CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
 
Brian reached with his hand to massage the back of his neck, trying to rub the soreness out. He glanced at his watch, noting the time. It had been a long and exhausting afternoon, the band and dancers practicing over and over again to get the new song down pat. Brian deliberately ignored the undisguised looks of resentment and hostility thrown at him as he ran them through another rehearsal, wishing he could just as easily ignore the dark shadow of Xavier who sat quietly in the front row, observing. Brian didn't need to turn around to know he was being watched, he could feel the penetrating stare of the bodyguard burn into his skull. The last note of the song was a long one, and as he finished it Brian opened his eyes to see the rest of the group surveying him, waiting sullenly for him to repeat, "one more time."

"Uh, I guess that's it, y'all. Thanks for taking the time to work on this."

Brian heard mutter of "as if we had a choice" and "do we get paid overtime?" filter by him as they left the stage. Walking over to the cooler on the quickly deserted stage, Brian reached down to search for a cold bottle of water. He felt Xavier surface up from behind him and Brian took his sweet time drinking, not wanting to face him. Brian finished the bottle and with irritation turned to look at the bodyguard who had waited patiently for him to acknowledge his presence. He gave Xavier a sour look, tossing the empty away and bent down to reach a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Everything to your satisfaction?" he scoffed. 

Xavier ignored him, sticking his hands casually into his pockets as he wandered around the stage, nonchalantly examining the band's equipment.

Brian shrugged. "Great," replied, answering his own question. He snatched his bag and headed towards the dressing room. Fingers of steel wrapped around Brian's upper arm, stopping his exit. Dragging the young singer close, Xavier stared at him a moment, looking him over.

"So what happened?" he questioned calmly, his eyes searching Brian's.

Brian tried to wrench away, but gave up as Xavier's hand tightened into a vice-like grip. "What are you talking about?" he asked evenly, his stomach twisting with fear, wondering just how much Xavier knew.

"Don't fuck with me," said Xavier lightly. "Harry quits, you punched someone at Burger King…" Xavier prodded, waiting for an explanation. Brian coolly looked down at the beefy hand that was crushing his arm, then up at Xavier.

"Let me go."

Xavier eyed him for a moment then released his stronghold. Brian moved away, massaging his arm. What should he say? His mind raced, trying to figure how much Xavier knew, how much he didn't. No one knew where the hell Harry was and Brian was positive none of the guys had talked to X. He decided to go with what Xavier had already questioned him about.

"Harry quit because we were all horsing around in the bus and he got angry," answered Brian simply, leaving out the real reason. "He lost his temper, took off, left us right in the middle of nowhere." Brian kept his voice steady, trying to sound bored. "All of us were hungry so we stopped at Burger King and some kid got jealous because his girlfriend was flirting with Nick. He was about to punch Nick when I decked him. End of story."

Xavier had hitched his hip onto the end of a massive speaker, his hands crossed in front of him as he listened to Brian's explanation. "Just horsing around, huh?"

Brian wondered if Xavier could see how shaky he felt. "Yeah, horsing around," he repeated, fighting to keep his expression neutral.

Xavier stood up and gave a massive stretch. "Hmm," he said, noncommittal. Brian watched him, unsettled by his casual manner. Did Xavier believe him or not? Ill at ease, Brian edged past the bodyguard, anxious to leave. He almost made it past but once again the quick hand of Xavier blocked his way. Xavier leaned in, his mouth brushing against the blond singer's ear. "You're a poor liar. But that's okay. It just makes the game more interesting."

The closeness of his mouth, the warmth of Xavier's breath against him made Brian physically sick. He yanked hard, ripping free of the bodyguard's hold and vaulted off the stage, running up the aisle. He reached the top and kept on running, unable to rid his mind of the sinister laughter that floated up behind him.

   * * * * *

Nick was in a foul mood and everyone knew it. It had been a particularly pain-in-the-ass day starting with Brian begging off a PR meeting, complaining of a headache, and asking Nick to fill in for him. Nick reluctantly agreed and left with the limo driver, only to have the driver get them completely lost. Finally reaching their destination, after an hour of confused driving. Nick's tolerance level dropped another notch when he discovered the publicity meeting had been canceled. Leaving, he had climbed back into the limo, only to get stuck in freeway traffic for two more hours due to an overturned semi. Nick waited in agony, needing to pee bad, having unwisely drank a large soda before he left. Now, back at the arena he just wanted to enjoy a few moments in the game room before starting the tedious job of getting ready for another show.

