Separate Lives

"What's past is prologue..."

Well, here I am again. I feel like I've already run a marathon. Three 50+ pagers in a row is a pretty big job. And yet I'm still going. I'm just a sucker for punishment, I guess. About this piece...it's kind of a step back. It moves, but not quite like the others. You'll get my meaning when you read it...I hope.

Once again, a big THANK YOU to everyone who's taken the time to both read this tedious work and let me know I'm not quite as insane as the voices say. I'm kidding. Really. Um...yeah...anyway, special thanks in order once again to JD, and an apology for my typo in the previous part.

Hey, it's fiction, mind, and I'm not intending to imply anything about the sexualities of the individuals mentioned herein. There's no sex in it, anyway. I think I'm going celibate.

Legal stuff: If you're not eighteen or you're offended by this stuff, the door is to your left. Don't let it hit you in the butt on the way out.

[Gallery, throwing stuff]: Shut up Chris! Get on with it!! [Chris, running for cover from flying missiles]: Okay, okay! Here...

Separate Lives Part III By Chris

Once again in the present...

It's getting dark out. So, I stand up and nudge Brian. As nice as it is to sit out here, we probably ought to be going. God, I'm still shaking from thinking about what happened during that time together in Orlando.

"You're shaking," Brian remarks, putting an arm casually around my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, I was just thinking about what happened in Orlando around Christmas and New Year's four years ago." I look toward the water and am comforted by the soft sounds of the water lapping up the beach.

"Ah. I was kind of thinking about that, too," he says quietly. "You know, we never really did talk about that much. I thought I had lost you forever."

"I did too," I say with a sigh. That's all I'm going to say. That had been a difficult time.

"We've got reservations in two hours," Brian says, picking up the pace again. It's our one-year anniversary today and we're going out to dinner.

"All right." I match his pace with ease. Being around him all the time, I've developed the ability to keep up with his short, quick strides.

We have a long walk ahead of us. It's almost four miles back to our house, so once again, I find myself thrown back forcibly to that time not so long ago...

Back to the past...

It was with considerable melancholy that I returned to my house. On the one hand, I was glad to be back, to finally get away from the heartache that had befallen me. On the other hand, I was alone again. Utterly and completely alone.

A wet tongue and big feet greeted me when I opened the front door. The funny thing about Max was that his feet and ears seemed to be growing twice as fast as the rest of him. I had to smile, though. Max was always my friend. One look into those brown puppy eyes and I knew I wasn't quite alone. He whined and barked a series of excited puppy barks.

"Hi, Max," I finally said. His tail was flagging back and forth as he jumped off me. I noticed that he was starting to take the coloring of his parents, finally. His back was black, but his legs and belly were a lot lighter than they had been. His ears, comically large, stood straight up and he cocked his head sideways in that endearingly curious way of his.

I threw my bags down on the couch and headed back outside. My neighbor, whom I'd paid to care for Max and Whiskey walked around to my car when he saw me. "Hi, Josh," he said nervously.

"Hey, Kyle," I answered tiredly. The kid was thirteen or fourteen and was just starting to grow up. He was about a head taller than me with that awkward adolescent look. His hair was sandy blond, but it looked greasy, much like his complexion that had already surrendered itself to the ravages of acne. His eyes were the insecure blue eyes of a teenager, constantly darting around, wondering what people thought about him.

"Um, how was your trip?" he asked.

"Long," I replied a little more curtly than I'd intended. I finally looked at him and realized that this wasn't just a social call. "Was there something you needed, Kyle?"

He took my sax case and nodded. I grabbed my violin case, slammed the trunk of my car shut, and headed toward the house. "Come on inside."

Reluctantly, he followed. "Something happened, Josh," he blurted, after I'd done little more than shut the door. "Whiskey. Whiskey got hit by a car a week ago and...and he's dead." He looked miserably at the carpet and waited for me to yell at him.

At that point, I was too emotionally exhausted to do more than nod dumbly. I sat down heavily on my couch and stared out the window. "How...how did it happen?"

Kyle's unhappy blue eyes threatened tears. "I let him out and-and a car was coming and...he got hit. I...watched it happen. I'm so sorry, Josh. I didn't mean to!"

"It's okay," I sighed.

"I...um, I buried him out in your yard. In the back by the old tree. Is that okay?"

"Mm-hmm." I wasn't really hearing what he said, but felt it prudent to say something. "Um, thanks for taking care of him, anyway."

Kyle nodded and moved slowly to the door. "I'm really sorry. If you want, I can give you your money back."

"Don't worry about it." I didn't care anymore. I just wanted the boy to leave me in peace. Finally, when I heard the door close, I burst into tears again, my face buried in my hands. Fucking traitor tears. I felt awful. Dammit, I loved that cat so much. Why did it have to happen? If I'd just stayed, none of the bad things that had happened would have.

Max jumped on the couch and nudged my cheek with his nose. Like a drowning man, I hugged that little dog close and just cried. I must have fallen asleep like that because the next thing I knew, it was dark out. Max was curled up right by my side. He looked up sleepily when I stood up.

I staggered into my bedroom and went to bed. Of course, I didn't sleep. I just kind of stayed in place, thinking, wondering, wishing I had stayed, but knowing that if I had, I would have been unhappy. I would have felt guilty for letting these kids down, for letting everyone here down. Maybe I had made the right decision, after all. Looking back, I saw that it wasn't all my fault. Brian had been selfish too. He'd displayed a 'now or never' attitude. What kind of choice was that? Not a very good one.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. What right did he have to make me give up everything I'd worked for? I mean, yes, I loved him. I wouldn't hide from that anymore. It was something I'd have to deal with for the rest of my life. He knew it, though. He knew it and he refused to wait for me. I would have gone to him, I realized. I would have quit the school and would have quite willingly gone to him. It wasn't good enough, obviously. Hmm... Maybe he didn't love me as much as I thought.

I glanced at the clock and saw it was around one in the morning. I didn't have class until Monday, and it was only Saturday; early Saturday, no less. I rolled over and tried to sleep, but thoughts of the vacation came flooding back. Overall, other than that last day and the hours before, it hadn't been that bad. I'd honestly enjoyed hanging out with all of those guys. And they'd liked it too. We'd gotten along like old friends, until Brian went and messed things up. God, things always got bad when we talked about getting together.

So what did that say about everything? Probably that we wouldn't be very happy together. Yeah, sure, Josh. With an irritated growl, I turned thoughts to other things and forced myself not to think about that anymore. Finally, finally I was able to sleep, but it wasn't a heavy sleep and it was plagued with dreams.

I got up at around five and headed downstairs to my computer. I had a whole load of e-mail waiting when I opened my mailbox. "Good lord," I mumbled, looking over the list. From the two weeks alone, I had over three dozen messages. But I had given my students my e-mail address and told them to keep in touch, so I guess it was my own fault.

The last message on the list was from an address I'd not seen before, so I opened it first. It turned out to be from Nick. It was short, but said, "Did you make it back alive? Drop us a line when you can." I hit my reply button and sent a brief affirmative before going on to check my other messages. All of them were from my kids, and they cheered me up, even the sadder ones. I answered each one, and that took some time. By the time I finished that, my wrists were aching faintly, but it was unimportant.

After I finished that, I stared for a long while at my computer screen. Finally, I opened up a new Microsoft Word document and watched the cursor flash in its rhythmic pattern, rather like the beat of a heart. I did like to write. I had a bunch of old stories that I'd written in my more lonely times. Like now.

"What do you want from me?" I asked the cursor. It didn't answer; just kept flashing with its maddening regularity. Suddenly, I knew. I leaned over the keys and began typing.

"I met a man," I wrote, "a good man, decent and funny. He wasn't like anyone I'd ever met before. He didn't demand, didn't ask too much of me; he just let me be who I was. He was a pretty famous man, but that almost never entered into it..."

Two hours, my eyes were burning with fatigue. I was surprised to realize that I'd typed almost a dozen pages. Usually, I was a plodder when I typed, but this time, the words just seemed to burst forth from some secret well. There was no real rhythm or rhyme to it. I just wrote whatever came to mind. It wasn't a story. Not really. There was one paragraph, which was odd, considering I was usually such a stickler for grammatical rules. This time, it didn't seem to matter.

It was just about the recent experience I'd had. The things I'd seen, the things I felt. And by no means was it finished. It was a work in progress, but I felt better for the telling. I clicked on the little 'save' icon and tried to think of an appropriate title. Ah. Without looking at my fingers, I typed 'Separate Lives' in the little box.

I spent the rest of the morning getting things unpacked and restringing my violin bow. After that, I walked out to the back yard with Max and went to the old tree. An area of the ground had been freshly cut up. I knelt in front of that patch and ran my hand over the dead grass. "You silly cat," I mumbled. "Poor Whiskey." This time, there were only a few tears, but they were more heartfelt than the ones from the night before.

Max sniffed the ground, whined sadly and nosed the ground before lying down next to the spot. It was as if he knew his friend wouldn't be coming back. The pair had been playmates. Even though Whiskey had been somewhat temperamental, Max's antics could always entice him to play. I sometimes suspected Whiskey acted moody just to get Max to start playing.

There was snow, but not much. It was just cold, mostly. The grass was stiff with frost. I could see my breath as I remained kneeling and staring at the spot where my cat had been buried. Finally, I said, "Sleep well, Whiskey." I blinked back the rest of my tears and then went into the house.

School was back on Monday. As I walked back into the drab building with its off-white and tan tiled floor, and tan lockers, I felt old. It seemed that an entire lifetime had passed since I'd last set foot in this building. It had been a while. The vacation had been longer than usual, but it just seemed like I had aged ten years.

In the mirror that morning, I'd seen a tired man. Dark circles under the melancholy dark blue eyes, black hair flat and lifeless, face haggard and old. I looked like I hadn't slept in months. I looked skinny. Now, I was never built, but I normally had some muscle definition in my stomach. Not anymore. I was skinny. My ribs showed pretty clearly. Had I been eating much? I couldn't remember, but it was troubling.

Back at school, the kids noticed right away. The first kid who walked in turned out to be one of my better students. She walked in, glanced at me, did a double take, and then sat down.

"Jeez, are you okay, Josh? You look sick."

"Uh, I'm okay," I said. "Just kind of had a long vacation."

"Party too much?"

"No." By that time, more kids had come in and were all looking at me with those expressions of concern. As soon as the bell rang, I kept my seat in front of everyone and just explained that I'd had a long, tiring break. That was all. Then I asked them what they'd done.

That night, I felt drained. I checked my e-mail, hoping for something from Brian or someone, and there was one from an address I didn't know again. This one was from AJ. It was short and didn't really say much. He'd gotten the address from Nick and had just set up a new box. He had signed it 'Bonehead.' That got me smiling.

A nightly ritual emerged over those next few days. I spent an hour each night checking e-mail and then adding a page or two to my ever- growing story. It was easy to find things to say. I was amazed because after that first long purging, I had thought it would be difficult to continue writing, but every night, I had plenty to say. It was shaping up to be a compilation of thoughts and feelings, along with the facts. Things that had occurred to me during the daytime. Not all of it had to do with what had happened between Brian and I. Some of it was my day-to-day experience, kind of like a journal. It helped me organize thoughts and put everything in perspective.

As the time passed, my loneliness eased. I finally was able to sleep well again and my thoughts of Brian grew more infrequent. It helped that I never got any e-mail from him. I did get messages about every other day from the other four. They were doing well, and I was happy. I never asked about Brian directly, but they always told me he was doing just fine. Well, good. He was moving on, just as I was.

At school, I pushed my students hard. I guess you could say that I'd changed a little. Things I'd tolerated before were no longer acceptable. This group was going to do well in the competition in Ireland, but they were all somewhat lax about practicing. That had to change. So I really laid into them. Too hard, really, because three weeks before the trip, there were students grumbling. I could hear it. They weren't happy being forced to work hard.

Finally, two weeks before we were scheduled to leave, two things happened: one, I snapped, and two, so did a pair of my students. We were working on the competition piece. It was a Wednesday morning, and I had a headache. I'd had one for about two days and their apathetic playing wasn't helping. It was like they didn't care anymore.

I jumped off the desk and yelled, "That's enough!" They stopped and looked down at me with mixed degrees of sullenness and irritation. "Good God, that was the worst one yet. What's going on, guys? Ask you for a little work and you act like you've never heard the word before." I paced restlessly back and forth across the room. "You're supposed to put feeling into it. All I hear is kids slacking through it to make a grade. If that's how you want it, fine. But it'll be your embarrassment in Ireland. Not mine."

Two students, the first and second chair trumpeters stood up from the back. The tallest one, a student who'd been giving me crap all year long, said, "Yeah, well, if you weren't such a drill sergeant, maybe we'd try a little harder. We've been working our asses off and all you can do is stand up there bitching about how we never practice. I practice for an hour everyday. I'm sick of all your bullshit bitching."

I looked at the young man with a slight respect. It took balls to stand up to a teacher. But that didn't stop me from saying, "I'll thank you to keep a civil tongue, Jarred. As for the rest, I'm disappointed, frankly. I try to teach you a little about commitment and all I get is flack. What do you know about hard work, Jarred? Why are you here? Are you here for a grade?"

The sixteen-year-old's hazel eyes cut over to his friend, who'd also stood up. "Why else would I be here?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," Tom, the other who'd stood up agreed. "This is a class after all. We're in school and we're here to learn, not to be treated like ants."

