Hello all. I made a mistake in the last chapter and got an AJ mixed up with a JC in the first section. Hopefully it was understood! Also, hopefully everyone is just glad I got that chapter out sooner than usual and can forgive the foolish typo. I will make sure it doesn't happen again. I hope. :) Anyway... I am doing more and more plays so I will be busy but I will get these out ASAP. Send all responses to Kevin at BrwyDevil@aol.com.
Running Thoughts Part Twenty: "Happiness"
And then a figure appeared between Nick and Justin, separating them and leaving Nick alone on the winding path. This image faded and Nick soon woke up. He still didn't understand what that was all about, but fortunately he didn't need to worry. Dreams have a lot to do with uncertainty and bizarre happenings. If it represented his own life in some way, he wasn't going to try and guess at its meaning. Instead, he decided to remember where he was.
Nick sat up and realized he was still in Justin's hotel room. They had eaten breakfast and turned on some music and apparently drifted to sleep together. Laying next to him was Justin. His fluttering eyes indicated that he was dreaming and reminded Nick of what he looked like when he was singing.
It was like a dream come true for him. Actually waking up and seeing Justin there beside him. If it was possible, he had found another way to love. Just watching the beautiful boy sleep lifted him to a higher level. It made him feel inwardly rested. He didn't want to move or disturb Justin in any way. He even slowed his breath and allowed his neck to cramp a little, just to keep Justin comfortable.
He moved his eyes to check the clock near the television set but could barely read the small numbers on the other side of the room. He knew he had arrived at about six in the morning and the food had gotten there a little before seven... Nick had to be back in Queens before two o'clock. The group had to go to the Bahamas for the completion of their next CD. He didn't know what Justin's day was planned out to be but he felt compelled to make sure he was awake for it.
There were many things he could have done to stir the sleeping beauty... Many many possibilities. But he controlled his wild imagination and began to sing very softly. It was a simple tune he had heard a long time ago. He didn't remember the title and he was pretty much making up his own words.
Justin's eyes opened and closed again. He looked right at Nick, smiled and then rolled over. Nick chuckled at this and sang a little louder as he ran his hand over Justin's body and laid it on his abdomen. He adjusted his position and spooned his boyfriend. A yawn came out of Nick as he finished his song which triggered a yawn in Justin.
"Good morning." Nick whispered. "I didn't want to wake you but I wasn't sure if you had to be anywhere or not."
Justin moaned for a moment and then rubbed his eyes. "I only have to be here... though I'm sure I'm probably supposed to be somewhere else."
"I don't want to interfere with your schedule."
Justin laid on his back and turned his face towards Nick. "Sure ya do."
"You're right. I oughta handcuff you to this bed and throw away the key." Nick sarcastically nodded.
"No. I mean, that would be a lot of fun for a while... but it would be better to tie me down to something movable. I had a lot of orange juice. I'll need to use the bathroom." It sounded as if he were intoxicated- but this was cute.
Nick agreed. "well, we can skip the bondage- since I never saw the appeal. And I can just let you do what you want."
"Oooh. Free will. I like this relationship."
Both boys looked at each other. Justin raised his left hand and stroked Nick's straight blond hair. He let it slide through his fingers and he let it tickle his palm. They spent a lot of time just looking at and into each other. They loved studying expressions and reactions that they caused. Speaking was often unnecessary. Justin still had heavy bags under his eyes. He had not gotten a lot of rest the night before and Nick's interruption might have done more harm than good.
"I should probably go..." Nick said. "I don't think it would be a good idea to be found laying here together like this."
Justin feigned ignorance. "Why not?"
"Well, I already told JC I was looking for you. Isn't that suspicious? He acted really weird."
"Nick, I told the other guys." Justin said with a grin.
"You did?" Nick was surprised. It was quite a choice. He didn't think that he wanted everyone to have the facts about his personal life.
"I thought it was better than sneaking around and making up stories. It won't spread. I promise you that." Justin placed his hand on Nick's cheek. "Besides, you told me JC was with a woman... I knew he'd get cheered up soon enough."
Nick thought to himself again. "Oh wait." He had just realized something. "I think I made a mistake."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't think I saw a woman with JC... I think I got JC confused with AJ at my hotel." Nick shook his head.
