Date: Mon, 27 Dec 1999 08:16:31 GMT
From: Chris Taylor <joshtay31@hotmail.com>
Subject: Separate Lives V

"What's past is prologue..."

I think the first thing I ought to do is apologize for how long it took
me to get this out.  A lot of people asked when it would be out and I
kept promising them that it'd be just a few days.  And I consistently
proved myself to be a liar.  My life has been uncontrollably and
horribly hectic in the last few months.  But here it is.  Finally.

Thank you to those of you who've stuck with me.  To those of you who've
sent me e-mails and have not gotten replies lately, I'm sorry.  Once
again, I have to blame it on a being busy.  I'm trying to get back as
quickly as I can, though.

Standard disclaimer applies: if you're not eighteen or are offended by
this kind of stuff...well, I can't help that, but you really ought not to
be here!  In other words, go away!

Wow.  I've kept it short...but the gallery still approacheth.

Oh, and the formatting of this one is a little different.  Since we all
know what's going to happen in the future (or maybe we *think* we do),
I figured I'd just stick to the point of the main story, which is all
in the past, so there isn't any of that "In the present/past" crap.
This one jumps a little bit and it meanders, though, so watch out.

Anyway, on with the show...

*******************


Separate Lives
Part V
By Chris


"Josh," Alex groaned, out of breath, "come on.  I'm almost there."

I looked up from what I'd been doing and grinned.  "Yeah?  So?"

"Well, are you going help me finish or are you going to leave me
hanging?"

"Oh, all right," I sighed and got up, dropping my pen on the desk.  It
clattered against the sheet music I'd been working on, as I walked out
into the living room.  I shook my head, bemused, and went to help Alex
move the heavy blue spruce he'd gotten for Christmas.

"Why did you get a tree this massive?" I grunted, thankful for the soft
needles as I grabbed the upper branches and began to pull the tree
toward the living room.

"Christmas has always been a big deal in my family," he panted.  "We
always get the biggest most beautiful spruces we can.  Since you're
part of the clan now, we're observing family traditions.  Watch the
top.  Don't bend it."

"Fine," I said, as we finally got the tree next to the stand.  "But
*you* get to take it down yourself."  The tree stand, red metal with
green legs, rested on a white tree blanket.  I bent down and checked to
be sure the bolts were clear from the ring before lifting the tree and
settling it in.  While Alex held the tree, I tightened the bolts.

"Is it straight?" I asked, crouched into a tight ball underneath the
lower branches.

Alex stepped back.  "Yeah, we got it.  Looks good."

I crawled out and stood up.  The tree was indeed standing straight and
tall.  "We need to water it now, right?"

"Mm-hmm.  I'll do it.  I was always the first to water the tree in my
family."

"Okay.  I'll let you.  If that's all, I need to get back to work."

Alex shrugged and ran his fingers absently through his hair, which had
returned to its natural brown.  "What are you working on now?"

"Oh, I'm fixing up something Brian and I were working on," I answered.
"It's a great start, but it needs work.  Then I have another half dozen
pieces I need to work on.  They want them by the day after tomorrow."

"How long is it going to take?"

"Oh, I don't know.  I'm just doing some prelim stuff on the sheet
music.  I'll be going down to the studio here in a little bit.  I just
want to test this stuff out.  Want to help?"

He raised an eyebrow.  "Are you going to help decorate?"

I feigned injury.  "How dare you insult me like that," I said
melodramatically.  "I love decorating, and I wanted to do it with you.
I mean, it's our first Christmas together."

He smiled.  "Okay.  Call me when you need me.  I'll be in the shop."
His shop was in the garage, where he worked on computers.  He'd gotten
a job working with a firm down here, and it allowed him to work out of
the house, which was something he liked to do anyway.

I smiled at his back and returned to my study.  I picked up my glasses
with a grimace.  Yeah, those were new.  My eyesight had deteriorated
slightly over the last year, so now I had to wear them.  I was supposed
to wear them all the time, but it was easy to forget.  They were light
wire frames and everyone said they looked good, but I still didn't like
them.

Of course, the thought of losing my eyesight was something I didn't
like either, so I put them on and returned to the task at hand.  "Okay,
take this down a minor third," I mused, making a change in the bridge.
I heard the change in my mind and had to smile.  It sounded
better...lost, a little forlorn.  "The chorus...hmm...this isn't right.  Up
a
half, maybe?"  I was pretty sure that'd work, but I'd have to test it
out.

I was finished with that piece, mind full of the warm strands of music.
It was like being in the middle of a sunny beach, surrounded by an
invisible orchestra, playing whatever music you happened to be thinking
about in the moment.  Piano and violin, guitar and sax, all coming
together in perfect concert.  It made my heart feel doubly glad I'd
decided to stick with the band.

The next two needed only minor revisions.  They were songs I'd written
with all five of them on the road, and really, I supposed they could
have stayed the way they were, but being a perfectionist, I wanted them
perfect.  The other four weren't quite so simple.  They were rough cuts
of pieces that each one of the other four had started.  So, in all,
there were two by the entire group and one by each of the five.  The
last four took me around two hours just to smooth out what would be the
opening lyrics.

I got down to the very last song and then threw down my pen in
frustration.  The bridge was way off, but I could not, for the life of
me, get it to work.  I wasn't too worried about it, so I gathered up
all the sheets and headed downstairs to the studio.  There was a very
good reason my study and studio were in two different places.  If I had
my study downstairs, the temptation would be to simply throw out the
sheet music and go right to the piano.

I couldn't do that.  Management wanted sheet music and I had to get
used to doing it that way.  There was something way too confined about
doing it like that, but I really didn't have much choice.  Besides, any
way I did it, I was still getting to write music.

As soon as the music was set on the bench, I walked back through the
basement and opened the door to the shop.  Alex was perched on a stool
with some very small, delicate-looking computer chips in his hands.  I
waited until he was finished before speaking.  I didn't want to ruin
his concentration.

"Hey, you want to come give me a hand?"

He looked up, startled.  "Hmm?  Oh, yeah, sure.  I'll be right in
there.  I was just putting this chip on the board."

"I saw that.  You've been at this for three hours now."

"So I have," he said, somewhat surprised.  "That must mean you were
working on your music for that long."

"Yeah, well, I've got almost all of it ready, I think."

"Cool."  He hopped down and stretched his back.  "Mm, remind me not to
do that in the future.  My back is killing me."  He kissed my cheek and
wrapped his arm around my shoulder.  "So it went okay?"

"I think so.  I'm pretty sure that most of these are done."  I took a
seat on the bench, and Alex sat in his usual place, behind me.  I
started with Brian's song, aptly titled 'Brian's Song' and wound my way
through it.  We both agreed that it was finished.  One down.  The next
five, all untitled, were done we found.  Then we came to the last one.
The one I hadn't finished on the page.

I got to the rough spot and missed it the first time.  "That's the one
place I'm not getting," I sighed, staring at the page, as if the answer
would write itself for me.

Although he couldn't sing to save his life, Alex had an excellent ear
for music.  "Try raising that spot just before the chorus.  Maybe if it
goes up, it'll close that gap better."

I tried it, but knew the moment I started that it wouldn't work.  "No.
Hmm...well, let me try changing these notes around a little bit.  That
might tie it better."  Struck out again.  I tried five more times,
different combinations of raising and lowering the key, changing notes,
and even altering the rhythm, but it didn't help.

Alex left the room about an hour later, heading upstairs to start
making something for dinner.  I was puzzled and a little frustrated,
when, another forty-five minutes later, I went upstairs to eat and had
come no closer to fixing the problem.

"I just don't know what it is," I said, taking a forkful of Alex's
wonderful beef stroganoff.  "I've tried everything I can think of with
the bridge and chorus.  I just don't understand why it's not working.
I've never had this much trouble with a piece of music before."

Alex grimaced sympathetically.  "I'm sorry, my love.  You know, you've
been working awfully hard today.  There must be a dozen different
pieces of music running around in your head.  It's no wonder you're
having a tough time with this.  Why not just give it a rest today and
try again tomorrow."

I nodded.  "Yeah.  I've got the other five finished and I have two
days, and I'm sure I'll figure it out.  It'll just take a little bit of
work."

"That's the attitude.  So, do you want to decorate tonight?"

"Why not?  We don't exactly have any other plans."