I almost fell backward laughing. "You're here to...to learn? Oh, that's rich. I wish I had that one on tape. I'd let all your other teachers hear it. A student actually admitting they're here to learn." After a minute, I sobered. "But you're right, you know. You're here to learn. So what are you doing then? You're not learning a damn thing. I'm trying to teach you a little discipline, but you aren't learning it."

"You're being unfair," Tom countered boldly. "You demand that we practice and then come here and be perfect all the time. We're burnt out, man. We've been doing these pieces for a month now, and it's hard to keep doing this over and over."

He had a point. "All right, all right," I sighed. "Fine. What do you want to do?"

"Well, can we have some new music?"

"Okay, yeah. I can do that," I said, recognizing that they did need a change. "Any requests?" Several were shouted out. "Okay. Here's the deal, lads and lasses, you have to keep practicing this old stuff, but in class, we'll just go over some other stuff. We'll do the old stuff two more times: at the end of the week this week and then next week. That okay?"

There were a few groans and a few smiles. Tom, who hadn't sat down, said, "Man, why do we have to do that? We know the stupid piece inside out and upside down, so why don't we just give it a rest until we get to Ireland? We can practice it once we're there. Just give it a rest."

"We're not perfect musicians, anyway," someone else piped up. "But we've gotten as good as we're going to get. So, let's just call it good and do something else."

I don't know why now, but for some reason that comment caused me to snap. "Oh, so you want to give up already," I growled. "Fine. Throw away that stupid piece of music. Screw it all! Hell, what does it matter?" My ire really rose. "You don't want to put any effort into it, fine. Well, then the trip's off, boys and girls." A mental image popped into mind: Brian, tears streaming down his face, begging me not to leave. Me walking away because I had "obligations". My sullen- faced obligations betraying me.

"Do you know what I gave up for you people?" I snarled. "Huh? Do you? I gave up a chance of a lifetime just because I felt responsibility to you. I gave up something and someone I loved just because I knew I had to come back here and finish what I started. And this is what I get? Fine. I don't care anymore. You don't want to practice, then don't. Just forget the whole stupid trip." I grabbed my jacket and walked out before anyone could so much as blink.

Tears streamed down my face as I walked out of the building. That was why I had to leave. I didn't want any of them to see me bawling like a baby, something I hadn't really done in a while.

It had been four months, give or take, since I'd gotten back from Orlando, and I was still haunted by that memory. That's the one that sometimes kept me up at nights. I would see that last glimpse over my shoulder: tears streaming down his face, asking me with his eyes to stay, his face pale and full of misery. Had I meant that much to him? It scared me to think I might have.

I walked. I walked for hours, not in any particular direction. The high school was on the west side of town, but it was semi-close to the middle. I walked somewhat northeast and then meandered toward the mountains. They were south of town, and for now, offered the best escape. Of course, they were also fifteen miles up, so it would be a long walk.

I'd probably get fired for that little stunt. You don't leave a classroom in the middle of a day after throwing a temper tantrum. Which is exactly what I did. Well, no hope for it now. If I got fired, I'd just have to look for a job somewhere else. Or would I? Did it even matter? I'd fucked up royally. Sure. And until now, I'd been able to fool myself into thinking I'd made the right decision.

The air was a little chilly, but it didn't really register as I passed by all the nice houses on the south side of town. Suddenly, I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned around. It was a bad idea to walk all the way up there. Hell, it was a bad idea to go up there, period. I walked the mile back to the school quickly and was soon in my car. Not a single person noticed my coming or going.

When I got back to my house, there was a message on my answering machine, predictably from Byron Moore, the XXL principal of Natrona County HS. "Um, Josh, call me as soon as you get this message, please. We need to talk about your conduct today."

"No shit, Sherlock," I muttered, erasing the message. Whoops...what message? I unhooked the machine and just plugged the phone into the wall. I didn't care if the phone rang, but I wasn't going to answer it. Neither was my machine. Not for a while. I had a lot of things I wanted to think about.

My thinking room was my studio, so of course, that's where I went. I threw myself down on my piano bench because that was the first thing I saw. I put my fingers on the mellow ivory keys of my black baby grand and softly started playing something that sounded like Beethoven's '9th Symphony' and low and behold that's what it was. I closed my eyes and let the music take me where it would.

'Brian,' I thought sorrowfully, 'I'm sorry. I thought I'd gotten over it, but I never did. I do still love you. I never stopped. I wish I had stayed. I thought...I thought I'd done the right thing. But I didn't. I know that now.' And God, boy howdy was I infatuated. I really was. I couldn't stop thinking about it as I sat there, couldn't move from the piano as the music became less formed and more my own. I pounded the hell out of those keys with my anger.

My mistakes. His mistakes. That was the name of the game. Mistakes. Should haves. I should have stayed. Or else he should have been willing to wait. I should have said something sooner. He should have backed off a little. My fingers walked over the keys faster. I let him get away. I loved him and I walked away. My mistake. God, what a mistake. But one I doubted I'd ever get a chance to right.

About an hour later, I quit. I'd made no headway and my hands were aching from the strain I'd put them under. My heart and head were still in knots, so I decided to go sit outside. Max followed along, hopefully wagging his tail and carrying a ragged old tennis ball in his mouth. We went out front and I tossed the ball for him, wincing as the doggy drool coated my hand. That was okay. I laughed at him when went after the ball so fast that he slid on the icy grass. He did at least half a dozen face-plants as he ran.

About the tenth time I threw the ball, it rolled onto the sidewalk. Max chased after it and barreled into a young man who'd been walking there. Both Max and the man went down. I hopped up from my front porch and sprinted over to where the man sat dazed on the sidewalk.

"Oh, gosh," I gasped breathlessly. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" I offered him a hand to pull him to his feet.

The man, who looked to be about my age, smiled and nodded as he accepted the hand. "I didn't even see him coming," he said in a quiet, rueful voice. He turned his dark brown eyes to where Max was sitting in the grass. "That's some dog. What's his name?"

"Max," I answered, sizing this guy up. He was about 5'7," clean cut, if not extraordinarily handsome. His hair was light brown, cut short and neat and trim, rather like the cut of his body. "I'm Josh," I added.

The man nodded. "Ah, the musician. When I walked by earlier, I could hear piano music coming from your basement. Sounded like...Beethoven? I'm Alex, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Alex. Yeah, earlier, I was pounding out Beethoven."

Alex smiled widely. His teeth were white and even, and his smile seemed to light up his face from the inside. "Thought so. I used to play piano as a kid, and he was always my favorite composer."

"Mm...I was always partial to Bach," I said. "Of course, I'm also a fan of Chopin and Mozart."

Alex leaned down and took the ball from Max and threw it across the lawn. "I live a couple of houses down from you. I just moved in about a month ago."

"Oh really?" This was starting to be an interesting conversation. "Where from?"

"Detroit."

I started laughing. "Wait, wait. You moved from Detroit Michigan to this toilet in the middle of nowhere?"

"That's about the size of it," Alex answered. "Um, say, you want to come back to my place for a while? I live alone, and it kind of gets lonely around here. I hardly know anyone, and I'm dying for some good gossip."

I blinked, momentarily taken aback by this man's forwardness. Wow. "Um, sure," I said. "Do you mind if Max tags along?"

"Nope. I've got a Boarder Collie who'd probably get along pretty well with him. Is he a German Shepherd?"

"Mm-hmm. He's not quite a year old yet." I followed Alex two doors down, slightly dazed myself. "So, uh, what would convince a man to come from Detroit to Wyoming?"

He opened the front door and led me inside. "Well, that's not a very long story, hold on a second. Let me go get my dog." Holy Christ! What a beautiful house. It was done in a southwestern motif, soft blues, greens, and tans. The whole place was warm and cheerful. There were cacti and other kinds of desert plants, some dried chili peppers, and paintings of old west scenes on the walls. The furniture was light blue and the tables were mellow and faintly gleaming in the light.

Alex grinned when he returned and saw me looking at the house. "You like it? I chose the décor myself."

"Yeah, I do," I said. "It's very...um, comfortable."

"I think so. I like it." A pretty brown and white long-haired Collie made her way into the room, walking with a refined and graceful air. "This is Lady. She's about a year old herself." The dog ignored me entirely and walked over to Max, where the two promptly started sniffing each other's asses. Both Alex and I started laughing.

"Yup, they'll get along just fine," I said, as the two started chasing each other around the room. I sat on the loveseat across from Alex and looked around the room once before looking at him again. "You really do have a nice place here."

"Thanks." He didn't say anything for a short while. Then, he asked, "So, like, have you lived here long?"

"Nope. I came here in November, right out of college."

"Where'd you go to school?"

My eyes narrowed just a bit. I didn't want to talk about this too much, and I hoped he wouldn't press too much. "Blackstone, Arizona."

"Oh. Well, I never went to college, but I got a job building computers and helping write programs when I was sixteen. That's what I've been doing most of my life. But I got kind of tired of that, so I moved out here and opened up my own computer store. It's called Computer Logic."

"Is that up at Hilltop?" I asked, thinking I'd seen that store already.

"Yeah, actually. That's my store."

"Hmm. How's business?"

"Not bad, for my first month. Made about a dozen sales already. I also do repairs and stuff. I've got a friend down in Denver who gets the parts for cheap. Do you have a computer?"

"Yep. I've got two."

"Really? What do you have in them?"

"AMD-K8's," I answered. "Top of the line. 256 megs of RAM, DVD in both, 25 gig hard drives. Did all that myself."

"Oh, really?" Alex looked slightly impressed. "You into the hacker stuff, too?"

"Not really," I said. "I just have a lot of free time on my hands. I bought those computers years ago, but I've been upgrading them periodically. The housing is two or three years old."

"Hum. Well, if you ever want to, I can do the upgrade for you. I mean, the K8's are about as advanced as they get right now, but they're coming out with the 8.2 here in a little while. Intel can't even come close. They're still trying to figure out how to make a 550 processor that won't crash out the system."

"How much does it matter?" I asked. "I haven't been able to see much of a difference between the K7 and the K8."

"It doesn't," he said. "Not much. It's only a little faster." He smiled and shrugged. Amusement lurked deeply in the depths of his dark brown eyes. "So what about you? What brought you to this place?"

"Teaching. I'm a music teacher."

"That sounds about right," Alex remarked. "About half the time I walk by your house, I hear some kind of music coming out of it. You, uh, been playing long?"

"Since I was five," I said.

"And you're how old now?"

"Twenty-five."

"Oh, wow. I'm twenty-four. I thought I was older than you."

I grinned and finally relaxed. "Probably just because I'm smaller than you."

"How tall are you, anyway?"

"Five three."

"Wow. You're a shrimp." His grin threatened to burn up his face; it was that bright. "But that's okay," he said quickly. "'Cause you've also got good looks, too."

Um, what did he mean by that? "Ah, thanks, I think." I glanced at my watch. It was three o'clock. Shit. "I gotta run," I said, standing up. "I have lessons to teach."

He stood up too. "Oh, okay. Well, it was nice talking to you, Josh. If you ever, you know, get bored, feel free to come on by."

"Thanks," I said. "Same deal goes for you."

His face relaxed. "Good. I'll probably be over everyday bugging you. I don't know anyone at all here. I wasn't kidding."

I shrugged. "That's fine. I'm usually home everyday. I teach lessons from three to seven Monday through Friday. Other than that, I'm pretty much around. Drop by whenever. Max, come on." I headed out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house.

My two students were there when I walked in. One of them happened to be from the class I'd walked out of, but she was also one that I liked a lot.

"Oh, hi, Josh," she said, sitting down at the piano bench. The other student had gone back into the computer room. "I wasn't sure you were going to be here."

I managed a smile. "It's been a long day, and even if I did walk out of that class, I won't walk out on these lessons."

Erin looked at me from behind thick glasses with her puzzling blue eyes. "What happened to you? I mean, I've never seen you so upset before."

I wrinkled my nose and then yawned. I didn't think I really wanted to answer that. "Oh, I don't know. I guess I just got tired of people whining about working. So I snapped."

"Did Mr. Moore call you? He said he was going to."

"I don't know. My, uh, my answering machine isn't working." Or it was unplugged, something like that.

"So...so what did you give up? I mean, to come back here?"

"Uhm, just...just someone I loved a lot," I answered quietly. "But I really don't want to talk about it." With a wry smile, I said, "I probably won't have a job tomorrow, you know."

"Oh, I don't think Mr. Moore will fire you."

"We'll see. So, what do you have for me this week?" After that, there were no more personal questions. Erin was a very talented musician. This was only her fourth year on piano, but she was better than a lot of kids her age who'd been playing for longer.

That night, after all of my lessons were finished, I finally called Byron Moore at home. He answered, "Hello?"

"Hello, sir. It's Josh Taylor."

He sounded both relieved and irritated. "Taylor, it's about time you called. What happened today? All your students told me was that you, uh, got very upset and then walked out."

"Did they say why?"

"It had something to do with the competition in two weeks," Moore answered cautiously. "None were very forthcoming with details."

I gave the voice on the other line the finger. I really hated that man, for some reason. "I assume, then, you want an explanation?"

He sounded tired. "Please."

