WARNING: This story contains relationships between adults of the same sex. If you are too young (18 or 21 dependent on local area laws) or if this isn't your thing, then go read some of J.R.R. Tolkien (whom I heartily recommend. If that proves too much, then try Beast Wars.
DISCLAIMER: This story is FICTION, which means it really isn't true. It doesn't imply anything about the sexuality of Nick Carter, or any other Backstreet Boy, nor does it imply that their characters and/or behaviour are as portrayed.
I'm really sorry part three is a) late, b) shorter than average. As excuses, I offer the fact that I had exams (all finished, yay!) and then I was on holiday in the Emerald Isle. I had planned to do some of this writing there, because I was anticipating the holiday from hell -- long story -- but it proved to be far better than I thought and so I got exactly 326 words done there! Which didn't help.
Anyhoo, this is part three. Now I've got a plot sorted out, I just want to go and write all the interesting bits, but I know if I do that I'll never finish this properly, so... I guess this is really Padma's story at the moment this chapter, but I do need her to do this now. I'll stop talking now, but feedback, as ever, is appreciated greatly. (I'd just like to thank Matt, who sent me my first fanmail) If it's bad, I want to know! If it's good, I still want to know!
The address is: dreamer@beautifulboy.co.uk
Finding a Belief-3:
Alex jerked awake. The sun surged past the open window and inflamed his sweat-streaked flesh, casting a wide shaft of light across his frame that glowed golden in its embrace. He ran a hand down the centre of his bare chest and it came away damp. Raising his head, he glanced at his surroundings, then let it drop back down against the arm- rest of the sofa. He could feel the moisture running down the line of his spine as he shifted awkwardly, it ran down, tickling him with a touch far softer and yet more tortuous than Nick's, down, caressing him lovingly, some long lost lover, and...
Swinging his long legs off, he sat on the edge of the sofa, and put his face in his hands, trying to desperately recall what had awakened him so suddenly, but nothing would come. He groaned at the clammy feeling of the sweat on his body and the ache in his groin, but ran into the bathroom anyway, and closing the door quietly, so as to not rouse Nick, he switched on the shower.
When he emerged, considerably cooler and fresher, Nick was still asleep. He wondered if Nick would mind him calling room-service and getting something to eat, and deciding to do so anyway.
Nick was yet sleeping, his face peacefully turned toward the sun's warm rays as they entered through the window. Alex stood and watched him for a moment, remembering the lightning blue in Nick's laughing eyes, the ever-ready smile. One of Nick's arms was curled up by his head; the other lay atop the sheet, white and smooth, like ivory. The shape of his body was clearly discernible through the tenuity of the sheet.
Alex stood at the window in the meantime, letting his already tanned skin catch the morning sun. He outshone the sun as he stood there, shaming it into meekness, as his beauty and the light fused and consorted to render him godlike. The sea glimmered and the sand- edged bay seemed to be like a necklace that flashed and dazzled with the light of many diamonds. On the edge of the beach stood palm- trees, their fronds drooping pitiably in the languorous heat, and here and there the odd person was out for her morning constitutional, or bathing ritually in the sea. There was a tap at the door, and the room service had arrived. Having thanked the boy and tipped him, he brought in the trays; some newspapers seemed to have come up too, Kevin's doing, he supposed.
Nick awoke from an implausible dream of a pink combine- harvester that was eating Brian to the ringing of cutlery. At first he thought that the machine had suddenly sprung arms and some manners, but as he blinked against the brightness and things came into focus, he saw it was just Alex tidying up the food. Nick lay there and watched him for a few precious minutes, listening to his quiet humming, and the movement of his muscles under his skin. Looking about the rooms, he had to admit that Management had come good this time. There was another sofa in the separate lounge area outside, which had a television of its own, in addition to the smaller one here, and the bathroom connected to both rooms. There was thick royal blue carpet on the floor and very nice blue wallpaper. Idly wondering whether the other rooms were like this, he shifted slightly.
Alex turned. "Oh, sorry," he whispered, careful not to break that moment just after sleep disappears and the world seems at peace. "I didn't mean to wake you."
Nick smiled. "You didn't," he said softly.
"Look," Alex pointed to the papers. "Kevin's sent you some educational stuff!"
Nick rolled his eyes. "He's always doing that; if it's not papers, then it's classical music from whatever country we might happen to be visiting, or phrase-books."
