CHAPTER TWO – WHO ARE YOU?

"I told him not to drink that huge Coke! Now look!" Kevin screamed to the audience, waving his hand expansively. "Brian! You’ve gotta learn how to hold it!" The crowd roared their delight and Kevin took that moment to turn away from them, frowning and throwing Nick a curt nod to go find him.

Nick rolled his eyes dramatically and then trotted backstage, giving the nearest stage crew an impatient "where is he?" look. He followed the pointing finger and saw Brian stooped over, his hands braced on his thighs.

"What the hell was all that about?" groused Nick, reaching in to snake his fingers around Brian’s arm. He tugged hard, pulling Brian around to face him. Even with the scattered bursts of colored lights, Nick could see that his face was pale. "Are you sick?" he yelled into Brian’s ear as the band began their next song.

Brian shook his head.

"Good, well come on then!"

He dragged a reluctant Brian back on stage, exaggerating his pulling by tugging dramatically on Brian’s hand. "Got him!" he announced to the audience and the crowd laughed wildly, amused at Nick’s comical antics. Nick turned to face Brian, a wide smirk on his face.

Brian was not smiling.

* * * * * * * * * *

Brian was a lot happier when he arrived in Atlanta. Except for their quick detour to sing the national anthem at the Super Bowl, he would be home, on familiar ground, even if only for a few days. He chided himself for acting like such an idiot last night, running off stage like a frightened kid. Returning back on stage with Nick he had glanced several times at the front row but she was gone, nowhere to be found. Brian shook his head in amazement, wondering how he had let his imagination run so wild. He had completed the rest of the concert almost on a giddy high, his relief immense, vowing to put the strange girl out of his mind once and for all.

* * * * * * * * * *

She was there. It took all his willpower not to throw up.

He sang, nervous. She smiled at him. If you could call it that.

He dropped his microphone. Several times in fact.

She wasn't smiling. She wasn't doing anything at all. Just watching.

He did throw up. Twice, right after the concert.

AJ shrugged. Stomach flu. Don't get near me.

* * * * * * * * *

Howie, Kevin, AJ, and Nick were positive he wasn't going to make it to Tampa for the Super Bowl. They were convinced he was sick. He explained it wasn't that kind of sick and Nick looked at him curiously. "What other kind of sick is there?" he asked. Brian didn't answer. He didn't want to.

* * * * * * * * *

Brian was glad he looked so grave during the national anthem. It fit his mood. He could feel the nervous tension in Howie. He wished he had the first lines to sing, so he could concentrate on that. But Howie had the first lines, so he did what he had been doing for the last twenty-four hours. Searching. Scanning. Anywhere. Everywhere. Looking for her. Why? He didn't know. He just did.

* * * * * * * * *

Brian walked slowly into the back dressing room with Nick, not listening to his excited chatter. It had been over two days since he had seen her and not once had he stopped searching, looking for her. At the airport. On the bus. Restaurants. Any place that had people. He was now sure that he was being stalked. Positive. No one, no one could be that lucky to get front row tickets to every single concert. It was intentional. It was planned. And she was good. So good that the guys couldn't even pinpoint her. Brian knew she would be there tonight. It was a given. His surprise, turned to fear, had now changed to anger. He was mad. They were here for two days. He'd catch her. He was sure of it.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Hello Philadelphia!" screamed AJ. "Miss us?"

Brian bounced lightly on his toes, listening to the screams, pumped up, his eyes flickering back and forth. Damn these lights! He couldn't see much. Each concert, each new city posed new problems, and this one was no different than the rest. Just when you got comfortable with one arena, you had to adjust to the next. He felt Nick slap him a reassuring high-five as he crossed in front of him, peering into the darkness below. Where was she? If he could just find her, he'd hop off the stage in an instant, not caring if he screwed up the routine.

His heart beat a little faster when he spotted her, just as they began the next song. Of course. First row. Middle. Brian smiled grimly. Bingo. The little bitch. She was sitting down, hands folded. Was she swaying a little to the music? He couldn't be sure. It didn't matter. He jumped off the stage, ignoring the excited screams of the fans, ignoring security as they scrambled to protect him, ignoring everything but her. Her. Who was she anyway? Determined to find out, Brian reached out to grab her hand, to force her to look at him. She had had her eyes closed the whole time, gently rocking back and forth in her seat, not seeing him advance towards her. Her eyes flew open wide when she felt his touch; large, round globes of vast darkness staring directly at him.

Brian instantly dropped his hand from hers, stumbling back, in shock. He had been singing the whole time he came near, to convince the crowd it was all part of the act, but now he couldn't even utter a single word. The cold. The pain. Extreme, excruciating pain that shot right through him when he made contact, leaving him shuddering, quaking with fear. Her. That thing. It...