I got formal. "Very well. Today, we were going over our competition piece and a couple of my students got defiant. They said they were tired of working on the piece day in and day out. When they said they were burnt out, I asked how to alleviate the problem. They suggested different pieces to work on for a while. I agreed, under the condition that they continue to practice the competition pieces. That was unacceptable, apparently.

"The kids said I was being a drill sergeant, which didn't bother me so much. I just told them I was trying to teach them a little about discipline and hard work. But they all wanted to quit. It really pissed me off. This kid, Tom Davis, just got to me."

I heard Moore sigh on the other end of the line. "Josh," he said, "I know you're a first year teacher, but you can't let things like that get to you. Kids are getting lazy and there's nothing you can do about it. I applaud you wanting to teach them discipline, but they don't want to hear it like that." There was a pause as he coughed. "Now, another student told me you said something about a sacrifice? She said you said, uh, something like 'Do you know what I gave up for you people.' What was that all about?"

None of your damn business. Sir. "Um, I'd really rather not talk about it, sir. It's a little too personal. Suffice it to say that over Christmas break, I had the chance of a lifetime and I walked away from it just to come back here and teach these kids."

"Josh, I really need to know, here."

"No you don't," I countered sharply. "My personal life is not your business."

"You're making it my business. You made it my business when you stomped off this afternoon."

"Fine," I snapped. "You want to know the truth? I had the chance to stay in Orlando and spend the rest of my life with someone I loved. They begged me to stay. But I couldn't. I had to come back up here. It was now or never. You know why? It's because the love of my life is a musician who's always on the road. It was stay then or lose them forever." I was being very careful not to divulge that the love of my life was a male.

"Who is it?"

"None of your damn business. Sir." I spoke my thought aloud before even realizing it.

"Okay, fine. You're a good teacher, Josh, you really are. It'd be a shame to lose you now, but if you don't resolve your personal issues, things aren't going to get easier."

I resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room. What a prick. "All right, look, get a sub for the rest of the week. I won't be there." Thank god I hadn't used any sick days.

"What about the trip to Ireland?"

"Forget about it." There was no desire to go anymore. "You can tell them we're not going. Or I will. It's no skin off my nose. No one's paid for it yet, and we can give the money back to the sponsors. It's no big deal."

Moore sounded angry. His breathing was becoming labored. Was he jacking off on the other end of the line? Ugh. The mere thought made me nauseous until I realized that he was just getting pissed. "Look, Taylor, you made the commitment. It may not seem like a big deal to you, but it is a big deal for those kids. They've worked for it."

"Yeah, fine, whatever," I muttered. This conversation was starting to get old. "Look, you take them, then. Or get Mr. Paulson to do it." Greg Paulson was the equally rotund assistant principal who had been band director the year before. I didn't like him either. He walked around with an awful holier-than-thou attitude that aggravated the hell out of me. But, he did know a thing or two about directing the band.

There was a long pause. "So, I'm given to understand you have no interest in accompanying the students, then."

Naw...really? "That's correct."

He cleared his throat. "Ah, well, I hate to tell you this, but you have no choice in the matter. Either you take those kids or you're going to lose your job at the end of the year."

'Oh, I'm so scared,' I thought with a sardonic grin. I threw myself down on the couch and closed my eyes. Okay, which was it going to be? The lady or the tiger? How much did I want to keep this job? Not very much, anymore. I just didn't care enough. But then again, at least it was a job. "What if I don't go and I quit right now?"

"That's your decision?"

"No, I was just checking out other options. You didn't give me much of a choice. Look, no matter what I decide, I'm taking the rest of the week to get my head straight. I don't want to have a repeat performance of what happened today." I sighed and shifted around on the couch. "I'll apologize for that, by the way. It was unprofessional, and I do feel bad about it." I didn't, not really, but it couldn't hurt.

"That's fine. In fact, I was going to suggest it anyway. Take the next couple of days, sort things out, and I'd like to have your decision Monday morning."

"All right." I hung up without waiting for a response. I opened my eyes into the darkness of my living room and then stood up. I could just barely make out the clock...eight-thirty. Time to go downstairs and add a few things to my ever-growing file. I had a lot of things I wanted to say tonight. I headed downstairs and put on a CD...Silverchair again: "Black Tangled Heart" started playing in the background.

Before I started writing, I checked my e-mail. There were six new messages. Four from students. Ah, one from David. Hadn't talked to him in a while. The last one almost caused me to stop breathing. It was Brian's address. Cripes, I hadn't heard from him since I'd gotten back. I sat for almost five minutes staring at the address, not quite daring to open the message. 'Hey, stranger!' the subject read.

Finally, I opened it. Before I even looked at the message, I just looked to see how long it was. Six long paragraphs.

"Hello Josh,

"Whussup? God, it's been so long since I've e-mailed you that I had to ask Kevin for your address. Pretty sad, huh? But I really wanted to hear from you. We're on the road right now. Nick tells me you usually check your e-mail around eight or nine. So by the time you get this, we'll be just getting up. We're in London right now. Just kicked off another European tour. None of the guys have mailed you lately, they say, so I just figured I'd do it. I've been avoiding it long enough.

"All I can say right now is that I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. It was like I knew I'd never see you again and I didn't want to lose you. I freaked. I hoped I could get you to stay if you could see what you meant to me. It was selfish and it was wrong, Josh. And I'm sorry. I've spent the last four months being sorry.

"When I asked you to stay, I could see you were torn. I could see you wanted to stay just as much as I wanted you to. But you were right, you know. You had that obligation to those kids and to your school. If you had just walked away, you probably wouldn't have been able to get another job teaching. I didn't see that, though. I just thought you didn't feel like I did. I just thought you were running away. But you did the right thing. It's just taken me this long to see it. And I'll say it again: I'm really sorry. I mean that.

"I've spent the last four months doing some real soul-searching. The guys told me once in a while what you were up to, you know. I never asked, though, and they said you didn't ever ask about me. I pray that doesn't mean you hate me, but if you're angry, it's understandable. My behavior was bad. I hurt you. I hurt me. You hurt yourself. And you hurt me. I know you didn't mean it, and it was mostly because I forced you to it.

"Anyway, how are things? How have you been, and what have you been up to? Me, I haven't done a whole lot. We're working on the new album, as you probably already know. It's scheduled to come out in mid July. The five of us had a hand in all of the songs on there. We played a lot of the backing music and stuff. I did the guitar on about half the songs. Both of our songs are on there and 'Life on the Back Streets' is going to be the first single, and it'll be out sometime during the beginning of July. We're almost done with the whole thing. Mostly all that's left is stuff we don't do-mixing and stuff like that.

"I guess I'd better go. I miss you, Josh. We all do. We're going to be touring from the end of July to October here in the States, but from June 10th til around July 20th, we're going to be kicking around here and up in New York. If you want to come down, you're more than welcome. We'd all like to see you again. I mean that. It's not just me.

"So long. Brian."

I reread the letter once, while wiping at the tears that had leaked out of the corners of my eyes. Once again, his timing was impeccable. Did he get some weird vibe that told him when I was ready to finally be over him? He just had this way of getting to me at the times when I was most vulnerable. Hell, why wait until summer? I'd fly to London tomorrow if I could.

I didn't start writing right away. As always, I wanted a chance to think about things a bit. I wanted to go to Florida. No doubt about it. And if I went, that meant I'd probably end up staying down there for good, because if I ever saw Brian again, I wouldn't let him get away. So, the job thing. Was it worth the hassle? Not really. Well, then, that was that. No more worrying about my job. Of course, I'd leave my stuff here when I went to Florida. Just because I loved the guy didn't mean I wanted to come off as desperate.

Did I love him? Yep. Definitely. Did he love me? I'd have to see. Hopefully, he still did. I clicked on the 'compose' tab and started writing, telling him what I'd been doing. I was very careful not to sound desperate or like I was really surprised he'd e-mailed me. That would be bad. I kept things casual, as things had been between us during Christmas, and didn't tell him about what had happened at school earlier. I didn't even really say much about New Year's. The only thing I said was that I had forgiven him. I had.

After I sent the message, I opened my journal, of sorts, and started writing. So far, since I'd created the thing, it was up to over a hundred pages. It was still a single paragraph and I had never taken the time to go back over it. Not once. I always went right to the end and started writing. I added eight pages in an hour and a half of work, and by that time, I was bawling so hard I couldn't see. The waterworks had started halfway through...about the time I got to, "and I really am going to go for it. I've hidden long enough, dammit. I love him and I'm not going to let him get away."

I made up my mind. I was going to tell fat-ass Moore to cram it. I didn't need the damn job anymore. I was sick of the kids whining and bitching anytime I asked for a little hard work. Sure, I'd made a commitment to them, and I thought I'd really found something I loved. But I didn't. Since I'd been back, I hadn't looked at the job in quite the same way. It lost its charm. I found myself not really caring, and that incident with Tom Davis just added more fuel to the fire.

I smiled and went to bed, after bringing Max into the house. God, he was almost a full-sized dog, now. But he was still my little bud and I didn't mind letting him sleep at the foot of the bed. Sleep came faster than it had in a long while.

The next day, I just kind of lounged around. I answered the rest of my e-mails from the night before. Ah, and there was another short one from Brian. It didn't really say too much, just that he was glad to have heard from me and that he didn't have much time. It still made me smile.

In the afternoon, I went for a long run around the valley with Max in tow. When I got back, I had enough time to take a quick shower and dress before lessons. About half these kids were in my band classes, but I refused to say anything to them about my plans. All I said was that I was okay and would be back on Monday.

After my last lesson, I was kind of bored and decided to see what Alex was doing. He was more than happy to have some company.

"Man," he sighed, as we sat down on the couch, just after I got in. "What a long day." His lithe form was clad in a light gray T-shirt and gray sweatpants with nothing on his feet. He was actually kind of cute.

"Ah, not for me," I said, grinning like a smart-ass. "I had the most relaxing day I've had in a long time."

"Really? Didn't you go to work?"

Ah, what the hell. I liked Alex pretty well. He was easy-going and relatively low-key, from what I'd seen so far. "Nah," I answered. "Yesterday, I kind of walked out in the middle of class, so I'm taking the rest of the week off."

Alex sat forward, looking at me intently. "Why'd you do that?"

"Got pissed," I answered. "The kids didn't want to put out any effort, so I just said screw it and walked out."

He grinned, dispelling the intensity in his eyes. "Do you still have a job, then?"

"For now, but I'm calling it quits at the end of the year. I'm sick of the principal. He's as round as he is tall and has no personality at all."

Alex nodded. "That's Byron Moore, right?"

Uh-oh. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Oh, I set up a computer for him a couple weeks ago. You're right. He was a fucking prick and he thought he knew more than he really did."

"Well, he's my boss," I said. "Imagine working for him day in and day out. I've never met a more self-righteous bastard in my life."

"Yeah, that's about right." He shook his head. "Anyway, so what are you doing during the day tomorrow, then?"

"Nothing, as far as I know."

"You want to come give me a hand at the shop tomorrow? I really need some help during the morning. It doesn't require more than you sitting up front and talking to people that come in. I'll take care of all the technical work." He looked at me with his big brown eyes and I couldn't help but smile.

"Man, you're sounding desperate. Aw, hell, I don't have anything better to do. When do you go in?"

"Nine. I'll come get you."

"I'll have to be back home by three. Got kids to teach."

He nodded, still smiling brightly. "That's okay because I just need you in the morning. Hey, I'll even treat you to lunch."

"Oh, now that seals it!" I crowed, laughing. "The fastest way to my heart is by offering me free food. You've just made a friend for life."

"Good," Alex said, but his tone was serious, as if my being his friend were very important. He brushed his fingers through his short brown hair a couple of times, effectively wrecking the neat part it had been in. It shot up oddly on the left side, reminding me of a mad scientist. "You know, I'm glad you stopped by. I was debating coming over tonight. I just kind of got bored."

"That's why I'm here," I said. "I was bored and figured maybe you could use the company." Or maybe I just wanted the company. Whatever.

"Uh, so..." he said, somewhat uncertainly, "why don't you tell me a little about yourself."

For the better part of the next two hours, we both traded life histories. I told him just a little about my past and where I'd been. Even if I had told Brian, that didn't mean I was ready to tell someone else. Besides, I loved and trusted Brian. I didn't even know this guy. Boy...where had I heard that before?

I didn't get back home until almost ten o'clock, but it didn't matter. The truth was that I had just made a friend. I liked Alex. He was funny and incredibly bright, aggressive and utterly unafraid to ask questions, but he was also relatively down-to-earth. He had a good head on his shoulders. And for someone who was twenty-four, he had a lot of life experience. Kind of like me, although he didn't know it.

When I got back to the house, I finished my rounds of e-mail and then went upstairs and went to bed. I slept fitfully, kept dreaming badly. I was dreaming that I was trying to get to Brian, but there was something...someone blocking the way and I couldn't get to him. Each time, I sat up in a sweat, almost knocking Max off the end of the bed. By three in the morning, I didn't want to sleep anymore, so I went into the living room and watched TV.

The dream was troubling because it was exactly the same, three times straight. I was in an airport in Orlando (didn't look much like the airport, but it was just one of those things where you know that's what it is) and I was running. Brian was on the other side. Someone or something always grabbed me and wouldn't let me go past. And someone, dressed in black, was sneaking up behind Brian, with a rope to strangle him. That's when it got bad. I had to save him but I couldn't shout, couldn't move. Three times I had this dream, and each time, I watched the person in black get the rope around Brian's neck. But I woke up right after.