"Yeah, but you read and listen to them anyway, don't you?"
"So?" said Nick defensively.
Alex just smiled and handed him the papers. "I've already read these, it's your go, but don't take too long, the food's going cold."
"Yes mom," said Nick obediently. "By the way, you gonna put anything on, or you gonna walk around in your boxers all day?"
The colour rose to Alex's cheeks and he quickly grabbed his t- shirt and his trousers and threw them hurriedly and embarrassedly. Nick laughed at his discomfiture, and getting out of bed, stumbled to the bathroom. Alex shook his head, and reached for his socks. A thought occurred to him, and he rapped on the bathroom door.
"Hey, I'm just going to see Padma, okay?" he called. A burst of admirably out-of-tune Mariah Carey answered him. Alex fairly ran out of the room.
Padma awoke with a start. A shaft of light penetrated through a crack in the curtains to cast a splotch of brilliance on the opposite wall. She watched it for a moment, wondering why she was awake, until the cause of her sleep's interruption repeated itself in the form of soft knocking at the door. She swung her legs out of bed, noting with disgust that her skirt had gotten crinkled. Her anklets, adorned with bells chimed in the dark as she rose to answer the door.
Her door opened.
"You okay?" he asked, immediately taking her fine hand in his. Padma looked puzzled by the question, as though she really didn't understand how to answer. "You know," he continued, "with Kevin, and..."
She looked shocked, but she said, "I'm fine," giving an unconvincing smile.
Alex knew that prying further would just result in a complete closing off of information. "Are you sure?" he asked instead.
She looked pensive, then said, "yes," almost to herself, almost as though she were deciding something in her head, before repeating out loud, "I'm fine." Alex said nothing, but nodded and walked away. She stood at the door gazing after his back, feeling as though a cat had just rubbed itself against her leg; an inexplicable warmth pervaded her body, and shaking her head to dispel the feelings, she shut the door.
He exhaled, and returned to Nick's room. He couldn't see him anywhere, so he sat down on the bed, absently flicking on the television. There was a rustle and the smell of shampoo from the bathroom, and Alex glanced up, and his breath caught in his throat.
The door had been left ajar, and through the crack could clearly be seen Nick, his back turned, naked. Each centimetre of skin lain open to the rake of Alex's gaze. He was unable to tear his eyes from the stolen snatch of vision, should he have wished it; yet something more disturbing was entering his mind. The air was still caught in his throat, and he breathed out as he lurched to the door and ran down the corridor; and having turned the corner, there he stood with his back against the wall, staring blankly in front of him. Damn it, somewhere between yesterday and today, he had got to know that body -- why did it seem so damn familiar?
He looked down at his hands and saw a little grey smudge on his fingertips. He frowned at it, tried to rub it away, but to no avail. Must have been from the newspapers earlier.
Padma sat quietly on the closed toilet seat cover and covered her face with her hands. What had she done? A wave of loneliness at her prospective rejection by her parents flooded over her, drowning her in its salty spray. How? How could she have discarded everything that had been drummed into her from her childhood, each rule, each mandate, each tenet of how a respectable Indian girl should behave? She was completely to blame of course. She was the one who had drunk just a little too much, she was the one who had sought him out, she was the one who had let him. It had been good, there was no doubt about it, she knew from all her friends that it should have been that way, that this was the way. So why did she feel so sickened by her very image? It was a stupid question anyway. She knew in her heart the answer, that she wasn't in love with him, and would never be so. She was attracted, sure, but lust can be found in anything, love occurs just once or twice, and she had already suffered its stab. Yet she knew nothing of it; and so she lamented the death of the last fragment of her childhood in silence. She mourned her loss of innocence, her failure, but most of all her betrayal. There was a bitter taste in her mouth as she contemplated this last.
The Fates fucked her over. She was merely the latest in their long line of conquests: a string pulled too tight here, a thread missing there, a flaw in the tapestry they were weaving. But her spirit struggled and strove against the binding, and bought her a little freedom. For what, or for how long, none could say.
Alex stood in the corridor unable to find the answers to his problems, so with disturbed heart he returned to the bedroom to pick up his clothes.
"Hey there!" said Nick, almost too cheerfully, flashing that radiant smile at him. "What'cha up to?"
"I gotta get my stuff to get out of here," said Alex, avoiding his eyes. Had he been looking, he would have noticed Nick's face fall. As it was, he merely scooped up his jacket off of the floor -- although it was useless in this weather, he always had it with him -- ran a hand uselessly through his short hair, glanced about him and made for the door.