"Oh... just don't tell them you got them mixed up. We don't want to spark a rivalry." Justin laughed. "But it is a shame that JC is all alone. For one thing, I lost my ten bucks."
"You do a lot of betting with those guys, don't you?"
"Just to see how well we know each other." Justin stretched. "Sometimes I realize we don't at all."
"Well I'm sorry I got confused. I can't think straight when I've got you on my mind. Which, I guess, means I never think straight." Nick shrugged.
"Don't mention it. JC... AJ... we should just start calling one of them 'Binky' or something." They both laughed. Justin leaned over to the tray that was beside them and lifted a slice of toast from the plate. He carefully took a piece off and fed it to Nick who, in turn made sure to lick one of Justin's fingers as well, while eyeing him seductively. "Well, you're frisky when you wake up."
"No. I'm always frisky."
"There's still a lot I need to learn about you."
Nick chewed the toast and nodded eagerly. "There's something I don't like about singing some of my songs. The lyrics are misleading."
"I just had a conversation about that recently." Justin sat up. "A lot of them are good... but every once in a while, I realize I'm singing something too absurd and totally immoral." He poured himself another glass of orange juice. "Gyrating endlessly on stage doesn't give me much of a clean cut image, either."
"But you look great doing it..." Nick licked his lips. "Anyway... I do care who you are and where you're from and what you've done and everything about you there is to know." He smiled as he quoted his song.
"I'll tell you whatever comes to me. It's not easy remembering things about yourself. You know them so well already that they stop occurring to you to tell people." Justin laid down closer to Nick's side. "I like being close to you. How's that?"
Nick kissed Justin sensually. "It should go without saying." They began kissing again- thoroughly enjoying each others smooth lips and warm, slippery tongues.
A loud banging interrupted their necking. Justin nearly jumped through the ceiling. Someone was assaulting the front door terribly. Nick stood up and got closer to the deafening sound.
As he stepped up past the closet, the door swung open and five men dressed in black exploded inside. Nick's eyes went wide as he stood motionless and was surrounded by the strange group.
"What the hell is going on?" Justin yelled up to the men.
"Come with us immediately." One of them responded. "You may be in danger."
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JC hadn't slept very well. As a matter of fact, he wasn't sleeping comfortably for weeks- but that made it old news. There was nothing logical in dwelling in depression. He had an immense amount of talent, he had a very sweet yet substantial fan regime and his family was so proud of him. He really wasn't missing anything.
After a long enough stretch of pitying himself, JC realized he might be spoiled. After all, the one thing he wanted couldn't even be fully figured out by himself. If he couldn't see it, how did he expect it to magically remedy itself?
He imagined that depression just attacked without cause and could only be conquered through concentration, self-analyzation and intense will power. Even the most famous of people experienced this affliction and even the strongest among them had a difficult time coping with it. All humans are created in the same way. Those who deal with their circumstances are the ones to honor. JC wished he could understand what drove him to this point of unmitigated anxiety... but unfortunately, answers were as hard to conjure up as peace was.
JC looked to Lance who had been tossing and turning in his sleep for quite some time. He was a very good friend. The closest member of the group. The conservations they had had helped JC through his difficulties. He had been very standoffish regarding why he felt low- but Lance let him focus on how he could triumph over the ailment. He didn't know if he could ever return the favor, though.
Lance was not the most distinguished personality among them. Quite the contrary. Ever since Justin stepped out of his closet, JC learned that he pretty much knew all he had to about his friends. He knew of Joey's positives and negatives. He knew Chris' interests and intellectuality. He knew Justin's desires and now his sexual preferences... Lance was really the only mystery to him.
In a way, that was refreshing. Finding someone to challenge his mental capabilities and fascinate him wasn't an easy task. Lance came closer than anyone else ever had. He was creative and caring and helpful and kind. JC was glad to know him. No one else seemed to give him inspiration or the empowerment to explore himself.
Lance turned over in his restless sleep and JC sighed. It was a pleasant realization to see that someone in his life made him feel worth a damn. Maybe that was where his depression was rooted. It was possible. A feeling of worthlessness often drove people to forget their own confidences and slide into melancholia.
