MIND GAMES
by Amanda
© 2000-2001

CHAPTER FORTY - ON THE MOVE

AJ woke with a start, his elbow dislodged from supporting his head. He stretched, noticing that the smooth highway road had turned into a bumpier local street. He nodded in satisfaction, glad that they were near their destination. He glanced at the softly-glowing luminous dial of his watch, noting the time. Not bad. Even with their detour to the airport to drop D off, they had made good time. Happy to be soon sleeping in a hotel bed, AJ stood up and walked over to Nick, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Hey, sleeping-ugly, wake up."

Nick popped his eyes open instantly. "Speak for yourself." He sat up. "We’re here?"

"Almost. Wake Kev, okay?" Nick nodded, and turned in his seat to give his bandmate a not so gentle nudge.

AJ peered over towards Brian’s direction, debating on whether or not to go see him. His anger had subsided, now that Howie had departed, and a mixture of interest and worry filled him. Brian had been asleep for an incredible amount of time and no one seemed to be the least curious. He paused, glancing at Xavier, who was asleep, his face turned towards the window. Fuck it, he thought, angry at Xavier’s ability to intimidate him, even when sleeping. He slipped past Nick, giving the bodyguard a quick once over before turning to check on Brian. He reached to open the small curtain only to have it pull away by Brian himself. AJ stepped aside to let him exit the compartment, watching Brian with a critical eye.

The young singer struggled to leave his bed and AJ instinctively reached out to steady him. AJ felt Brian grab his hand, felt the unsteadiness of his grip, and held onto him until he knew Brian could stand unsupported.

"Hey," Brian croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey yourself," replied AJ, frowning, not liking what he saw.

"Mind moving?" Brian pointed. "The bathroom."

"Oh, sorry." AJ turned sideways, letting him pass. He watched as Brian held onto the sides of the bus, making his way slowly down the aisle. He stood there a moment, lost in thought, then turned to find Xavier standing behind him, blocking the passage. AJ stood before him, keeping a bored look on his face. He stuck his hand out, motioning Xavier to move so he could pass and go back to his seat.

AJ sauntered down the aisle, flopping down in Howie’s vacant seat. He turned a second to view Xavier wrestling with some type of bag, then turned his attention to Nick and Kevin. "Bri’s up. He’s in the bathroom. Doesn’t look too good."

"Hmm. Okay. Well, I’m glad we didn’t have a show tonight. What’s the matter?" questioned Nick.

"What am I, his mother?"

"Alright, Bone, cool it," warned Kevin. "We’ll just ask when he gets out."

* * * * * *

Brian almost laughed when he saw his face in the mirror. That is, if he could laugh. His throat hurt like hell and he reached for the faucet handle, turning it on. He cupped his hands, drinking the cool water, grimacing slightly as the water coursed down his throat. He forced himself to drink a lot, aware of how long it had been since he swallowed any liquid. Finally sated, he splashed the cool water onto his face for several moments, trying to ease the puffiness around his eyes. I look like I have allergies, he thought. Yes! He realized it would be a good excuse for the way he looked. He stayed in there for several more minutes, trying his best to clean himself up. Knowing that no more could be done, he left, stiffly coming up the aisle towards the guys. He ignored Xavier, and sat down next to Nick.

"Jesus!" reacted Nick, in surprise. "What the hell happened to you?" He bent over to look at the splotched face of his friend. Brian held up his hands to ward off the curious stare.

"I’m not feeling too good," he said, his voice just above a whisper.

Kevin eyed him suspiciously. "Just how sick are you?"

Brian shrugged. "My throat. It’s killing me."

AJ jumped up, paranoid. "Oh God, just great. Is it strep?" He shoved his hands in Brian’s direction. "Don’t get near us!" The idea of everyone coming down with strep throat filled AJ with fear.

Brian flashed him a look, irritated by AJ’s paranoia. "No, it’s not strep, I promise," he answered hoarsely. "Most likely allgeries. I’ll be okay."

"Even for tomorrow?" asked his cousin, concerned.

Brian nodded. "Yeah." He looked at AJ, a slight smile crossing his face. "Don’t worry, Bone. Besides, I can sing you under the table, even at my worst."

AJ snorted, now on more familiar joking ground. "In you’re dreams, Rok."

A wave of pain cramped Brian’s stomach and he flinched from the ache. Nick was quick to notice. "Bri?" he asked, worried.

Brian smiled weakly at his friend. "I’m starving! Any chance Harry might hit an open fast-food joint?"

Xavier cut in. "Fast food?" He eyed Brian and AJ found himself annoyed that Brian needed the bodyguard’s approval. He watched, curious, as Brian and Xavier looked at each other, fascinated by the way the two seemed to communicate without speaking.

