Date: Mon, 10 Sep 2001 19:50:11 -0500
From: thumper1561@hotmail.com
Subject: ...Being Lonely Chapter One (Gay) (AJ/Kevin)

Hi Everyone! This is my second attempt at a story. If you enjoy it, my
other story is called 'Whispering Your Name'. It is a *NSYNC tale. I hope
you enjoy both.

Please send me an email and let me know what you
think. Email at thumper1561@hotmail.com.

Legal Stuff
This story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true
sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any personal knowledge about
their private lives.

I do not know the true sexuality of any of the Backstreet Boys or any other
celebrities mentioned in this story. If you are offended by homosexual
material, then, this story isn't for you. And what in the world are you
doing here in the first place!!!!!!!


Chapter One
...Being Lonely

	He awoke in a sweat. That was not unusual. He was in a strange
room. Not unusual either. Then the pain hit. It was like a bouncer had
rammed his fists into his guts. He doubled over in bed, assuming the fetal
position. 'Oh, God.', he thought. 'I need a drink.'  He tried to move his
head to look for the phone to order room service but the pounding in his
temples made every move an exercise in agony. Finally, he managed to lift
his head.  There was no phone. He tried to puzzle it out. It looked like
every other hotel room he had spent the last six years in. 'Maybe I moved
it.' He tried to stand up but only succeeded in crashing to the floor. The
pain was all over his body now and Alex couldn't fight it. He wanted to cry
or scream but no sound came out of his mouth. The door opened and two
nurses in white rushed in.
        "Mr. MacLean....Mr. MacLean..."
        He looked at them helplessly.
        "Better call the doctor, Sandy."
        The female nurse left the room.
        "A.J.," the male nurse cautiously put a hand on his pulse. "A.J.,
Can you hear me?"
        He closed his eyes and drifted into the past.
        It was a beautiful Florida day. He and Kevin were driving around
Orlando in his brand new car with top down. The radio was tuned to the
local pop station. They had heard from Lou that their first U.S. single was
going to get airplay that day. Alex had been too excited to sit around the
house and wait. So they drove and drove until 12:23 pm when the DJ
announced a new song by a local group here in Orlando...the Backstreet
Boys. 'Quit Playin' Games(With My Heart)' filled the air. He could've
cried. This was the moment he had been working for, even longer than the
last few years with Backstreet. He was determined to be somebody. He knew
he wasn't destined for the same life his family had been dealt. He had
drive, ambition, and talent, but making it in show business meant making it
in America. The European success had been great but it had never felt
real. Now, Alex knew it was for real. Kevin leaned over and kissed
him. They had never kissed in public before, even if it was in the empty
parking lot of a closed supermarket. Alex had never been so happy.
        Later, when the doctor asked what he was thinking about as he
collapsed, A.J. thought about the moment and said simply, "Nothing."
        Another flash, in spite of the publicity, the Backstreet Boys were
never like brothers.  A.J. was frequently amused by the lengths to which
the publicists went to reinforce that image.  Kevin and Brian were cousins
of course, but hadn't been particularly close.  Nick was young, just a kid,
and although he and Brian cut up together, the age difference kept him
separate from the others. Howie, contrary to his shy, good guy public image
was the coldest one of all.  He could cut you with a look. Kevin, always
the adult, sometimes wearied of the role he had to play. Brian was from a
fundametalist background. He couldn't help that of course but it was
reinforced by his girlfriend/wife Leighanne. Alex had never fit in.  Still
there were happy moments together. Performing in Spain on the party island
of Ibiza at a foam party for five thousand screaming hopheads was one. The
club manager neglected to mention that one stream of foam came from behind
the stage and Alex had lost his footing and found himself swept into the
crowd. Kevin had actually plunged off the stage with a bodyguard to find
Alex and help pull him back to safety on the stage. He was coughing and
having trouble catching his breath. His head was nestled against Kevin's
smooth perfectly muscled chest. Kevin's strong arms were around him. Alex
held on to him as long as he could. Then Kevin picked him up and carried
