Notes: This story is a little different. For each section, you have a choice to read the story from the view point of one of the two main characters: the fictional Scott Waters or Brian Littrell. BUT: If you read the story from both view points you'll get the entire story, particularly when the characters are not together.
I apologize if I seem to be in a bit of a time warp, but the idea for the story came to me and it fit the time line (hence the story's name Millennium Love). The story starts in October 1998 and runs up to the new millennium. Also, if some events don't coincide with real events, remember, it's only fiction!
Please let me know what you think of the story and the format for it.
Legalities: This story is fictitious. It is not meant to imply anything about any of the Backstreet Boys or anyone else. No, I am not Brian Littrell, or Scott Waters. If you're offended, go away. If you're curious, keep reading, you might like it ;-)
Please let me know what you think at kenitra_canada@hotmail.com (Please mention the story title somewhere in your message so I know which of my stories you like or don't like!)
Thanks for reading. Kenitra (P.S. If you haven't read my story Fates Reason - I'm a gal!!)
Millennium Love - Scott ********** Part 1 ********** I slammed on the breaks, barely missing the man running across the busy street, heedless of traffic. He had cut across the oncoming lane of traffic before darting in front of my car. I watched him quickly look behind him and turned to see the devil chasing him.
It wasn't the devil, but a mob of about fifty young girls, screaming and crying. Drivers impatiently blared their horns. Traffic on the road had come to a standstill as the girls ran onto the road and mingled about frantically searching for the object of their attention.
Speaking of whom, the man had ducked down against the parked car beside me. He was breathing heavily and I could see a look of fear on his face. Taking a closer look, I thought I vaguely recognized the wavy blonde hair peaking out from under a baseball cap, and the wide blue eyes. I turned down my blaring radio as the Backstreet Boys song `Anywhere for You' finished playing. Glancing to my left, I could see that it would only be a few seconds before the leading group of about fifteen hysterical girls spotted their target. Making an impulsive decision, I hit the power window button and leaned over the gearshift to the open window.
"I would say you have two choices," I said quietly and he looked up, startled. I continued, "You could get in," I flicked the door handle so the door popped open slightly, "Or you could run."
I don't think I've ever seen someone make a decision so quickly. He crawled over to the door and yanked it open, pulling it quietly closed behind him just as the first girls rounded the hood of my car. I slowly began to move forward as I closed the tinted glass window. My new companion remained slumped forward in the seat, breathing hard, but trying to remain invisible to any searching teenage eyes.
Less than a minute later, I was out of the traffic jam and driving freely down the street. My passenger remained curled up, although his breathing had slowed and become more regular. "You can sit up now," I told him softly, glancing curiously at the man, trying to figure out where I had seen him before.
Finally he sat up; pulling off the sweat drenched ball cap and running his fingers through his damp curly hair. "You are a lifesaver, man," he said with a slight southern accent not usually heard in Toronto. He turned to look at me with a smile, "I don't know how to thank you."
The light finally went on in my head as he held out his hand. "I'm Brian Littrell," he said at the same time a little voice in my head was shouting `THAT'S BRIAN LITTRELL FROM THE BACKSTREET BOYS YOU MORON!'
I managed to remain calm as I shook his hand, and continued to drive. I was amazed at how calm my voice sounded when I introduced myself. "Scott Waters. Nice to meet you Brian." Brian knew I recognized him from the look on my face, but he didn't say anything.
We talked for a few minutes before Brian leaned back into the seat, relaxing and staring out the window. I thought he was going to fall asleep he looked so drained. I had to find out where we were going. "Um, Brian," I said gently.
"Mmm?" he responded groggily. His damp hair formed ringlets around his ears and I had to resist the urge to touch them.
"Where are you staying? What's the name of your hotel?" I asked, raising my voice a little. Not that I objected to driving around T.O. with the cutest of the boys sleeping beside me; it was surreal. But I knew that he probably had interviews, rehearsals, or something else he had to get to. It was almost five PM and the sun was beginning to set sooner and sooner as it always did in October. I turned my headlights on and continued driving north. I was heading home from work, and had planned on stopping for groceries along the way. I decided that until Brian told me otherwise I would continue with my own plans.
