Angela was up at 5 am getting around. That was an hour earlier than usual, but she hadn't slept worth a crap the night before and had actually gotten so overcome by nerves that she threw up once. She knew in her heart that Kenneth wasn't lying about it being the Backstreet Boys, and the more she thought about Sandra's shock at such a thing the more nervous she got. She'd taken extra special efforts with her hair and make-up (as the word adorable echoed through the back of her mind) and had spent more time than usual picking out her work clothes.
As she was finishing the touchups on her make-up it occurred to her - what if they're arrogant pricks? What if they act like they're better than her? What if they won't work? What if….well, she would be in charge, and she would treat them like she had the high school kids who had volunteered earlier in the summer: Try to have fun, yet make it clear that everyone was going to do their fair share. Practical jokes? Okay. Horsing around? Okay, so long as the job is done at the end of the day.
Gawd, she never asked Sandra how old they were, either. Probably around eighteen or nineteen years old..... Backstreet Boys. Boy is the key word. Yeah, they were probably about eighteen or nineteen years old, still young enough to intimidate with age. Angela laughed out loud when she realized how old that made her feel, at the ripe old age of twenty-four.
Downstairs at the breakfast table, Kenneth was as nervous as she'd ever seen him. He was shifting through papers and mumbling to himself. "Where's Ann?" she asked…. Ann, her beautiful foster mom, Kenneth's wife.
Kenneth looked up from his paper, which he wasn't really reading anyway. "Oh, she had to leave for work early today. She told me to tell you to have a great time and to take lots of pictures for her."
"Pictures?" asked Angela, curiously. "I'm not taking a camera. We're gonna be working."
Reluctantly, Kenneth explained the pictures comment. He knew she wouldn't like it. Angela hated getting her picture taken almost as much as she hated taking pictures. "Well, there will be cameras there for all of you to take pictures with. Disposable ones. They were donated."
"What?!?" she exclaimed. "I don't want to take pictures. That's stupid! And I certainly don't want my picture taken."
"It's not stupid, it's ingenious," Kenneth replied confidently. "They'll be published later in a special-edition magazine to show the Backstreet Boys' efforts, as well as promote the Peace House." He winked as he said Peace House. "Geeeeeeez," Angela whined. "It all sounds cheesy to me. I don't want to be in some teen magazine." She still couldn't believe it was really the Backstreet Boys, and was inclined to think that Kenneth didn't know who they were even more so than she. She decided to interrogate him one more time to see if he could give her a description of them (based, of course, loosely on what Sandra had told her over the telephone the night before). "Kenneth, is it really the Backstreet Boys? The ones on the radio and MTV, right?"
"Yes, Angela," Kenneth replied calmly. "Why would I tell you that if it weren't true?"
"I don't know," she replied, studying him for any trace of deception. "I just don't see how you possibly got such a big-name group to come to BFE, Edgell, Indiana to work on a homeless shelter. It doesn't make sense when you really think about it, Kenneth." She looked at him intensely waiting for him to break.
"Well, I have friends in the right places," he replied, unconcerned with her disbelief. "Besides, no-one will even know they're here until Friday. We're going to start having it announced Friday morning on radio stations in the area that the open house will have the Backstreet Boys and donations to help out are being accepted."
Angela smirked at him. "And you really think that people will just come running on such short notice?"
Kenneth looked up from his paper, in his own disbelief. "Do you even know how big they really are? This is big, Angela. I'm more concerned about what to do with all of the people that DO show up, than what to do if no one shows up. Christ, they sold out 30-some concerts in a matter of hours."
Angela winced at his language. She wasn't a goody-goody, but she'd rather hear the F-word any day than to hear the Lord's name in vain. "So am I still going to be in charge of the work and stuff?" She had visions of security and management people telling her to go sit down while they took their precious Backstreet Boys' pictures.
