CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN - THE MORNING AFTER

The back of his head bumped painfully on the floor and it took a dazed moment or two before Brian could focus on the grim face of Xavier who had cruelly yanked him out of his warm bed. Tangle up in his bed sheets, Brian floundered for a minute before being able to free himself. He staggered up, bringing his hand to cradle his head, glaring at Xavier before trying to see what time it was. He peered at the green glow of his clock. It read 4:32. As in AM? Unsure, Brian looked again. It now read 4:33. Early morning. Very early morning.

He shuffled over to the bathroom, ignoring Xavier as he reached for the Advil. He knew he would regret it later taking the pills on an empty stomach, but found an upset stomach over a raging headache the lesser of two evils. Brian could hear Xavier rummaging around in his room, but long ceased to care about it. He remembered the sleeping pills incident; he knew whatever the bodyguard wanted he would eventually find, no matter how careful he was to hide it.

Brian came out of the bathroom to see Xavier hand him some clothing; Brian accepted it without a word and began to dress. Brian could sense the curiosity aroused in Xavier at his quiet obedience and inwardly acknowledged it with a grim smile. Keep the bastard off-guard. He tied the last shoe and straightened up, looking directly at the bodyguard.

"Well?" he said sarcastically. "Time’s wasting."

Xavier handed him a water bottle, his curious expression now replaced with a much harder one. Silently they both trotted down the stairway and out the hotel side door. It was cold, too cold for Brian’s Southern bones, and he shivered as he glanced around. Except for a few maintenance men, the place was deserted.

"Stretch," Xavier ordered, and Brian began a series of bending exercises, trying to limber up. It took about five minutes and then Xavier growled to start and they both took off jogging. Brian noticed after about a mile that the area changed into a rather slum area and he threw the hood of his sweat jacket over his head, hoping Xavier wasn’t leading him somewhere unpleasant. As if I had a choice! he thought glumly, running faster to keep up with Xavier’s insane pace. The one good thing about jogging was that in order to ignore the pain in your legs and chest, you had to concentrate on something else. Mercifully Xavier didn’t speak so Brian could think.

He relived last night, experiencing the euphoria as all five excitedly hurried off stage, the screaming and clapping for an encore deafening. The concert had been perfect, the timing and execution so incredibly flawless that not only did the group know it, the audience did too. This knowledge heightened their performance onstage, each singer relaxed and happy, each feeding off one another’s talents and skills. Brian was determined to enjoy every last second with the group so he basically ignored Xavier’s heated glares directed at him during the show.

Nick was beyond excited, he literally bounced off the walls in delight after the show. Kevin, the most serious of the bunch, was slapping everyone’s shoulder. Howie and AJ were both screaming for a celebration and Brian smiled as he ran, recalling how AJ had managed to sneak all five out to party after the show without Xavier catching them.

It had been fairly late when they got back to the hotel, Nick and AJ failing miserably to keep it quiet as they stumbled down the hallway. Nervous about Xavier, Brian had kept his drinking to a minimum and was glad he did; he could have never survived jogging with a massive hangover, the little sleep he got would be punishment enough. Brian sneaked a guarded glance at Xavier as they jogged, wondering how much the bodyguard knew. Sighing inwardly he wondered what else Xavier had planned for them today. The two ran past a breakfast diner and Brian’s stomach grumbled as the smell of bacon filled the air. I’m starving, he thought but Xavier jogged past and disappointed, Brian followed.

* * * * * *

Brian slumped wearily into his chair, exhausted and famished. He felt his stomach cramp in pain and grimaced, trying hard to ignore it. Xavier had outdone himself, driving Brian to the point of exhaustion with exercise, not letting up for a second. It was then that Brian knew Xavier was punishing him for last night and determined not to let the bodyguard see how fatigued he was, Brian pushed on. Now his body screamed for food and rest, and Brian was too tired to do anything about it. His eye caught a small flashing light and he struggled over to grab his pager. Throughout their tours it was required for all five to carry one, management not wanting the scare it had when Nick had accidentally shown up late for one performance. With a twinge of guilt, Brian scanned the pager, taking some comfort that Xavier had not allowed him access to it when they ran. Brian checked each one, saving some, rejecting others. He gazed uncomprehendingly for a moment at the last one, his mind weary. It read 55555, their own code for emergency among the group. Brian dropped the pager as if scalded, he had only seen that code one other time. His mind raced, trying not to panic and he hurried down the hall in search of Kevin. He knocked hard on the door, kicking it with his foot for good measure. No one answered. He then ran down and turned the corner to Nick’s. The same result. AJ’s! He turned the other way, trying to remember the number. Now he was in a panic, and he flew down the hall to see a door ajar. He rushed in, nearly colliding with Kevin. Wild-eyed he glanced about. Nick was reclining against the bed, his eyes closed. AJ was standing, drinking what looked to be hard liquor. Kevin glared at his cousin, looking too angry to speak. But it was Howie that caught Brian’s full attention. He was slumped over in a chair, his hands covering his face. With the sickest of feelings, Brian felt his stomach flip-flop and he broke out in a nervous stutter.