After another few minutes of silence, during which I was sure he had fallen asleep, Brian rolled his head around against the headrest and looked at me. "Sorry," he said with a rueful smile. He pushed himself up in the seat. "I was just enjoying a few minutes of absolute peace without hysterical fans or the other guys around."
I returned the smile, "No problem. It must be difficult finding some down time for yourself when you're married to four other guys." Brian glanced at me quickly and I thought he was going to say something, then he decided against it.
"So where are we headed?" he asked as he watched the traffic flow by in the increasing darkness.
"Well, I was heading to a grocery store then home before…" I let my sentence remain unfinished, as I grinned at Brian.
Brian laughed self-consciously, "I'm sorry about this. I was out shopping in the Eaton Center and thought I was keeping a low profile. Then I got careless. I found something I wanted to buy but didn't have the cash for," he paused. "I pulled out my credit card and the cashier…"
I finished the sentence for him, "was a teenage girl who went hysterical and attracted the attention of a few dozen other girls?"
"Exactly." Brian grinned then frowned as something occurred to him and he looked down at his watch. "Damn," he said under his breath.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"You wouldn't happen to have a cell phone? I'm supposed to meet the guys for dinner at five and it five to five now. I left my phone in the hotel room."
I indicated the glove compartment and told him, "My parents insisted that I have a phone in case of emergencies, I guess this constitutes one."
He smiled that brilliant smile and pulled out the phone. I ignored the little flip my heart did telling myself that if he knew he would jump of the still moving car. I decided to pull into the Mac's store I saw coming up and wait. No sense continuing north if I was turning around to take Brian back downtown. Brian finished dialing and waited for someone to answer.
"Hey Kev, its me," he said then held the phone away from his ear as his cousin began to shout.
"Bri, where the hell are you?" the voice on the other end shouted. "Brian?"
"Our mother hen," Brian said to me before he returned the phone to his ear and began explaining things to his cousin. I decided to run into the store for a Coke.
I picked up a couple of bottles of Coke, paid and headed back out to my car. That's when it hit me. BRIAN LITTRELL was sitting in my car, talking on my phone. I've always been one stuck in the mundane, living in the reality of my life, my family and friends. Sure I had fantasies once in a while, but the logical part of my brain always kicked in and returned me to reality. When I did fantasize, though, they were generally about the man now sitting in the passenger seat of my car.
I twisted off the lid of the pop and took a swallow, leaning against the hood of my car. My reality was pretty boring. I would be twenty- four in December. I grew up in a small town north of Toronto; the town with the widest main street and the narrowest minds as my friends and I liked to say. I was in my last year of high school when I finally admitted to myself that I was gay. The most amazing thing was that my parents didn't flip out when I told them. They were disappointed that there wouldn't be any grandkids from me, but my sister took care of that. After finishing high school, I went to university for three years where I met my first and, so far, only boyfriend. I wanted so much to be in love that I convinced myself I was, for almost two years. Eventually Drew and I realized that it wasn't love, but we've remained close friends.
After university, I still wasn't sure what I wanted to do so I returned home and enrolled in the community college. A one-year computer program got my career going. I started designing web sites for local businesses, drawing pretty good reviews. A year later I decided to do the one thing I had always swore I wouldn't - got a job in the city. I found work as a Web administrator for a company in downtown Toronto. However, I refused to live right in the city, preferring the ninety- minute commute to a small town outside the city.
I heard the car door open behind me and turned to see Brian join me against the hood of the car. I silently handed him the other bottle of Coke. "Thanks," he said taking a few swallows. "Talking to Kevin can really dry a guy out," he said with a laugh that went straight to my soul. He still looked tired but not as exhausted as he had earlier.
"So what's happening?" I asked after another quick swallow of pop.
"I'm going to call a cab and head back to the restaurant. Kev said that they would still be there."
"Brian," I looked at him seriously, "I honestly don't mind driving you." `Just to spend a little more time with this blonde god,' I thought, then continued, "This isn't the best part of the city and it could take a while for a cab to get here."
Brian looked at me strangely. "Do you do this often? Pick up complete strangers and drive them all over the city?"
