"Can you describe him?" interrogated the police officer. He was a short stubby man with silver hair and grey eyes. Immediately after the incident, Denise called the police.
"I-I-I didn't get a really good look a-a-at his face…" Denise's voice quavered as she spoke. "He was wearing a-a black ski hat that, uh, covered half of his f-f-face…"
"Alright. How about you, Mr. McLean?"
A.J. was silent. His just sat there with a vacant look on his face.
"Mr. McLean?" repeated the officer.
"A.J.?" She gently touched his arm. He jumped, which startled her, too. "A.J., are you alright?!" He nodded his head, but still didn't say anything.
"Mr. McLean, did you see the criminal's face?" he asked again.
A.J. looked at the ground then ran his fingers through his bleached blonde hair in frustration.
"I, uh…" he began, "I didn't see much…i-it it was dark, but, um, his eyes…they were blue."
"Blue eyes. Anything else?"
"No." He leaned back in his chair. "I'm sorry."
"Ok, well would you be able to point him out, like in a crowd or in a suspect line?"
A.J. closed his eyes and the image of the man immediately appeared.
"Yeah. I think so. I'll never forget those eyes."
"Alright. We'll try to find this guy. It's not gonna be easy, with such little information, but, I promise, we'll try our best to recover your valuables."
"I don't care about the money. That son of a bitch threatened to kill my mother and me!" His voice suddenly became angry and louder. "I just want to see that fuckin' asshole rot in jail because of what he did to us. And he probably did the same thing to a lot of other innocent people, too!"
Denise gently squeezed his shoulder. "We've told you everything we could, officer. Can we please go home now?"
The police officer looked at her, then at A.J. He nodded his head. "Yes, you can go home."
"Thank you," she said softly. "Come on, A.J."
He slowly got up, and they both walked to the car. The tire was fixed. Denise drove, cautiously, as A.J. sat beside her, silent, the whole way home.
When they safely arrived and entered their house, it was already 12 a.m.
"I'm going to bed. Goodnight," were the only words A.J. had spoken after arriving home.
"Alright. Goodnight, sweetie," Denise said softly. They looked at each other for a while, then hugged. She held him tight. Tears were starting to form in her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you," she whimpered.
A.J. just looked at her and nodded. She understood. No words needed to be said to show that he felt the same way. After releasing each other, A.J. went up to his room and Denise went to hers.
The first thing A.J. noticed when he entered his room and switched on the lights were his pictures of the guys and himself playfully grinning and making weird faces…enjoying life.
"Those were good times," he whispered to himself. Then he popped the BSB U.S. debut album into the CD player and programmed it to random. The first song that came up was "Set Adrift On Memory Bliss."
A.J. gave a sarcastic chortle, plopped himself onto his warm bed, closed his eyes, and let the music heal his soul, while he drifted into a disturbed sleep.
"Get down, get down, and move it all around,
Get down, get down, and move it all around,
Hey, baby, you're so fine
I'm gonna make you mine
Your lips, they taste so sweet
You're the one for me
You're my ecstasy
You're the one I need…"
A.J., Howie, Nick, Brian, and Kevin danced and sang on stage in front of thousands of teary, screaming fans like they did so many times before. A.J. hyped up the audience and did his little rap part. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a big, dark figure move swiftly through the ocean of crying girls. Something was definitely not right. But the music kept going and the others hadn't seem to notice, so he just ignored his unusual premonition that anything was wrong and concentrated on the song. Suddenly, the swarms of fans disappeared, and it was just the Backstreet Boys and the mysterious figure. Unexpectedly, the stranger removed the dark cloth that was hiding his face.
"Lou?"
The familiar face grinned at them and pulled out a gun. Everything was in slow motion.
"Nooooooo!" screamed A.J., as Lou aimed it at his friends and pulled the trigger. No time to react. One by one, he saw his fellow Backstreet Boys get shot to death right before his eyes.
"Four down, one to go…" hissed the murderer as he targeted A.J. and fired.
"NOOOO!"
A.J. woke up screaming and sweating. "It was only a dream," he mumble d to himself, still overcome by fear. "Oh, God." He put his head in his hands and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart. A.J. glanced at the clock on his nightstand…4:34 a.m. Too early. He sighed and decided to try to get a few more hours of sleep.
He tossed and turned and fluffed his pillow for the next hour, trying to make himself comfortable. No use. Every time he closed his eyes, the horrible image of his friends being slaughtered would appear. Not much sleep tonight.
"Shit."
A.J. got out of bed, put some clothes on, grabbed the car keys, and left the house.
"I must be crazy! I'm driving at 4:30 in the friggin' morning! And I don't even know where I'm going!" he muttered to himself, "And I'm talking to myself!"