"That's right.  Just a night at home for the two of us."

"The eighth straight," I said with a laugh.  "And we have another seven
weeks to go.  Oh, but I do love to be at home with my man."

"Your man loves it when you're home."

"Well, I'll be around to pester you in January, since we're not leaving
until early February.  I just feel sorry for the guys.  They're getting
just this month, and then they're off for interviews, photo shoots, and
stuff like that until we have to go South America."  That was the next
leg of the tour.

Alex looked a little puzzled.  "So why do they need those new songs by
the day after tomorrow?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," I sighed.  "I haven't the slightest
idea.  I mean, it's strange because 'Life on the Back Streets' has been
out for six months and it's *still* moving almost two hundred thousand
copies a week.  From what I've heard, the next album isn't due out for
almost another year."

"Maybe they just want to see what you've got so far."

"Well, we have over two dozen finished songs.  We have plenty of
material, even if I've written it mostly myself."

We really hadn't talked about this much.  "How many did you do on the
road?"

"Oh, by myself, I wrote twelve.  The guys wrote four as a group, and
then Kevin, Howie, and AJ each turned out one.  Nick did two.  That's
twenty-one.  Brian and I collaborated on three, and he did one with
Jeremiah.  I expect they'll discount the ones I wrote on my own, since
they're pushing for the guys to show their talent."  I shrugged.  "But
that's still thirteen songs, which is a pretty decent turn out."

"Didn't any of the other band help out?"

"A little.  Andy tried, but didn't see himself as being very good at
it, so he gave up.  Meghan and Dennis helped out with two songs, and
Jer did his collaboration with Brian."

"But you were the lead writer on all of the songs."

"Yeah.  They seem to think I know what I'm doing, so they give me a
piece of a chorus hook or a bridge and we go from there."  I finished
off the last bite of stroganoff.  "It's no wonder I needed glasses.  I
spend most of my free time staring at music on a page."

"So take a break," Alex murmured.

I grinned.  "In other words, quit my bitching?"

"Watch your language, young man," Alex admonished, trying to look
serious, and failing.  "Just for that, you can do the dishes tonight."

My grin widened as I reached over to kiss him across the table.  I
could taste the stroganoff on his breath, and it tasted nice.  "I was
planning on it anyway," I mumbled, pulling back.

"You liar," he said quietly, resting his forehead against mine.
"You're just trying to get on my good side so I'll be your slave in the
bedroom tonight."

"Pervert.  You know I'm not into that kind of thing."

"Oh?" he said archly, raising his eyebrows.  "If I recall correctly..."

"Shut up, Alex.  Just shut up."  I stood up and began to clear off the
table.  It took only fifteen minutes to get the kitchen cleaned up.  I
didn't mind doing it, but I hated having wrinkled fingers when I
finished.  "Raisin fingers," I commented, showing him.

He smiled and kissed the tip of each one.  "I like it.  All you need
now is a little apron with a pink bow on it.  My cute little house
husband."

I smiled tiredly.  "We aren't married, my dear.  For one thing, we've
only been living together for eight days, and for another, we've only
been together for a few months."

"Yeah, you're right.  I'll wait until January to propose."  He laughed,
face lighting up.  He was the kind of person who laughed with his
entire body, and it came out as a deep, contagious belly-laugh when he
was especially struck.  I loved to listen to him laugh, and I loved to
listen to him talk.  Even his sometimes-aggressive pursuit didn't bug
me as much as it had in the past.

"January of 2002, maybe," I said.  We were still in the year 2000, but
not for long.

"How about May next year?"

"Okay," I shrugged.  We were just kidding around.  On my first night
back, we'd had a long talk about the way things were going with the
relationship.  We'd decided, as we had before, to just take it a step
at a time and not make any assumptions about the future, although we
both knew, deep down, that neither of us were going to go to anyone
else.

My feelings hadn't changed much, except to grow deeper and stronger.
His had, too, apparently because when I'd stepped out of the bus, the
first thing that had happened was that he'd wrapped me up in his arms
and said that he'd never let me go again.  I'd laughed and told him I
didn't want to be let go.  He didn't take his hands off me for the next
three hours, until we got back to the house.  Even through supper,
which we'd eaten before going home, he kept his fingers intertwined
with mine.

I hadn't been at all unhappy about that.  And after being together for
over a week, we were still both quite content.  There hadn't been any
bickering or arguing or anything like that.  When I'd gotten home, he'd
set up his stuff, and started unpacking mine for me, although he'd been
a little bit nervous about it.  I was actually happy that he'd done it
and made sure to tell him.

The interior of the house was beautiful after we got everything set up.
We had my lighter-colored furniture set upstairs and had set up Alex's
southwestern stuff in the bigger family room in the basement.  The
lighter-colored furniture set off the mellow hardwood flooring and went
nicely with the off-white wall color.  We'd hung some of my pictures
and things like that on the walls, and it felt like home.  The spare
bedroom upstairs became my study.

Alex had taken over the basement.  His southwestern motif worked well
with the pastels around the family room.  The carpet was heavy and off-
white down there, and his furniture worked with it.  His bedroom (yeah,
we had our own rooms, but mostly slept together in mine) was actually
the biggest in the house, but that wasn't a big deal.  He'd turned the
spare room down there into a small game room.  It was actually a large
room; his pool table fit nicely inside.

I cleared my throat and reclaimed my hands.  "Well, we ought to get
going on the decorations."  It was early December yet, but we didn't
care.  As he'd been doing a lot lately, Alex insisted that his family
decorated early.

"That's probably a good idea," he said, but made no move to get up.  I
could see that he didn't really want to anymore.

I shrugged.  "Or not.  We could always do it tomorrow."

"Yeah."  Suddenly, he stood up and threw me over his shoulder in a
fireman's carry.  "I have something else in mind for tonight."

I chuckled and went along for the ride.  There really wasn't much else
I could do.  And besides, there was something even better waiting for
me at the end of this particular ride.

The next day we went ahead and got the decorations up and then
afterwards, I tried again to fix up the song.  After two hours, I was
ready to toss the entire piece out the window.  It just didn't want to
work out, so I tabled it.  I couldn't really figure out how to change
it without destroying the entire song.  This had happened before and I
didn't really see it as a big deal.

But the day after, management did.  I walked into Jeff's office with a
dozen pieces of music, not thirteen.  "Here.  I had to toss one of them
out.  I just couldn't get it to work."

Jeff's eyes, swimming behind his horn-rimmed lenses, showed his
displeasure, as he looked through the music.  He cleared his throat.
"I thought we had two dozen pieces."

"Well," I said, "I wrote a dozen on my own, and since none of the Boys
helped pen them, I figured you wouldn't want them."

"So we have how many?"

"A dozen."

"We need more than that," he said with quiet vehemence.  "I was under
the impression we had a lot more than this.  This new album is going to
have to really be a step up, if this ride is going to last much
longer."

"So I'll bring in the stuff I wrote.  What's the rush?  I was under the
impression we weren't putting out a new album until next December."

"We aren't, but we need the music so we know what we're dealing with.
We're thinking about having you all demo these so we can see what
they're going to be like."

I shrugged.  "Once again, what's the rush?  There are twelve months
between now and then."

"Just bring them by tomorrow, okay?  We'll go through all of them in
the next couple of weeks and then we'll have you make whatever changes
you'll need to make."

I didn't like the condescension in his voice, but I didn't say anything
about it.  "I've got them with me, if you'd rather."

"Well, why didn't you say so?"

"You didn't ask."  I was feeling decidedly moody just then, edgy and
irritable.  It just settled over me like a fog, and it made me aware of
the fact that I wasn't in the mood to take any crap from this guy.  I
walked back out to my car and grabbed the other folder.  I'd brought it
just in case.

"Here are another dozen, to bring the total to an even two dozen.  Is
that enough for you?"

"For now.  Thank you."  He dismissed me with a nod.

I grunted out something that approximated a farewell and took off,
grateful to get out of there.  Still kind of grumpy, I returned to the
house.  Alex was out, but he'd left me a note letting me know where he
was going, with whom, and when he'd be back.  Good.  I went into my
studio and pounded on the keyboards for half an hour.  Some of my
frustration went away, but not all of it, so I went into the main
garage.  Alex had set up a forty-pound punching bag and I had a go at
that for a while.  That seemed to do the trick.