him like a child to the dressing room. Their tour manager and Brian were in
a rage. The club manager was high on something and couldn't stop giggling
which infuriated them even more. Responding to Kevin's orders, Howie had
taken Nick back to the hotel. Alex lay in Kevin's lap, with Kevin stroking
his hair and talking to him soothingly. A doctor was finally summoned and
he said A.J. would be fine. Kevin stayed with him and put him to bed. He
stayed all night to make sure Alex was okay.
        "Was that the beginning?", the doctor asked.
        "I don't want to talk about Kevin." A.J. replied.
        Another flash, more recent, of Kevin's wedding. He looked so
handsome. A.J. hadn't wanted to come and it took at least four drinks and
two 'uppers' before he could leave his room and go. He doubted that Kevin
wanted him there but they both knew the roles they were assigned to play by
the all-encompessing publicity machine. Kevin kissed his bride and they
headed down the aisle.
        "What did you feel?", the doctor wanted to know.
        "Nothing." A.J. answered.
        The doctor sighed. "You know, Alex, if you are going to get better,
you are going to have to deal with issues that brought you here in the
first place."
        "I'm here because of the booze and pills."
        "No, you're here because you've been self-medicating your pain with
booze and pills."
        A.J. shrugged.
        "Give me something Alex. You have to start somewhere."
        A.J. thought about his fucked up life. He could give the doctor any
one of a half-dozen traumas to start with. 'How about the no father, absent
mother? How about being gay in one of the world's most successful pop bands
and having to lie everyday about who you are? How about my grandmother, the
only person in the world I could actually depend on, dying on me?  How
about having to spend possibly years, 24/7 being around the man you loved
and lost? How about walking into a room and knowing that everyone there
wants something out of you? How about that he felt that 'Alex' had died a
while back and now only A.J. was left?  That ought to keep the shrink busy
for a year or two.'
        Aloud, he said, "I'm not sure what you want to hear?"
        The doctor checked his watch. "That's all the time for today's
session. We'll see you in group this afternoon."
        A.J. left. 'Group.', he thought. One of the conditions of his
coming here had been to agree that he wouldn't disclose anything about the
other 'Boys' to 'civilians'. As a result, he sat mute in group which left
the others with the impression he was a snob. Alone again. Once he might
have been able to laugh at it, but not now. The male nurse, Danny, had
shown him the tape of the TRL performance the other guys put on when he
checked into rehab. He thought it might 'cheer him up'. A.J. played the
tape and marveled at the disingenous 'support' from his 'brothers'. Only
Nick failed the compassion test, being off in his own world as usual but
the others hit all the right notes. Playing their parts perfectly as
always, just as he had played his. He remembered only too well the
controversy when he had first wanted to go into rehab.  "What about the
tour?" (Nick) "What about the publicity?" (Brian) "What about the rest of
us?  (Howie). Only Kevin had quietly supported him, carrying the battle to
management until he won.  It had taken him a month to do it while AJ's
condition worsened. The others finally, and, reluctantly agreed to him
going. They wanted to continue the tour without him but management had
nixed the idea on the grounds it wouldn't look right. So it had all been
staged just the way they wanted it. When A.J. reached his room he found a
huge bouquet of flowers. "Best wishes for a quick recovery" Justin, Chris,
Joey, Lance, and J.C. He laughed, *NSYNC had sent flowers but nothing from
Jive or the other 'Boys'. "Maybe I joined the wrong group.', he had thought
wryly.
        Now, A.J. laid down on his bed, sheets changed and freshly
laundered. He loved fresh sheets every day, an unimaginable luxury in his
childhood. He nodded off.  The dream started nicely enough with Kevin and
him alone on a beautiful white sand beach in Puerto Rico. They had finished
three sold out shows and now they had three days off. He and Kevin planned
to spend them alone together. He could almost smell the tropical air,
similiar to, yet oh, so different from Florida. He could feel Kevin's lips
on his mouth. The hungry, almost animalistic way they kissed was more
exciting than anything he had ever experienced.  Kevin's lips moved down