A.J. aimlessly drove around for half an hour, thinking about the nightmare, when he finally ended up at the studio. Exercise always soothed him when he was feeling stressed or angry. But he was neither. A.J. entered the building and made his way through the cold, dark hallways. He was too deep in thought to realize that he was not alone. Suddenly, he felt someone come up behind him and tap his shoulder. His adrenaline rushed, and without thinking, A.J. slugged the person behind him.
"Ahhh!" cried a familiar voice. A.J. switched on the lights to see who he had punched.
"Howie?!!!"
There was Howie, holding his nose, and staring back at A.J. with wide, surprised eyes.
"Jesus Christ, A.J.!!!"
"Oh shit! I'm sorry, man! Are you alright?! I- uh-I-I…what are you doing here?!"
"Wallowing in pain!!! Give me a sec…ow! Thank God you didn't break it!"
"Sorry." A.J. hung his head.
Howie knew A.J. felt guilty. "It's ok. I'm fine. No permanent damage done, I think."
"That's good," A.J. said quietly.
"Yeah. What are you doing here this early in the morning?"
"I asked you first."
"Yeah, but you punched me."
"You got me there. I couldn't sleep."
"Me neither."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I guess I'm just nervous about proposing to Elena. I mean, what if she says no?"
"She won't say no."
"How do you know?"
"Because the girl's been waiting for this and she's madly in love with you!"
"Oh. Thanks, that helped. So why can't you sleep?"
"Nightmare."
"Really? About what? It must have been really bad for you to come all the way over here."
"It was, but I don't want to talk about it right now."
"Ok."
The two guys just stood there in silence for a few seconds, and then A.J. spoke.
"So are we gonna practice or what? I need to work on our routine."
"Me, too. Let's go."
A.J. and Howie walked into the large white room where they usually went over their choreography.
"What do you want to start with?" asked Howie as he turned on the system.
"I wanna break a sweat. How about 'Larger Than Life'?"
"Alrighty."
He put the music on and they broke into dance, forgetting about their troubles and worries. At least for a few hours, anyway.
The others came in two hours later.
"Well, you guys are a little early," stated Kevin.
"Yeah. About two hours early. We got here at five in the morning!" retorted A.J.
"You woke up at five in the morning, voluntarily?! What the heck is wrong with you?!!!"
"Err…I don't know."
"Ok, well, Fatima will be here in a few minutes, so let's warm up, k?"
"Yeah."
So, the guys stretched and jumped and did what they had to do, until Fatima walked in with a big smile on her face.
"Hello, boys! Ready to sweat?"
They replied with a chorus of mumbled and not very enthusiastic "yes's".
"Alright! C'mon, let's get jiggy wit it!!!"
"I wonder what she's so happy about," whispered Brian to Nick. Nick smirked.
"Yesterday was her one year wedding anniversary. Think about it!"
"Huh?…oh." Brian just got the drift and chuckled.
"Hey, B-Rok! Is there something you want to share with the rest of the class?" Fatima asked in a very teacher-like way.
Brian cleared his throat and choked back a laugh. "No, ma'am."
"Ok, then, get your butts in position! 1,2,3…uh!"
The guys were doing great, except for A.J. whose mind seemed to wonder elsewhere. He missed a turn, did an extra move, and slipped a couple of times.
"Stop, stop, stop! A.J., concentrate!"
A.J. sheepishly nodded.
"Alright. Again! 1,2,3…uh, uh, uh!"
The boys started again. This time, it was flawless…until the end. At the last beat, they were supposed to spin, jump, then slide on their knees. A.J. did the spin and the jump better than everyone else, but when he came in for the landing, his feet slipped from under him, and he fell on his back, hard. He just lied there, in too much pain to move. Fatima and the others ran to him.
"A.J.! A.J., are you ok?!"
He still couldn't speak.
"Alright, just give him a sec!"
Finally, A.J. let out a strained howl of pain. "Oh, shit!"
"Ok, A.J., don't move. Just stay there a few seconds."
He lied there, staring at the ceiling until the pain lessened, then he slowly sat up.
"That fuckin' hurt like hell," he moaned.
"Can you stand up?" asked a very concerned Kevin.
"Yeah. I'm fine. Ow!"
The guys carefully helped him up and onto a bench.
"You can just chill here for a while and watch the others, ok?"
He just nodded.
"Ok, Kevin, Howie, Nick, Brian…"
They went to their places.
A.J. watched them and silently scolded himself for being so clumsy
and
unfocused. But he couldn't help it. There were other things running
through
his mind. More important things. It wasn't going to be easy. These
past
couple of months were an emotional roller coaster for him. How was he
going
to tell the guys, his best friends and band mates, that he was thinking
about
leaving the group?
Links to other sites on the Web
To chapter 11
Back to CONTENTS
© 1997 crunkgrl62382@yahoo.com
Get your own Free Home Page