Everyone enjoys a good party. And New Years always seems to have good parties. But Brian's wasn't really turning out that well for me. First Nick disappeared, Kevin was joined at the hip with Lindsay who then went missing right before midnight, Brian seemed upset about something but was unwilling to share and Howie was obsessing about some stupid mistake that he had made during a performance we had done the day after Christmas. The rest were superficial, snobbish and incredibly shallow. Not to mention, they were also boring.

I drifted on the waves of monotony that were the substance of the party, listening to the same conversation over and over again, answering the same questions. When will the new album be out? Hopefully by next year, we just released this one. How is your tour going? Not too badly, we resume our schedule in February. Any plans on furthering your solo career?<.i> Not at the moment, Backstreet is my current focus. How's your girlfriend, what was her name? Is she here? I'm no longer seeing Caroline, she just signed a modelling contract, doing some work in Paris, and we decided not to do the long distance thing. Sometimes I hate lying.

I was drowning. It was so boring. Even the haze of alcohol couldn't liven up things; it just made everyone more subdued. As soon as I could, I ducked out of the party and climbed into my car. Opening the window, I drove down the silent streets, grateful that I hadn't drank anything other that the glass of champagne, to celebrate the New Year, otherwise I might have been forced to stay at Brian's place.

The wind was blowing in my face, refreshing me, and my thoughts considered this New Year. A new start, many people would say. But how can there be a new start between one day and the next, when one day everything in your world is horrible, and the next day, the first in this "New Year", everything is exactly the same? The change in the date has affected nothing. My world is still horrible. And all that talk about resolutions. Why should you decide, on this day of all days, to change something? I hadn't made one, except maybe to not buy into all the stupid New Year's hype.

No one knew the real reason Caroline and I had parted ways. She really had gone to Paris to pursue her career, but the reason she couldn't do the same here, with me by her side, was simply because she didn't want me around. She said that I pressured her to quit too much. Well, excuse me Caroline, I don't want a girlfriend who is a drunk. I had watched her destroy herself for too long, and had decided to put my foot down. She packed her bags, and hadn't looked back. Goodbye Caroline.

The streets were so quiet, so empty, it was eerie. It wasn't normal for a holiday night. But most people were probably celebrating somewhere with their friends and families, not out driving like I was. I checked the clock, it was only eleven. I felt my stomach remind me that I hadn't eaten anything all day, and decided to grab some take-out on my way home.

I pulled into the deserted parking lot of the familiar restaurant, and remembered that this one didn't have a Drive-thru, which meant I'd have to get out of my car. Sighing, I figured the chances of a fan encounter were slim at this time, and got out of my car and entered the restaurant.

There was no line-up, so I quickly placed my usual order. The cashier was wearing one of those "I'm new and trying" buttons, and was apparently having a difficulty ringing in my order. She grew very flustered and apologised a few times for the delay. She was about fifteen years old and she looked like she was ready to cry.

"It's no big deal, just take your time," I said, smiling a little to encourage the poor thing. Apparently I wasn't helping.

"Taylor, can you come here for a minute?" she called into the back. In a few seconds, a young woman in a manager's uniform appeared to the rescue and corrected the mistake.

"I'm sorry about that, sir," she apologised.

"No problem," I shrugged, as she bagged my food. I smiled again; enjoying how sincere these two seemed. I had just spent a few hours with the most insincere people on earth, other than the rest of the Boys, and I found their presentation of reality refreshing.

"Working on New Year's Eve? That must suck," I commented. The cashier smiled in acknowledgement while the manager just kind of shrugged.

"Not as much as eating take-out by yourself on New Years," she said. I raised my eyebrow at her. I paid the cashier, and while I was waiting for my change, someone breezed in, carrying a crying baby.

"What are you doing here, Marta?" the manager, Taylor, demanded of the elderly woman.

"I must go, I cannot watch baby tonight," she replied in broken English. She handed the child over to Taylor, and rushed out.

"Marta, wait! I can't keep her here!" Taylor called desperately, as she cradled the child in her arms, and the baby immediately stopped crying. The cashier, who's name was Laura, as I read from her name tag, was watching wide-eyed as Taylor chased down Marta just outside the door and was demanding an explanation.

"This looks like trouble for Taylor," she said. Taylor stormed back in, baby still in arms.

"I can't believe this. What am I going to do with you?" she asked, her tone becoming pure gentleness as she spoke to the baby.

"We'll figure something out, Taylor, don't worry," Kelly said. I was watching the scene, feeling like an intruder, unable to move despite my obvious eavesdropping.

"Sometimes I hate my job," Taylor sighed, just as the lights flickered and went out.