JC shrugged. His job as a performer and his image in the group were defined shabbily. He felt less like an individual and more like someone's creation placed in a blockbuster music band geared on making money. He wasn't happy- that was clear. This type of thinking was definitely helpful, though. Keying in on why he felt how he did... Being able to focus on himself. Finding a cure was an entirely foreign train of thought, unfortunately.
JC got some ideas in his head and took the book out of the desk drawer. The smell of new wood wafted up through the early spring air. He enjoyed this scent. The book was filled with short entries dating back to 1998. He was overflowing with creative energy so he turned to the back and began to write. His eyes caught himself in the large mirror in front of him.
Look inside of me
Tell me what I see
I'm the man who I've always wanted to be
I can read my eyes
The sun will set and rise
I can't disappoint the one who stands always near my side
I'd never let me fall
I'd rather fight it all
Days can pass and night may come- but I'm always here for every call
My heart, my soul, Within my control
My path, my way, Once there, I'd never stray
No one hears the thoughts that run around my mind
I feel alone, and I feel scared but those thoughts can step behind
I don't want to need anyone but me
I don't need to find another soul of any kind
Everything on earth I'll ever need
Everything I need is inside of me
Look inside of me
Tell me what I see
The things that people see
The man they ought to see
The me that I've set free
Yeah, they see me.
JC looked at the odd words on the page. He was just tired of singing songs that revolved around love in coupled terms. He thought *NSync would benefit from a song of inner confidence. The lyrics and melody worked themselves out inside of him. He thought in five part harmony these days. Writing songs cheered him up. Alas, this one didn't. He flipped the book shut and threw it back into the drawer. "You're losing it."
Lance had emerged from his vision of the woman. JC's name echoed around him. He heard the commotion at the desk and leaned up on his elbows and blinked his eyes several times. "Is that a pinball machine?" He asked.
"What?" JC was nearly startled by Lance's voice.
"You're banging the desk like its a pinball machine." Lance tried to explain his joke. Unfortunately he only sounded like Chandler on 'Friends' when his humor wasn't understood by the rest of the gang. "What time is it?" he changed tactics.
"Nearly ten..."
"What are you doing up? We set the wake up call for ten, didn't we?" Lance stood up and stretched his legs.
"Yeah- but I couldn't sleep." JC explained. "I've been up all night. Justin got a visitor at 6AM. It was Nick. Came here first by mistake."
Lance grinned. "Well isn't that sweet to come so early in the morning."
"Would have been sweeter if he hadn't knocked here first."
"What's the matter with you? Wake up on the wrong side of the couch?" Lance yawned and retrieved a bottle of water.
JC realized he was snappish. "No, I'm sorry. I've just been struggling with some song writing. I wish I had a fountain of good ideas."
"You have many things."
"The same things everyone has."
Lance sat indian-style next to the desk. "You are unique and you know it. You need to stop beating yourself up."
JC had come to that conclusion during his thinking. Lance seemed to arrive at it faster. "I'll be fine. I'm not a morning person."
"I don't think anyone really is..."
"You seem to be. You're cheerful all day and all night." JC pointed out.
"I'm an optimist. Besides, I had a good dream." Lance's smile faded for a moment. "I think."
"You think?"
"Well, I can't exactly remember it anymore. You know how dreams do that?" Lance's brow furrowed. "I remember it was important, though."
"See your light." JC said nonchalantly.
Lance looked up instantly. The woman in his dream had used those same words. "What?"
"I don't know... just an old expression that means 'remember'... I've heard people say it." JC said.
Lance recalled the dream. He smiled at JC. He knew he was driven to help him. He had heard it in this very room. It wasn't just a dream from his mind. It was a message. It reprised itself strongly within him now. A great burden seemed to lift from him. All of his confusing dreams drifted away. Nick Carter in the very next room laying with one of his closest friends and veritable brothers didn't even bother him anymore. Nothing did. He looked at JC.
"Hey, let me go get dressed and we can go out for breakfast, okay?"
JC nodded. "Sounds good."
And we can look at this song. I'm sure all you need is some coffee. Coffee always makes a song better." Lance chuckled. He made his way up the step towards the bathroom. He was cheered up now. The only stress he had to worry about seemed to steadily flee from him.