his neck to his throat. The heat was unbearable. Alex wanted to rip off his
clothes and go down on Kevin but he knew Kevin liked being in charge. Then
Brian burst into the room and began screaming at them. He called them
sinners and fags and threatened to tell Kevin's parents. Alex begged Kevin
to stay but instead he left with Brian. A.J.  suddenly awoke.  Sweat poured
off of him. He checked the clock. He had time for a shower before group. In
the shower, he thought of Kevin again, water streaming over his perfect
body and Alex there to lick it off. Now Kevin was gone and so was
Alex. A.J. turned off the shower, toweled off and went to group.
        "I'm A.J. and I'm an alcoholic." The others applauded. God knew
why, they were just words. He didn't really believe they applied to him. He
had a problem, sure, but he wasn't a burn out. He had never missed a show
or session or a shoot, not even in the worst of times.  He pretended to pay
attention to each speaker, a trick he had learned from pretending to listen
to management over the last several years. Nod and agree and do what you
want anyway.  He had learned the routine. He wasn't quite sure why he had
fought so hard to come here.  Maybe it was a last chance for Alex to try to
survive. If so, A.J. wasn't sure he wanted him back.
        The nights were the worst, drunk or sober. At night he could
remember feeling Kevin's arms around him. Alex felt safe with Kevin. He had
never been with anyone before. Well, that wasn't technically true, but it
felt like the first time with Kevin. He could remember the feeling of Kevin
on top of him, entering him and riding him until they both exploded. And
after, when Kevin would cuddle and hold Alex and whisper to him in the
night. They would whisper about plans to leave 'Backstreet' and settle
down, maybe in Europe where they could be together. Alex believed
everything Kevin said and he meant everything he said. Reality struck
quickly though. It was Howie, double-crossing, hypocritical Howie who had
blown it all skyhigh. After Ibiza, he and Kevin had been together for
almost a year.  They had been very discreet and careful. No one knew. Then
Howie burst in on them when they were kissing.  Alex knew Howie had a thing
for Kevin. He also knew Howie was blowing most of the security guards on a
nightly basis. Howie ran straight to Brian. Brian never said anything to
Alex.  Instead, Alex watched as Brian went after Kevin. He threatened to
tell Kevin's family, to tell management, that Kevin would burn in hell. He
pulled out all the stops.  Alex tried to fight back and Kevin kept coming
to his bed. It became less and less frequently as Brian kept the pressure
on. Finally, Kevin told Alex that it was over. He was seeing a girl now,
Kristen, someone Brian had introduced him to. Alex was devastated.  Howie
and Brian were triumphant and Nick was clueless, as usual.
        Out of the misguided, if self-interested advice of Brian, Kevin
kept his distance from Alex. "He'll heal quicker that way.", intoned
Brian. A.J. first began to act out. It started simply enough, clubbing
until 4 am, drinking too much, an occasional snort or pill to ease the
pain. The others noticed but kept quiet. The 'Boys' were just beginning to
break on the American scene and a united front was imperative. A.J. was
positioned as the 'wild one' during the publicity blitz that introduced
'Backstreet' to America.  A.J. took it as license to act out even
more. Tattoos, facial hair, hats, clothes, shoes, he wanted to wipe out
Alex and his lost relationship. Sometimes, inadvertantly, he and Kevin
would end up alone somewhere. A.J. flaunted his new character in front of
Kevin. He could see a flicker of pain in Kevin's eyes when he talked about
his conquests or getting wasted. If that was the only reaction he could get
from Kevin, he would take it.
        Money and fame had proved a great salve. The money poured in like a
waterfall, and every night on-stage, the love flowed from the crowds and
electrified them.  By now, they rarely spoke to each other unless
necessary. Each 'Boy' had his own entourage who kept his ego fed and
stroked. A.J. had his hanger-ons too. He usually dropped them after six
months because he got tired of them. Time seemed to fly and A.J. found
ignoring Kevin to be easier.  Then came the announcement. Kevin was
actually marrying that bitch! Okay, perhaps that was unfair. He knew
Kristen wasn't that much of a bitch. Still, she was something of a
bitch. She loved the reflected spotlight and wasn't capable of getting
attention on her own. A.J. had never trusted her and not just because of
