped twitched as he came up with a pair of black-handled scissors and a devious smile. “Let’s you and me play a game,” he said, slamming the cabinet door shut, his eyes locked on Howie.

Then, reaching forward, he grabbed at Howie’s short black curls, roughly tugging them up before slicing them off in hunks.

“I call this game ‘The New You.’”

Howie winced as the blades of the scissors skimmed off of his scalp, the shiny, silver tips digging into his flesh as drops of his blood, mixed with his hair, fell to the floor all around him.

Standing back, Mo admired his work.

“I like it, Howard. It makes you look much more manly then those curls.” Mo dropped the scissors to the bathroom sink with a loud clang and then dragged Howie back up to his feet. “Have a look for yourself.”

Standing in the bathroom mirror, Howie stared at the reflection looking back at him. The person in the mirror was pale and scared, with short-cropped hair baring patches of bloody scalp here and there. His eyes seemed wider and darker then he ever remembered, and his jaw twitched with a nervous tick.

“It’s the new you, Howard.” Mo hovered over his shoulder in the mirror like some sort of nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. Clamping a hand down on Howie’s shoulder, Mo spun him around so that they were face to face.

“I’m going to get you some clothes to change into. This shit-” He tugged at Howie’s designer sweater. “-won’t do at all if you are going to be my new sidekick.”

***

Kevin made his way through the crowded airport terminal, a steely look in his red-rimmed eyes. He could feel the occasional stare of a passerby lock on him, a fan he was sure, but nobody approached him, and he was glad.

He had already contacted the police department in charge of the case and was immediately patched through to Sergeant Cox. The conversation between the two men was brief and to the point. Kevin’s background would be searched and his identity established as a link to the victims in question. Upon confirmation that he was indeed Kevin Richardson of The Backstreet Boys, he would then be asked to make a positive ID of the two bodies, as well as the man in ICU who was currently listed in grave condition.

Pictures swirled through Kevin’s head as he waited at the curb for the skycap to hail him a cab. Images of the two boys he had watched grow into men. Would Howie and Nick look the same in death as they had in life?

***

The sun broke through the clouds in bright, pearl-colored beams, shining down upon the three figures in the sand.

“What happens now?” Brian asked the dark-haired girl. They both looked down to Nick.

“He needs rest so that he can become strong again. So that he can live.”

Brian nodded, looking up to the sky, letting the sun warm his skin. “I want to stay with him… until he wakes up.”

The dark-haired girl shook her head, as she placed an arm around Brian’s shoulder.

“You can’t stay, Brian. You have to go now. There are people waiting for you.”

Brian pulled away from her, pushing a hand through his hair, his eyes clouding up with anger. “No, no. I’m not leaving him. Nick needs me.”

This time, when she put her arm around Brian’s shoulder, it was firm, but, at the same time, kind.

“You will always be with Nick, Brian. Always.” She tapped a finger over her heart. “You’ll be with him in here.”

Turning away from her, Brian looked out towards the bright blue sea that was calm and sparkling with light.

“Will you stay with him?” he asked the girl. “Will you stay with him until he wakes up? I don’t want him to be scared.”

“Yes, Brian, I will stay with him. And he won’t be scared anymore.”

Brian nodded to himself and then turned and nodded to her.

“Okay. I’m ready to go.”

***

Mo and Howie exited the apartment, walking down the stairs to the waiting BMW. The plates on the car had been switched out with some old plates Mo had in the storage shed out back. The old plates, along with the town car, had been placed in the shed and were awaiting the arrival of one of Mo’s associates, who would dispose of them, along with the IDs and wallets of all three young men.

Climbing in the car, Howie glanced around at his dingy surroundings, hoping for a face in a window to connect with before he disappeared. Someone who could see the fear in his eyes and know that he was in danger, but there was no one.

Mo slammed the door shut behind Howie and walked around to the driver’s side, climbing in, the gun he had retrieved from his bedroom very visible to Howie as it gleamed from the waistband of Mo’s jeans.

“Where are we going?”

“First stop is the ATM,” Mo said gunning the engine. “And after that, we’ll see.”

***

Leighanne was curled up asleep in first class on a plane bound for Los Angeles. The dream hit her fast, exploding like fireworks in her head.

When the light cleared, she saw Brian standing in the center, wearing that old stupid Bubba Gump T-shirt that she hated and a pair of faded, baggy jeans. Smiling, she walked to him, letting herself sink into his chest, as he wrapped her in a warm embrace.

“Hey baby,” he whispered into her hair.

“Brian, where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You had me so worried.”

He pulled her closer, brushing his hand lightly over her hair to comfort her. “I know, but it’s okay now. I’m here.”

Pulling back slightly, she looked up into his familiar eyes and loving smile. “Yes, you are here. And I’m never going to let you go again. I was a fool, Brian. Can you ever forgive me?”

He traced his fingertip over her forehead, then down her cheek and around her jawline, like he had done so many times before.

“I forgive you, Leighanne. Now can you forgive me?”

“Forgive you for what?”

“I had to make a choice, and because of that choice, I can’t come back to you.”

Dropping her arms from around his waist she pulled back in confusion. “What do you mean, you can’t come back? Brian, I love you, and I want to be your wife and the mother of your children.”

His bottom lip trembled ever so slightly, as tears sparkled in his eyes. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words.” He shook his head as he spoke. “But it’s too late now. I had to make a choice.”

She didn’t know what he was talking about, but she was tired of the riddles. “Brian, stop it.”

“I’m dead, Leighanne.”

Her mouth parted without words, and this time, when she reached out for him, her hands seemed to go right through him.

“I had to make a choice, Leighanne.”

Standing back, she looked at him, anger and hurt flaring in her eyes. “Take it back, Brian. Take the choice back now!” she screamed. “Take it back.”

“I can’t. I love you, but I can’t take it back.” He desperately wanted to hold her, to stroke her hair just one last time, but it was too late. “I made the choice, and now I have to go.”

And then he was gone.

***

Death wasn’t like Brian had imagined it would be. There was no firestorm of colors or bright lights. There weren’t sins to be answered for or loved ones who had passed on before him to greet him with open arms.

It was just Brian and the water and the beautiful blue sky.

Walking into the water, he let it envelope him, welcoming him home.

It was so peaceful.

It was so perfect.

And as the last bit of water washed over his head… Brian smiled.

***

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