The door to their room burst open, slamming into Lance's forehead, knocking him backwards down the step and over a wooden chair. JC rushed over to him and looked up at several SWAT team members combing the room with great concentration.
"What's going on!?" JC yelled as he assisted Lance on the ground. He saw Justin and Nick being led past the doorway and JC stood quickly.
"Let's move out of here!" One of the men barked. "C'mon fellas... there may be danger here!"
=====================================================
The hallway was swarming with police officers, armed detectives, security guards and FBI men. Justin, Nick, JC and the still dizzy Lance met up in the corridor and saw Joey being rushed towards them. They passed a long strip of yellow CAUTION tape in front of Chris' hotel room.
Justin stopped short and put his hand up to halt the prodding guards prodding behind him. He looked into the room and stepped around the rushing men who attempted to block his path. "Excuse me,sir- you can't get inside here. Follow the officer!" A tall guard said.
"Is Chris all right?"
The rest of the group broke away from their burly protectors and joined Justin at the threshold of the room. "Where's Chris?" Joey asked eagerly. They all got worried for a moment and then finally one calm face stepped out of the overturned room. He was shorter than all of them but seemed very intelligent and observant.
He put his hand on one of the police officers shoulders and said in a gruff, worn voice, "It's all right, Vin. The site is clear. Let them be."
The hallway quieted down as this man in the brown suit spoke. "We normally have to extensively secure a crime scene, but no one's getting in or out of this place now- so there's no reason to keep you boys in the dark."
Nick made his way around Joey and stood behind Justin's left side. He knew that whatever had happened here didn't involve him directly since he wasn't a member of *NSync but he was interested and he wanted to be supportive in case Justin had to deal with the worst.
"My name is Detective Travers... we got the call about an hour ago that a violation had occurred in here some time during the course of the night." He explained. The grand details were going to have to wait because he could see in their eyes that their primary concern was for their bandmate. "Chris Kirkpatrick was given, as far as the analyst can tell, a heavy paralytic substance, like a sedative: probably a pavulon base." Travers chewed on a toothpick and paced between the hall and the room. "He is still knocked out from it- but no other damage was done to him."
The boys were all relieved. At least they knew he was all right. "What happened?" JC inquired.
Travers faced them. "Its a ritualistic trashing of a celebrities hotel bedroom in the most meticulous and practiced degree." He said glumly. "I've seen this type before. The fans have no desire to harm the object of their attention- but an intense jealousy and displaced anger sends them to the edge and forces them to reduce the entire place that their star lives in to shambles..." He allowed the cops to let each of the boys inside the hotel room.
Every piece of furniture (aside from the bed) had been turned completely upside down. Tiny fires had been lit in the four corners of the room nearest the bed, but only areas of scorched carpet indicated it now. The mattress was torn in the outline of a sleeping body- which had been Chris at the time of the crime and the pillow that wasn't underneath his head had been ripped apart and thrown around the room. Lampshades, curtains, towels, extra linens and the clothes out of Chris' suitcases were bunched around the doorframes and stuffed into window ledges. Scratch marks, made by a strong knife, extended from the windows and above the bed. The only area of the room unaffected by the rampage was the door which led to the adjoining room.
"Why Chris?" Lance asked, removing his hand from the purplish bump which pulsed on his forehead.
"Motive of member choice is hard to determine. All I want to figure out now is who had access to this room, who was in this hotel when it happened, any suspects I can round up and then I'll narrow down my options from there." Travers answered. "I recommend you use your tour bus from now on. Security can keep you all locked down in a location like that."
Joey looked over to Lance who already knew what he was thinking. "Ummm... detective?" Joey asked after clearing his throat. "I think I can start your suspect list off to an old stalker of ours."
Justin and JC looked to Joey as he spoke. His eyebrows were lifted and his voice was low. They didn't understand what he was talking about. Travers opened his notepad.
"We began getting notes again- just like ones we got a long time ago when we first started touring."
"Did you report these 'notes'?"
"No,sir." Joey avoided eye contact with Justin and JC- who were the only ones unaware of this event. "Chris thought it would be best to keep the information just between a few of us."