In fact, I'd worked up a good sweat when Alex came back in the house
with a bag of groceries.  He grinned.  "Glad I'm not the only one using
that."

"It was just one of those days," I sighed, taking the grocery bag from
him.  "I don't know why, but Jeff was being kind of a dick when I went
to see him."

"Watch your mouth, young man."

"Can't see it," I said.  "Sorry, Daddy."

He started to hug me and then promptly pushed me away.  "Gross.  You're
all sweaty.  Go take a shower."

"Only if you take it with me, lover."

Alex's brown eyes sparkled mischievously.  "Not just yet, my dear boy.
Go take your shower, and maybe later this evening, we'll talk.  Maybe
if you'd kept a cleaner mouth, I'd fill-"

"Don't you dare say what I think you're going to say!" I cut him off.
"Now who's got a dirty mouth?"

"No, you've just got your mind in the gutter.  I was just going to say
that if you hadn't cursed like that, I might have considered, um,
filling the tub for you.  But now, no."  He was lying through his
teeth.

"Right," I snorted.  "I'll just bet."

He swatted my bum.  "On with you."

I laughed as I headed to take a shower.  When I came out, Alex was
singing in his badly off-key tenor.   It wouldn't have been so bad but
for the fact that he was caterwauling at the top of his lungs.  I could
hear him back in my bedroom.  Grinning, I threw on a pair of black
slacks and a black silk shirt, and walked out into the kitchen
barefoot.

"You know," I said, "the neighbors have just called the police.  Sounds
like someone was murdering a dog in here."

Alex jumped, startled, but when he turned his head, he was grinning.
"Aw, you're just mad because I didn't come up to serenade you in the
shower."

"Glad, I think, is the right word, my dear."

He kissed my cheek.  "You smell much better."  He was such a stickler
for cleanliness.  When I'd lived alone, I was a pretty clean person
myself, but next to Alex, I was an out-and-out slob.  It wasn't just
the house.  He couldn't stand to be dirty at all, and I didn't blame
him.  I hated going without showers.

"So, what did you do today?"

"Work, work, work," he sighed.  "After I left this morning, there was
some sort of crisis at some office that I had to slog my way through.
Turned out to be nothing more than a small, harmless virus.  Somebody
panicked.  It took me maybe five minutes to clear the system for them
and restore order.  But, on the bright side, I got a chance to get out
of the office for a while."  He started chopping up an onion.  "Did you
talk to Kevin today?"

"Yeah," I answered.  "They're all coming tonight before they head
home."  All of the Boys and the band were coming over for a last little
feast before breaking up for the next three weeks.

"What time?"

"Seven or thereabouts."

Alex nodded.  I went to stand behind him and massaged his shoulders.
They were tight and tense.  It must have been a more difficult day than
he'd let on.  But after five minutes, he was almost purring under my
hands.  "You have a hundred years to stop doing that," he murmured.
"You've got the most talented hands."

"You're welcome.  Nothing's too good for my baby."

"Well, as much as I'd love to get a total body massage right here in
the kitchen, I have to get dinner ready.  You want to be my helper?"

"What do I need to do?" I asked.

"Set the table for me."

"Okay."  I reached for the stack of plates on the bar.

Everyone started showing up around seven.  They straggled in in groups
of two or three.  Kevin and AJ showed up together, both without their
girlfriends.  I'd told them to go ahead and bring them, but both had
declined, and I didn't know why.  Andy, Meghan, and Dennis all showed
up together.  Then came Nick and Howie, and lastly Brian and Jeremiah.

It was a good thing the house was so big.  There was plenty of room for
all of us upstairs.  I played host, while Alex slaved away in the
kitchen, but Andy and Meghan, who seemed to come as a set a lot lately,
went in to give him a hand.  I passed out drinks and finished setting
the table.  It wasn't really a formal affair, but it kind of felt like
it.

"So," I started at one point, "you guys looking forward to seeing your
families?"

"Definitely," Kevin and Howie said at the same time, and then burst out
laughing.  "It's been way too long," Kevin sighed.  "I'm afraid they'll
forget what I look like."

"How's that possible?" Jer asked, from his position underneath Brian.
"They've got to see your face on TV all the time."

"True enough.  But they don't get to see me in person all the time."
He glanced over at his cousin and then smiled.  "Brian, you've been
awfully quiet lately.  What's up with you?  You coming back to Kentucky
or not?"

"No," Jeremiah answered curtly for Brian.  "We're going to spend
Christmas with my family this year."

I frowned a little.  Something about the way that had come out...I shook
my head and changed subjects.  "So, Brian, you enjoying the vacation?"
I asked, cheerfully.

He didn't answer right away.  It was as if he had to process the fact
that someone was talking to him before he started to think.  His eyes
seemed just a little dull as they found mine.  "Hmm?  Oh.  Oh, sure.
Nice to get away from the road once in a while."

"Why aren't you spending Christmas with your parents?"

Again, the answer was slow in forthcoming.  "Oh, because I saw them not
too long ago, and Jer de-uh,...wanted to see his, since it's been
longer."

I broke eye contact, frowning deeply, and shot a glance at everyone
around the table.  Their eyes showed the same puzzlement I felt.
Something was definitely out of whack here, and we all knew it.  But
rather than saying anything about it, we just started talking about
other things with forced joviality.

But in the back of my mind, I wondered.  Jeremiah had always been the
domineering type when I'd known him before.  He seemed more open now,
affable, even.  He smiled a lot more than he used to, but there was
something about that smile, I observed, as I sat there.  I hadn't
noticed it before, but there was something...not quite right, I guess,
just under the surface. It bothered me just a little, but again, I
didn't say a word about it.  Part of that was because I thought I might
be a little jaded toward Jer and wasn't giving him the benefit of the
doubt.

In fact, it had all but slipped my mind half an hour later.  Brian
suddenly came to life and started telling jokes with only a little less
than his usual gusto.  He and Nick and AJ had the table in stitches
until Alex called me into the kitchen to bring out dinner.  He'd made a
chicken dish that smelled heavenly, and had all kinds of vegetables,
rice, breads, and stuff like that.

While we ate, we all talked some more.  The ten of us who'd been on the
road recounted some of our more fond memories of the trip.  Someone
asked what my favorite place had been.  I grinned and answered Denver,
of course.  But there were still memories.  When I'd been there, they'd
always been in the back of mind.  I'd sought out Jer for a few minutes
and we'd gone back to the old neighborhood.  Just once.

Someone calling my name snapped me out of my reverie.  "Josh?  Hey,
Josh?"

I shook my head slightly to clear out the old ghosts.  "Hmm?"

It had been Kevin.  He smiled.  "You know, you're starting to do that
entirely too often for my taste."

"Sorry," I said, blushing a little.  "What did you say?"

"S'okay.  No, um, Alex said that you went and saw Jeff today.  Why?"

"Well, he wanted all that music we wrote on the road.  I fixed it up
and gave it to him.  Mine too."

Kevin looked puzzled.  "Why?  We're not even supposed to start
recording for another six months."

I shrugged.  "He said it was because he wants to, uh, keep you going or
some damn thing like that.  Said something about wanting it to be a
step up if you want to keep going."

"What?"  From the tone of Kevin's voice, it was obvious he'd not known
about this.  It was also pretty clear he didn't like it.

"You didn't know?"

He shook his head, green eyes troubled, black eyebrows drawn into a
deep furrow.  "No.  What else did he say?"

"He said he was probably going to have us demo this music and change it
before it went into production, and I'd have to make any changes
necessary."  It was my turn to look puzzled.  "What's the big deal?"

He sighed and shrugged.  "Oh, I don't know.  I guess it's not.  It's
just strange.  You'd think he'd tell us about it."

I didn't answer.  Instead, I got up and started clearing the plates off
the table.  Alex got up and started to help.  When we were alone in the
kitchen, he pitched his voice low.  "What was *that* all about?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," I said, equally as quiet.

"Oh."  He picked that moment to go erotic on me.  He pinned me up
against the wall and kissed the living daylights out of me, while I
stood utterly powerless to resist.  We might have actually gone further
had AJ not cleared his throat from the doorway.

Alex jumped back, smiling guiltily.  "Um, w-was there something you
needed, AJ?"

AJ grinned broadly, dark eyes reflecting his deep amusement.  "Well, we
were just wondering where our two hosts went.  The guys just wanted me
to see if everything was all right.  Got something stuck in your
throat, huh, Josh?"