Nick walked along side AJ, on their way to their dressing room, when he saw their drummer striding towards them. Nick said a quick hello, his hand frozen in mid-air as the drummer ignored him, not giving Nick a second glance. Nick noticed their lead guitar guy right behind the drummer and called out to him.

"Hey, seen Bri anywhere around?" asked Nick hopefully, wanting to see if Brian would go a couple of rounds with him. It seemed like forever since they had played against each other. The guitarist gave the blond singer 'a what-planet-are-you-from look' and walked away with a disgusted wave of his hand. Nick turned to AJ in amazement.

"Damn! All I wanted to know is if he knew where Bri was. What the hell is the matter with him?" AJ shook his head tiredly as they rounded the corner to enter the dressing room. Irritated, Nick whacked the door open then slumped down dejectedly on the couch. "Get the feeling that everyone is ignoring me?" he questioned. He gazed up to see AJ not listening, his hip hitched over the edge of a chair, punching a few numbers on his cell phone. Nick sighed. "Yep."

* * * * *

CHAPTER FIFTY - A CHANGE IN THE PROGRAM

Nick felt Kevin accidentally jostle him as the guys ran off stage, the jittery streaks of blue lights dancing across their faces as they quickly struggled out of their outfits and into the last ones for the night. Kevin slapped Nick apologetically on the shoulder for his clumsiness and flashed him an index finger indicating one song, one more song, and the night was over, finished. Nick heaved a sigh of relief and grinned back at the dark-haired singer, nodding in agreement. A towel was shoved in front of his face and he took it gratefully, wiping the sweat off his forehead and neck, hurriedly glancing around for the others.

The stage crew were feverishly helping Howie and AJ to adjust their headsets and he craned his head around to hunt for Brian. Unable to locate him, he turned to AJ, who looked like he was also searching for Brian's whereabouts. Without warning, a mad eruption of screams arose from the audience, startling all four. The band began to play, the voice of Brian heard rising above it all.

Incredulous, Nick and AJ's eyes met, confirming their bewilderment. Nick hand signaled a question mark to AJ who shrugged his shoulders, unable to reply due to the blaring music. All four rapidly elbowed their way to the edge of the stage, astonished at the sudden change in program.

Howie leaned across AJ for a better look. "Look…" he breathed.

Brian was on the left side of the stage, bending over the edge, waving and singing to the crowd as the dancers swayed behind him. The music was something totally new to them, the song never heard before until now. The tempo was upbeat, the rhythm and style suggestive of the band Santana.

Opened-mouthed the four watched the intricate movements of the dancers, Brian intertwining himself between each dancer as he sang.

AJ listened, mesmerized. It was good, very good, but nothing like a Backstreet song. It was a song designed for one person and one person only, not a group of five.

"What does Brian think he's doing?" yelled Nick to the others, exasperated.

AJ knew. Heart sinking, he grabbed Nick's arm a moment for support, the shock hitting him hard. He knew without a doubt what Brian was doing because he himself had dreamed about it. Brian was leaving Backstreet. Going out on his own. The only difference was that AJ would never up and quit the band. His ties were too strong, his devotion to the guys too great. His plans were for the far future, when the Backstreet Boys were no longer a group. He felt his resentment grow as the picture began to fit together, like so many pieces of a puzzle falling into place. He understood now the reasoning behind Brian's strategy for a new look, a different style that would separate himself from the group. AJ gritted his teeth. It also explained Brian's recent behavior, his angry outbursts and sullen moods. Somewhere along the way Brian had also brought Xavier into it, possibly as his advisor, maybe more. Barely able to contain his anger he explained to Nick and the others."Guys, Brian is going to quit."

"Huh? What?" Kevin looked at AJ in disbelief. "Are you crazy? Brian wouldn't do that!"

