AJ McLean stared silently at his snow-covered backyard. Since he had moved to New York from Los Angeles, snow was just one of the many things he had to accommodate himself to. Loneliness was something he had felt everyday since he left, but he knew he would soon get used to that too. People tried to convince him to stay in Cali but nothing they could say could have changed his mind. AJ had left Cali hurriedly, almost as if he were fleeing from its sunny skies. Now, staring at the naked trees with the background of buildings in the distance, AJ recalled his reasons for moving.
One night and one party had gone too far. AJ had been out with some friends after a studio session with the Boys. Needing to unwind, his friends took him to a local club where a certain socialite was celebrating her birthday. Needless to say, there were tons of people crowded into the club as the celebration raged into the night. As the birthday girl and her guests danced the night away, AJ kept to himself in a corner. Alcohol flowed freely from the bar and he was sure there were a few drug deals being made out on the dance floor. As a recovering addict, AJ felt his spot in the corner would be the safest place to stay.
As the party dragged into the wee hours of the morning, people began to pass out or leave. Soon enough, there were only a handful of people left in the club, AJ included. Among the few remaining guests, the birthday girl seemed tireless. She tried to rile up the dying crowd as much as she could, keeping her party alive. Soon, even she calmed down and retired to a soft couch on the other side of the club. AJ remained in his corner, smoking a cigarette every now and then, seemingly unrecognized. He studied the socialite quietly as she sat on her couch. That was when the party, what was left of it, started to turn bad.
A man came and sat down next to the girl. He seemed very nervous and edgy. He wore a hooded sweatshirt to cover his head and dark sunglasses, even though it was well past 4 a.m. and the sun wasn’t due up for another few hours. AJ watched the mystery man and the socialite talk when suddenly their talk became heated. They began to shout at each other. AJ glanced around the club, seeing who else was watching. The bartender was gone; either gone home or in the back room stocking the liquor cabinets. A few bodies lay on the floor, passed out in a drunken stupor. AJ was the only conscious one witnessing the confrontation. The arguing continued, escalating more and more.
Finally, the man stood up angrily and left through a back door that AJ could not see from his seat. The socialite stood up and followed him, stomping her Gucci heels loudly across the dance floor. AJ was now alone in the club. Deciding this was his exit cue, he stood up and headed for the front door. As he stepped out onto the Los Angeles street, he heard the shouts of the girl and the man coming from behind the club somewhere. AJ tried to ignore it but when he heard the sound of a gunshot, he ran around the building as quickly as he could. When he reached the scene, the man was fleeing down the alleyway and the socialite lay dead on the ground.
After calling the police and giving his statements, AJ decided to follow the path of the assassin even though he would be long gone by now. As he walked the blocks, he noticed a silhouette in front of him. He approached cautiously and looked down at the man who had run from sight from the back of the club. The man looked up and AJ’s heart stopped. He recognized the face, the watery blue eyes and the defined jaw line that could be spotted a mile away.
“I…I…didn’t mean to…” Brian Littrell stammered up to him, tears running down his face. AJ was shocked into silence. This couldn’t be real.
“Why…” AJ choked out. He saw Brian shaking in the dim light as he tried to answer. AJ looked up the alley and saw the sunglasses and a gun lying next to a dumpster. It was real. Too real.
“She…told me that she would ruin…my…life,” Brian sobbed. “I…slept with her and she threatened to tell my wife. But I didn’t mean to! I couldn’t let her ruin my marriage. So I…I…” He trailed off, looking up at AJ, his eyes shimmering with regret and fear.
“It’ll be OK,” AJ said, trying to comfort him. “If you turn yourself in and get a really good lawyer, you will come out with the best ending you can.” Brian’s face grew angry.
“How can you say that?! I thought you were my friend!”
“I am! But you have got to own up to this!” AJ pleaded. “If you don’t talk, I will.” Brian glared at him hatefully and ran off into the night. That was the last AJ had heard or seen of him. He went to the police the next day and told them everything that had happened. A warrant was put out for Brian’s arrest and the group disbanded, unable to cope with the situation.
Now, standing on his back porch thousands of miles away from that dark alley, AJ reached into his pocket and pulled out the blood-spattered letter he had received that day. A letter from a friend, from a fugitive, from a fallen angel.
AJ,
I know you had to go to the police. I understand why you did, but I cannot face this. Not in this world, not in this body. It seems out of character for me to say this but I’ve decided to leave this world by my own hands. What I did was inconceivable. Her life can never be given back and mine will never be what it once was. I can’t go on living knowing what I have done. Don’t be sad…don’t be angry…don’t be anything. Just forget about me and go on with your life. You did the right thing, for all of us. In making this decision, I have left heaven for hell. I will watch you from heaven or from hell, if that is where I must go. My blood is starting to flow from wrists more slowly now and I’m feeling weak. Tell the others I said goodbye.
Brian