As I sat on the couch, the dream wore off, and little by little, I felt better. It was just a dream, after all. So, by six, I was back to my old self again. I felt good. I really did. Even though I did have something to do in a few hours, it was nice to know that I didn't have to go to school. I could relax and take it easy, when I was usually scurrying around to get ready.

The whole day turned out to be really pleasant, actually. Alex came and got me at eight, and we grabbed a quick breakfast before heading to his store. The reason he needed a hand became abundantly clear when I walked into the back room. Four computers sat disassembled on the benches. He needed to get them fixed and put back together by noon. So I had to man the front while he worked as fast as he could.

It didn't pose much of a problem. Three people came in, one older gent who was looking for a nice, user-friendly computer for his grandson. I told him that Alex could custom-build one for him, and gave him a ballpark figure. The gent was impressed and said he'd come back by on Saturday morning. The next was a young lady with just a quick question. Had to get Alex to handle that one, but he was able to answer the question. After he went in back, the woman ended up buying a new joystick, mouse, and ordered a new monitor. Later, around noon, another young woman came into the store and proceeded to flirt with me. I played along for a while, but grew tired of the sport and asked her what she needed. She wanted to buy a new computer. So, I made another pitch and another sale. She also made an appointment for Saturday, and the pouted when I turned her down for a date.

"God," Alex commented, as we sat at Sanford's, a nice, very hip restaurant in downtown Casper, "you really ought to come into business for me. That's good money in the bank."

"Well, it wasn't any trouble at all."

"So, you want to come in tomorrow and follow up on your sales? That woman will probably be more receptive if you're there." He grinned. "Why'd you turn her down, anyway? She's gorgeous, and she really wanted you bad."

"Hey! I thought you were working back there!" I hadn't known he'd been spying on me.

"I was, I was," he said. "But I peeked around the corner once in a while. I just wanted to see what she looked like. Oh, mama, what a set of legs. And that's not your type? What is your type, then?"

'Well, a man who looks a little like you,' I thought with a wise-ass grin, 'but can sing and has incredible eyes.' Clearing my throat, I looked over the old license plates and sports memorabilia that decorated the wall. I didn't think it was a good idea to say anything about being gay. "Hmm...I guess, someone I know well. I try to make it a habit not to date people I'm not friends with first." Brian being the only exception, of course. It really hadn't been a date, though.

"Oh," was all Alex said. After a while, he asked, "Well, what kind of a woman do you like, though? I mean, after you get to know them?" Something a little odd about that question.

"Mm...well, I like them intelligent, funny, not too much taller, a little shy. I like a personality. I don't like shallow guys that well and I don't like liars." Oh my god. Open mouth, insert foot. Shallow guys? Narf. Well, I guess that cat was out of the bag...er, the closet. Sometimes I am really stupid.

Alex was right on top of that one. His eyes were wide and direct. "Guys? Did you say shallow guys? You trying to tell me something, Josh?"

Aw, hell, screw it. If he was going to be my friend, this was just something he'd have to accept. "Guess so," I sighed. "I'm gay." There. It was always kind of an odd experience to tell someone that.

He didn't say anything for a long moment. Then a slow smile spread over his lips. "Really? You're gay?" He was quiet enough, but a few people looked over to our table. I nodded and smiled. "Really? Wow."

Why in the world did I always get that reaction? Was it that hard to believe? "Yes, really," I said.

"Oh. Wow. Wow."

Rrf. How irritating. "Are you okay?"

He roused himself with an apologetic smile. "Me? Fine. It was just a bit of a surprise. Didn't expect it. That's all."

"You want to know something funny?" I asked.

"What's that?"

"Everyone says that when they find out, or when I tell them."

He shrugged and took a bite of his potato salad. "You look like a poster boy for Pimps-R-Us," he said. "I'm not kidding. Just walking down the street with you, I see women stop and stare. I hate you for that very reason, you know."

"Oh, thanks. Should I wear a sign that says I'm gay and off-limits?" I just loved spirited conversation.

"It'd help." His brown eyes got quiet, serious. "So...you're...are you taken?"

"Why? You interested?" That was said in jest, but all of a sudden, I knew, just knew, call it gaydar, intuition, whatever, I knew that he was gay too. It was the first time in my life I'd ever experienced anything quite like that.

"Uhm...no," he said lamely, lying through his teeth.

"Now, now, I told you. I don't like liars."

His eyes, which had been fixed down on his plate, snapped up to mine, gauging my degree of seriousness. "You...you know? How?"

"Just a hunch."

"I-I...oh. Well I am."

"'S okay," I said. "Last I checked, it wasn't a crime. Don't worry about it."

He relaxed again and smiled, although his cheeks were bright red. "So...are you taken?"

"Yep." Well, not officially, but I would be soon enough.

The air went out of his sails quickly, and I felt sorry for him. "Figures. Seems like every time I meet someone I like, they're taken."

"I'm sorry. You want me to go make myself single?"

"Would you?"

"Probably not."

"Oh. So is it anyone I know?"

"I don't know. He doesn't live here, though."

"Where's he live?"

"Orlando. I'm moving down there this summer. I'm quitting the school and going to spend five or six weeks down there, come back up, and then leave for good."

"Lucky bastard."

"Who me?"

"No, your boyfriend. You known him long?"

"Oh, about seven or eight months. I met him in Arizona, spent a day with him, and then spent a couple of weeks in Orlando with him over Christmas. We e-mailed each other all the time, got to know each other better, and so I'm going to live with him." I hoped.

"What's his name?"

"Brian."

"Brian who?"

Hmm...better be careful with that one. People didn't need to know about this. Especially when it still might never come to be. "Thompson," I answered, after a moment.

"You meet in college or something?"

God, he was nosy. Maybe he just didn't believe it. "Not really. He was passing through town...well, with his group. He's a musician and I went to their performance with a friend of mine. We got to go backstage and he and I just...hit it off. We spent that night together, writing a song, and the next day, the whole group wrote a song with me. Then they left. A couple of months later, they invited me down to Orlando and I ended up staying with Brian. We really hit it off. So we're going to, uh, get together this summer." My eyes went a bit misty.

"Aw, how cute," Alex cooed. "You're lucky. I've been oh for my life with relationships. Haven't had one that lasted."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He sighed. "So, you coming to work with me tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Cool."

The bill came and he paid and then took me home. It was almost two when we got back. He thanked me profusely and then took off for the shop again. It didn't usually happen that way; finding gays, I mean. Contrary to popular belief, we aren't that numerous. You don't usually run gay people in such a random manner. I'd just gotten lucky. Very lucky.

On Saturday, I went back in and helped Alex. We got the two people set up with computers, and we talked some more. I stayed in the back with him and gave him a hand fixing up the last of the computers. Afterward, we went out to lunch again, my treat, and then caught a movie in the afternoon.

Sunday, I got caught up on all my work. I didn't go out and I didn't see Alex at all. I finalized my decision. I was going to quit. So I wouldn't be going to Ireland. That was quite fine. Did I care? Hell no. I put it in writing, even.

Monday, I walked into Fat Head's office and slapped the paper on his desk, signed, sealed, and delivered. "Here you are, sir," I said.

"What's this?"

"My resignation. At the end of the year, I'm quitting."

"So...no Ireland?"

"No, sir."

He leaned back in his chair (I swear the poor chair was screaming in pain), and looked at me very carefully through his coke-bottle glasses. His eyes were huge, dark, and angry. He'd expected complacency, no doubt. Too bad I wasn't going to give it to him. "I'm very disappointed in you, Mr. Taylor. You did have a bright career ahead of you. This is going to be a very permanent stain. Might make it difficult for you to get a job in the future."

That was supposed to scare me? You know, the world is full of assholes. Here was the "super King-Kong Maya-Maya" (too much 'South Park') asshole. I mean, really. I guess I brought some of it on myself by backing out of my commitment, but did he really think he was kidding anyone with that shtick? Certainly not me. Frankly, I didn't give a flying leap. So, I just shrugged and walked out.

Things were different for the rest of the time I was the teacher. Although I still put effort into the work, I was a lot more relaxed than I had been. I let the kids pick whatever they wanted to play and didn't really harp on practicing. In the end, Greg Paulson, the ex- band teacher turned assistant principal, took the band to Ireland. No one asked why I didn't take them, and they did respectably well, so there was no animosity.

Each night, I'd e-mail the guys, who were still on the road. I finally told Brian that I wanted to meet them down in Orlando around mid June, and he was glad to hear it. He said everyone would be quite welcoming. I didn't tell him how I felt, though. No, I'd save that for when I got there, and I could tell him to his face. No doubt, no confusion, no mistakes.

Alex and I got to be good friends. Saturday mornings I spent up at his store, giving him whatever help he needed. He was always quite welcoming, and since he knew I was taken, he kept within the bounds of simple friendship, which was perfect. I had never had a friend quite like him before. But he was someone I could talk to and could relate to, and since there was very little sexual tension between us, we got to be almost best friends right away.

May 16th was a day I will never forget. I woke up early, as I had been doing quite a bit lately; tossed from dreams that bordered on nightmares. It was the same dream as before, with minor variations. This time, it was a park instead of the airport, but it ended the same: me waking up just before whatever was attacking Brian could kill him.

That morning, I woke up around three forty-five. I wiped the sweat off my face with trembling fingers. There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, which I just assumed came from the dream. So, I made my way blearily out into the living room, flopped down on the couch, and turned on the TV. It was becoming a morning ritual anymore to watch MTV to see if there was anything about the BSB on the news.

Normally, there were videos playing. It was their 'After Hours' show. This morning, however, when I turned to MTV, the first thing I saw was an aerial shot of what looked like a wreck. A bus...a big silver one lay on its side, and the side that was up was almost bent in half by a massive dent. There was glass everywhere. A blue semi blocked the road, with its front end smashed all to hell. Looked like the semi center-punched the bus at high speed. There were police and ambulances all over the place.

As I turned up the volume, I heard Kurt Loder's voice. "So far, the death count stands at three: the driver of the semi, plus Tom Smith and Billy Chapin, the Backstreet Boys' touring keyboardist and guitarist. The rest of the Boys' band, sustained serious injuries, but all are in stable condition. The Boys' management has postponed the remaining seven dates of the European tour and will make a more formal statement this afternoon."

I didn't hear anything after that. I felt awful. I'd gotten a chance to meet those guys when we were all in Orlando. Each one of them had been very friendly and quite nice. How? How could this have happened? I felt bad for Kevin, Howie, Nick, AJ, and Brian, and I wondered how they were taking it. They'd been close to their band. How awful for this to have happened.

I ran down to my computer quickly and checked my e-mail. Even if there wasn't anything there, which is what I expected, I'd still send them a quick message to let them know I'd heard and they had my sympathy. But, there was a note already there.

"Josh,

"If you haven't heard by now, there was an accident early this morning. A man in a semi ran a stop sign and crashed into the bus carrying our band. Tom Smith and Billy Chapin have been killed, and the rest are in a hospital. They're all right, thank God, as are we, but we are taking this loss hard. We were all very tight, as you know.

"There is another reason, however, that we're sending this to you. We realize you're tied down with your obligations to your students, but is there any way you could come down here early? As soon as possible would be best. We, as a group, would really like to have you down here during our time of loss.

"Thanks, and we'll see you as soon as you can get here.

"AJ, Brian, Howie, Kevin, and Nick"

The formality of the language struck me from the start. Normally anything I got from them was very informal, loose. Then again, after what had happened, I didn't blame them. Sure, I'd go. At the end of this week, I'd just go to Moore and quit early. Thank God school was done a week from this Friday anyway. I would hardly be missing anything.

I clicked on the 'reply' tab and wrote them a short letter expressing my condolences and sorrow for their loss, and then telling them that I would be down either Friday or Saturday, depending on when I could get the flight. That, I would have to do during lunch. There was a travel agency a few blocks down from the school, and since they'd been able to get me to Florida during Christmas, I bet they could do it now.

Before school, I went into the main office and talked to Mr. Moore, who was more than happy to grant me leave for the rest of the year. One down, one to go. At lunch, I walked down to Westside Travel and was able to get a flight Friday afternoon. I'd take off around four Friday and I didn't know when I'd be back.

That night, I popped by Alex's house. "Hey," I said, walking inside.

"Hi. What's up?" He was dressed down, comfortable in sweats. I looked almost out of place in my slacks and dress shirt.

"I need a couple of favors," I answered, taking a seat on his couch. "I'm going to Orlando early."

"Oh-kay," he answered slowly. "When are you leaving?"

"Friday afternoon. That's one of the favors I need. I honestly don't know how long I'm going to be down there and I don't particularly want to leave my car down there. So, can you give me a ride to the airport?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, sure. What time?"

"Well, I'd like to just meet you here around three." I hoped he wouldn't be mad that I was asking him to close the shop for a while in the middle of the day.

But he smiled and nodded again. "I can do that. What was your other request?"

Breathing a sigh of relief, I sat back on the couch. "Max. I can't take him with me...and I was just wondering if you'd, uh, watch him for me. I can pay you, if you want."

"Nah, you don't owe me anything. I owe you for the work you've done up at my shop. But I'd be glad to take care of your dog. He and Lady are friends."

I chuckled. "She spayed?"

"Oh yes. Got that done a while ago, so Max can stay here and I don't have to worry about it."