"Why's that?"
"Well, if it was the same stalker who threatened us before, we didn't want Justin to get worried. Chris and I were the only ones to even be around for these new notes anyway. We considered it harmless."
Travers blinked. "You were wrong."
Lance spoke up. "Could we track the person by the notes?"
"Well, I'd need to see them. It could match the one we found here on the desk."
"Chris had them all. I'm not sure where he kept them." Joey answered.
"If they're here, I'll find them. The individual wasn't interested in taking the notes back. The newest message was left where we could find it. I'd like you to remember each time you received a note before, ok?" The detective probed into Joey, who nodded. Travers then turned to Nick. He didn't have a look of recognition on his face. "Were you here last night, son?"
Nick, who had been focussing on all of Justin's reactions, snapped back to the moment. "Ummm no- I got here early this morning."
"What time?"
"Six or so."
"Well,until I can get an exact time that the crime occurred, I'll need to know where you'll be. You're a suspect too."
Justin shook his head emphatically. He considered it outrageous to think Nick could be on a list like that. He was also still taken aback by being left out of this whole return of the stalker extravaganza. He was speechless.
"Where's Chris now?" Lance asked.
"We had him taken to the hospital just to purge the drug from his body. We could get you there if you'd like." Travers grumbled as he thought to himself and reviewed the case in his mind.
Justin looked to his friends as they nodded. Justin inhaled wearily and his eyes fell on Nick. "I've got to go make sure Chris is all right, Nick... I'm sorry we have to cut this short."
"No, no- I understand. I should head back to Queens anyway." Nick knew he had an appointment with his own group but he was reluctant to leave Justin in such a bizarre and frightening circumstance. It was also a little unsettling to know he could be on the detectives pad for ritual celebrity stunts. He let his concerns dwell on Justin now, though.
He had never seen him look so perplexed and out of control. The sweet glint that his emotion-filled eyes often displayed was clouded with insecurity and fear. His sensitivity broke through the cool, suave persona he often projected. Nick was able to see his vulnerable side now and he felt he loved Justin even more. Just for showing how perfectly human he was.
Justin let his hand brush against Nick's nonchalantly as he followed a few of the law enforcers down the hallways towards the elevators. Nick had to go that way as well but decided to let Justin leave first. He didn't want to ruin the goodbye they just shared. He felt a great amount of pressure on his chest as Justin turned the corner and left his sight. Being apart was beginning to hurt more and more.
One of the policemen gave Nick his shoes and he placed them on very slowly. He surveyed the hallway one last time as he opened the stairwell access door and began his descent to the ground floor.
======================================================
He had left. Howie had gotten on a plane and fled to the Bahamas. Brian stared up at the ceiling and grit his teeth. Every breath he took felt as if a knife was being plunged deeply inside of him. The blade he felt was sharpened by the thoughts he constantly repeated in his mind. He had been too angry to stay with Howie and merely discuss the ailments that existed within their relationship. He had left first. But there was a growing hope inside that became more intense with every step that Howie would be following him. He wanted to see some glimmer of care from the man he loved.
Brian didn't know how he was coping with this... In a split second, everything looked different to him. The future he had always seen for himself and the emotions he had always relied upon were foggy and distant. Maybe he had overreacted at first but just thinking that Howie could have been unfaithful to him seemed to rip him apart even more.
If Howie was going to admit he was wrong and fight for the love of Brian, he was going to have to do it now. Brian considered Howie's reaction to this situation as far too labored and frivelous. To him, their love was everything. Brian would abandon any focal point of his love in order to stay with Howie. But it was becoming more and more obvious that Howie didn't feel the same way.
The constant stream of consciousness that forced through Brian led him to so many thoughts, he didn't know what to do with himself. He was very angry but he didn't want to blame Howie. He was on the verge of tears but he didn't want to give in to the pain. He wanted to write out every anguish he was experiencing but he also wanted it to subside quickly without any documentation or written form of what he was going through.
Brian was in limbo. The only person he felt he felt he could talk to was Nick, but he had left for Manhattan in the middle of the night with nothing but running shoes and positivity. Brian envied that energy and confidence. He couldn't just relax and think that everything would work out. Life is never so perfectly designed.