AJ turned around to glare at Kevin, his face dark. "Oh, yeah? Think about it. Think hard." AJ jerked his thumb viciously at the stage. "So what's Brian doing, singing a new song? Did we know about it? No. And how about the way he's been acting lately, his association with Xavier? All strange."

"But," began Howie, upset.

AJ cut him off with a sharp slash of his hand."D," he growled, "I know. I know because it's what I want to do." He saw the shocked looks on his friend's faces and shook his head. "Not now! Someday, when Backstreet is no more, when we all decide to go our separate ways."

Howie nodded, remembering a long ago conversation he had with AJ. They had talked about 'what if' scenarios, each coming to the same conclusion that they would try individual careers once the group was finished.

Nick let out a harsh noise and all turned to stare at him. His blue eyes were filled with loathing, his face hardened with shock and anger as Brian's betrayal set in. "I'm gonna kill him," he stated, his voice heavy with bitterness.

Kevin sagged against the side of a steel pillar as if the support was the only thing keeping him up. "It makes sense," he spoke wearily, a look of hurt spreading across his face. He abruptly straightened up, his injured expression turning into one of rage as the music faded away and Brian rushed backstage, his face flush from the moment.

Furious, Kevin reached out to grab his cousin only to find AJ beating him to it, slamming Brian up a wall, his face mere inches from Brian's."You traitor!" he hissed savagely. "All this time, we were concerned about you but you were just jerking us around, weren't you?"

Stunned from the blow, his head swimming from the force of AJ's ambush, Brian began to struggle, only to feel himself being body-slammed again as AJ roughly pinning his shoulders against the hard wall. He felt, rather than saw Howie pull AJ away, screaming at AJ "not now!" as he shoved the whole group towards the stage for the final song. Howie grabbed Brian by his shirt, yanking harshly as he pulled him back on stage. The others followed and the music began, the routine so automatic by now, that it took little thought or effort to finish the song and say goodnight.

Whether the fans caught the mood of the five was questionable, but the grip on Brian's hand was not as they all bowed simultaneously to the crowd. Brian could feel the rage, the surge of anger course through Nick's hand as he crushed Brian's fingers mercilessly. Trying not to wince, he broke free of the grip and ran off the stage first, rubbing his hand painfully. Brian turned to see the other four exiting off stage, heard the frantic yells of the stage crew to "hurry" so that all five could run to the safety of their waiting bus before the music died.

AJ had other plans. Effectively blocking Brian's path down the hallway, he ignored the excited cries of the crews' "come on" and advanced menacingly toward the blond singer. AJ shoved Brian hard, causing him to stumble backwards a few steps. He shoved again, this time harder, and Brian would have lost his balance if not for the wall that he crashed into.

AJ ripped off his glasses, flinging them away. "Mind explaining yourself?" he screamed.

Brian braced himself against the wall and straightened up, praying for control. "What's there to explain?" he replied, his voice maddeningly calm.

Kevin rushed up to Brian, his hand pushed hard against Brian's shoulder. "Don't give us that!" he snarled, his green eyes glittering with anger. "You're up to something, aren't you?" Brian gazed into his cousin's eyes, not saying a word. Furious at Brian's silence, Kevin leaned closer. "Aren't you?"

AJ felt the nervous tug of a stage crew pulling at his sleeve, and turned away from Brian and Kevin, eyeing the now crowded hallway, irritated by the sudden swell of spectators. He spread his arms wide, pissed. "Is this any of your business? Get outta here, before somebody loses their job!" The hallway scattered quickly, leaving only the five Backstreet Boys.

Howie, who had been silent all this time, walked up to Brian. He glanced at Kevin, who was still fuming, waiting for Brian to answer. Howie reached over and pried Kevin's hand off his cousin's shoulder, wedging himself between the two. "Brian, don't screw around with us. Are you thinking about leaving the group?" Howie's voice was composed, his dark eyes commanding Brian to answer.

"Yes."

The simple answer, barely audible from Brian, drew a sharp breath from all four, stung by his confession.