Xavier turned to give AJ a glance, making AJ feel as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He mentally cursed himself for being so obvious, vowing to himself never to let his guard down again when scrutinizing Xavier.

Xavier gave him a tight grin, turning back to Brian. "Fast food, huh? Well, I guess once in a while couldn’t hurt."

AJ was amazed at how quickly the tension in the bus dissolved. Nick laughed, yelling for Taco Bell, Kevin wanted KFC. AJ caught Brian’s eye, and Brian shrugged, happy with anything they picked.

"Okay, let’s make Harry crazy. We’ll hit them all. KFC, T-Bell, and I want you-know-what." AJ gave a smirk towards Xavier, then turned to Brian. "And you?"

Brian tried to ignore the cramping in his stomach. "I’ll have them all," he said truthfully. The other three laughed and Brian smiled, casually but strategically holding his stomach.

Hurry, he pleaded silently.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE- BREAKING DOWN

"Okay, explain to me again why you have to exercise instead of coming with us to the movies?"

Brian sighed as he laced up his shoes, keeping his face down. It was gonna be hard enough to do what he had to do; looking up at Nick’s confused face would make it impossible. Nick had been hounding him all morning with this, excited that the group had not been scheduled for any planned PR. The latest Harrison Ford movie was out and Nick, along with the others, were dying to go see it.

"I mean, jeez, Frick, it’s not like you don’t get any. We’re gonna sweat our asses off tonight."

"Nick, it’s something I need to do, okay? Just because my heart is fixed, doesn’t mean I can ignore my health." Brian took a deep breath. "You could stand to lose a few, ya know. No one likes looking at a fat Backstreet Boy." Brian’s hands shook as he tied the last knot, his stomach twisted as tight as his shoestrings. He forced himself to look up at Nick.

Nick looked slightly taken aback, as if he hadn’t heard his friend correctly, but it quickly sunk in, and an angry look appeared on his young face. Nick pushed himself off Brian’s bed, standing.

"Yeah, well screw you. Have you taken a close look at yourself lately? No one likes an anorexic Backstreet Boy either." Nick marched to the door, but paused for one last parting shot. "Guess I’ll tell the guys whose company you like better."

Brian closed his eyes for a moment, hearing Nick’s comment along with the slamming of his hotel door. He steeled himself, knowing this had to happen, knowing if he didn’t start distancing himself with the group, Xavier would. And Xavier would most likely start with Nick. Last night Brian had tossed and turned in his bed, not sleeping well, trying to analyze the "game" when he realized with a sickening clarity that Nick was the last remaining Backstreet Boy not to have fallen prey to one of Xavier’s twisted little tricks. Brian reached over to his duffel bag, shoving some things in. He zipped the bag and stood up, slinging it around his shoulder, grim determination etched tightly into his face. He couldn’t stop the breakup of the group, but he was damned if he was going let Xavier get to Nick.

* * * * * * *

Brian jogged next to Xavier, grateful for the silence as he concentrated on his running. It was getting easier, although not much, considering the bodyguard varied the lengths and intensity at a whim. Brian watched, interested, at the other joggers who came past; some, startled from their run, had recognized him instantly. Brian knew, with out a doubt, that Xavier wouldn’t tolerate any fan stopping them for an autograph. He wondered what the bodyguard would do if it happened. Not willing to find out, he ignored the excited greetings, keeping his face expressionless at the smiles cast his way, thinking instead about what he had said to Nick, ashamed of his comments, but knowing with certainty that crueler things would have to be said in order to keep Nick away from him and the volatile Xavier.

Xavier tapped him on the shoulder, pointing toward a building across the street. Confused, but obedient, Brian followed him across the road, coming to stop in front of what looked like a bank. He glanced up with a questioning look at the sweating bodyguard.

"Yeah, what?"

Brian watched as a well-tanned face grin back at him. "Forgot so soon? You owe me some money, remember?"

Brian stared at him in disbelief. "Now?" he panted, "here?"

Xavier nodded, shoving a small, dark-green nylon bag at him. Brian had seen Xavier sling it over his back before the run, not knowing what it meant. Now he did. He reached out slowly, fingering the zipper. "Xavier, this is ridiculous. I’ll just write you a check." He watched as the bodyguard shook his head, his eyes unreadable behind the polarized sunglasses he was wearing. Brian sighed, motioning with an exaggerated gesture for Xavier to follow him into the bank. Again the bodyguard shook his head and Brian understood why. Cameras. He pulled the door open and entered the coolness of the interior, curious and mentally noting to himself to mull that one over later. It had been awhile since he had been in a bank, usually the ATM, his credit card, or management could get what he needed. Uncomfortable, he waited patiently in line, realizing he must look like a mess.

"Next!"