I turned as many shades of red as humanly possible.  "Uh...um...I, uh,
yeah.  That...that's it.  Sure."

AJ burst out laughing, and then Alex followed suit.  Taking me by the
hand, he pulled me back out into the dining room.  I wasn't laughing,
and I was still bright red.  He pushed me into my chair, saying,
"That'll teach you to eat so much so fast."

I shot him a dirty look as the others around the table expressed their
concern.  After a few minutes, I couldn't take it anymore.  "I wasn't
choking," I said, breaking into a sunny smile.  "Alex was trying to
give me a tonsillectomy without his hands, if you know what I mean."

Alex, who'd taken a big drink of water, spit it out all over the table.
It was his turn to give me a dirty look, but he grinned.  "Well, I
can't help it.  You're just so gosh-darn cute."

There were a few smiles, but more gagging noises around the table.  I
smiled just for Alex.  "Well, play your cards right and I'll let you
finish, Doctor Alex."

"Okay, okay," Dennis called out, throwing up his hands.  His voice was
very deep, but it boomed out of his narrow chest.  Dark brown eyes
sparkling with mischief, he said, "Yo, I don't know about the rest of
these guys, but I don't wanna see anymore of this."

"Yeah, really," Howie added, grinning from ear to ear.  "Get a room,
boys."

"If you'd go home, we could."

"Oh, so that's how you are," Brian jumped in, feigning injury.  He
winced suddenly in pain.

"Are you okay?" Nick asked him.  He'd been a little quiet for the last
little while, and his eyes were dark and troubled.  Brian was the
reason why, and I wanted to talk to him a little later about it.

"Fine," Brian grunted, still wincing.  "Just got a stitch in my back."
He shifted a little bit on Jer's lap, and I saw then why he'd been in
pain.  Jeremiah was digging his knuckles into the kidney area of
Brian's back.  I don't know if anyone but me saw it, but Jeremiah knew
he'd been caught and dropped his fingers.

"Why were you doing that?" I asked him.

"Doing what?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"Don't give me that," I said.  "I saw what you were doing to him."

"Josh," Brian sighed, "don't worry about it.  I'm fine.  Really."

The others looked slightly alarmed, but after Brian's repeated
assurances that he was fine, we all dropped it.  Not too much later,
everyone started to leave.  Jeremiah dragged Brian out first.  Dennis,
Andy, and Meghan left next.  That just left AJ, Nick, Howie, Kevin,
Alex, and me.

"What the hell was that all about?" I asked, once Andy and company were
gone.  "With Jeremiah and Brian?"

Kevin leaned back in his chair and studied the ceiling.  This had been
bothering him for a while, that much was clear from the set of his
shoulders.  "I don't know, but this is bugging me.  I mean, Brian...he's
been acting different lately."

Alex cleared his throat.  "Do you mean the way it seemed to take a
minute before he realized someone was talking to him?"

"You noticed that, too, eh?"

I nodded and decided to jump in.  "Yeah.  Where did that come from?  I
know it's been a week since I've seen any of you, but it seems to me
that it wasn't even really like that at the end of the tour."

"Only around the last few days," Nick piped up.  He looked as bothered
as Kevin.  "I didn't think anything about it then, but I wanted a
chance to do something with him when we were in Detroit, but he said he
couldn't because Jeremiah didn't want him to."

That smacked of the old Jeremiah.  "Is that how he said it?"

"Mm-hmm."

Oh man.  I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but this didn't sound
good.  Or maybe I was just grabbing at shadows.  "Hmm.  Has it happened
again since?"

Nick thought about it for a moment and then nodded.  "Yeah, it has.  I
called him two days ago because I hadn't seen him since we got back,
but he said he couldn't go out.  Didn't give a reason.  He just said
that Jeremiah didn't want him to go out."

Maybe I wasn't grabbing at them after all.  But I wasn't really ready
to concede anything yet.  I didn't know why I was defending Jeremiah.
To be honest, I think I was just trying to give the guy a fair chance.
After all, he and Brian had been together for damn near a year already
and nothing like this had happened before.  I could see similar
versions of the same thought going through everyone's mind.

"You know, maybe he just wanted some time alone with Brian," I offered.

AJ looked at me carefully, dark eyes clearly projecting the fact that
he thought I was off my rocker.  "Josh, come on.  You don't really
believe that, do you?  You've known Jeremiah longer than any of us
have.  Has he really changed that much?"

This wasn't something that I'd talked about with them.  But I did then.
I told them all about who he used to be without telling them much about
myself.  I told them about a young man who'd been a domineering
asshole, a young man who'd beaten girls who turned him down, and a
young man who beat his girlfriends up in front of us just to prove what
a macho man he was.

I shrugged and spread my hands helplessly.  "He's changed a lot,
obviously.  For one thing, he's not into girls anymore.  And he seems
more open and pleasant.  I mean, you talk to him and he's friendly, he
smiles, and he tells me time and time again that all he wants to do is
move on with his life."

Nobody said anything for a while.  AJ finally cleared his throat.  "You
know, we met him at a party, and he did seem like pretty nice guy then.
I liked him on the spot, and I still do...but there's something about
him..."  He trailed off and sighed.  "What got into you, anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"You looked like you were about to deck him there for a minute."

"Didn't you see what he was doing?"  No one had.  Of course.  I sighed.
"He was digging his knuckles into Brian's kidney.  When Brian moved, I
saw it, and that's why I flipped.  The way he was doing it...I guess it
was just reminiscent of the old days."  I felt a hand on my elbow and
turned to give Alex a reassuring smile.

"You don't like him very well, do you?" Kevin asked.

I shook my head.  "Not particularly.  I keep getting the mental image
of a wolf in sheep's clothing around him.  He just smiles too much for
me.  But I think that's probably just because I've known him at his
worst.  What do the rest of you think?"

The four of them exchanged glances.  Nick was quick to speak up after a
moment's thought.  "I didn't like him much at first, but after we got
to know him, he seemed okay.  I just didn't like him monopolizing all
of Brian's time.  Now...I don't know what to think."

"Same here," Howie said.  "I liked him okay from the start.  He was a
little quiet, but not overly rude or anything.  He's very bright, and
not egotistical about it.  I like that about him."

"I'm with Nick," Kevin jumped in.  He sounded tired.  "After we got to
know him, he seemed like a decent person.  He's been pretty good to
Brian and he hasn't hurt him.  I know we gave them both a bad time at
first, but they stuck with it and I have to give Jer credit for not
giving up.  But I'm still a little worried.  It's not like Brian to
just blow off the family like that."

"Well, what can we do?" Howie asked quietly, from Nick's right.

Kevin looked toward Howie and shrugged.  "Probably nothing.  I
mean...Brian will talk to his mom and explain everything to her.  She
likes Jer, and I don't think she's going to worry too much about them.
I think I just be jumping at shadows."

"Do you know where Jer's parents live?" Nick asked.  He didn't sound as
convinced as Kevin.

"Somewhere in town, I think."

It was Nick's turn to sigh.  "I guess if Brian's happy, then we really
shouldn't do anything to mess that up.  I just...I miss my friend."

"We all do," Howie sighed.  "But all we can do is be happy and be there
for him.  And give Jeremiah the benefit of the doubt.  It's easy to
make him out to be the bad guy and he really hasn't done anything to
deserve it."

I wasn't so sure about that, but I decided not to argue.  I'd always
wonder.  "You're right as always, Howie.  I was just thinking the same
thing.  We really ought to give him the benefit of the doubt.  Give it
time.  That's all any of us can do."

AJ nodded.  "When was the last time he saw his family, Kevin?"

"I don't know.  I guess it was before we hit the road."  He looked
toward the door.  "I think you're all right.  I mean, Brian's happier
than I've seen him in a long time, and there's no point wrecking that."
He stood up.  "AJ, I guess we ought to be going.  I'm heading out early
tomorrow."

AJ nodded and also got to his feet.  "That's probably a good idea.
I've got a few things left to pack up."  He was taking his family to
South America in a day.  Everyone was leaving town: Nick and his family
were heading out to California to see some distant relatives or
something like that.  Howie was taking his family to Spain.  Kevin was
headed up Kentucky way.  And since none of them had any family in
Orlando, Andy, Meghan, and Dennis were heading to various places in the
U.S.