"Yes, young lady," Kenneth reassured her, "it's going to be you and the boys. I know you'll work hard and that you'll be professional about it. That's why I didn't bring in outsiders. I don't want the word to get out and there to be a mad rush to the house before it's finished. That would be horrible. We'd never get it finished, then."
Angela liked how he said 'we', when his lazy ass had never lifted a finger to do anything at the shelter, but she let it go. "Do you think anyone would really believe it if they heard they were there? I mean, seriously? I don't think they would believe it. I don't believe it. I won't believe it until I see them." (Which sounded odd to her since she didn't even know what they really looked like). She'd seen them before, but hell, she didn't really pay attention to such things. Even Sandra's descriptions didn't jog her memory.
"I don't know," Kenneth replied, obviously getting frustrated. "What's with all the questions? Are you nervous? Just treat 'em like anyone else. You'll be fine. They're a nice bunch of guys."
"How old are they?" she asked.
"The youngest one is probably about nineteen or twenty, and the oldest one is about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, I think." Kenneth looked at her curiously, wondering why their ages would be important.
"Twenty-seven or twenty-eight???!!! I thought they were younger than that! You mean, they're OLDER than me?!" Now she was really nervous.
"Not all of 'em, Angela," Kenneth replied, trying to calm her. "But you'll probably have more in common with Nick, the young one."
She remembered her notes…Nick/Adorable, and that Sandra wouldn't tell her any specifics on him. "What's he look like?" she asked, wondering what Kenneth's interpretation of adorable would be.
Kenneth smiled slyly at her, knowing that Nick would probably be attractive to her. "He's tall, blond.....he's a good lookin' kid. His whole family's good-looking."
"What about the other guys.....what do they look like?" The more details the better, she thought.
"Look, Angela, you'll see them soon enough," Kenneth replied, agitated that she hadn't commented on Nick's appearance like he'd hoped. "I'm not going to sit here and describe them to you." He changed direction of the conversation quickly, intentionally. "Are you ready to go?"
His discomfort on discussing the other four guys led Angela to believe that he didn't know what the rest of them looked like either. "What about AJ? What does he look like?" She knew that if he knew what AJ'd looked like he'd mention the tattoos. Kenneth hated tattoos. He thought they were a "desecration of the body."
Kenneth squirmed a little. "AJ? Ummmmm, I'm not sure. I get them mixed up."
"Oh man," Angela scoffed. "So YOU don't know what they look like either? You're just going to throw me in a room full of guys and you don't know if they're rapists, drug-users, or whatever!"
Kenneth confessed his very little Backstreet knowledge. "Nick's the one I know. I've seen pictures of the others, but I can't remember them. Nick's a nice kid, though. Kind of a wholesome, all-American kind of guy."
Angela scoffed again. "I doubt he's that wholesome, Kenneth. How can someone be that popular and be wholesome. He's probably a dickhead and has orgies with the other guys." She looked at him, feigning fear. "I'm kind of scared for my safety." Nick was obviously his favorite, which made her think he wouldn't be her type as Sandra had indicated over the phone.
"ANGELA!" Kenneth shouted. "I don't want to hear you talk about him like that! He's a good kid, and his mother is a wonderful person. It would break her heart to hear you say something horrible like that."
A-ha! She thought. His mother? How would Kenneth be friends with a Backstreet Boy's mother? "So how do you know his mother?"
"I just do," Kenneth answered shortly. "Now get your things and let's get going. I want to be there before they arrive."
The finality of it all hit her, ending her concern over how Kenneth knew them. Oh my God, she thought. I'm going to meet the Backstreet Boys. He's not lying. It's really true. What do I say? Oh my God. "Kenneth, I feel sick."
He laughed and patted her arm reassuringly (which was highly unusual for his un-supportive ass). "You'll be all right. That'll wear off once you start working."
"Whatever...." she replied, softly.
Kenneth noticed that she did look a little pale, so he tried to make
her laugh.
"Yeah, whatever." No such luck. Maybe she would be a little star
struck.
He'd been counting on her not to be.
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