Brian stepped up to the counter, clearing his throat. "Uh, I need to make a withdrawal." The teller, a small dark-haired girl in her twenties nodded, her head pointed down as she filed away some previous paperwork. Finishing her task, she looked up and Brian held his breath, waiting to be recognized. She gave him an impatient look. "ID?" she asked. Brian gave a little sigh of relief and handed her his ID along with his account number. "How much?" she questioned, looking at his ID and punching his number in.

 "Ten thousand dollars."

He watched as her as she skeptically eyed his appearance, frowning ever so slightly as she waited for his account number to be verified. Brian had to smile as she coughed then tried to regain her composure as the computer screen confirmed the amount in his account.

"Uh, yes, Mr. Littrell, there should be no problem. Cashier’s check?"

"No, cash."

Startled, she looked confused. "Cash?"

Brian nodded, glancing to see if he could see Xavier waiting outside.

"Surely you would rather have traveler’s checks?" she asked helpfully.

"No, cash please."

"Are you sure?" She looked around for her supervisor.

Brian noticed Xavier pacing impatiently outside and becoming uneasy with the whole situation, decided to end it quickly. "Yes, cash!" he said, rather curtly. "What’s the matter? It may be half of your year’s salary, but it’s a drop in the bucket to me. Now, are you gonna give it to me, or do I have to cancel my whole fucking account with you guys?"

The pretty teller, stung by his insult, snapped back into a cold professional manner. "There should be no problem, sir. I just don’t have that much in my box. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back." She closed her open teller box and locked it, walking over to her boss. Brian waited impatiently, eager to be done, eager to get the hell out, embarrassed by the way he had insulted her to get quick results. He could hear whispering customers behind him, other tellers trying to look nonchalant and he groaned inwardly, hoping his teller would hurry up.

A tall, very thin woman came up to the teller window, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. She smiled warmly at Brian and he read her name tag, Meg Williamson, VP of Finance. Brian bit his lip, annoyed that the dark-haired teller had left. "Mr. Littrell, how can I be of service?"

"You can start by giving me my damn money, right now," Brian hissed.

"And you want it all in cash?"

Brian shoved the small nylon bag towards her. "Yes," he said irritated. God, what if Xavier had wanted more?

"What denomination? Thousands, hundreds, less?"

Brian sighed, gritting his teeth. Why was this so hard? He felt his composure deteriorating. "No, pennies!" he snapped. He decided on another tactic. He leaned forward, indicating with his finger for the VP to come nearer. "Do you know who I am?" he asked quietly, hating the way it sounded.

The VP hated it too. She leaned forward, her mouth set in a thin line. "Yes, I’d be an idiot not to know."

Brian gave her a sarcastic grin. "Good. Then you know I don’t have time for this. Please give me my money, right now. I don’t care what denomination, so long as I can carry it easily in this bag. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." Brian heard the sarcasm drip from her voice, knowing he deserved it, but not really caring at this point. He strummed his fingers, sure she was counting the money back to him as slow as she could possibly manage it. Finally finishing, she carefully placed it in the now full bag. She handed the bag to him, a fake smile plastered on her face. "I suggest you be careful with that. Someone might steal it."

Brian nearly ripped it from her hand. "Someone already has," he answered angrily, not noticing her puzzled look as he headed out the door.

* * * * *

Leaning against the elevator wall, trying to wipe his sweating face and neck with his sweat-soaked T-shirt Brian stared dismally at the wrapped power bar in his hand. Slowly he ripped the package open and took a disinterested bite of the bar that Xavier had ordered him to eat, noticing the mud-like consistency of it. Grimacing, he slowly swallowed, wishing he could spit it out, but this was breakfast and lunch combined and he knew better than to throw it away. He took another bite, wearily closing his eyes, way beyond tired. The ding of the elevator forced his eyes open, and he jumped, startled by the loud laughter coming from Nick, AJ, Kevin and Howie as they all rushed in, struggling to be first.

‘Whoa!" yelled AJ, surprised to see Brian slouched in the corner. The others fell silent as they too entered, Nick pointedly avoiding direct eye contact.

"Hey," acknowledged Brian, giving Howie a smile when he saw him. "How are you?"

Howie shrugged. "Alright, considering I lost everything. Glad I got good insurance. They’re covering everything."

Brian nodded. "Great." He wished he could say more, apologize, but he held back, biting his tongue. "How was the movie?"

Nick spoke up, bitterness in his voice. "Don’t wanna say. Might spoil it for you and Xavier."

Kevin elbowed Nick in the side. "Quit it," he ordered. He eyed his cousin, concern in his look. "What’s up, Bri? Nick said you had to go exercise with Xavier."