Nick and Howie also stood to leave.  "Yeah, we should hit the road,
too," Howie said.  "But dinner was excellent, Alex.  This was awesome.
We really should do it again."

"Yeah," Nick agreed, with better cheer than we'd seen all evening.
"The food rocked.  You're almost as good as my mom."

Alex just smiled and nodded humbly.  "I aim to please.  When you get
back, we could do it again."

Kevin's eyes had lost most of their worry and he smiled.  "That sounds
great.  Looking forward to it."  He paused in the act of getting his
coat.  "I feel better," he said.  "I know Jeremiah isn't a bad guy.  I
just don't want Brian to get hurt."

"None of us do," Alex said.  "Even me."

We were at the door.  "Well," I said to the four of them, "take care
and have safe trips.  Let me know when you're going to be back."  We
exchanged hugs in turn, and then they departed.

Once they were gone, I sighed deeply and scrubbed my hands over my face
and through my hair.  I felt old.  Worrying tended to do that to me.
"I just hope Brian's going to be okay," I said, mostly to myself.

Alex turned away and walked into the kitchen.  The fleeting glimpse I'd
gotten of his face showed that he wasn't very happy about something.  A
pot slamming down on the counter affirmed that.

Walking into the kitchen, I asked, "Alex, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he snapped, setting another pan down with more force that
strictly necessary.

"Alex, talk to me.  What the hell did I do?"

He didn't answer, and kept his back turned to me.  His hands gripped
the edges of the sink so tightly his knuckles were white.  After a
minute, his shoulders started shaking a little, and his head sunk down
toward his chest.  "Josh," he whispered, "just...just tell me that you
love me, okay?  Tell me and mean it."

I blinked, confused and totally off-guard.  "What?  You know I love
you.  Nobody else.  I mean that with all my heart."

He turned around.  Tears streamed down his cheeks in rivers.  "Tell me
again."

"I love you, Alex.  You, Alex, not Brian, not Howie, not AJ, not Kevin
or Nick or anyone else.  I don't know how else I can tell you that, but
it's the truth."

That, apparently, was the right thing to say, because he broke into a
smile and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.  "Thank you," he whispered,
holding his arms out.

I went to him and just stood there in his fervent, tight embrace.
"Alex, what was that all about?"

He sighed.  "I guess...I was just jealous.  I'm sorry.  You just seemed
so worried about Brian-"

I put a finger over his lips to shut him up.  "We've been over this
already," I said quietly.  "Look, I don't know how many times I'm going
to have to tell you this, my love.  You don't have to worry about
competing with him or anyone because I'm not going anywhere.  I want to
stay with you, okay?  You.  As long as you want me, I'll be here."  In
the back of my mind as I said those words was not joy or happiness, but
the troubling sense that I was lying.

Alex's eyes brightened, though.  He tightened his hold on me.  "Thank
you, and I'm sorry.  I should trust you more than that."

"It's okay," I said quietly.  "Just...tell me something, okay?"

"What's that?"

"How can I prove myself to you?  How can I give you forever?"

He smiled.  "Just stay with me.  That's all I can ask."

"I'll do that, Alex."

"Okay."  He smiled and tossed a dishtowel at me.  "Come on.  If we can
get this done fast, we can finish playing doctor tonight."

The next morning, I slept in, and Alex was gone before I was even up.
After I got up and took a long shower, I went out back and spent some
time with Max and Lady.  I clipped on their leashes and took them for a
long walk around the neighborhood.  As we walked, I tried to think
about something to get Alex for Christmas.  Nothing sprang to mind, so
I let it go for the time being.

When I got back, Alex was sitting on the front porch, face ashen,
staring off into the distance.  "Hey!" I called, walking quickly up to
where he sat.  "Alex, what's wrong?"

"I-I gotta get to Detroit, Josh," he mumbled.  "My sister...she died.
Her husband, too."

"Oh, God," I said.  "Are you okay?"  Dropping the dogs' leashes, I went
to him and hugged him.  He was shaking.

"I'm n-not okay, Josh," he whispered.  Lady and Max both padded up to
him together, as if they knew he was in pain, and simultaneously licked
his face.  He burst into tears then, letting go of me to hug both of
the dogs.

After a few moments, I pushed both of them away and let Alex cry on my
shoulder for a while.  I felt so bad for him, knowing what loss felt
like, even if I didn't know the circumstances.  I cried with him, held
him, and tried to support him as best I could.  And, a little while
later, his sobs tapered off to snuffles.  We moved back into the house.

"God," he sighed.  "My mom called me about an hour ago.  Jennifer, my
sister...she...she was with Michael, her husband at the office where they
both worked.  There was a fire...and they died of smoke inhalation."

"I'm so sorry, Alex.  You...you should go up there, though."  I rested my
head on his shoulder.

He smiled sadly.  "I want you there with me, Josh."

I frowned.  His family, from what he'd told me, was not to keen on the
idea that he was gay.  They weren't exactly homophobic, but they
weren't comfortably with it, either.  "Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah," he answered.  "They're probably going to be a little strange
about it, but screw them, okay?  I want you there with me."

"All right.  I'll make the travel arrangements, okay?  I've gotten
awfully good at getting flights on short notice."  I stood up and went
to the phone and spent the next half hour getting the flight out.  It
was very difficult, and I struck out the first couple of times, but
finally, the third time I was able to get the flight.

"When do we leave?" Alex asked, when I returned.

"First thing tomorrow morning."

"Okay," he said with an absent nod.  "Uh, I, um, I guess I'll go pack,
then."

"Go for it.  I'm going to talk to Randy and see if I can get him to
look after things for us here."  Randy was the eldest son of the
neighbor, who was a pretty dependable kid.  He was at home and more
than willing to take care of things for us.  I gave him an advance and
the key to the house so that he could water the tree and take in the
mail, as well as looking after Max and Lady.

One of the stops on the tour had been, of course, Detroit.  It was a
nice place, but really cold.   A young man, no more than sixteen,
walked up to Alex and me while we gathered our baggage.  "Alex?" he
inquired softly.

Alex turned quickly and smiled.  "Hello, Tom.  How are you?"

Tom sighed.  "Okay, I guess."  His eyes were fixed on the floor.

"This is my youngest brother, Tom," Alex said to me.  "Tom, this is
my...um...friend Josh"

"You mean your...?  Oh." Tom said quietly.  His eyes, I saw when he
looked up, were remarkable.  They were blue, but they had flecks of
green and gold in them, rather like a kaleidoscope.  He was a very cute
kid; shorter than his brother by a couple of inches, but with a similar
facial structure.  His hair was brown and short, and stuck up in a way
that made me want to reach over and ruffle it up.

"Nice to meet you," I said, sticking out my hand.  Tom ignored it.  I
raised my eyebrows, but kept my mouth shut.

"You haven't talked to the family in a while, Alex.  We didn't even
know you'd met anyone," Tom remarked.  Once again, he looked away as he
reached down to take Alex's bag.  "Come on, then.  They're waiting for
us."

The ride through the streets of Detroit was mostly silent, save the
quiet questions Alex asked his brother.  Their voices were remarkably
similar except that Tom kept his voice pitched low.  He seemed
embarrassed, in a way, to be picking up his brother.  He wouldn't look
Alex in the eyes at all.

Finally, we made it back to a fairly large brown house in one of the
southern suburbs.  It was a corner lot with a sprawling yard and a row
of hedges surrounding it.  Tom pulled us right into the garage.  The
black Buick Riviera fit just perfectly in the confined space.

As we were getting the stuff, Alex turned to me and put a hand on my
arm.  "Uh, listen, I didn't tell them you were coming," he said
quickly.  "I'm sorry, but I figured it'd be easier for all of us if
they couldn't argue."

I sighed, but shrugged.  "Yeah, well, whatever."

Tom glanced in our direction, but once again avoided our eyes.  "You
should have said something, Alex.  They probably aren't going to be too
happy about it."  In all honesty, *he* sounded like the one who wasn't
very happy about it.

Alex rolled his eyes.  "Tommy, shut it, okay?  There are far more
important things going on here.  Jennifer, remember?"

"Right," Tom muttered.  "Well, I still think you should have said
something."  He turned and walked inside.