Alex's feelings. Luckily it was a short engagement and a quick
wedding. A.J. played his part and pulled it off reasonably well.  It went
unnoticed, except by Kevin, that he skipped the reception.
        A.J. couldn't hide Alex's pain alone anymore. That's when the booze
and pills went from character affectations of a good time to a serious
dependency. The relative failure of their third album crushed A.J. 'Who was
he, if not a star?' The escapades got wilder until one morning after
pulling an all night train for the members of LFO, some part of Alex
rebelled.
        So he had ended up here, in this luxurious prison, to dry out and
then what? When A.J.  woke up, he felt slightly calmer. The pain wasn't
nearly as bad and he was able to eat some toast and drink some juice. The
staff was really quite considerate here and it was nice to be looked after
like he was a kid. His first few days were almost unbearable. During
withdrawal, Alex had cried out repeatedly for his grandmother and for Kevin
but neither came. During those early days, he had told the doctor more
about Kevin and his life than A.J.  was comfortable with.  The doctor kept
prying but now A.J. was more in control and better able to protect Alex.
        A.J. swaggered down the hall to his daily appointment in his best
approximation of the cock of the walk style he favored in his glory
days. He checked out a couple of nice asses and plopped down on the sofa.
        "What's up Doc?"
        The doctor checked out his patient carefully. The timing was
interesting.
        "You have a visitor."
        "I don't want to see Denise right now.", A.J. said hastily.
        "Not your mother. Kevin is here. Kevin Richardson."
        A.J. froze. "Kevin?"
        "Yes, we usually don't allow visitors in the first week, but it is
only a day early and he has traveled some distance, so I thought it would
be all right."
        "Is he...Is he alone?"
        "As far as I know, yes." The doctor watched his patient closely. He
felt he was seeing the internal battle A.J. was fighting with Alex over
seeing Kevin.
        "I'm not ready to see him."
        "All right. You don't have to see him. But who am I talking to?
        Alex looked blank.
        "Is this Alex or A.J.?", the doctor said quietly.
        There was a long moment of silence. "Alex."
        "Good."
        "Am I crazy?", Alex whispered.
        "No, but you are confused and until we are further along, perhaps
it would be better not to see Mr. Richardson."
         The doctor left the room briefly. Kevin Richardson waited
impatiently at the reception area.
        "Mr. Richardson?"
        "Yes."
        He was a striking looking individual. Tall, dressed in expensive
black clothing, he could have been a model. Yet what most drew the doctor's
attention was the strained, almost gaunt look he had. His cheekbones were
too prominent, his cheeks too sunken.  This was a man on the verge of his
own breakdown. He looked haunted. His right hand was clutching an expensive
arrangement of flowers and he was oblivious to his fist crushing the stems.
        "I must see Alex."
        "I'm afraid that is not possible."
        "I have to see him."
        "Mr. Richardson..."
        "Kevin..."
        "Kevin, then. Your friend is at a very delicate stage right
now. You will be able to see him soon but you must have some patience."
        "I could help him."
        "Or you could hurt him. Look Mr...Kevin, I'm not passing judgement
here. I'm only doing what is best for my patient. I think he needs to see
you, but not yet.  He needs time.  Do you understand?"
        Kevin looked bleak. "Yes. I'm not leaving though. I've checked into
a hotel. Call me as soon as I can see him."
        "I will. It might be weeks though."
        "I don't care. I'm not leaving."
        "I'll tell him you stopped by."
        Kevin spun on his heel to leave, then turned again and handed the
doctor the flowers.  "These are for him."
        "I'll make sure he gets them."
        The doctor returned to his patient who had spent the time coloring
in a book the doctor provided. He looked up expectantly.
        "I sent him away. These are for you. He brought them."
        Alex smelled them. "They're Orange Blossoms." Ibiza came back in a
rush.
        The doctor watched closely. "What do these flowers mean to you."
        It was as if a shade came down and shut off the light.
        "Nothing.", said A.J. "They're just flowers."

TBC...

Please e-mail any feedback, good or bad to thumper1561@hotmail.com