Heart pounding, shaking from his admission, Brian watched in dark fascination as the scene around him took on a surreal, slow-motioned effect. Kevin backed away, the anger and shock registering on his face almost too painful for Brian to bear. He turned in a dreamlike motion to see the fierce loathing radiating from AJ's eyes, to view the incredible expression of betrayal coming from Howie. Brian seemed to be floating, his mind disconnect from his body. Feeling unsteady, he sought support, propping himself against the firm wall to search for the face of his best friend. Brian but had a second to locate Nick's position before he was tackled, the larger body of the youngest Backstreet Boy knocking Brian completely off his feet. Brian and Nick fell in a heap, a sharp pain shattering Brian out of his trance-like state as his left wrist snapped underneath his body. He felt Nick grab a portion of his shirt to haul him upright, felt the blow of Nick's fist smash across his mouth. The pain that radiated from his wrist and lip was no match for the agony Brian felt when he saw Nick's face. It was one of raw hatred, the total destruction of their friendship exploding in one savage look.

"You lying son-of-a-bitch!" screamed Nick, his sobs of rage mixing in with his wild swings. Brian took the blows, not fighting back, hoping Nick's physical punches would numb his mental torment.

Three sets of hands ripped Nick bodily off Brian, holding the angry Backstreet Boy at bay.

"Nick!'' yelled Howie, as Kevin, AJ, and he struggled to keep Nick from lunging back at the fallen singer. "Nick! Stop it!"

Brian struggled to sit up, wincing at the razor sharp pain that lanced through his wrist. He switched to his right hand to push himself up, then staggered upright. He wiped the blood away from his cut lip with the sleeve of his shirt, breathing heavily. "Whose next?" he coughed, as he spat some blood onto the ground.

AJ let go of Nick and came up to Brian, trying to contain his anger. "Me, if I knew that would help." AJ leaned in closer, his voice low and clear as he poked Brian viciously in his chest."But how's this for starters, Bri? I'm not gonna let you go. In fact, none of us will. No matter how much shit you pull, you're staying with Backstreet. We haven't come this far to let you destroy the group."

The shock in Brian's expression was more than AJ could hope for. He watched as the bloodied young singer's face fell, almost swearing he read fear and disbelief in Brian's eyes. Brian turned his attention towards Nick, who was still being held back by Kevin and Howie. Nick nodded his approval and Brian slumped with defeat, hanging his head. AJ looked back at Kevin, Howie, and Nick, a smile of grim satisfaction spreading. His smile faded as his attention was caught by a massive shadow that was reclining quietly against the wall, the lone witness to the confrontation. AJ frowned, his temper frayed by Xavier's defiance to his order for everyone to leave. "Same thing goes for you, Xavier. I don't know what your little plan with Brian here is, but I can tell you it isn't going to work."

Xavier unfolded his arms that were wrapped across his chest and slowly came into view, his face calm and collected."Hey, I'm just as in the dark as you guys. I had no idea what Brian was up to."

AJ snorted his disbelief as Nick, Kevin, and Howie turned to look at the bodyguard in surprise. No one noticed the strange look Brian directed towards the bodyguard.

Xavier shrugged, his tone bored. "As you know, Brian hasn't been the easiest to bodyguard, what with that intruder and threats. When he asked me to help him out, get in shape, I didn't feel like I had the right to refuse his requests, even if they seemed a little strange. Hey, I've been thinking about asking management to reassign me for quite a while. I may bodyguard Brian, but I work for Backstreet."

AJ stared at Xavier, astounded by his declaration. Could it be possible that he was wrong about him? He shook his head, uncertain. He disliked Xavier, hell, he hated him, but he was the only one in the group who did. Could it have been borne out of his frustration with Brian's recent behavior? He noticed that Xavier had not come to Brian's rescue when Nick was pounding the shit out of him, nor did he seem particularly concerned about the bruised and bleeding Backstreet Boy right now. Too confused to consider the ramifications at the moment, AJ ignored the bodyguard and turned his attention to Brian.