Here we go, thought Brian, not ready, not willing to battle now, but not having a choice. He sighed loudly. "Nick lied. I didn’t have to go exercise with Xavier, I wanted to."

"What?" He heard the disbelief in AJ’s and Howie’s voice.

"Jeez, just because someone here wants to look good, to stay in shape, y’all get bent."

"Hey, for your information, you don’t look that hot," replied Nick, unable to keep silent.

"Better than you’ll ever be," shot back Brian.

"Hold on!" roared Kevin, giving Brian and Nick a glare. "Hold on. If Brian feels the need to exercise, let him," he advised Nick. He turned to give his cousin a glance. "But, I really don’t see why you need to," he commented. ‘Honestly Bri, you don’t look all that great ."

Brian swiped at his brow, still sweating. "Oh, so now we’re interested in someone’s looks other than yourself?" he shot back, annoyed. "That’s a first. I’m surprised you can tear yourself away from the mirror."

Kevin froze, along with the other three at Brian’s remark, Howie giving AJ a sidelong glance.

"Whoa, totally uncalled for, Bri," AJ commented. "Kevin’s only stating what’s true."

"Really," Brian sneered. "Maybe you should check yourself out. Last time I looked, freaky tattoos and frizzy colored hair looked good only in National Geographic."

A bitter look of resentment sprang from AJ’s eyes and he reached out to grab Brian by his shirt. Howie and Kevin blocked his way, holding him back. The small elevator felt suffocating and Brian choked down a feeling of panic. He thought he could manage this, could cope with all four standing there, but now he knew he couldn’t. His friends’ concern mixed with their confused anger at him was too much for Brian to handle all at once. He heard the door ring open, gladly jumped out, heading down the hall to his room.

"Brian!"

He heard his name shouted, but he didn’t stop, ignoring Kevin. "Brian, you’d better be ready for tonight!" his cousin warned threateningly. Brian didn’t turn around, only replying to Kevin’s demand with a well-placed middle finger raised high above his head

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO – MORE BREAKDOWN

Brian slammed the door to his room with a resounding crash, irritated that he had let Kevin get to him with such a simple comment as being ready. He needed to toughen up, to immune himself to the insults that he knew would soon come with increasing intensity.

With a sigh, he shed his clothes and threw them to the ground, heading toward the shower. A full-length mirror caught his attention and curious about Nick’s and Kevin’s remarks, stopped to view himself. His hair was a mess, sweat-plastered and needing a cut. He came closer to examine his face. Definitely a shave was needed, but otherwise no tell-take marks, of which he was grateful. His neck was another matter. Brian touched his throat gingerly, tracing the red marks that were starting to fade from Xavier’s not-so-gentle grip. Making a mental note to himself to remember to hide the marks with some stage makeup tonight, Brian stepped back from the mirror to critically look at his body. Always being slim by nature, he guessed he had lost some weight and wouldn’t have been surprised if he had, considering. Never owning a scale, he didn’t know how much. He knew for certain that he felt stronger and looked more toned with Xavier’s rabid exercise regime; the various fresh and fading bruises over his body testified to that. He finally dismissed the guys’ comments on his appearance, more concerned with his mental than his physical well-being.

Brian entered the bathroom and turned on the shower, stepping in to savor the warmth and comfort of the hot water; the heat soothing his body, the warm temperature doing nothing to ease the problem that swirled constantly around in his head. He turned his back to let the water pound gently on his back, closing his eyes to think about what options, if any, he had. Xavier’s instructions had been crude but effective, either Xavier broke up the group or Brian did. Brian knew that simply asking the group he wanted to quit wouldn’t work. They wouldn’t understand why and he couldn’t tell them the truth. Verbally they had always agreed to stay together; if one were to leave it would have to be for a pretty damn good reason. He thought of some pretty effective ways of breaking up the group, but that would mean the end of Backstreet Boys altogether, something Brian would not do. He wasn’t sure how the public would handle the loss of one Backstreet Boy, but wasn’t four better than none? He could be replaced, couldn’t he? He knew Xavier wanted him to break the group up, he just never said how. Determined not to jeopardize his friend’s careers, he realized the only way he could leave was to have the guys force him out. Brian thought about the difficulty that lay ahead, understanding all too well Xavier’s short temper and patience. He didn’t want a repeat of Xavier’s anger; he knew Nick would be the next target. It needed to be done, now, starting with tonight’s concert.

Brian turned off the shower, forcing himself to leave the comfortable confines of the steamy cubicle to search for a towel. He climbed tiredly into his bed, noting the time, then closed his eyes, only to jerk them open again as a sudden rush of vertigo hit him.

He braced himself against the dizziness, waiting for the episode to pass. Rest! his mind screamed, relax! He gazed up at the wall, wondering what his record would be for most hours of no sleep.

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