"Wha...What happened?" he pleaded. He looked at Howie again, praying.

AJ came over to him, but not before handing his drink to Howie and ordering him to down it. "Where the hell were you, man? Don’t you know what 55555 means? Shit!"

Brian held his hands up in the air. "I’m sorry. I forgot to carry it." He knew he couldn’t explain why. He grabbed AJ by the arm. "What’s going on?"

Kevin spoke up, being blunt. "Howie’s house. It burned down last night."

Almost giddy with relief about not hearing of someone’s near death, Brian let out an unfortunate shaky laugh. "That’s it? That’s all?" He immediately regretted his mistake, seeing the expressions on everyone’s face.

AJ smacked Brian’s arm away, disgusted. "That’s it? That’s all?" he mimicked. "Well excuse us for bothering you." He turned away from Brian, going back to sit near Howie.

Nick shook in head in amazement, giving Kevin a "he’s your cousin" look. Kevin gazed at Brian, at a loss for words.

Embarrassed, Brian looked straight at Howie and walked over, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. "I’m sorry, D." he said softly. "Really. I know how much that house meant to you." Brian thought back to the newly completed house, barely finished before they had to go on tour. Howie had been so excited, asking everyone’s opinion on the design, taking advice from all, wisely ignoring AJ’s opinion on decorating style.

Howie nodded, accepting Brian’s sympathy even if AJ didn’t. AJ snorted in disgust over Brian’s apology and Brian chose to ignore it. "How did it happen?"

Howie sighed. "I talked to the police last night...." but Brian interrrupted, confused.

"Don’t you mean firefighters?"

AJ finished for Howie. "He means police. It was arson. Someone has it out for D and apparently was not too subtle about it. His place was soaked with gasoline. Went off like a bomb. He lost everything."

"Everything?"

Howie, holding his now empty glass, looked up and nodded at Brian. His liquid brown eyes held so much hurt that Brian had to turn away, distraught. He hung his head down for a moment, trying to gain some composure. Without a doubt, he knew Xavier had caused it. Brian felt suddenly lightheaded, the information too unbearable to contemplate. He glanced at the four faces before him, all reflecting the sorrow and anger they felt for their friend’s situation. Brian took a deep breath, a sudden claustrophobic feeling enclosing around him. He needed to get out. To find Xavier. Right now. He stumbled towards the door, hearing Nick’s surprised voice call, "Where are you going?"

"I need to see Xavier," Brian croaked, his voice barely audible.

"Xavier!" AJ roared. "What the hell for?"

Brian turned, his hand resting on the doorknob. "Maybe, Xavier can help," he lied. "He has a lot of contacts down there. He might be able to find out something."

AJ was incensed. "Forget it! Under no circumstances do I want that asshole helping us with anything!"

Brian looked at AJ without saying a word. He turned to go, hearing disbelief in AJ’s voice. "Shit, will you look at that! He’s running off to find his bodyguard, instead of staying here. Some friend you are!" he yelled at Brian’s retreating back, not being able to see the look of anguish on Brian’s face as he walked, then ran down the hall.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT – A BATTLE

It wasn’t difficult for Brian to locate Xavier - the bodyguard’s room was always located next door to his. Brian tried to keep his building anger down to a minimum; to explode with rage would only get him a sore stomach and no answers. The door was ajar, and suspicious, Brian cautiously pushed it farther open. He saw Xavier, sitting down, phone in hand. He looked up, waving Brian in with a friendly gesture, his posture relaxed, his face peaceful. Brian walked in a few feet and stopped, his nails digging into the palms of his hands for control.

Xavier finished his conversation a minute later. He replaced the phone in its cradle and turned to look at Brian, lacing his hands behind his neck. "So, what’s new?" A small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. The smirk was what got to the young singer and Brian felt his control evaporate.