Brian was looking over AJ's shoulder to stare at Xavier, dumbfounded. His mind reeled with the bodyguard's sudden confession, completely taken aback. What was going on? His mind raced for an explanation, knowing Xavier too well to believe his story. It would be just like Xavier to change the "game" completely, to throw Brian off-track. Ignoring the pain as his wrist began to throb in earnest, Brian berated himself for not realizing the possibility of Xavier outmaneuvering him. This was a game after all, guided by Xavier's whims, not rules. Brian now saw the logic in it, the brilliance in setting him up, of pitting one Backstreet Boy against the other. Now with Brian's betrayal, Xavier could enjoy the fruits of his labor by watching the disintegration of the trust, respect, and friendship Brian had with his bandmates. This pleasure would far outshine anything Brian had to offer Xavier by going solo, for now he had to endure the humiliation of staying with the group, knowing any hope of forgiveness from the guys was forever shattered. Xavier stared back at Brian, a hint of a smile quickly passing across the bodyguard's lips. That quick flicker of understanding between them was the only thing Brian needed to confirm his suspicions.

Xavier walked over to Brian, grabbing his wrist in a less than gentle manner and examined it. Brian gasped out in pain as Xavier nodded.

"Looks like you broke it," he stated off-handedly. "Better see a doctor." Xavier turned to talk to Nick, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You throw quite a punch," he commented as Brian caught a peculiar tone in his voice. Xavier glanced at the other three. "Looks like you guys need a diversion now to escape out of here. What do you say I create one?" With a flick of his hand he ushered the four down the hallway, no one pausing to glance back at the lone figure holding his broken wrist upright.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE - TEST OF WILLS

Brian flinched as the young intern positioned his hand for a flat x-ray. He had warned the young singer that the possibility of it being broken was great. No shit! thought Brian sourly as his hand was repositioned for another scan. He waited patiently for the technician to return with the film, trying his best to ignore the stares and giggles of a flood of nurses who seemed to endlessly stroll past his exam room. He glanced at his hand, watching in dismay at the dark discoloration that had spread out past his wrist.

He wriggled his finger's experimentally to see if he could move them without pain. Nope. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment's rest only to snap them open. Great. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Nick's face, the accusing anger radiating from his eyes. Not wanting to dwell on that, Brian turned his attention to stare at the various boring educational posters on the wall. He tried reading them from where he sat, the print too small to understand. His thoughts turned back to Nick and annoyed, tried to shove them away. There was something nagging at the back of his mind, something he should be investigating, but right now he was too weary to care.

A sharp rap at the door announced the radiologist's return and Brian turned to see him placing the x-rays on the viewer. "Good news," he announced, "you've broken your wrist… right here," pointing at the screen.

Brian snorted. "That's good news?"

The doctor gave him a look. "Yeah. Anywhere else and I would have recommended surgery to place some pins in. All you need is a cast."

"Oh." Brian felt foolish, wishing he were anywhere else but here.

The doctor nodded, snapping down the x-ray. "Yes, very lucky." He came over to give the Backstreet Boy a sympathetic smile. "We'll have you fixed in no time. There should be someone here shortly to start the casting."

Brian nodded, then remembered something. "Hey, what about something for the pain?" he yelled at the doctor's retreating back. Sighing, he rolled his eyes, looking at his watch. He had been here over three hours; even with his status the only thing he had been granted was privacy, still having to wait his turn for treatment.

He swung his legs in boredom, scanning for a phone. Brian gave a short laugh. Who was he gonna call - Nick? Irritated that his thoughts turned again towards his best friend, he forced himself to think of something else. He couldn't. What was it that was bugging him so much? He gingerly eased himself off the examining table, his mind in a turmoil as he paced the small room. He flashed back to the falling out, the look in Nick's eyes, the look in Xavier's eyes….

Brian stopped dead in his tracks, his heart pounding in fear. Oh God!

He now remembered the peculiarity in Xavier's voice when he commented on Nick's punch, the way he offered to take all four back to the hotel without offering any help to Brian. Xavier wanted Brian away, by himself at the hospital, while Xavier had the guys at his disposal. Especially Nick. Without a doubt Brian knew that Nick was next in line for one of the bodyguard's nasty little surprises.

He rushed to the door, only to be stopped by a young technician carrying the casting supplies. "Whoa, hey there!" he cried in surprise. "I'm here, I'm here."