"Okay, thanks."

He nodded again. "That all?"

"Yep."

"No problem." He sighed and glanced out his front window. There wasn't much light out, now. "So...um, why are you going so early? I thought you weren't going for another month or so."

Okay, well...here was an interesting question. Why was I going early? All right, so maybe asking Alex to help me out hadn't been such a good idea after all. "Um, well," I started, wildly fishing for an answer, "I just...uh...well..." I sighed. Nothing came to mind.

"What's wrong? Don't want to tell me?"

Something loosened in my chest. "That's about the size of it."

"Why?"

"I, um, why are you so nosy?" I asked, with a touch of asperity.

"What are you hiding from me?" he countered.

"Just drop it, okay? Something has come up and he asked me to come down early."

"Okay, okay," he said, putting up placating hands. "Don't get your shorts in a twist. I get it. There are things you can't tell me."

"Right."

"That's fine." He smiled and flipped on the TV, and it came up on MTV. MTV News was showing, and Kurt Loder was talking. "...no plans to delay the release of their third album, 'Run Around.' The Backstreet Boys have returned to Orlando, now, and according to their management will return to finish the final seven dates of their European tour in June. That's the news for now..."

I tuned out the rest. 'Say What? Karaoke' was on, but I only watched it for a moment. After a moment, Alex changed channels and found a Colorado Rockies' baseball game. He looked my direction. "What happened to the Backstreet Boys?"

"Hmm? Oh, there was some kind of wreck, or something. I caught the tail end of it on the news this morning. One of their two buses got hit by a semi and two of their band members died." I still felt really bad about that. I'd spent the better part of the day thinking about it.

"That's too bad," he said quietly. "You know, I hate to admit this, but I'm kind of a fan. I like their sound."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Don't tell anyone."

"Who would I tell?" Besides the Backstreet Boys themselves? I had to turn my face away to hide the smile that had surfaced.

"Hey, what are you smiling about?"

Damn. "Nothing."

"Liar."

"Think what you wish."

"You know," he said slowly, "it's kind of strange timing. There was a big wreck, the Backstreet Boys are back in Orlando, and all of a sudden, someone lights a fire under your ass to get you down to that very place. Coincidence?" He was joking because just as he said that last, he smiled widely.

"Yes," I said firmly.

"Really?"

"Yup. Strange but true."

"And you're dating a guy named Brian? They have a guy named Brian in their group. Brian Thomas Littrell, if I'm not mistaken, who is also a musician." Okay, maybe he wasn't joking. I told you he was a bright one. He saw connections faster than anyone I had ever known before.

"Yeah? So?" I still played it cool.

"It's a remarkable coincidence. That's all," he said. For a while, we just watched the Rockies get the crap pounded out of them by San Francisco. By the bottom of the 5th, it was 7-0, Giants. "This team is lousy," he sighed.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I'm a Yankees fan, myself."

"Really? I've always been partial to the Tigers, being as I'm from Detroit."

"There's another lousy team," I teased.

"Think what you will," he mocked, tossing a pillow at me. I threw it back, and quickly, it turned into a noisy pillow fight. Who says grown men can't have fun now and again?

I left not long after that, panting and hurting where a zipper had hit my eye. Now that had been a unique experience. I hadn't done that since I was a little kid. I really was glad I got to know Alex, even for a little while.

The rest of the week flew by, and Friday, after a quick farewell to Max and Alex, I was on the plane. I had a quick little jump to DIA, and then from DIA out to Orlando International. That flight seemed to drag on for hours. It was after dark when we finally touched down, and I was very tired.

Things were relatively calm inside the large terminal when I got off and headed over to get my bags. After I found them, I turned around to look for my ride. I expected Brian, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Howie and Kevin came over when they saw me.

I frowned when I saw them. Neither looked like he'd slept in a few days. "Jeez, guys, it's good to see you," I said quietly, as they took my bags, "but you look like hell."

"It's been a long week," Howie answered. "It's good to see you again, Josh."

"Sure is," Kevin agreed. "How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, fighting with the fat-head asshole who runs the high school. I quit. I didn't tell Brian that, but I quit back in April." Where was Brian? I wondered, but couldn't bring myself to ask.

Kevin and Howie exchanged glances. "That's too bad," Kevin murmured.

"I'm glad, actually," I said with a shrug. "Anyway, there's plenty of time for that later. How are you guys holding up?"

We'd arrived at Kevin's car. After throwing the bags in the back, we climbed in. "Well," Howie said, once we were settled in, "we've been better."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, well, management is forcing us to get over it," Kevin said, sounding just a little angry. "We have to get over it very quickly."

"I heard you had to get back on the road in just a week or ten days," I said sympathetically. "I thought that was pushing it a bit."

Kevin nodded, as he pulled out into traffic. "We're meeting everyone over at Brian's." He exchanged another look with Howie. What was going on? "Anyway, yeah, we think they're pushing it a bit, too, but we have the next week or two off. That's why we wanted you here ASAP."

"We?"

"Mm-hmm. Here's the thing: we're putting together a new band, temporarily. When the rest of our guys get out of the hospital, they're going to rejoin us. Fortunately, none of them were really hurt that badly. The worst was Tim, who got a broken leg and three cracked ribs." He sighed sadly. "Except Tommy and Billy."

"Yeah," Howie took over, "and that's why you're here. We're kind of hoping you'd be willing to come with us and finish up Europe."

I didn't say anything immediately. Oh. Well, that answered that question. I was surprised, although I should have seen this coming from a mile away. What a cool idea, though. "Uhm, well, I...I'd be willing to do it," I said. What else did I have to do?

"Very cool," Howie said, but he was a bit subdued. "We're meeting with management tomorrow to talk about this. They've brought in a new drummer and bassist already."

"Ah." I sighed and sat back to watch the light kaleidoscope fly by again. I really did love looking at the lights, watching them as they blurred by, different colors and sizes. Big white lights, like small stars, red and green changelings from stoplights, window lights, all blurring into a cacophony of sound in my mind.

I didn't zone out this time. No, I was quite awake when we finally pulled into Brian's driveway. The front door popped open just as I stepped outside, and before I could even move, I was being wrapped up by two people at once. Both AJ and Brian had come outside and had caught me.

"Ugh, damn!" I gasped. "Guys, I love you both, but you're going to have to let me go before you suffocate me."

One set of arms dropped, but the other stayed. I turned my head, and saw Brian still standing right by me, looking down and smiling. I turned my head quickly to glance at the others. They had stopped and were staring at us. What in the fuck was going on?

"Brian, let me go," I said quietly, not liking their looks. Were they offended by this display or something?

He did, and stepped away, still smiling. "It's good to see you again, Kid."

"Thanks, thanks. I'm just happy to be here." The others had grabbed my bags and we all headed into the house.

Nick was sitting in front of the TV playing a videogame. Of course. He was a gaming freak. Like I used to be. He did pause it, though, and turned around to smile when I walked in. "Hi."

"Hi?" I teased. "You know, I quit my job so I could come out here to see you, and all I get is 'hi'? C'mon, Nick, I thought you were better than that."

He stood up and gave me a sheepish grin and then a hug. "Better?" he asked. He'd gotten his hair cut short again, and this time it didn't get me in the face.

"I'm still insulted that you didn't put that damn game on pause long enough to come see me outside." I winked and clapped his shoulder. "Ah, don't worry about it. It's good to see you. You can go back to your game now." He shrugged and went to turn it off.

"Did you really quit your job?" Brian asked from behind me.

I nodded. "Back in April."

"Why?"

"Oh, things just weren't working out. I was sick of those whiny little brats bitching about a little hard work, and I snapped. I told you about that already. I just didn't tell you that I turned in my resignation the Monday following that incident. I agreed to work for the rest of the year and that was it." I shrugged. "The principal was a prick. What can I say?"

"That's too bad. You were getting along so well at the beginning, too." His eyes and tone had hardened a bit when he said that. "Anyway, did D and Kev explain things to you?"

"Yep. I've already agreed to help you out. Again."

He smiled brightly. "Good. You look beat."

"You guys all look like hell," I countered. They all looked like they hadn't slept in a while. "How are you holding up?"

"Okay," AJ answered soberly. I noticed he wasn't wearing shades. How unusual. His hair more than made up for it: it was braided and purple, long down the back. "It's just tough. They're forcing us back onto the road in like ten days."

"So I heard," I nodded. "Can't you just tell them you won't be ready?"

He shook his head. "Nope. The show must go on."

"Oh yes," Brian agreed, with a faint touch of bitterness. "I certainly know a thing or two about that. It always has to go on."

"I'm really sorry," I said. It was all I could think of to say, but it was enough. They smiled and we all went to sit down.

The others didn't stay long. They were all pretty tired, and even as were talking, I kept trying to doze off. I hadn't slept much Thursday night. About an hour after I got there, all four of them took off. Kevin shot a couple of words to his cousin that I didn't catch, but Brian frowned when he heard them.

Once we were alone, I was nervous. I wanted to tell him what I hadn't said, but I wondered if this was the right time. But apparently he'd been waiting for the chance to talk to me alone because when the door closed, he came back upstairs with a very serious expression on his face.

"Finally," he muttered. "Look, I know you're tired, but we need to talk, okay?"

"Probably be a good idea," I said, looking at him carefully. He hadn't changed much, except that he needed a haircut badly. His hair was darker and really shaggy. His was the kind of hair that got curlier as it got longer. It was really messy-looking, too. "Dude, you need a haircut."

"Yeah, I know," he sighed, taking a seat on his couch. "Look, uh, there's something that I've been meaning to tell you for a while-"

"Hold on," I interrupted. "Let me go first. I've been waiting...a long time to say what I want to say. I wanted to tell you to your face." I cleared my throat and looked at him, but he wasn't looking my way. "Look at me." When he finally did, all I could say was, "I love you, and...and I...want to be with you."

At those words, his eyes flew open. "I-I, um, oh," he said weakly, and then looked away. His eyes closed and a fleeting look of pain crossed his face. "You, uh, you should have let me go first. I, um, I don't know how to...to tell you this, but...but I've, um, I've been...seeing someone for the last three months. We're...we're pretty serious."

"Been...? Oh," was about all I could manage. I was utterly numb. "Right." I remembered once thinking I was lucky. I remembered once thinking I had found someone I could really trust. I remembered once thinking I was in love. God, I was a sucker. For a long moment, I just sat staring at nothing.

"Josh," Brian said quietly, "look at me." I wouldn't, couldn't. "Look at me, Josh. Please?" I did, finally. His blue eyes were brimming with tears. "I'm sorry. I...I thought you...you were still...upset with me for what I did to you. You never said anything in your e-mails, and I just met this guy before we left..." He looked truly miserable.

"I just...I didn't want you to read it," I whispered. "I wanted to tell you myself." With a shrug, I yawned and stood up. "Well, ah, I guess I'm going to bed. I'll, uh...I'll see you in the morning."

He stood up and put a tentative hand on my shoulder, which I brushed off. "Josh..."

"Don't," I said. "Just don't." I was still numb as I turned to walk toward my room. No wonder he hadn't wanted to come pick me up by himself. Before I got all the way into the hallway, I looked back over my shoulder. "Do you love him?" I asked softly.

Brian's face was a study in pure misery, but he nodded. "I-I...um...yeah."

"Good," I said with a weak smile, and went into my room. Only when the door was firmly shut did I let my walls crack. I sagged against the door, but I didn't cry. I was just too numb to cry. I was hurting like I'd never hurt before. It was like...it was like what had happened on New Year's Eve only about a hundred times worse. But I couldn't cry.

I made it to the bed and buried my face in my pillow and silently wished to die. My heart had been shattered. I'd come here expecting to finally have a shot at being happy. And why not? The last time I was here, I had that chance. Brian hadn't said anything about it. It was my mistake, again. I should have said something. God, why was I so stupid? Why would he ever want someone like me, anyway? I didn't know what I wanted anymore.

That night, I didn't sleep. The better part of the night I spent awake, staring at the ceiling with dry and aching eyes. I felt awful. How was I going to stay? He was the whole reason I'd come down here in the first place, and the whole reason I'd agreed to even do this Europe thing. Well, I could probably get out of that. But then again, that wasn't really fair to the other guys. They wanted me to go. I guess I should. I didn't have to hang around Brian anyway.

As the morning rolled around, I was still wide awake. At six, I got up and quietly made my way to the bathroom attached to my room. When I flipped on the light, I blinked owlishly and then stepped in front of the mirror. With a grimace, I took in the pale specter in front of me. Red-rimmed, bloodshot blue eyes, ghostly pale complexion, dark bags under the eyes. I looked like hell. I felt like hell. A headache settled just in front of my right temple. Yeah, it was going to be a great day.

After a quick shower, I dressed and then went out into the living room. Brian was already up, sitting on the couch, watching TV. He turned when I walked in, and then did a quick double take. I pretended not to notice. "Did I wake you?" I asked, taking a seat.

"No," he sighed. "I was already up."

"Oh. Couldn't you sleep?"

He shook his head, blue eyes unusually dark and troubled. "I feel really bad."

I started gnawing on my lower lip. "Don't worry about it."

"Well, I don't want there to be a thing between us."

'Don't you get it?' I thought with a touch of anger. 'There's always been a thing between us. There will probably always be a thing between us.' "Brian, don't worry about it, okay? I don't hate you and I don't blame you."