Brian just wanted time alone to think and then a very long session with Howie that could lead to patching everything up. But now that Howie had gone to the BackStreet Boys recording studio in the Bahamas, Brian couldn't even determine when this would get straightened out. He had some more filming to do today but he was definitely not in the mood for that. He was too restless to sleep it off and too emotionally drained to keep himself busy in any other way. Brian let all of the stray possibilities ricochet across his mind.
His thoughts always came back to the fact that he couldn't trust Howie. It was a strong revelation but he wasn't quite sure what the impact was. He wanted to forget it was inside of him. He wished he could see past the red film of negative emotions that coursed through his mind.
Finding the silver lining was far too difficult, though. He had been through too much to just accept this and continue on as if it was a normal part of committed relationships. Howie and himself were very young when they had fallen in love- and they were both well aware (especially when they started growing in popularity) that it was not going to be easy to be together.
Both agreed to try, though. Waiting out the initial fear of being discovered and slowly easing into more advanced displays of mutual affection. They had built their love in a painstaking process and this is where it had gotten them. Brian nearly felt that love was an impossible theory. Even the best times he had experienced were overshadowed by this single turn of events.
He was not going to give up on the entire principle of love, but he was very slowly beginning to feel that the love he had with Howie was possibly not the real thing. This doubt hurt him even more. But he had to face facts.
Love, in all of its forms and in all the rumors Brian had sung about and encountered, was a magical connection that made you feel wonderful and inspired the most amazing thoughts, deeds and premonitions. He had had those. But recently, these tricks had faded and he was left unfulfilled, unsatisfied, disappointed and now, cheated on.
Could he let all of that go and use this basis of love for the rest of his life? Were this inconsistent let downs the be all and end all of what he was supposed to be wallowing in?
~No one deserves this pain and torment~, he said to himself. ~I love Howie. I don't think Howie shares the same intensity and strength on this matter. The only thing left for me to do, is consider it over. By doing that, I can see if my life will go on without him... and if I can find love elsewhere. Perhaps better than before.~
As he made this decision, he unclenched his fists. This ping-pong match he had just played with him mind concluded itself. His stomach tightened. Something seemed to be washing over him. Fear? Power? Loss? Confidence?
He was forced to leave Howie behind. He had too many unanswered questions and he found Howie too untrustworthy now. With these choices firmly embedded into his head, Brian began to cry for the first time.
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The cool breeze made the lazy arms of the relaxed trees sway and the bright rays of sunshine dance through the leaves. The heat was not extremely intense and the pleasant wind from the shore made the Bahamas a veritable paradise. Howie only wished he could enjoy the marvels of nature and bask in the glory that these islands had to offer. Instead, he sat inside a far too frigid sound booth looking out a small porthole onto a long boardwalk. He had traveled down that wooden path with Brian several times and seeing it made him yearn for Brian's company.
He turned back to the recording station and put the headphones on. Howie decided he was going to patch things up with Brian the only way he knew how. With music.
He had made a mistake- and he knew Brian never had to forgive him but he was determined to at least try to mend this incident. Emotions had gotten edgy and words were said- along with irrational actions. Howie didn't mean to storm out and fly to the Bahamas without a word of apology. It just happened.
Maybe he was running away. Brian had made him feel terribly guilty- more than he already was experiencing. Perhaps this trip subconsciously could help him and clear his mind, allowing for a more ethical and logical approach to the whole mess.
Howie began to listen to the compilation tape he had just constructed. He pulled a sweatshirt on and moved his chair away from the vent which doused him with arctic wind. He had put time, effort and the most regulated amounts of love into the preparation of this 180 minute musicfest.
Brian would appreciate it. He was convinced of that. But there was a bumpy road ahead. He could just imagine how hard the conversations were going to be in order to get things back to the way they were before. He pictured the hours of debate and the weeks of waning suspicion he was going to have to endure. But it would be worth it. Howie truly loved Brian. He loved the way he smelt and the way he looked after a shower. He loved watching Brian watch him. He remembered the first time the BSB went on tour and Howie saw Brian step out of an elevator, dressed in a navy blue and brown pinstripe suit. That flash of memory would always stay with him because he thought that was when he first truly fell in love. The rest of the things he soon learned only made his feelings grow stronger. Even if they didn't make him wiser.