Alex glanced at me and then we headed into the house.  There were seven
people sitting in various places around what must have been the main
living room.  A few of them were crying, others were talking quietly,
and some were gathered around the table, praying with a pastor.  When
we walked in, everyone looked at us.

"See something green?" Alex asked, tensing almost immediately.

"Oh, look," someone muttered, "it's the fairy."

"Knock it off, Darren," someone else snapped sharply.  It was one of
the women at the table with the pastor.

Alex walked past me and went to the woman.  "Mom," he said, hugging her
tightly.  "Are you all right?"

His mom, dressed in a dark blue shirt and pants, was in her early
fifties.  Her hair was brown and gray, eyes a hard blue.  She was where
Alex and his brother got their looks.  Her face had the same mix of
strength and delicacy, although toned down slightly.  "Alexander," she
whispered, hugging him back fervently.  "You have been gone too long,
my boy.  Thank God you've come back all right.  We've been praying for
your return, child."

"I made it," he said, a bit reserved.  "I'm just sorry it had to happen
under these circumstances."

"You never come home anymore, Alexander," a man, who I assumed was his
father said from his mother's left.  "You never call.  Your mother gets
worried about you, you know.  We do like to know you're alive once in a
while."  He shot a glance in my direction.  I kept my expression
carefully neutral, although I could sense the hostility.  His eyes were
an arrogant blue under his thinning brown hair.

Alex turned to the man and regarded him coolly.  "Well, Dad," he said
stiffly, "that isn't my fault.  You made it pretty clear that I'm not
welcome around here anymore.  Don't blame me for your prejudices."

There was a long, tense silence.  Alex and his father stared at each
other, almost as if they were battling wills.  Finally, his father
looked away.  "You're just like your sister," he muttered.  "Too damn
stubborn for your own good."

"It's the only way to get through to you, Dad.  You can't seem to
fathom that you can't change my sexuality by throwing girls at me.
Maybe if you wouldn't try to change me, and if you'd try to understand,
we could get along better."  He sighed and passed a hand over his eyes.
"Look, I didn't come here to argue about this.  I came here because my
sister died and I wanted to be here for my family.  I guess the best
thing I can do is go stay at a hotel."

"Maybe you better," his father returned.

His mom laid a hand on Alex's shoulder.  "Wait a minute, okay?  Joe,
just shut your mouth.  In fact, why don't you take the kids and go get
something to eat and maybe go to a movie."  She glanced at the pastor,
who was watching her carefully.  "Peter, thank you for coming.  I'll be
in touch."

The pastor rose with his slender grace and nodded before walking out.
Joe, Alex's dad, looked sincerely pissed off, but he got up and
growled, "Kids, you heard your mother.  Get ready and let's go.  Dave,
Charlie, you're welcome to go, if you want."

The two older men shook their heads and made quick retreats.  Five
minutes later, the rest of the crew left.  In all, Joe left with four
others, ranging in age from somewhere around twenty-two or three down
to sixteen.  None of them looked very happy.  I tried to fade into the
background.

Once they were gone, Alex's mom relaxed, but sighed and shook her head.
"I'm sorry, kiddo.  I've tried.  I really have, but you know your
father."  She hugged her son again.  "It's good to see you."

Alex hugged her back.  "It's good to be home, Mom.  I'm sorry for all
the fuss I've caused.  I guess that's why I never came back."

"It's okay."  She looked over toward me and smiled a little
uncertainly.  "Are you Josh?"

I nodded and smiled back as I walked over to the two of them.  "Yeah,
I'm Josh Taylor."

"He's the one I've been telling you about," Alex said.  "I asked him to
come with me because I knew it was going to be difficult.  I figured
I'd end up staying in a hotel anyway, and I'd rather have company than
be alone."

She looked at me again.  "Well, if you're half of what Alex says you
are, you and I are going to get along just fine.  I'm Julia, by the
way.  None of that Mrs. Michaels stuff, okay?"

I smiled.  "All right, Julia.  Alex has told me quite a bit about you,
and frankly, I wondered if I'd get a chance to meet you.  I'm glad I
did.  I understand these must be very difficult times, and I'm sorry
about your loss."

Julia's eyes became a little watery.  "Thank you, Josh."  She turned to
Alex and tried to smile.  "He doesn't look a day over sixteen, my boy."

"He's older than I am," Alex said.  "He just turned twenty-six.  How
are you holding up, Mom?"

A few tears leaked out of her eyes.  "Not so good, kiddo.  You?"

"Me neither," Alex sighed, getting misty-eyed himself.  "Jen, she was
the only one I could ever talk to.  The rest are so much like Dad that
it hurts."

"I know," Julia sighed.  "She was such a beautiful person.  She loved
all of her little brothers and sisters to death.  You especially.  She
was just asking about you yesterday morning, you know."

"Really?  Why?"

"She was thinking about calling you down in Orlando and coming to visit
you and Josh in a couple weeks."

"Oh."

"She was really proud of you, you know, and happy, too.  She wanted to
meet you, Josh, and tell you something that I guess I'll pass along.
She wanted me to tell you to hang on to Alex because his kind doesn't
come around often, and they're worth hanging onto."

"Don't I know it," I murmured, dropping a couple of tears myself.  "He
really is one of a kind."  I was thinking of a lot of things at that
moment, and not really paying much attention to what I was saying.
Alex was one of them, of course, but I was thinking in that moment of
my own family, whom I'd lost, and strangely enough, Brian.

We sat around for the next couple of hours talking mostly about
Jennifer and her husband Mike, who'd died with her.  They'd gotten
trapped in her upstairs office and died of smoke inhalation.  They had
a little baby boy, Christian, who was sleeping in the back room.

At one point, Julia got up and got the baby and brought out something
else, as well.  It was a sealed envelope addressed to Alex.

Alex opened it and read the letter aloud: "My Dearest Alexander:  If
you are reading this, then something has happened to Michael and me and
we are no longer able to care for our son Christian.  We have spoken at
great length about his, Michael and I, and we have decided that we
would like you to take custody of Christian.

"We know that this is a big responsibility.  Alexander, you know that
Dad and I don't see eye to eye.  If I were to ask Mom, he'd protest.
He loves Christian, but he's also very firm on not having any more
children.  Besides, you helped raise Karen, Darren, and Thomas, so you
do know what you're doing.  We both trust you, and we both wanted this.

"We've also specified this in the will, that we desire you to inherit
legal guardianship of Christian.  Mom already knows, and she thinks
you're the best choice.  Please take care of him, Alexander, take care
of him and take care of yourself.

"All of our love,
"Jennifer and Michael Fredericks"

Alex's hands were shaking badly.  "Mom?  You approved this?"

Julia nodded.  "Yeah.  She and I had a long talk about this a few
months ago, and I urged her to think about it.  There shouldn't be any
trouble."

As for me, this barely registered.  My mind was reeling.  A baby?  In
the house?  We'd never spoken about it, although I knew Alex wanted a
child of his own to raise.  He loved kids.  I always thought he'd make
a good father, and now it looked like I'd get to see firsthand.  If,
that was, Alex wanted to take on the responsibility.

The answer came quickly.  "That's great, Mom.  I'd be happy to take
Christian."

Julia looked in my direction and cleared her throat.  "Don't you think
you ought to talk to Josh about that a little?"

Alex shrugged and glanced in my direction.  He looked back at his mom.
"He's okay with it."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Julia stopped him, watching the six-month-
old boy in her lap gurgle and coo.  "You didn't even ask him.  How do
you know?  Have you talked to him about it before?"

"No, but-"

"Then how do you know that he's just going to accept this?"

Alex looked at me again.  "You don't mind, do you?"

That didn't really leave me a lot of options, as I saw it.  It was
pretty clear he meant to keep the baby, with or without me.  I got up
from the table.  "I need to take a walk, Alex."

"You want me to go with you?"

"No," I said, more sharply than intended.  Alex eyes were dark and
troubled as I stepped outside.  It was cold.  Very cold.

So what was I going to do?  That was the question.  It did seem awfully
selfish of me to make a big fuss about this.  But I wanted a chance to
think before I got into something this serious.  And it was a big deal.
It wasn't something small like getting another dog.  God.  I think the
question really wasn't whether I wanted a child or not.  That was a
moot question and the answer was yes.  The problem I was having, I
think, was more with the fact that once I got into this, there would be
no way in hell I would get out.  Was I ready for it?  I didn't know.  I
didn't think so.  But by the same token, I wasn't exactly ready to give
up on Alex, either.