"You look like you didn't sleep much last night, either," he commented. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like hell."

No shit, Sherlock. "How do you think you'd feel?" I asked softly, and then shook it off. "So, do I get to meet him before we take off?"

He smiled just then, in that sickeningly love struck that seemed to cause the bile to surge into my throat. "He's coming by this morning to meet you, and he's coming to lunch. He's also joining us on tour."

"Does he have a name?"

"I didn't tell you?"

"No."

"His name's Jeremiah. Jer for short."

"Ah." Although I didn't want to hear it, I asked, "How'd you meet?"

"You don't want to hear that, do you?" He looked a little apprehensive, and I knew why, too. He was afraid I'd fly off into a jealous rage and do something I'd regret later.

Obviously he didn't know me as well as the thought. "Do you remember what Leighanne said to you when you told her you were gay? She said she wasn't going to go psycho with jealousy and that she wanted to be your friend. Same here. Okay, so it's a little different. But I'm pretty tough. I'll survive." I grinned just then. "I'm not going to sit here pining for you, you know."

That actually seemed to deflate him a little. I imagined he was hoping that I would always be hopelessly in love with him so that he could keep me for a backup. Not bloody likely. So the love of my life didn't want me anymore. So what? There were a lot more fish in the sea. 'Mm-hmm. Just keep telling yourself that, Josh.' Boy, that felt wrong.

He cleared his throat and shifted a little. "Uhm...oh. Well...so you're okay with this?"

"Honestly? No, but I'll get over it. I promise. I'm not going to get all weirded out. Truthfully, I'm a bit more chagrinned than upset." I was lying through my teeth, but I had made a decision not to show him how hurt I really was. "If you're happy, then that's great." Those words felt as if they were torn from my throat.

Brian relaxed, a measure of relief loosening the trouble in his eyes. "You're, uh, you're certainly taking this a lot better than I thought you would. Last night, I couldn't sleep because I was so worried that you'd hate me." He sighed. "You know, we really should talk a little more. Can we?"

"Yeah, why not." Drained and tired, I didn't have the energy to argue.

"Thank you. I want...I want to talk to you about Jeremiah. If-if you don't want to hear it, that's okay, but I want you to understand so maybe you don't feel so bad."

Good lord, it was hard enough to sit there in the same room certain that I'd always be alone. Did I really want to hear this? Reluctantly, I nodded. "I think you owe me that much, at least."

"Fair enough." His earnest blue eyes, vivid and full of an almost guilty relief, locked with mine, which I knew were full of my deep- seated unhappiness. "He lives in Orlando, but he's originally from Denver. He moved down here with his parents, when he was sixteen. We're a lot alike. I met him when I went to church one morning. He was there, and we just kind of...clicked. I mean, he's smart and charming, and I think you'll get along pretty well. He's a musician, too. He plays bass, and our management has picked him up to finish off the tour with us."

He paused and went to the front window. "We're all meeting with Michael and Jeff for lunch and going over tour stuff. It's going to take a while, but it's no big deal. They'll explain it all to you."

"Okay," I said. "So when's he coming over?"

"Jer? Ten or so."

I massaged my temples and glanced at the clock on the wall. Seven. It was still pretty early. "Mind if I borrow your computer for a little while? I need to check my e-mail and get a few things done."

"Go ahead. I need to have my shower, anyway."

He went to shower, and I went over to his laptop. It was all connected, so I went on to check my mail. There was one from Alex, but that was all. I let him know I had made it, and, after a moment's thought, added that I wouldn't be coming back to Casper for at least a month. I didn't say why, though. It really wasn't necessary.

By the time I was done with that, Brian was finished with his shower and was out in the living room watching TV. I stopped what I was doing and joined him. We sat for two hours without speaking a single word. I didn't even look at him. Despite my earlier words, it hurt. It really did, and I was angry at him. So, it was easier not to say anything than risk blowing my cool.

At a quarter after ten, there was a knock at the front door. "It's Jer," Brian said, jumping up to answer the door.

When the door opened, a tall, incredibly good-looking young man walked into the room. His eyes were of such a dark blue they were almost violet. His hair was dark brown, just a tad on the long side, but neat all the same. His face was flawless, almost cut from stone. And I knew that face.

"Isaac?" was his first word on seeing me. Those eyes were trying to bug out of his head. Isaac was my name a long time ago, before I changed it. My mind was reeling, and I felt like someone had hit me over the head with a brick. Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be him? Why, God? Was this some cruel trick?

"Hello, Jeremiah," I said quietly.

"Isaac Robinson?" He looked as if he couldn't quite believe it.

"This is Josh Taylor," Brian said mildly. His eyes were puzzled as they moved back and forth between the two of us. "Do you...do you know each other?"

"Sure do," I answered, masking my own shock with some difficulty. "Or rather, did. I told you I changed my name, Brian. I used to be Isaac Robinson. That's how everyone knew me then. Jeremiah and I...we belonged to the same group I told you about." I shook my head. "Can't say as it's good to see you, Jer, but it's a shock."

"Yeah," he agreed in the same subdued manner, "yeah, it is. Josh, is it?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Why'd you change your name?"

"Because I wanted to get away from my past," I answered flatly. "I wanted to forget what we did."

Jeremiah hung his head and nodded. "That's...that's why my family moved out here. I begged them to leave. I...I, uh, didn't want to be reminded of that anymore. What we did...it was wrong."

"Tell me about it," I muttered sourly. Then an idea occurred to me and I managed a smile. There was a way to salvage the situation. "Hey, I have an idea. Let's just forget we ever knew each other. Don't talk about the past because I know we both feel really bad about it. We're both entirely different people now, so let's just start over. Okay?"

Jeremiah's eyes lit up beautifully, and he smiled. He'd changed beyond all measure. When I knew him before, he'd been relatively short and gawky. Before me was a man, a gorgeous man with eyes even more incredible than Brian's. "Okay," he said.

"Well, then, I'm Christopher Taylor, but everyone calls me Josh."

"Jeremiah Anderson. Nice to meet you, Josh." He stuck out his hand and I shook it with a slightly reserved smile. No, I'd never be able to forget the past, but maybe we could change things between us.

Once upon a time, we were the fiercest rivals in the group. We pushed each other to do more and worse crimes. Although we were on the same team, we rarely got along. He was two years my senior and so had more pull in the group. I always hated that and I did anything I could to prove I was better. That's why we ended up doing what we did.

But time changes people. So maybe...just maybe. I smiled. "So, Brian tells me you're joining the band, too."

Jeremiah nodded. "Yeah. And from what I hear, you're quite the musician yourself. These guys talk about you all the time. They say you helped them write a couple of songs a while ago."

"That I did."

Brian cleared his throat and looked immensely relieved. "It's true," he affirmed, stepping close to Jer and putting an arm around his waist. I didn't look away, but the bile rose into my throat. Yep. I was jealous. Truth to tell, I did want to break them up. But how? I completely missed what Brian had said to Jer, and he was looking at me oddly.

"Your pardon?" I asked, flushing slightly. It was all too clear he knew what I'd been thinking. "Sorry. Um, my mind was wandering."

Brian stepped away from Jer and frowned just a little. "It wasn't important," he said dismissively. "We have a couple of hours to kill. What do you want to do?"

None of us really wanted to do anything, so we just kind of sat around, idly chatting about things. I got caught up on where Jeremiah had been, and I told him a little of what happened to me. I was still shocked to even see him, though. He was, without a doubt, the last person on Earth I'd think about when it came to being gay. When we were back in Denver, he was as anti-gay as they came.

At one point, I asked him about it. He blushed a little and stammered something about being outed after he'd moved to Florida. He looked at me defensively then and asked if my philosophies on the subject had changed. I smiled placatingly and then told him I was gay. He didn't seem overly surprised and commented that, indeed, time did change people.

Lunch was an ordeal, to say the least. It started the moment I walked into the restaurant just behind Brian and Jeremiah. I guess I looked pretty haggard because as soon as Kevin caught sight of me, he skewered Brian with a glare and then came right over to the three of us. By his frosty glare, he didn't particularly like Jeremiah.

"Josh, are you okay?" he asked quietly, guiding me to a chair mercifully away from the two lovebirds.

"Yes," I answered shortly.

"You know, huh? I mean, Brian did tell you, right?" Brian and Jer were at the opposite end of the table, so they couldn't hear us.

"Yes," I repeated.

The concern suddenly in his green eyes almost moved me to tears. "Are you okay? You, uh, don't look so good."

I sighed and passed a hand over my eyes. My headache hadn't gone away. I was hurting. I really was. "I...I didn't sleep well last night," I admitted. "In fact, I didn't sleep at all."

"Did something happen?"

I laughed bitterly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brian's eyes cut to where the two of us sat. "No, nothing happened. Mm...well, actually something did happen, but I don't want to talk about it."

Howie and AJ arrived together just then, effectively ending that conversation. But of course, the minute they saw Brian and Jeremiah together, they became concerned and decided to sit right by Kevin and me. What followed was essentially a repeat of the conversation with Kevin. At that point, my head was about ready to explode.

Nick came in, accompanied by three people I hadn't met before, plus Michael and Jeff. Nick, thankfully, had the good sense not to pour sympathy all over me. I was drowning as it was. It seemed to me, though, as I watched that there wasn't a lot approval about what was going on between Brian and Jeremiah. Kevin and AJ were trying to fry the pair with angry glares. But the two seemed unfazed, and even started holding hands.

We got the food, but just looking at it made me a little nauseous. I picked at the food and played around with it a bit, but couldn't bring myself to eat much. As I picked, I glanced down at the end of the table and saw Brian and Jeremiah feeding each other. I became very nauseous, but I didn't think much about it.

Fifteen minutes later, Michael and Jeff were getting into the contract stuff. I snuck another peek at Brian and Jeremiah. They were gazing deeply into each other's eyes, oblivious to the world around them. And suddenly, I just couldn't take it anymore. I got up from the table, caught a glimpse of startled looks, and then ran to the bathroom. I was going to puke.

My head thudded sickly as I emptied the contents of my stomach, which, admittedly, wasn't much. I was still retching as the door opened. I didn't know who it was, and frankly, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that I wanted to find a hole and crawl into it for the rest of my life.

It hurt so much. I thought I'd be able to deal with seeing Brian and Jeremiah together. But I guess in the back of my mind was the hope that they weren't really that much in love. Now, that hope was blown to hell, and it was starting to sink in, like little daggers into my heart and mind.

"Josh?" a very quiet voice asked from outside the stall I was in. Sounded like Kevin. Of course. My surrogate big brother.

"Go away," I whispered.

A second voice asked, "Are you all right?" That was AJ. I had thought only one person had come in.

"Just leave me alone." I flushed the toilet and scrubbed a hand over my face. My head still pounded away.

I didn't hear the door open again. That meant AJ and Kevin were still out there. Shit. What was I going to do about them? I guess I didn't have to talk to them. Composing myself as much as I could, I stepped out of the stall, and without looking at either of them, I walked to the sink and rinsed my mouth. My hands were shaking badly. So was the rest of my body.

They moved to me at the same time. A pair of hands came to rest on my shoulders, and I couldn't fight them. I cannot remember being as exhausted as I was at that moment. The hands turned me around. I kept my eyes glued to the floor.

"Josh, look at me," Kevin commanded softly. I couldn't. I was still shaking. I felt cold all over. "Josh." More force this time. "Josh, look at me."

Finally, I did. It was AJ who had his hands on my shoulders. Kevin stood just in front of me, clad black and blue. His eyes were dark, but full of worry. AJ took one of his hands off my shoulder, but pulled me in closer to him. I was grateful for the contact.

Kevin's eyes, I saw just then, were glistening with tears. "Are you all right?"

I couldn't speak, so I just shook my head. No, I wasn't. The tears that hadn't come the night before came up then, but I fought them back. I didn't feel right breaking down in the middle of a restaurant.

But Kevin's next words undid me. Gently, he said, "You love him, don't you? You love him, and it's tearing you apart to see them together."

I nodded dumbly. "I...I th-thought I c-could h-handle it...but-but I...seeing them...it...just..." My shaking intensified, and one tear leaked out of my eye.

"It's okay to hurt," AJ said quietly. "We're here to help you, Josh." He tightened his arm around my shoulder. A quick glance showed he also had tears in his eyes.

Something in me broke. I slumped to the floor, still trembling. The dam I'd been holding back gave away to a flood. I lost all sense of place and time under a torrent of anguished tears. It hurt so much. Everything I'd been holding back: all my pride and anger and frustration burst forth in those tears. I cried like I never had before, clinging to the two men as if they were my only means to stay alive.

At some point, I became aware of being moved out of the bathroom and loaded into a car. But I was still sobbing in someone's arms, and that was good enough. We came to a house and I was taken very gently inside. I didn't know where I was, and didn't care. Gradually, the tears subsided, and I felt empty, husked out, and utterly exhausted. But I felt safe.

I fell asleep, and slept for God only knows how long. It was a comfortless sleep, dark and dreamless, but that was better than dreaming. It had been afternoon, bright daylight, when I had fallen asleep. When I woke up, the sun was out. Either I hadn't slept very long, or I'd slept for a long time. I realized just then that I was wearing only my boxers and undershirt, and I was on an unfamiliar bed. I didn't care. I dug around until I found my watch. Ten-thirty a.m. I'd slept for almost an entire day.

