A Chapter
About Brian’s Funeral That I Hastily Slapped Together In Twenty Minutes So I
Could Show Susan When I Came Online And Make Her Laugh Cause Laughter Is The
Best Medicine And She Has A Cold So I’m Trying To Be A Good Friend And Make Her
Feel Better
The day of Brian’s funeral dawned cool and rainy (cause, come on,
it’s not like it’s ever sunny at a bopper fanfic funeral – that would be too
happy). And pretty much all that
happened at the funeral was that everyone walked up and stared at Brian’s
corpse (which was waxy and didn’t look like him, etc.) in his baby blue silk-lined
casket (cause he liked blue, you know, so of course his coffin would be blue on
the inside). And then Nick made an
inspirational speech about his bestest friend ever, Frick, and then the guys
sang “One Sweet Day,” and PANTS sang it with them. Oh, and since we’re on the topic of PANTS, I
guess I should mention what they all wore to the funeral.
Safyre looked stunning in a skin-tight pair of black leather
pants, a black halter with fringe on the bottom, and black platforms. Her hair (which was also black… hey, wait a
minute – why the hell does she have hair anywhere? Didn’t she have cancer? Oh well… bopper stories don’t have to be
logical or realistic, I guess… so yeah, her hair was black, and she had lots of
it because obviously, she was so unbelievably perfect that chemotherapy had no
effect on her) was hanging loose, framing her beautiful face. Her too-heavily-applied eye makeup ran as she
cried, leaving trails of black gunk under her radiant sapphire blue eyes and
tarnishing her beautiful white complexion.
Nikki was also wearing a pair of skin-tight black pants, only hers
were stretchy and not leather, and her top was a tube top, not a halter. She, too, wore black platforms, and her
blonde hair was piled on her head with happy little tendrils framing her
beautiful face. Her too-heavily-applied
eye makeup also ran as she cried, leaving trails of black gunk under her
radiant sky blue eyes and tarnishing her beautiful tan complexion.
Ali was also wearing a pair of black pants, only hers were not
skin tight, rather loose and flowing and silky.
Her top was a black lace-covered tank top and was so low cut that it
left little to the imagination, so little in fact that Howie didn’t cry during
the service because he was too busy staring at her… oh, no wait, correction –
he did cry because he’s Sweet D, and he’s a Backstreet Boy, and he loved
Brian with all his heart and was very sad that he died. So yeah, forget that bit about watching Ali
and not crying and everything…
Well, anyway, on to Praline.
Being AJ’s girlfriend, she was naturally a rebel and a bad girl and all
that (despite the fact that she was part of a girl pop band), so she opted not
to wear black and wore a skin-tight leather catsuit that was similar to
Britney’s outfit in the “Oops..” video *shudder*, only hers was not red, but
hot pink leopard-print. She even had a
cool hot pink leopard-print cowboy hat, and she had six inch stiletto cowboy
boots to go with it. Naturally, Brian’s
traditional, Christian parents were completely shocked and had the minister
escort her out of the church before the funeral started, and so she sat outside
the church by her lonesome and sulked, but hey, she still looked hot.
Well, anyway, the funeral got over, and they all headed to the
cemetery, where they watched Brian’s casket being lowered into the cold, muddy
ground, and they all said their final goodbyes and walked away, and one of them
might have seen a vision of Brian waving off in the distance or his head
smiling down at them from the heavens (kinda like on Lion King), but in any
event, they finally left anyway, but not before stopping to read Brian’s
tombstone, a classic moment in all bopper tearjerkers where someone dies. So here’s what it said:
Beloved
son, lover, friend, and Backstreet Boy
February
20, 1975 - … well, whatever the hell day he died, I dunno
It might have also contained some inspirational quote or Bible
verse or something, but I don’t feel like coming up with one at the moment, so
that will have to do.
So, yeah, anyway, as they rode somberly in a black limo (except
Praline, who, rather pissed off at being banned from the funeral, had raided
the booze from the little refrigerator in the back and was a little tipsy),
they figured the worst was over.
But they were wrong.
When the limo pulled up in front of the Backstreet Boys’ mansion
following the funeral, the boys were shocked to see a caravan of news vans
parked along the street and a flock of reporters on the lawn. They came stampeding to the limo as soon as
they spotted it. Inside, Kevin
groaned. The paparazzi was worse than
teenyboppers sometimes.
“Kevin, Kevin!” they shouted, pushing and shoving each other in
their scramble to reach Kevin as he cautiously emerged from the limousine. “How do you feel about Brian’s death?”
“No comment,” Kevin muttered, grabbing Safyre’s hand and helping
her out of the limo. The other boys and
their girlfriends followed.
“Nick!” cried one man, reaching out and snatching his arm. “Lionel Rodriquez, Teen Beat
magazine. Can I get some insight on your
feelings about your best friend’s death?”
“NO!” cried Nick, jerking out of the reporter’s grasp. “Screw you!”
Following the others, he raced up the house and away from the evil
paparazzi’s greedy clutches.
Frightened and upset, AJ, Howie, Kevin, Nick, Praline, Ali, Nikki,
Taylor, and Safyre huddled together inside the Backstreet mansion, peeking out
the curtains at the drove of reporters congregated in the yard.
If only they knew what was to come…
***