Brian grabbed him with his good right hand, pulling him close. "How long is this gonna take?" he questioned urgently.

The technician shrugged. "Maybe an hour."

"I'll give you a thousand dollars if you can do it in twenty minutes. Also, call me a cab."

Eyes wide open in surprise, the young man began to argue but stopped when he saw the expression on Brian's face. He held out a hand, indicating for Brian to hop back onto the table and gave the singer a crooked grin. "Let's rock!" he agreed not noticing the wince Brian gave to the unintentional nickname.

* * * * * *

Brian ground his teeth in desperation, furious at the taxi driver who seemed to be taking forever to reach the hotel. Having been in enough taxis to know the routine, Brian leaned over the front seat with the promise of a huge tip on his lips, when he noticed a dull shine of silver glinting on the front passenger seat. Looking closer, Brian saw a very slim, very illegal switchblade, lying across the cab driver's clipboard. Brian slowly eased back in his seat, his mind racing. Ripping open his wallet, Brian waved an impressive bill, the universal language to all cab drivers, and in less than ten minutes Brian was tearing out the taxi, switchblade tucked safely in his pocket and sprinting into the hotel lobby. It was relatively deserted, relative being a vague term, as die-hard fans were still camped inside the lobby, hoping against hope to catch a sight. Taken by surprise, they had only few moments to stare open-mouthed as Brian sped by them, catching an open elevator door and waving a quick goodbye as the doors shut closed. Brian hit the eighteenth floor, pacing in the elevator's small enclosure. Hurry, Hurry… he screamed to himself, a wave of dread surrounding him. The door opened with a small chime and he jumped out, not giving Eric, the night bodyguard, more than a quick glance as he raced down the quiet hallway.

Brian stopped halfway, confused about the room number. He turned to Eric, who was staring at him in a perplexed way.

"Eric! What room is Nick in?"

"1809," replied Eric. "But he's not there."

A fine bead of perspiration trickled down Brian's forehead and he wiped it quickly away. "Where is he?" shouted Brian, the panic now noticeable in his voice. Eric frowned at the agitated singer and strode over to him.

"With the other guys," he replied slowly.

"And where exactly are they?" yelled Brian.

"With Xavier."

"Where's Xavier?" screamed Brian, now at his wit's end.

Eric shrugged, unresponsive.

"Someone looking for us?"

Brian and Eric turned to see Xavier walking calmly down the hall, followed by Kevin, Nick, Howie and AJ. An awkward silence followed, each guy uncomfortably eyeing a disheveled Brian and his newly-cast wrist. Xavier gave a short nod to Eric and Eric sighed in relief, glad his shift was over. He looked at all five of the tense Backstreet Boys and made a mental note to ask management for a raise. A big one.

"Where have you been?"

AJ caught the shakiness in Brian's voice and started to reply when he noticed the question was not directed at them, but to Xavier.

Xavier shrugged nonchalantly. "Just chauffeuring the guys around."

Brian turned to look at the guys for confirmation and it annoyed AJ that he had to be held accountable for his whereabouts. He brushed by Brian, not giving him an explanation, and the others followed suite, Nick being the only one to comment snidely if Brian's hand hurt as he walked by.

Holding direct eye contact with Brian, Xavier said nothing until he heard the respective clicks of doors closing. He scrutinized the singer's hand, an eyebrow raised. "Looks painful." He paused for a moment, waiting for a reply. Receiving none, he continued. "Guess I'm going to have to teach you how to box one-handed. Better yet, maybe I'll teach Nick. Kid's got potential."

"You so much as touch him…" threatened Brian, "I'll kill you."

"You and who else…" began Xavier, his voice trailing off as he discovered the tip of a very sharp switchblade poised at the edge of his throat. Xavier recognized the make, impressed that Brian was able to locate such an deadly weapon. His eyes glittered with grudging admiration but his senses screamed to be careful. Brian had more than enough skill to kill him where he stood and by the look in his eyes, the desire to do so. Xavier backed away carefully. "Well, you surprise me."

Brian kept the blade open, his hand steady, allowing a ghost of a smile to pass his lips. "Good. Guess I'm not the only one who can change the game."