I felt empty. I guess, though, that was better than holding everything inside. I still hurt a little, but it was more distant, subdued, and stable. With a long stretch, I sighed and then got out of bed. Where in the hell was I? I opened the door, looked down the hall, and got my answer. Kevin's house. I'd only been here once before...on that night. The night that changed everything.

Kevin was out in the living room watching TV. On hearing me, he turned his head and smiled broadly. "Morning, Josh."

"Morning," I returned quietly. "Must've been more tired than I thought." With a tired smile, I sat down on the other end of the couch. "Thank you," I said, in almost a whisper. "Thank you for being there when I needed you, and for taking care of me." It was hard to admit that I had needed them, but it was true.

Kevin's smile widened a little. "Think nothing of it. We're always here when you need to talk. How are you this morning?"

How was I? That was a good question. I really wasn't sure how I was, so I settled on, "I'm okay. Not great, but better than yesterday."

"That's good. Everyone was so worried about you. They all came over here, but you were way out of it by then." He sighed. "Brian said to tell you he's sorry. He wanted you over at his house, but we never should have let him. He came over here by himself last night and he and I had a long talk."

'Oh no,' I thought, somewhat alarmed. 'I hope you didn't say anything stupid, Kevin.' "What'd you tell him?"

"Well, to show a little more consideration, was all. He said that you told him you were okay with everything. I told him that if he'd seen what I saw last night, his heart would have broken. He looked a little shaken himself, but he promised to back off. I think he was just showing off a little yesterday. That's the first time I've seen them be so affectionate in public."

"Oh." I shrugged. "Well, thanks, I guess, but...but, you know, I don't want him to think that I'm totally stuck on him."

Kevin waved that aside. "Well, whether you are or not doesn't matter. He doesn't need to be flaunting it. For one, we don't want anyone knowing about it. For another I don't want to see it, and neither do any of the others. I don't know if you noticed it or not, but none of us are that fond of Jeremiah, anyway. There's something about him..."

"Did Brian tell you that I knew him years ago?"

Kevin looked surprised. "No. When was that?"

"Well, I lived in Denver once. I knew him then. We ran with the same group, actually."

"What kind of group?" He had sensed that there was something more to it.

"Ah, a, uh...a kind of white supremacist thing. We were young and not very bright. He and I were always in competition to see who was the best. But that's all ancient history. Since then I've changed a lot. I guess he has, too. He used to be totally anti-gay, but now, look at him."

Kevin didn't answer. I could tell my answer bothered him. He stared off into the distance moodily. Finally he said, "You were in a white supremacist group?"

"When I was really young." I stripped off my T-shirt and indicated my right shoulder.

"That's a swastika." There was a sudden sharp intake of breath. "What...what happened to your back? Where did all these scars come from?"

I hadn't meant to show those. I shrugged as I put my shirt back on. "Let's just say I didn't have the most happy family life. Leave it at that."

"Someone hit you?"

"Mm-hmm."

"What about that scar on your forearm?"

Startled, I looked my right forearm. That was a scar even Brian hadn't seen yet. I normally wore long-sleeved shirts to cover that up, or if I wore T-shirts, I was careful not to show my arm. There was a long, thin white scar up the arm, most of the way up to the elbow. "Where do you think that came from?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you try to kill yourself?"

This was also something I'd neglected to mention to Brian, but I nodded. "About three years ago, but I'd rather not get into that, either. I'll just say that I've been a lot of places and seen a lot of things. Most of them aren't really happy."

"Oh." Kevin looked very troubled.

I had to do something. I got up and walked over to him and knelt down right in front of him so that I was looking right into his eyes. "Don't let it bother you," I said. "Things have changed a lot since then, and I promise you that it'll never get that bad, okay? I know I have you and the other guys to go to if things get bad."

That seemed to alleviate some of his troubles. He grinned widely and suddenly pushed me. I went sprawling and landed in an unceremonious heap on my rump. "Oh, now it's on!" I yelled and jumped on him. Being that I was a good deal shorter and a lot lighter, he pushed me off and then got off the couch. He picked me up and threw me into the couch. I was laughing the whole way. I threw a pillow at him. He caught it and hit me with it. I scrambled off the couch and started to run away. He caught me and put me in a headlock, but we were both laughing. It was great fun.

We were still going strong when the front door opened up and Howie and AJ walked through. Their expressions went from concerned, to shocked, to laughing as they watched Kevin tackle me and try to smother me with his pillow. Finally, he let me up, and I stood, face flushed, but laughing.

Howie was the first to open his mouth. "Well, I guess you're never too old, eh Kev?" He was rewarded by a pillow to the face.

AJ looked glad that I was up. "Hey, how you doing?"

"Better," I answered brightly. "Thank you, AJ. I'll say to you what I said to Kevin. Thank you for being there to take care of me."

Looking absurdly pleased, AJ grinned. "You're welcome, Josh. I'm just happy you're doing okay."

"Me too," Howie agreed. "We were really worried, Josh. You were gone an awful long time, and then when AJ and Kevin came out, they had you wrapped up tight. None of us could even see you, but it looked really bad."

Kevin shrugged a little uncomfortably. "We just had to get out of there and we were creating a big enough scene as it was."

"Yeah, well," I cut in, "it's all over and done, so let's just call it. I don't even want to think about it anymore." That was the truth.

"Okay," AJ said. "Well, Michael wants to finish the contract stuff with you when you're up to it." He yawned. "We've got your bags and things in the car. We stopped by Brian's so you didn't have to."

I was touched. How sweet. I smiled with some feeling and said, "Hey, thanks, guys. I really appreciate it."

The two of them shrugged and didn't say much. "So," AJ said, to change the subject, "why in the world were you two wrestling when we got here?"

"Because I tried to come on to Kevin!" I said. Kevin's eyes widened and one of his hands shot out to grab me. I danced away, laughing. "I'm kidding. No, we were talking and he pushed me, so I jumped on him. Then we just sort of started fighting."

"Oh." I realized that AJ was without any sort of glasses today. His eyes danced with amusement. "Well, so, are you up to a meeting with Michael this afternoon?"

"Yup," I said, suddenly cheerful. Oh sure, I knew the moment I was alone, I'd be depressed again, but it was easy to be happy around these guys. We had pulled close before. It was because of them, mostly. I was constantly drawn and fascinated by their closeness, the ease with which they got along. Now, I was a part of that, for the first time in my life. The thought always cheered me up.

AJ and Howie were both grinning. "Good," Howie said. "Well, we'll go get your bags."

"I'd help you," I said, "but I'm a little underdressed to be going outside." I'd feel ridiculous going outside in just my boxers and T- shirt, anyway.

A moment later, they had retrieved my two bags and I thanked them before jumping through the shower. It didn't take long, and running my hand over my face, I saw there was nothing to shave, so I walked out. When I did, I heard a little bit of heated conversation going on. From the sounds of things, someone else had showed up.

When I walked downstairs, I saw Nick sitting with Howie and AJ. They were all arguing over something on TV, and it sounded just like brothers fighting, so I tuned it out and went to look for Kevin. Kevin was in the kitchen, leaned against the counter deep in conversation with someone. A second later, I saw who, and turned away. Of course he'd have to show up.

I headed back into the living room and sat quietly on the couch. "Do you guys always come as a set?" I asked the three who were all looking at me. "I mean, I hardly ever see you apart. Don't you have lives of your own?"

"You think with a schedule like ours we have time to make a lot of friends?" Nick shot back. "Why do you think I play video games so much? We hardly ever stay here long enough for us to make a lot of friends. I mean, that bunch we had over on New Year's Eve was about it."

"Oh." I was kind of embarrassed, and the three of them were all looking at me very oddly, which made me even more uncomfortable. "I just thought, well, don't you get sick of hanging around with each other all the time?"

"Of course," AJ said. "But we also know each other so well that we know what not to say and do to piss the others off." He shrugged. "You okay?"

"Mm?" I didn't know why he was asking me that, but I shrugged. "Yeah, fine."

He smiled and then turned his attention back to the TV. They were watching a basketball game and had been arguing over who was going to win. I'm not a big fan of basketball. I like almost every other sport-baseball, football, tennis, golf, even hockey-but for some reason, basketball has never seemed that interesting. It moves a little too fast for me, I guess. So, I tuned out the game and sat thinking.

I remembered hearing yesterday that we'd be leaving in about a week and basically hit all our stops in ten. That meant we were going to be spending a lot of time on the road. I didn't have my violin or sax with me. I felt weird using someone else's things. Well, we did have a week. Maybe I could get them shipped out here. In fact, that sounded like a good idea.

Ten days on the road. But I'd thought I heard Michael say something like he was looking to get someone more permanent for what I was being asked to play. Did that mean they wanted me to stick around longer? Well, I guess we'd worry about that when it came up. No sense counting my chickens. I'd already done that more times than I could count.

After a little while, Kevin and Brian came out of the kitchen. Neither looked very happy, but Brian managed a weak smile. "Hi, Josh."

"Brian," I nodded. At that moment, I knew I'd be okay. The hardest thing I was going to have to do was face him after something like this. My mind was at rest and more stable than it had been the day before. "How's it going?"

"Okay," he said. The mood in the room was tense. "Ah, you?"

"Just fine," I answered with a smile. I wanted to put everyone at ease, and it worked in the sense that some of the tension, mine, dissipated. I relaxed and glanced out the window. "Yep. Just fine."

There was an uncomfortable silence between the six of us. Things needed to be said, that much was obvious, but it didn't look like that would happen. The TV was a welcome distraction, as we all homed in on it and pretended that it was the most interesting thing any of us had seen.

Finally, Nick broke the silence. He sighed gustily and brushed a strand of his hair out of his eyes. "Um, so, are we going to meet Michael? If we are, we'd better get going."

Kevin nodded and glanced in my direction. "That's probably a good idea. It won't take that long."

With a shrug I stood up. "Let's go, then."

The meeting took exactly long enough for Michael to express his concern over my health and then, seeing I was fine, go through the rest of his spiel. He asked me if I planned on becoming the group's permanent keyboardist. That was the only thing that took a few moments. After a good deliberation with myself, I finally said that I didn't want the job. The guys were suitably disappointed, but they'd get over it.

We were supposed to hit the road in exactly six days. The places we needed to hit were mostly in Spain, which was kind of cool. I'd never been out of the country before, so I had to get a passport, but that was a work of no time.

The majority of the time, I was with the group's temporary band, working through the new and old material. We only had six days to get it down. We had to know all of the singles from the first US album, almost all of the songs from 'Millennium,' and everything from the new album. Management had decided to try out the new stuff while we were out. That was a lot of music to know, but fortunately, all of us who composed this temp band were pretty decent musicians.

First was a guy named Andy Dickson, on drums and some piano. He was tall, rumpled, and walked in a casual shamble no matter where he went. His hands were always shoved in his pockets and his shoulders stooped, which belied his height. He was shy, but incredibly intelligent. Those sky blue eyes were always inward-drawn, as if he was in a little world of his own and the rest of us were incidental figures. His hair was white-blond and long under his prized Chicago Bulls championship hat. I took a shine to him right away.

Megan Grayson, a short, slightly rotund character, was young, aggressive and charming. She was a very gifted guitarist, a percussion whiz, and a very outspoken person. Her metallic green eyes constantly roved around the room, never staying in place long, but taking everything in with a kind of curious interest. She was open, friendly, and completely approachable, and made it her mission to befriend the five of us who'd gotten thrown into this boat together.

Next was Dennis Brennan, the self-styled "mutt rocker." He played five different instruments, guitar, bass, sax, drums, and piano. He was self-confident to the point of arrogance, which made him a sort of loner from the start. He challenged me especially from the first day, but I proved myself to be his superior on all of the instruments but bass. He was kind of a shifty character, dark and foreboding, with slick black hair, dark eyes, and kind of stooped posture. But once things settled out between us, he turned out to be an affable enough guy, if a little distant.

Jeremiah, I've already introduced, although he was one hell of a bassist, I had to admit. Pretending that we hadn't known each other in the past was very easy to do, and we got along very well. There was no competition, no bad blood, nothing there.

So, the five of us, two former white supremacists, a rich girl wanting to strike out on her own, a former criminal (Dennis), and a space-case, were thrown in the mix together. We were five separate and distinctive personalities, but for some reason, we clicked. And we were good enough so that even the Boys' management had no qualms. By the end of our allotted week, we were as ready as we were ever going to be.

I hardly saw the Boys, who were off at their own rehearsals. The only time I did see them was at night. I continued to stay at Kevin's, which was kind of nice. He really was a good guy, if a little driven. He just had that winner's instinct, and he knew exactly what he was doing. He and I spent time after rehearsals in the little studio he'd added to his house goofing off with new music. Just for fun, and nothing ever came out of it.

So, finally, we were set to go. Our first place was Barcelona. The band, far less important than the stars, was relegated to coach on the flight. But we didn't care. The five of us had a good time laughing and carrying on. There was only a slight awkwardness between Jer and me because of Brian, but even that wasn't able to overcome my excitement at getting to do something new and wonderful. Hell, not even Brian himself could evoke much out of me.

Since it was only an eleven-day thing, the Boys' management was nice and agreed to put the five of us up in the same hotel with the Boys. That was nice, because rumor had it that they stayed in pretty nice hotels. And it was true. The first place we went in Barcelona was a large, comfortable hotel. I ended up rooming with Andy, which was very cool. Dennis and Jeremiah roomed together and Megan got her own room, obviously because she was the only girl in our company.