"Are you in a hurry or something?" asked Nick, sounding a little sad to Alex's ears. Alex didn't care to speculate as to whether this was merely a product of his imagination.
'Well, yeah,' he thought, but didn't say anything.
"Come on, stay a little while," begged Nick.
Alex didn't look at him. He knew if he did that there would be a look on Nick's face that would make him stay. He didn't know how that was at all possible, and it only served to deepen his confusion when he looked and found exactly what he expected.
"You can call your parents, tell them you're staying," suggested Nick. Alex forced his features to brighten, and nodded congenially.
'Yes, I can, can't I? After all, who turns down an opportunity to hang out with a Backstreet Boy?'
"Okay, fine," he said grudgingly. "You win. Do you know what we're going to be doing?"
"Oh, shit, I've got rehearsals for tonight's concert in the afternoon... hey, you can come! Watch backstage!"
The idea instantly appealed to Nick, but Alex was hesitant. "...gee, I don't know..."
"Once in a lifetime opportunity..." said Nick, flashing a salesman's smile at him. How many of those smiles did he have? wondered Alex. "If I can bring Padma... I'll never hear the end of it if she finds out I went and didn't ask her," he said out loud.
Nick nodded. "Sure, bring whoever." The phone rang, and Nick sprawled across the bed to pick it up. "Hello? Oh, hey Kev. No, we already ate. Do I have to? Can... okay. Okay. See ya." He put the phone down. "That was Kev," he announced a little superfluously. "He wants us to go join'em all for a group breakfast."
Alex looked worried. "Oh, I'm sorry -- I didn't know. I wouldn't have ordered all the other stuff --"
Nick tsk-tsked reprovingly. "Don't worry about it; you coming?"
"Well, I guess. It is okay if I do?"
"Dammit, would you stop being so damn unwilling?" said Nick with a flash of irritation. Alex was a little taken aback, more so than actually contrite. "We're normal guys too, not royalty," continued Nick as the momentary scowl that had occupied his face faded. "You don't have to bow and scrape before us." A little smirk flitted on to his lips. "Except for me. You're my personal slave-boy. On your knees bitch!"
Alex looked politely outraged at the request, raised an eyebrow, and slapped him (not too hard) upside the head. Nick grinned. "That's more like it!" He flounced out the door. Alex shook his head in bewilderment and followed.
The rest of the Boys were already in AJ and Brian's shared suite, where a pair of trolleys bearing assorted breakfast items stood off to one side. The smell of eggs and bacon assaulted them as they entered. "Wow, you don't half eat a lot," observed Alex under his breath.
Howie heard, and grinned. "All that dancing makes me hungry."
"Call that dancing?" scoffed AJ. "Nick can dance better than you can!"
"Hey!" said Nick and Howie in unison and protest. The rest of them laughed.
"Where's Padma?" asked Alex.
Kevin answered. "She's just in the bathroom, getting ready."
"Well?" asked Brian of Kevin.
"Well, what?" He knew exactly at what Brian was getting.
"You know..."
Kevin narrowed his eyes, then looked at them all. "Be nice," he ordered. "I don't want any of those nudge-nudge-wink-wink things that AJ always seems to set off, okay?"
"Understood," replied AJ, saluting. As if on cue, Padma entered, demurely tucking a loose strand of hair behind her neck, and not meeting the eyes of anyone, not even Kevin, which Alex thought a bit odd.
There they were, all of them. She could feel their scrutiny boring through her, six pairs of eyes all in her direction. Then almost as one, she felt their attention waver and fade as conversation was struck up again by AJ. Gratefully, Padma assumed a seat next to Alex, who took the opportunity to whisper to her, "Are you sure you're alright?" She thought about the question, perhaps too long, because he touched her gently on the arm to stir her from her own private world. She gathered herself, visibly, and nodded, glancing up for a fateful split- second. The look in his warm brown eyes reassured her automatically, and she felt a little better. It was a shame he was only here half the year, for he was such a good friend, with maturity that well-belied his tender years. She grasped his soft hand, and held it.
Alex glanced up and saw an unfathomable look in Kevin's eyes. There was so much more here than she was letting on, he knew. He could only hope that she'd know that he was here whenever she should decide to let her feelings go. He caught Nick's eye from across the room and smiled, and, getting one in return, he suddenly remembered.