I shook my head emphatically. "God no! My parents would kill me if they knew I picked up a stranger in downtown Toronto. Even where I grew up in the sticks north of here, I never picked up hitchhikers or anything." I looked directly into those clear blue eyes, "But even before I knew who you were I could see that you were in trouble. What kind of human would I be if I had left you at the mercy of the mob?" I turned to get back in the car, then gave him a little shot. "Of course, I could take you back to the girls if you want?" He visibly trembled and the smile disappeared from his face. `Damn' I swore to myself and stepped back to the front of the car. I tentatively reached out to touch his shoulder. I wanted to comfort him, but I didn't want him to think I was coming on to him. "Hey Brian, Sorry. It was only a joke. I wouldn't wish that scene on anyone."
His blue eyes glistened with unshed tears but he managed a weak smile as he looked up at me. "I know. It just got a little scary, that's all." He turned and opened the passenger door, "so you giving me a ride or what?" he asked giving me a brilliant smile I would go anywhere for.
God what a face, and he seems so down to earth.' I thought as I suddenly remembered back to the first time I had seen *that* Brian Littrell smile and the other Backstreet Boys. I was visiting my sister in Quebec and had turned on the music video station. There on the screen were these five absolutely adorable guys in sweaters and ski jackets singing I'll Never Break Your Heart'. Despite the bad hair cut, Brian immediately caught my attention. The band was still trying to break into the North American market at the time and I had never heard of them. I wasn't into the pop music scene, but that video changed my musical tastes. I smiled to myself as I got back into the car brushing some of my shaggy black curls from my forehead.
I pulled back onto the street heading south. Brian gave me the address for the restaurant. Fortunately I had a good sense of direction and was beginning to learn the streets downtown after six months of commuting to and from work.
We began talking, not about anything in particular, but it was amazing how at ease I felt talking to him. He seemed to feel the same way. Despite the rush hour traffic we made it to the restaurant in just over half an hour, arriving at five forty-five. I pulled into the parking lot, found an empty spot and stopped. I didn't want this bizarre afternoon to end but at least I would have the memory.
"Well, its been interesting," I said to Brian, holding out my hand. Ignoring it, he unfastened the seatbelt and opened the door. Once out, he turned back, sticking his head inside.
"Coming?" he cocked an eyebrow as he looked at me. My heart did that little flip thing again. I ignored it.
I almost laughed at the double meaning in his question. Instead, I replied with a simple, "Excuse me?"
Brian closed the door and walked around to my side of the car. He opened the door and pulled me out. "After saving my life this afternoon and driving me so far out of your way, the least I can do is buy you dinner." He grabbed my arm and pushed me towards the restaurant entrance. He held the door open for me. As I walked past him, Brian whispered, "Besides, I want to prove to Kevin that I was telling the truth and wasn't picked up by some psychotic stalker." He grinned at me conspiratorially and I burst out laughing. This man was so NOT what I would have expected. The entire afternoon had been one strange event after another and I was feeling light heading from a lack of food (I'd skipped lunch to finish reviewing new content for the web site.) and the company I was keeping.
The inside of the restaurant was small and most of the customers were middle-aged or older. It only took a couple of seconds to spot the odd men out, four gorgeous young men sitting in the back corner - staring at me. Brian grabbed my arm again (I could get used to that feeling!) and we walked through the restaurant to the table with his bandmates.
"Guys, this is Scott Waters," he pushed me down into an empty chair. "Scott, this is Nick, A.J., Kevin and Howie." (As if I didn't recognize each and every one of them!) Nick was seated to my left and Kevin was directly across from me. I could see the frown on his face and knew he immediately thought the worst.
I was momentarily proven right. "Brian, no offence Scott, but how could you bring a stranger here? He could be a reporter or something!" he said, clearly concerned.
I laughed aloud and the five men looked at me. "Me, a reporter? Would you believe I've really never even been out of Ontario except to Quebec a couple of times?" I suddenly was angry that I had been judged so quickly without Kevin or the others knowing anything about me.
"For your information, I'm from a small town north of Toronto and work as a Web administrator for an electronics company here in the city." I rarely got angry, but when I did, I usually didn't know when to stop. "You know, I used to wonder why tourists always said Canadians were so polite compared to Americans. I never really noticed until now." I stood up and walked away, barely able to breathe. I just told off the Backstreet Boys and ruined what would have been an amazing memory. I tried not to let it bother me too much because I knew that if they knew the truth about me they would be happy to see me go.
TBC
Sorry if this is a little short. Once I get organized, I'll try to send two parts together. Hope you enjoyed it. Kenitra Kenitra_canada@hotmail.com