"You know damn well, what’s up. Why did you torch his house?" Brian watched in surprise as Xavier nimbly jumped up, coming over to shove Brian’s arms up in the air. It took no more than a few seconds for the bodyguard to frisk him. Satisfied, Xavier nodded, and returned to his seat. He noticed Brian’s angry look.

"Checking to see if you had a tape recorder. You don’t. So, you were saying again?"

Idiot! Brian cursed himself thoroughly, upset that he had never once considered doing that. "Howie’s home. Why?" He kept his voice low, even if he couldn’t keep the anger out of it.

Xavier yawned, studying his fingernails. "The explosion was rather overdramatic, wasn’t it? Hired help. You can never get good hired help."

Brian hated him. Pure, unconcealed hatred shown from his eyes, enough anger showing to make the bodyguard raise his eyebrows. Xavier’s face slowly turned cold, his eyes matching the same intensity as the young singer standing before him.

"Judging by last night, it seems like you forgot our agreement. I just thought you needed a little reminder." Xavier smiled, enjoying the reaction he caught on Brian’s face. He arose from his seat, turning away from the young singer. Needling him further, he sighed. "The hard part, the really hard part, mind you, was not being able to torch his mom’s house. She wasn’t there that night, so I figured, why waste good gasoline?"

The smash to the back of the bodyguard’s head came suddenly and violently. Xavier dropped like a stone and Brian stood in shock amazement, the heavy metal flashlight that he had grabbed lying on Xavier’s dresser, dropping from his hand. He gave an uneasy laugh, nervously running his fingers through his hair. I did it, he thought, an overwhelming sensation of relief and delight flooding him. Looking down at the still figure, Brian edged away, apprehensive. Feeling on the verge of panic, he first eyed the phone then decided instead to go get help. He ran to the door and paused, turning to view the prone figure. Tie him up first! rushed through his mind, and he glanced frantically about the room. He noticed a black carry-on bag slid half-way underneath the bed and dropped to one knee to retrieve it. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he shakily opened the zipper, rummaging around. He fingers closed around a heavy roll of duct tape and he yanked it out with jerk. Yes. With grim determination Brian stood up, and went over to Xavier, kneeling next him. Ignoring the blood that seeped from the back of Xavier’s head, he ripped off a long length off the silver roll, grabbing the bodyguard’s massive left hand. Quickly he wrapped the length around Xavier’s wrist a few times, reaching across his back to grasp the right hand. That was as far as he got. With a mighty heave, Xavier turned over, knocking Brian’s grip loose. Unsteady, Xavier managed to stagger upright and Brian seized the opportunity to sweep kick at the bodyguard’s feet, sending the giant of a man crashing down. Brian jumped up, leaping over Xavier to escape. A vise grip encircled his left ankle and Brian tripped, falling hard to the ground. Stunned, Brian felt his body being roughly dragged backwards, closer to Xavier. Fear gave him extra strength, and with a desperate wrench, Brian broke free of Xavier’s grasp, scrambling to stand. He almost made it to the door. Grabbing the collar of Brian’s shirt, Xavier jerked him savagely back and spun him around. With a well-timed punch, Xavier lashed out, bringing his fist to smash into the singer’s midsection. His mind groggy with pain, Brian looked up to see the face of Xavier looming over him.

"When you don’t play the game," he said softly, as if lecturing a child, "you have to take the consequences." Wrapping his large hands around the singer’s throat, Xavier began to apply pressure. Brian gagged, trying to pry the thick fingers away. His vision began to blur and he saw two faces, both looking at him with a mixture of anger and regret. "Now Brian, I need you to promise to obey, otherwise something else bad might happen. You wouldn’t want that, would you?"

Given the chance, Brian would have immediately agreed but the pressure increased and Brian struggled, fighting to breathe, fighting to stay conscious. He looked at Xavier, his eyes trying to convey his plea, willing to do anything asked. Xavier finally released his hold with a satisfied grunt, pleased at what he saw in the singer’s face.

Brian swayed, his vision wavering. His body screamed for rest, his mind demanding to be released into the welcoming arms of oblivion. The temptation was overpowering, the allure too sweet to resist. He closed his eyes willingly, thankful for the closing darkness that would surround him and bring relief.

* * * * * *

Kevin tore the offered drink to Howie away from AJ’s hand, irritated by the amount AJ was pushing. "I really don’t think D needs anymore," he commented with a frown.