I walked for the better part of half an hour, thinking, analyzing, and
just generally tying myself up in knots.  I didn't know the first thing
about raising a child.  Alex did, though.  I could always learn.  Maybe
it wouldn't be so bad.

I was still pretty indecisive, though, when I got back.  The others
were still gone when I walked in.  Alex and Julia were at the table
talking quietly.  Both were in tears, and I suspected it was Jennifer
again.  They looked up when I walked back in.  I didn't smile, didn't
even open my mouth.  I just stood where I was and looked back at them.

"Well?" Alex asked after a moment.

"Well what?"

"Well are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in
here and tell me why you took off in such a hurry?"

I shrugged and walked over to the table.  Nothing to say came to mind,
so I just kind of sat staring at my hands.  "What should I say, Alex?"

"Tell me what the hell just happened."

"I don't know, Alex."

"Well, are you going to be there for me and Christian or not?  Because
if you aren't, just say so now, and you can go back to Orlando.  I'll
stay here with the baby and be around my family."

"I'm not going anywhere," I sighed.  "I just wanted a chance to think a
little.  I'm with you on this."

"Really?"  Alex sounded cautiously optimistic.

"Yeah," I said with forced enthusiasm.  "Yeah, I am."  'What other
choice do I have?' I added silently.

"So you don't mind, then?"

Of course I did.  "No, I guess not."  I was more resigned than
enthusiastic, but I tried not to show it.  "How long are we staying up
here?"

Alex sighed.  "A week.  I've got to get back because I have a major
presentation for the boss and if I don't do it, I'll get fired.  So,
we're going to have to go."

Julia nodded.  "I think we'll have everything ready for you by then.
Like Jennifer said, Joe's not too keen on the idea of taking in another
kid."

"Well, I want him," Alex said with a grin.  "And we'll bring him back
more often so that he can be spoiled by grandma."

"Or I can come down and visit you."

"That works."

The front door opened and Joe and the kids, all Alex's younger
siblings, walked through.  Roger, the oldest of the four, was twenty-
two.  The twins, Karen and Darren were nineteen, and Tom was the
youngest at sixteen.  Jennifer had been the oldest kid, and then Alex.
I shook my head, trying to imagine how difficult it would have been
raising six kids at once.  Of course, I'd always wondered what it would
have been like to have a big family, but looking at this family, I
began to be thankful that I hadn't ever had one.

Alex stood up and looked at his father.  "Well, I think Josh and I are
going to stay at a hotel, Dad, since it seems we aren't really wanted
around here."

Joe sighed.  "You can stay, Alex.  But just you."

"Not Josh?"

"He isn't family."

Julia, surprisingly, jumped up and said, "If Alex stays, so does Josh,
Joe.  Josh is more family to Alex than you are."

Alex laid a hand on my arm and smiled.  "That's right, Dad.  He accepts
me for who I am and doesn't try to change me.  So, I'm going to stay in
a hotel for both my sake and Josh's."

We left after another fifteen or twenty minutes.  I was glad to get out
of there.  We headed to a hotel, and on the way, neither of us said
much.  I was thinking mostly about Christian.  He was a beautiful
little boy, there was no denying that.  His hair was dark and fuzzy,
his face was pudgy and dimpled when he smiled.  His eyes were a
sparkling bright blue that, like Alex's eyes, lit up when he grinned.
The more I thought about him, the more I fell for that kid.

After dropping our stuff off at the hotel, Alex and I went to get
something to eat.  He spent most of that time talking about his sister,
her husband Mike, who was a nice guy, apparently, and he also talked
about Christian at great length.  I listened, mostly.  That's what he
needed.  He loved his sister almost more than he loved his mom.  This
was hard for him.

He went back to his house that evening, but I stayed behind at the
hotel, figuring that it would be best for his family that way.  I was
sound asleep when he got back, but he woke me up.  He'd brought
Christian with him.

"Isn't he sweet?" Alex asked softly.  The little tyke slept peacefully
in his carrier.

"Sure is," I replied.

"Say, you don't know much about kids, do you?"

"Not really," I answered.  "I didn't grow up around them.  I guess
you're going to have to help me along."

Alex smiled.  "Well, at least you're honest about it.  To tell you the
truth, it's not easy, but it's not incredibly difficult.  It just takes
time and effort.  There's no halfway about it."  His eyes became
serious.  "I mean that."

"Yeah," I sighed and rolled over.  "That's pretty much what I figured."
I fell right back asleep.

We spent almost the entire week with his family, which, as the days
passed, got progressively better.  They were still a long way from
accepting me, but at least, by the time we went to the funeral, they
all spoke to me.

They had the funerals for Michael and Jennifer together.  It was really
a beautiful service, inclining more toward a memorial than a funeral.
People got up and spoke about the two of them and shared memories.
There were tears, but not as many as at some of the other funerals I'd
been to.  It wasn't quite upbeat, but it sure wasn't depressing, and
that made it so beautiful.

Even the reception afterward was nice.  Julia made the formal
announcement that Alex would be taking custody of Christian.  The
reactions were mixed, but nobody had any serious objections.  I guess
most of the people there knew Alex and knew he was a decent and
responsible guy.  They were even relatively accepting of me, which was
quite nice.

It seemed like we'd just gotten to Detroit when we boarded the plane
with the baby and his belongings.  As predicted, Joe hadn't raised too
much of a fuss about us taking Christian.  He'd just mumbled something
to Julia and to Alex about us needing to take care of him and for us to
bring the little tyke back up every once in a while.  Alex agreed
pretty readily and exchanged uncomfortable hugs with his father.

I was, predictably, pretty nervous about taking the little guy into our
home.  Alex had spent a good deal of the week showing me what I needed
to do with him.  Christian was very well behaved on the plane.  He
slept, mostly, and raised almost no fuss whatsoever.  The only time he
was even awake was on landing, which wasn't particularly smooth.

Things were okay, though, once when we got to the house.  We got
Christian's stuff set up.  "We'll put his crib in the basement," Alex
said.  "And he can have my game room when he gets old enough."

"Are you sure?" I asked.  "I mean, it'd be no trouble for me to give up
my study.  To be honest, it'd be a lot easier than you giving up your
game room."

Alex shrugged.  "I don't use it that much anymore."

"So, am I going to be welcome in your room when the baby's in there?"

He grinned wickedly.  "But of course, my dear boy.  You don't honestly
think I'd kick out my love toy, do you?"

"Oh, ho, so now the truth comes out," I crowed.  "You just want me for
my body."

"Yep.  Your body, your mind, your heart...all of it."

Christian woke up just then and cried a little.  Alex sighed good-
naturedly.  "Dinner time, I think."  He got up and went to get the
little guy ready for his food, but surprised me by telling me, "You get
to do it."

"Okay," I said.

"Are you all right with this?  I mean, you're going to have to spend
most of the day with him tomorrow, and I know you haven't had that much
experience with this yet."

"I'll be fine," I said.  "If I get into any trouble, I can call you,
you know.  But I don't think I will.  As I'm sure you've seen, I'm a
pretty quick learner."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I know I am."  To prove it, I nodded down at the little boy who smiled
contentedly around the bottle.  "You know, I'm surprised how easily
they just let us walk out of there with him."

Alex nodded and raised his eyebrows.  "Tell me about it.  I thought
there'd be some kind of fuss, but even Dad said he felt better about
leaving Christian with me than putting that extra pressure on Mom.  My
aunt Katy even agreed with Jen's decision."

I inclined my head, feeling strangely introspective.  "You know, maybe
they think more of you than you know.  I mean, your mom seems really
proud of you.  Hell, even after a couple of days, your dad was more
relaxed around you.  Tom and Roger are a couple of little pricks, but
Darren and Karen were pretty nice to me after a while."

"Mind your language around the baby, Josh.  And anyway, it's your
charm, little buddy.  You're just so cute that they can't hate you."

"That's what you like to think," I snorted.

"It's true."

"Whatever."

The next day was actually pretty nice.  I hadn't finished my Christmas
shopping, so Christian and I went together.  I pretty much knew what I
wanted to get for Alex: a few things, actually, so it wasn't much
trouble to get them.  But after a little thought, I decided to throw a
few things in there for Christian.  Not that he needed much.  God,
nearly half the boxes we'd brought with us were laden with toys of all
colors, shapes, and sizes.  This kid was growing up spoiled, but that's
what grandparents and parents were for, I guess.