"Ah," spoke Xavier, nodding. "I knew you'd catch onto my change of plans soon enough." He leaned against the side of the hallway, completely relaxed and seemingly unconcerned about the blade Brian still wielded. "Looks like I'm still your bodyguard for the tour." He stretched, trying to stifle a yawn as Brian absorbed the information.

"Yeah," continued Xavier, "the guys I and discussed it tonight. As much as I protested, they begged me to stay with you." Xavier flashed an evil grin, his amusement great as he watched the switchblade waver for a moment. "I said okay but on two conditions. First, a big raise." He paused, not elaborating on the second one.

"And …?" Brian questioned, pissed at Xavier's little game of always making him prod for the rest of the information.

"Two, no questions asked on the way I have to keep your sorry ass under control for the rest of the tour."

Xavier smirked at the expressions that flickered across the Backstreet Boy's face, first disbelief, then shock, and finally hatred. No questions asked would give Xavier free reign in the game, any unconventional behavior on the bodyguard's part would be ignored by the guys, thinking it was just a part of Xavier's way of keeping Brian in check. He felt the bile rising in his throat.

"Yep," Xavier sighed, with great exaggeration, "looks like you screwed up real good. You should of let me break up the band, instead of you. Now it looks like you're stuck with me and your pissed off Backstreet buddies." A wide grin spread across the bodyguard's face, indicating that was exactly what he had planned all along.

The blade lowered a little, but not enough to make a difference. "What else?" asked Brian, his voice filled with bitterness.

"Else?"

"Come on, I know there's more."

A true expression of approval crept across Xavier's face. "Smart. I like that. Well, to tell you the truth, I think it's time to change the game. I'm bored again."

Brian snorted in reply. "The truth? As in 'when you wanted me to go solo' truth?"

"Yeah, I did kind of mess with your mind, didn't I? Hmmm. Well, you'll believe this because you yourself told me."

"Told what?" Brian's painkiller was wearing thin as well as his patience.

Xavier leaned forward, pushing himself from the wall. "Everything's always about money, Xavier!" he recited back to Brian.

Brian stared back at Xavier, remembering the accusation he had screamed at him. His heart skipped a beat as he realized this might be the way to get rid of him. "So, you figured money is what you really want, huh?" he mocked. "How much to leave me alone?"

The bodyguard gave a hoot of laughter. "It's not that easy. Sorry. I'm still enjoying our game immensely. No, I figured I'm not getting any older and you're not getting any poorer, so why not share the wealth? I don't want to be a bodyguard forever, you know?"

"Really." Brian's voice dripped with sarcasm. "And just how much is it going to take to make you a happy ex-bodyguard?"

"Depends," answered Xavier and Brian sighed at his vague reply, suddenly tired beyond belief. His right hand shook from holding the knife, the left demanding a painkiller.

Xavier tilted his head at the gleaming switchblade. "Are you planning to use that or what?" he jeered.

"Possibly. I suppose it depends on when, doesn't it?"

Xavier eyes narrowed, the bantering between them gone. "A threat? Good. I like being on familiar ground." He walked up to the blond singer, the blade just touching under Xavier's ribcage. Throughout their talk Xavier had studied Brian carefully, examining his stance, his attitude. He now knew that given the heat of a moment, the singer was capable of killing, but once his anger subsided was unable to do so. He decided to test it.

"Go ahead, stick it in me. Do it. No one will see," he purred. Brian's eyes opened wide and Xavier could see the temptation in them. "Yes, I can see you want to," he soothed, "and it would be so easy, wouldn't it? All your problems, fears, gone. Do it," he whispered, "come on."

Tears of frustration welled up in Brian's eyes as his hand shook, the desire overwhelming, the nightmare over if he could just push the blade a mere six inches further. He knew it was a test, a strength of wills between them. His blue eyes stared, transfixed on the wavering blade he clutched tightly, trying to work up the fury he possessed just minutes ago. Slowly Brian flipped the blade into a closed position, backing away. Disgusted by his lack of nerve, he turned and walked away, heading for the solitude of his room as Xavier's satisfied laughter echoed down the hallway.

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