Nick jumped off the bed, rubbing his face tiredly. "Ditto. Howie needs to be somewhat sober if we’re gonna get him on the next flight out." He glanced at the guys, concerned. "How are we going to get him to the airport? Our bus is leaving soon."

AJ waved that off. "No sweat. We’ll have Harry make a detour." Nick raised his eyes skeptically.

"Oh, Harry will love that. He hates unexpected stops."

"Too bad, who’s paying his salary, anyway?" Kevin said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He gave a large sigh. "Anybody willing to volunteer to go find Brian and tell him what’s happening?"

AJ gave him a sour look, Nick throwing up his hands and shaking his head no. Kevin sighed again. "Yeah, me neither."

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE - ON THE BUS

Kevin stared aimlessly out the bus window, his hand cradling his chin as the scenery flashed before him, mile after endless mile. He usually used the time to catch up on his reading, a passion he never seemed to have enough time for, but now his mind was in such a turmoil he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on even a single word.

The guys were more than just a little surprised to find Xavier and Brian already on board – Brian because he was always the last to arrive, Xavier because they never, ever, had bodyguards travel with them.

AJ frowned darkly as he boarded, Kevin shaking his head slightly at his irritated friend, letting him know now was not the time to argue. Howie had tiredly boarded, too emotionally spent to do anything but slump into his seat and close his eyes. Nick hopped on last, his eyes scanning for any empty seats. He stuffed his bag into an overhead compartment, taking the only seat open, one next to Kevin. He raised his eyes questioningly at the dark-haired singer, noticing Xavier sitting in the back, reading what looked to be some financial magazine. Feeling strange at whispering, he nevertheless leaned over, speaking in a hushed tone.

"Where’s Bri?"

Kevin jerked his head towards the back of the touring bus. "Asleep," he whispered in reply, not sure why he was also speaking in a low voice, only that it seemed somehow right. "X told me that Brian wanted some extra zzz’s."

Nick chewed on his lip a moment, considering. "Should I go check on him?" he asked hesitantly, nodding at Xavier, who’s seating position on the bus made it look like he was guarding the sleeping Backstreet Boy.

Kevin glanced at Xavier, then Nick. "At your own risk," he joked. Nick nodded, knowing that Kevin’s kidding was serious.

* * * * *

Brian awoke with a start, staring into the darkness until his eyes adjusted and then he recognized by the sound and feel that he was on the bus. He wasn’t sure how he got there; he wasn’t sure about anything anymore. He swallowed and a spasm of pain flowed down his throat. His hand reached up to touch his neck and suddenly he remembered. He closed his eyes, the pain and emotions of those last few moments overwhelming him. Slowly the emotions subsided but the pain didn’t fade. He lay there, trying to examine, to explain what he felt. But how could he explain it? A feeling so scary, he didn’t know whether he was imagining it or not. Pains that wracked his body, jumpy muscles, tingling and numbness, cold, then hot. Hungry, yet he didn’t have the energy to eat. Thirsty, yet he had to force himself to drink. Nothing appealed to him. A tight chest, a feeling as if he was being smothered, yet he knew he wasn’t. Shaky inside, yet outside no. Were these feelings there or not? He prayed they weren’t, but it seemed that they never went away. He tried to ignore it, but his body reminded him he couldn’t. Vaguely, he knew he needed to push himself, push to fight. But what kind of fight? The physical or mental? And could he win? Ask for help. No! You must fight it alone. You’re on your own. There is no choice. You must win. Do something! Do it now! It’s your life, the life of others!

Brian brought his hands up to his face, trying to rub out the thoughts racing through his mind. They gradually faded, but he knew they were still there, hiding. So close to the surface, he knew eventually that they would return. He painfully turned onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow. He must decide. He must choose, but he already knew the answer. The choice was not a decision, it was a given, a given decided by Xavier.

He turned his face sideways, staring at the slightly swaying wall of his compartment. He felt the tears forming, and he let them flow, unchecked. He needed this release, this emptying of emotions and fears to be washed away if he were to be successful in breaking up the group. It took a while, just when he thought he was done, a wave of fresh tears overtook him and he would ride it out, patiently waiting for the next onslaught to come and finish. Exhausted, he finally closed his eyes, emotionally and physically spent. He felt numb, a feeling he embraced with almost a fevered passion. He wanted this feeling of nothingness, of no pain, of no anguish. He needed control. He felt himself slipping back to sleep and he sighed, mouthing a small confession. I’m sorry, guys. Forgive me.

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