The first three love songs sounded great and they varied in style and tone enough to keep the listener involved. Howie was pleased with it so far. But this constricting environment was far too tight. He decided to take the tape and listen on a walkman as he strolled the sandy beach.
As he stepped outside the studio entrance and watched a group of rollerbladers whiz by, he pressed play and heard the first few chords of "Everything I do". He smiled, thought of Brian's reactions to listening to the tape and made his way down the stairs and onto the soft sand.
The sun was purely dazzling as it pulsed brilliantly above the ocean. Howie began to sweat as his pace matched the beat in his ears. He watched the crystal blue waters as they rose high over the horizon and crashed down against the moist earth.
Howie paused and watched the soothing view. It never seemed so peaceful and majestic before. Every bird above seemed to be silently meditating and respecting its oneness with nature. He wished he could somehow be able to glide over the water and feel it spray against his body.
Before he knew it, Howie had nearly listened to the entire first side of the tape. Unfortunately, he had been so enraptured with the beautiful expanse of rippling water, he hadn't been focussed on it. He also realized he had walked clear across the beach.
The heat and the intoxicating waves had dehydrated him. He felt so thirsty and so a wooden bar sitting about a mile down the beach. He had never gone to the area before, but since he needed a beverage of some sort, he headed over that way.
The sand seemed hotter in these parts and he basically hopped his way over to the steps leading up to a very tropical outdoor saloon. A lovely awning masked the sun but remained open to cater to the breeze.
A tall skinny bartender with an impressive tan stepped over to Howie's stool after he had sat down. "Yes,sir... what'll it be?"
"Ummm- what's the coldest thing you got?" He placed his headphones and walkman down next to him on the bar.
"Well, we have a lot of frozen drinks." The barkeep motioned towards a chalkboard that listed a wide assortment of drinks. Howie picked one that seemed appealing enough and turned his stool around so he cold watch the waters again.
"I've never seen you here." A voice said.
Howie knew the place was relatively empty, so the person must have been talking to him. He turned to see a shorter fellow with spiky hair and a silver necklace addressing him.
"No... uh... I was just walking this way for the first time."
"From which direction?" The cute beach bum asked.
Howie gestured down the way he had traveled. "I guess a few miles that way."
"Excersize?"
"No... relaxing mostly." He answered with a smile. A green drink was placed down by his seat and he turned to analyze it.
"I'm here every day after my shift as a bellboy ends in that hotel." He said with a nod towards two tall white buildings in the distance. "My name's Derek."
"Howie." He answered as he sipped his drink through a twisty straw. "How long have you lived here?"
Derek turned his stool more towards the bar and seemed to be contemplating that question with great resolve. "I'd say about 6 years. Give or take."
"It must be great to see this every day."
"No. Everyone thinks that. The truth is, it spoils you." Derek smiled. His white teeth were very noticeable against his sun-darkened skin. "I'd rather just vacation here and spend some extra time here... but my passion is to live in a big city. A place where its wall to wall buildings and there's never the sound of silence."
Howie began to laugh. "Well, I know about a zillion businessmen who would trade places with you."
There was a moment of silence as they looked at each other. Howie's smile faded and he turned back to the interesting kiwi drink before him.
"Well, I am afraid I have to run. I teach a jetski class every afternoon and I am running late as it is." Derek stood up.
Howie perked up at this. "You have some jet skis?" He asked.
"Yeah, I instruct how to use them and take some people out for a spin. You interested?"
Howie thought of how great he would feel above the waves. The urge to try it and to see what it was like couldn't be passed up. He nodded eagerly and looked out at the ocean.
"Well then let's go. I'll sit you in the front row!" Derek smiled.
Howie jumped to his feet, threw some money down for his drink and ran outside to catch up with Derek. Leaving the walkman and Brian's tape behind on the counter.
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Well I am sorry these only come out once a month. I will try to get them done as frequently as possible. My schedule is so hard. I am sure you all understand. Imagine if I was writing two stories! :) Contact me at BrwyDevil@AOL.com. Thanks, Kev.