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”And the winner is.......The Backstreet Boys!” Busta Rhymes and Britney Spears announced simoultaniously. The theme music played as the camera zoomed in on the Boys standing, hugging, and making their way toward the podium to accept their first award. An acknowledgment of their achievment. Of sacrifices made over the past several years.
“Wow! What an honor, thank you so much! We’re very pleased to receive this award tonight. We’d like to thank our Heavenly Father for getting us to where we are today. Thank you to Jive Records and Transcon. Thanks for going in for the long haul, you guys!” Brian spoke with enthusiasm and a radiance visible even to the viewing audience at home, shone through his face.
“Our families at home. Thank you for your unconditional love and support. We love you.” Howie smiled into the microphone.
“Mad props also go out to our tour manager, Denise. Also Nina, Lou, Tommy, and the rest of the band” AJ added. Finally it was Kevin’s turn. He stepped toward the mic after clearing his throat.
“We’d like to dedicate this award to friends and family. Even those who are no longer with us.” he paused for a moment before looking straight out to where he knew the camera would be. “I miss you.”
*****
Miranda woke in her apartment in Chicago.......no, Seattle. That was it. Harris and Amy had packed her up and carted her off to yet another city. So far, over the past two years, the three had set up residence in New Orleans, Springfield, and Chicago. Now, they occupied a rambling flat in dowtown Seattle.
Miranda rolled over in her double bed, and reached for the cell phone she knew would be there. Groping for and locating it, she automaticly entered the same eleven digits she had been calling for the past two and a half years. Like usual, the phone rang once, and an operator’s recorded message clicked on.
“We’re sorry, this line has been disconnected. If you feel that you have reached the correct number, please hang up and repeat your call-” Miranda hung up the phone as usual. It was her routine: she still tried to reach Kevin at their old number. It had stopped working two months after her first call to him. After that, the only voice she heard was the operator’s.
“I see you’re up and about, performing your rituals.” Amy broke wryly into Miranda’s thoughts. Amy and Harris had known what she was up to since her first call to Kevin. The phone records had seen to that. However, they had made no attempt to stop her, realizing that since she never said anything, they weren’t in danger. Amy also recognized Miranda’s habits as part of the healing process.
“Yeah. I’m on my way to waking up.” Miranda groaned, and shifted under the covers. Wordlessly, Amy extended a cup of coffee.
“It’s time to move on today.”
“Really?” They never told her when the next relocation would be. Harris had the uncanny habit of springing the move on them, never giving them more than a few hours to ready themselves.
“Yup. This time, it’s going to be pretty much just you and me, kid.” Amy informed her casually. Miranda couldn’t help but feel alarmed.
“Why?! What’s happening with Harris?”
“He won’t fit in well at this new location. Besides, another case needs some of his expertise, so he’s been called in to assist.” Amy shrugged. “Hey, it won’t be that bad. You and I will be fine. No follow up attempts have been made in the past year and a half. It’s starting to look like the thugs have given up.”
“I’m not worried about you and I being safe. It will just be odd not having Harris around, you know?”
“I know. He’s a big lug, but ya kinda get used to him after a while, huh?”
Miranda nodded, grateful for Amy’s understanding. “What are we doing this time?”
“Tsk tsk. You know the drill. Not until we get there.” Amy shook her finger at Miranda, who smiled.
“I know. Not until we get there.”
*****
“Back-street-Boys! Back-street-Boys! Back-street-Boys!”
“Don’t they ever shut up?” Nick mumbled as he ran a hand through his hair nervously.
“Nick!” Brian exclaimed. “They’re our fans!”
“I know, I know it’s justgrrmphl.....” the blond haired, blue eyed heartthrob trailed off in a fit of grumbling. Kevin sighed and placed a hand reassuringly on the younger man’s shoulder.
“Just try to block it out, okay? Remember, we owe them everything.” he quietly reminded. Nick’s response was a sour look and a nod. Just then, a tap sounded on the door, and the producer’s head popped in.
“We’re ready for you boys. Sixty seconds until we air.”
“Thanks, man.” AJ acknowledged and led the way out the door.
“Men. We wanna be men, here.” Brian muttered. “Backstreet MEN.” A rare smile pulled at Kevin’s lips. These four men around him were most likely to elicit a laugh from him. Many others tried, and when it was nessecary, Kevin would give an obligatory chuckle. But it was never genuine. His ‘brothers’ understood his aloof and serious nature. They knew.
Kevin paused before they went out onto the Regis and Kathy Lee platform. Absently, he toyed with his empty ring finger, the place where his silver band had once been. Neither Brian nor Howie missed this automatic action. They exchanged a glance that said, ‘Two years have passed, how many more must fly by before she is little more than a dim memory?’
*****
“Now will you tell me what I’m doing this time?”
“Sure. Except it’s what WE’RE doing.” Amy corrected.
“We?”
“Yup. With this job, though it’s ideal, I can’t hang around to keep an eye on you without raising suspicion. I’ve got to have a job to do too.” Amy fiddled with the arm rest on the plane, enjoying the suspense she was inflicting upon Miranda. “Harris has us playing the part of beauticians.”
“Beauticians?!”
Amy cast an amused glance at Miranda, and nodded her head. “Of sorts. We’re the pre-concert prep people for some band. You know, hair....makeup.....wardrobe. It works out well because we’ll constantly be on the road, moving from city to city.”
“Ick.” Miranda wrinkled her nose. “A bunch of squirrely blond girls in bimbo attire.”
“Hey! At least it’s not like the last job!” Amy pointed out with a laugh. Both women moaned on cue.
“Thank God for that.”
*****
Kevin leaned back against the Backstreet tour bus and watched the proceedings around him with a jaded eye. This was their third world tour, and everything was working out on schedule. The grips had arrived the day before and were busy loading the last of the equipment into the big rigs. The Backstreet band hung out in a group, carefully presiding over the packing of their instruments. Brian and Nick tossed a basketball around nearby, as AJ and Howie both spoke on the phone with their girlfriends. A sigh escaped Kevin. Though he loved his life as a Backstreet Boy, something was missing. It had always been missing.
Just then, Denise strolled by, two young women in tow. Kevin couldn’t miss their conversation.
“Now, these are the group and band buses. The bus with the green streak is where the costumes and stage equipment is stored. You’ll be traveling on this bus with security, the tour manager, and the record label liason. I’ll be on the bus carrying the boys themselves. You’re welcome to organize wardrobe any way that you like, just as long as it’s a fairly understandable system. In the event that someone has to cover for you, we’d appreciate being able to locate the nesessary items with relatively little trouble.........” Denise’s voice died out as they continued to their destination.
“Those two must be the new wardrobe personal.” Kevin speculated.
“Kev! Think fast!” Nick called, tossing the basketball toward him. Kevin caught it with ease, and arched an eyebrow. “Are you playing, or not?” demanded the younger man. In answer, Kevin began to dribble the ball onto the makeshift court.
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