"Hey Pad," he said to her, once again disturbing her from her dreams, "I know what'll cheer you up!"
She was about to protest that she didn't need cheering up, but knew it would be futile exercise, and therefore replied, "What?" instead.
"How'd you feel like going to a Backstreet Boys concert tonight?" he asked.
She couldn't help but smile at the youthful excitement in his eyes. "Well, I should think so too," she said with a mock-primness. "We did spend the night as their guests." She turned up her nose a little, an action that brought her gaze locking into Kevin's eyes, eyes that were dark dark brown, not at all like Alex's, unreadable, like a mask, but dangerous somehow too. She blushed, and involuntarily a little sigh escaped her lips, before she managed to look down and away.
"Pad, are you sure--" began Alex.
"If you ask me one more time if I'm alright, I'm going to slap you," declared Padma firmly. "Now shush."
Alex grinned. That was more like her, a little of the old fighting spirit had revived. Howie had switched on the television. It looked like a weather forecast, but it was all in Hindi.
"... sravaN adhik nikaT, kal sanjh-ko aa raha hoga..."
"Can you understand?" asked Nick.
"A little," admitted Alex. "It may rain tomorrow, apparently." Padma appeared to choke, and started coughing. He frowned at her, and convinced it was genuine, turned his attention back to Nick.
"A little rain, finally," said Nick in relief. Padma pressed her lips together as hard as she could to keep from speaking.
"What time do we have to be at the arena, Kev?" asked AJ.
"No later than two please," said Kevin resolutely. "Someone, what's the time now please?"
"It's..." said Alex, looking at his watch, "a quarter to nine."
"What?!" asked Brian incredulously. "I've been up for ages. This isn't fair. I'm going back to sleep," and with that he rose and headed back into his room.
Thank God I don't have to go to work today, thought Padma as she looked around. I'd risk the sack if I went in the state I'm in today, and probably a beating from Dan if I told him what I've done. No, it's best to stay where I am. I'll be fine.
They disbanded. Kevin and Howie went shopping, AJ followed Brian's example and hit the sack, and Nick and Padma and Alex lolled uselessly around the hotel rooms, playing the odd games on the PlayStation, until the asphyxiating heat settled happily down around midday, and they all lay in various states of semi-consciousness in Nick's room. Padma was of course used to this, and was so less affected, but her preoccupation more than used up any excess energy she might have possessed. Somewhere inside her, she was mocking herself. Here you are, she thought, in a room with two gorgeous blond boys, and all you can think about is how depressed you are? The voice however, was small, almost insignificant compared to the hugeness of her problems, and so it faded away, starved of attention.
An uneasy sleep came over Nick as he lay there by Alex on the bed. He stirred and fidgeted, and Alex, fearful lest he accidentally awake him, rose and crossed over slowly to sit by Padma.
"You looking forward to tonight?" he whispered.
She nodded.
"It'll be really cool, won't it?"
She nodded.
"...are you going to tell me what's going on, ever?"
She shrugged. Alex gave a heartfelt sigh, and wrapped arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. She relaxed against him, and he leant gently back on the sofa until they were lying together in the embrace, her head on his chest. She could hear the quiet but steady beats of his heart, and she closed her eyes and tried to think of a time when life was simple.
Her mother was busy cooking, her father at work, her brother at school. She was alone, more or less. And what was a three-year old to do on her own? She went into every single room, opened the door to every single cupboard and every single drawer, and taking the contents, dumped them in a heap on the floor. Her mother's expression on coming upstairs was indescribable.
"Lali," she'd asked for that was what they called her. "Lali, did you do this?"
A sudden wave of embarrassment had overcome her, and she couldn't meet her mother's gaze as she shook her head mutely.
"Lali oh, Lali. What are we going to do with you?" Her mother had knelt down in front of her, and when she'd looked up, she saw no ire there, just a priceless look of love and affection in those eyes, and it had made her so safe, so sheltered, so secure...
She wished from the bottom of her heart that she could have that now. She looked up at Alex's eyes as they looked down upon her, and saw a flicker of sadness... or something.
---ooo000ooo---
Ooo. Well, I'll try and get the next part out on time. Should be this time next week, but if things come up it might be the week after next. But almost definitely not as long a wait as last time. Does everyone reading like Padma?
Any ideas/comments/complaints/praises are much appreciated; That address again: dreamer@beautifulboy.co.uk