The ten of us, the five Backstreet Boys and the new band, hadn't really gotten a whole lot of time to bond, so that first night in Spain, we all went out. Perry and Dennis had only met the Boys once, so that was an experience. There wasn't any tension, though, and a tentative bond formed between all of us.

After dinner, I got invited to join Nick in watching a movie. Jeremiah and Brian went off somewhere. Kevin, Howie, and AJ went out for a while. The rest of the band decided to go exploring on their own. I agreed to join Nick, but I saw something I didn't like in the eyes of the other band members: resentment. I was very close to the guys, and that meant that I'd be doing more stuff with them. This was a kind of closeness that, being as all but Megan were temporary, they wouldn't ever have. I could see they, Andy, Dennis, and even Megan, wanted me to hang out since I was one of the band. It was a tough decision, but Nick had asked first.

In the end, it didn't really matter. All we were there for was to play music for an incredibly popular band. The next day, we were setting up. I'd gotten my sax and Strad flown out, thanks again to Alex, and it really didn't take much. I had keys, mostly, but on two songs, our songs, I had the sax and violin parts.

We were ready, but I was still nervous that night. I'd performed many times before, but never in front of a large crowd. The mood around the group was subdued as Brian led the group in a prayer. He asked that God take care of the injured band members and look after Billy and Tom, the fallen two members.

My palms were sweaty and my hands shook as I took the stage with the others. God, there were thousands of people, a sea of faces all craning to get a look at us. We came on ahead of the guys took our places, but played nothing. The five Backstreet Boys, dressed simply in black shirts and slacks, came on stage together.

Brian spoke first. "As y'all know, we lost two of our band recently. Mr. Tom Smith and Mr. Billy Chapin died two weeks ago. This show is dedicated to them."

The crowd was silent and the mood suddenly somber. AJ spoke next. "The others in our band are recovering, but are not here. This show is also dedicated to them. We wish them the best. We miss you guys out here."

Kevin stepped forward. "But as you know, the show must go on. We normally don't do this at the beginning of a show, but we'd like to introduce the new band."

The five of us, the band, all exchanged surprised glances. None of us had known about this, but it did make a certain kind of sense. I smiled uneasily at Megan, who had her guitar in hand. Her eyes widened, but she managed a weak smile back. That vast ocean of faces out there was enormous and overwhelming. I could see Andy trying to shrink back into his trap set.

Howie was next. "First, on drums is Andy Dickson, a newcomer to the Backstreet camp." Andy unbent himself briefly to a huge round of applause. "On bass, Jeremiah Anderson who has become a good friend to the group in the few months that we've known him." Jeremiah waved confidently to the fans. "Next, on guitar and sax is Dennis Brennan, another newcomer to the group." Dennis, smug, blew kisses into the air. The harsh lighting reflected on his slick hair, making his glow oddly.

Howie stepped back and Nick stepped forward, looking slightly shy. "On guitar and keys is the beautiful and talented Megan Grayson." Megan stepped forward, looking quite pretty with a slight flush in her pale cheeks. Her hair, normally red, seemed to almost burn under the lights. "And last, but certainly not least, is a guy who's gotten to be a very good friend of the group in the last year, helping us write and record two incredible songs. On keys, violin, sax, and guitar is Josh Taylor." I waved from my perch behind a dual set of keyboards, a little embarrassed by the exposition, but it was over in a moment.

After that, we got on with the show. We started with 'Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely.' The mood, still a little somber, carried through that song and one of the new songs the audience hadn't heard before. Then we shed the heavy mood and I swapped places with Dennis so I could take sax on another new song. Then we went back to 'Larger than Life' and the show really started moving along. We went through old and new with the casual ease of a group that had been together for years. It helped that we were just background characters.

For the final two songs, Dennis, Andy, Megan, and Jeremiah left the stage. "Little something new for you," Kevin said, coming to stand at the keyboards. Nick went to the drums, Brian and Howie took up guitars, and AJ took a seat in front. I grabbed my sax, and we were ready.

AJ spoke before we started. "This is a song that the five of us, and Josh Taylor, co-wrote the first night we met. It's on the new album, and we played our own instruments for this one. It's called 'Run Around.'" He settled back and started counting down.

It was amazing, to hear the fans' reception of this song as we played it. They were enthralled by it, and that's just what we'd all hoped would happen. The song really wasn't fast and it wasn't that slow, but it was comfortable. Playing it at this level was a whole new experience, but it felt right. When we finished, the crowd was on its feet, screaming and yelling for more.

AJ grinned, stalling for time as I changed instruments. "You like that? Well, this next on Josh and Brian also wrote the first night they met. We played our own instruments for this, too. And the group would like to thank Josh for his help with both songs." I was finally ready. AJ counted down.

This one got a slightly different reception. As we played, as the sweet, searing notes of the violin cut through the melody, flirted with it, faded into shadow, I saw girls start crying. As Kevin beautifully brought a sad, haunting quality into the music, as Brian and Howie echoed in a ghostly harmony, as Brian and AJ lent quiet voices, and as Nick kept time, the song came to life. I was breathless. Although I'd heard the song many times, I'd never quite heard it all at once, with both instrumental and vocal music together. It was quite a stirring song. By the time we were done, more than a few people were in tears.

"That was for you, Billy, Tommy," Brian murmured into his mike before standing, bowing, and smiling softly at the rest of us. We all stood and took our bows, but suddenly, I was propelled forward. I stood with the group, not behind them. I don't think in my life I've felt more proud. We left the stage as a group amid thunderous applause and screams.

"That was terrific," I heard someone, a handler of some sort, say. "That song is going to do wonders for your credibility. Both of them will."

None of us responded. We had to hurry. We had to shower and then get ready to go. We had a show in a city not too far away, but we'd be staying overnight on our bus. As soon as some of the commotion died down, I slipped back onstage to collect my instruments. The stage crew, whom I'd met earlier, grinned when they saw the care I used to put the sax and Strad in their cases. After that, Andy ambled onstage to give me a hand. He didn't say much, but smiled warmly as we helped the stage crew tear down the rest of the set. That became routine.

Afterward, I grabbed a quick shower before jumping on the bus. I was dead tired and fell into a bunk at the back and was asleep before my head hit the pillow. I slept like a rock, through the stops, until the morning. We all did. It had been an emotionally draining show.

That was pretty much the pattern over the entire trip. The shows were the same each night, starting and ending the same way. The Boys were outstanding, dancing and singing with a renewed passion, greeting their fans with courtesy, and just overall conducting themselves wonderfully in a difficult time. I admired them. No matter how crappy they felt, they still went onstage to sing, and all of the performances were memorable. The band muddled through with only a few minor flaws that went unnoticed by anyone but us.

Even though the five of us, the band, that is, were only together for ten days and played in six more shows, we got tight. Even Dennis lost a little of his arrogance and joined us. I don't know how I managed it, but I also spent plenty of time with the Boys, including Brian. We finally reached a sort of comfortable, but slightly distant, friendship. It was a damn sight better than the tense, awkward relationship that had dogged us most of the week we'd been in Orlando.

Brian and Jeremiah, oddly enough, didn't really spend that much time together. He, Jeremiah, spent more time with the band than he did with his boyfriend. They still sometimes flashed loving looks at each other and took long walks together, but they didn't flaunt it. They were really in love, though. God, looking into Brian's eyes when he was around Jer was like looking into a soft summer sky, a deep, warm azure. It was beautiful, but still a little heart wrenching for me. I was able to deal with them being together, but I still sometimes wished that that lovesick look was directed at me.

The group accepted this relationship better when they didn't have it shoved in their faces, so they got used to Jeremiah and saw he really wasn't a bad guy. He wasn't. He and I actually got to be friends for the first time. Everything that had been between us in the past more or less evaporated. I was glad, too. That made the whole trip that much more pleasant.

But it was over in a heartbeat. We hardly had any spare time, and so we didn't get to see much of the places we played. That was about the worst part of it. We were incredibly busy with setting up, performing, and tearing down. There weren't any real free days. And days we had off were travel days. Those buses were our little sanctuaries. We all spent time in both buses, which was how we got to be as tight as we were by the end.

Finally, we were on a plane bound for the US once again. As I sat watching the pillowy white clouds beneath us, I reflected on a whole lifetime's worth of memories. That had been the most incredible trip of my life. Being onstage each night, playing the music, hearing what the Boys did, experiencing life from their point of view...it made the song 'Life on the Back Streets' ring that much truer. It really was a tough life. You go to a city, you set up all day, maybe do a quick run-through, get ready to go on, perform, and then leave. Just like that. These guys did it night after night, with only token complaints.

They had all grown a little, changed. Nick was acting like an adult, calm, rational, and mellow. He still sometimes acted impulsively, joked, acted like a kid, but only when it was okay. Kevin seemed even more focused and determined to succeed. AJ also mellowed a little. He was more content to settle for things, not as picky, but still as charming and friendly as ever. Howie, well, he was still sweet, but he was also determined, like Kevin, to succeed. He wasn't driven per se, but he was very firm in his desire to get to the top. And Brian...Brian. His restless spirit finally stopped wandering. He'd found what he was looking for in Jer. He was happier, quieter, more relaxed than I'd ever seen him.

When we touched down in Orlando, I had thought I was just going to get my things and head back up to Casper. But Kevin invited me back to his house again.

"Well," he said, as we got into his car, "there is still one more thing the group wants you to do."

"What's that?" I asked, glancing out at the waning daylight. I was bone-weary. Memories of the trip played like the musical melodies constantly floating around up there. It had been a long, long trip.

"We've got off-time, now, for the next two weeks or so, but then we have to do a video shoot for the 'Back Streets' video. We want you to be in it."

Not being prepared for this, I could only look over at Kevin dumbly. The part of my mind that wasn't paralyzed noticed that he, too, looked exhausted. Finally, I snapped out of it. "That...that'd be cool," I said. "What are you going to do for your vacation?"

"I'm going home to Kentucky for ten days and then spending the rest of the vacation down here." He yawned into his fist. "Mm, sorry. I'm going to sleep for the next day and then hop a plane up there."

"Oh." Great, so what was I going to do? I didn't like the thought of going back to Casper. But then again, maybe I would. I missed Max badly.

"What about you?"

"I think I'll go back to Casper. I haven't seen Max for a long time and I don't want him to forget about me. I guess I'll head back up there until you need me to join you."

"That's a good plan." He hesitated for a moment. "Um, can I ask you something?"

"You know you can."

He smiled wanly. "Thanks. Why aren't you staying with the band? I mean, Michael really wanted to sign you for the long haul. So why didn't you?"

Mm...this was a tough question. I really didn't know why, either. "I guess it just...it didn't feel right," was all I could come up with.

"What does that mean?"

Once again, an answer wasn't immediately forthcoming. "It's hard to explain," I finally said. "It's just one of those things I just feel in my gut. I just don't feel right about doing it."

"Because of Brian and Jeremiah," Kevin guessed astutely.

Looking back on everything that had happened, I guess that was the most logical reason. I didn't like having it rubbed in. It was bad enough that I'd confessed and broken down. I didn't really want to deal with that on a constant basis. This tour only proved it. As gracious as I tried to be, it still hurt. That's why I'd tucked my tail between my legs and crawled away.

"I think that has a lot to do with it," I conceded. "I know that's shallow and selfish, but I told your cousin once how I really felt and I got hurt. It still hurts. I mean, they do make a cute couple, and I'm sure they're going to be happy together, but I just...Kevin, I can't. I'm sorry."

"You're doing it again," Kevin said.

Not having a clue what he was talking about, I looked out the window and then asked, "What?"

"Running. Hiding. So you got burned. Everyone does. But that doesn't mean you have keep running. It doesn't mean you have to stop living because you're afraid to get hurt again. God, Josh, we're offering you a big deal here. We, all five of us, we really want you to come with us. It'd be a really wonderful opportunity for you and for us."

I turned that over in my mind for a few minutes. He was right. I was still running, and it really would be a once in a lifetime offer. But...there was still that part of me that balked at the idea. That part wanted to walk away because it was afraid of being hurt again. And yet... Chances. They sure didn't come along often. Not like this.

I sighed and punched my leg, a little frustrated. "Tell you what," I said quietly. "Give me the two weeks to think about it. The minute you see me when I come back, you'll have my answer."

It didn't sit well with Kevin, but he knew it was the best he could get. "I'll tell Michael to hold off, but you have got to have a decision when you get back here because if you choose not to come, we're going to have to get another replacement."

I nodded. "Fair enough."

We headed into the sunset, now silent, as the skyline. Considerations of the past and present, harmony and melody, played in my mind as we rode into an uncertain future.

Ah, and so you leave. Don't look back. It's not a good idea. This one really had a different feel as I was putting it together. Sorry it took so long, by the way. That life thing getting in the way again. What can I say?

As always, your comments, concerns, and questions are greatly appreciated. Send them to joshtay31@hotmail.com. Thanks so much.

It may be a while for the next part, or it may not. I'm not entirely sure yet, but I'm working like mad. Oh, and I've already got the very ending done. I was just kicking around one evening and it popped into my head. Now I just have to stay focused on the stuff in between...and that's the hard part. But, it's coming. No fear. Until next time, however, this is a tired Chris bidding you...

Farewell and good night