That took a little over an hour, so afterward, we went for a ride
around the city and just kind of took it all in.  Christian was
absolutely no trouble all day.  He seemed to latch onto me pretty well,
and didn't make any fuss.  I had never seen such a laid back little one
before, and for that, I was grateful.  A lot of the babies in the mall
were squalling and carrying on, causing their parents no end of
headaches.

When I stopped for lunch, a few women came up to me and made a big deal
over how well behaved "little Chris" was.  More than half of them asked
me where my wife was.  When I said I wasn't married, they commended me
on being a single father raising a baby.  Rather than try to explain, I
just smiled.  Maybe that's why I ended up going home with a handful of
phone numbers.

Alex was home when I got there.  He grinned when I came in carrying the
little one.  "So, how was your day?"

"I love this kid," I said, kissing Christian on the head.  "He was so
well behaved today.  No trouble at all."

"You had a good day, then, huh?"

"Of course.  You?"

Alex's grin split his face, and his eyes lit up like twin stars.  "Oh,
the presentation went so well, Josh.  I can't tell you.  I've been with
the company for nearly four months now, and I've already gotten
promoted to head of R&D.  No more lowly computer tech.  I get to help
design the stuff."

"That's great!"

"Yeah.  My salary is going to more than double."

"Jeez.  With my salary and yours, we'll not be needing to worry about
putting Christian through college."

"That's quite true.  With what you make and what I make, we're going to
be pretty damn comfortable."  He picked up Christian and swung the
giggling little boy around.  "Oh, did my widdle man have a good day?"

"We got ogled by all kinds of woman today," I commented, smiling right
along.  "I actually came home with around a few phone numbers.  Single
parent, and all.  It also helped that the little tyke was so well
mannered."

Alex pretended to look jealous.  "You gonna call any of them?"

I shrugged.  "Thought about it.  Some of them were really hot.  But
then I remembered the nag waiting for me at home."

"Oh, thanks."

"Can't help it.  Like you say, I'm just so damned adorable."

Alex laughed.  "I hate to burst your bubble, my boy, but I'd bet they
were more attracted to Christian than you.  You were just the helpless-
looking daddy."

"Up yours, bucko."

"That's where I like it."

My eyes flew open.  "Now who's got a dirty mouth?  You'd better be
careful or else I won't play tonight."

"Okay, okay.  Say, Kevin called this afternoon.  He wants you to call
him this evening.  He's still with his family, but it sounded pretty
urgent."

"All right.  I'll call him after dinner."

I did just that.  After a quiet, relaxing dinner, I went up to my study
and shut the door so that I could make a quiet call.  As the phone
rang, I imagined the journey the call was making: over hundreds of
miles of wire, to eventually end up making someone's phone ring.  What
a marvelous invention.

Kevin picked up after a few rings.  "Hello?"

"Kevin?  It's Josh."

"Oh, hey.  Glad you called.  Listen, you haven't heard from Brian, have
you?"

Boy, right to business.  "Nope.  Have you?"

"No, and Aunt Jackie says he only called her once, to tell her that he
wouldn't make it up.  He said he's sticking around Orlando with
Jeremiah."

"I'm sure he's okay, Kevin," I said.  "He's a strong person, and I
think he can take care of himself."

"Yeah, but I just don't like this.  He's usually such a family man.
This is so unlike him."

"Well, when you get him away from Jeremiah in January, why don't you
talk to him?  Just the two of you, one-on-one and make him tell you
what's been going on."

Kevin sighed.  "Yeah, you're right, I guess.  I'm just worried."

"And that's what makes you a good guy.  I'm a little worried myself."

"Glad I'm not the only one.  So, how have things been?"

"Now that you mention it, pretty interesting.  When you get back here,
I'll have to introduce you to my newest family member, Christian."

"Who's that?"

"That's kind of a long story..."  It took about half an hour to tell from
the beginning, but Kevin didn't seem to mind listening.  He told me,
when I finished, that he was looking forward to meeting our little
bundle of joy.

Christmas came and went as fast as the blink of an eye.  Both Alex and
I had spoiled the hell out of Christian without telling each other, but
we got a good laugh out of it.  But what was really nothing compared to
the surprise both of received when we gave each other one gift in
particular: rings.  I'd gotten him a ring and engraved my initials in
it for him.  He'd done the same, amazingly.

"Does this mean what I think it does?" he asked, staring at the small
gold band in its white box.

"I think it does," I said, in all seriousness.  "You know, I don't
think we'll ever get married, but this is close enough for me.  I do
love you so much.  I can't remember ever having been so happy."

"Me neither," Alex said, blinking tears out of his warm brown eyes.  "I
guess..." he slipped out the ring and put it on his left ring finger.  "I
guess this'll do.  I love you, too."

I did the same with my ring.


The guys made a big fuss over Christian when they got back.  As we had
before they left, Alex and I had them over for a big meal.  Kevin
arrived alone and early to give us a hand.  He all but melted when
Christian grinned at him.

"He's so cute," Kevin said, grinning back.  "His eyes light right up."

"That's how you know he's related to Alex," I said.  There was a knock
at the door, and I went to get it.  Outside stood Brian and Jeremiah.
Jeremiah seemed a little tired, but Brian was in great spirits.

"How was your holiday?" he asked brightly, smiling and reaching out to
give me a quick hug.

"Great.  Come on in.  I want to introduce you to someone."

Blue eyes sparkling, Brian followed while Jeremiah took Brian's coat.
"Who?"

Kevin had Christian on his lap.  "This is Christian," I said.  "He's
our son."

"Your-?  How?"

"Alex's sister died a couple weeks back and she passed legal
guardianship to her brother, with whom I live.  He's been with us for
about two weeks."

Brian didn't really seem to hear that.  He walked over and took
Christian off his cousin's lap.  "Oh, isn't he sweet?  He looks just
like Alex.  Hey, Kev.  How's it going?"

Kevin looked a little befuddled.  "Good, Brian.  How have you been?
What were you up to over Christmas?"

Brian's bright blue eyes darkened only a little.  "Oh, you know, I
spent it with Jer's mom and dad.  It was pretty pleasant, actually.
They're very nice people.  I'm really sorry I didn't call, but they
surprised Jer and I with a trip skiing out in Utah.  That was so great.
Were my mom and dad upset?"

"Damn right they were.  They were afraid something had happened to
you."

"Well, nothing did," Jeremiah's deep voice said from the darkness of
the hallway.  "He was perfectly safe and we had a great time, didn't
we?"  He put a gentle arm around Brian's shoulder as Brian nodded.
"And, the best part is that we're engaged."

For some reason, it felt like someone had punched me in the gut, but I
managed a smile.  "That's great," I said.

Brian nodded contentedly.  "It sure is."  He must have seen the light
glint on my own ring and he looked at my left hand.  "Where'd that come
from?"

"Where else?  Alex gave it to me for Christmas."  I studied the elegant
band on my finger.  It fit just perfectly, as Alex's had.

Alex popped out of the kitchen just then.  He must have overheard
Jeremiah.  "Did I hear you say you're engaged?  Congratulations."

"Thanks," Jer said.  He noticed that Alex was wearing a ring on his
finger, too.  "So, are you two engaged or already hitched?"

"Well, we're not actually going to get married," Alex said with a
shrug, "but this is close enough for us."

There was a knock at the door just then and I went to answer it.  Nick,
AJ, and Howie were all together.  "What's up?" Nick asked with a big
happy smile.

"Not much," I said.  "Come on in, guys."

AJ gave me a quick hug.  "So, I hear you got a little rugrat now."

"Uh-huh."

"Where is the little guy?" Howie asked.

"Either with Brian or with Kevin."

"Brian's here already?" Nick asked.

I nodded.  "Yeah, and he looks like he's doing a lot better than when
we saw him before Christmas."  I shrugged.  "Come on.  Let's go see
Christian."

Christian, was, of course, the center of attention that evening.  He
got a bit fussy as the evening wore on, but he'd been up early that
morning.  So, we put him to bed with a bottle shortly after we finished
eating, and he nodded off almost right away.

We all got caught up on what we'd done over the vacation.  It had been
a surprisingly relaxing vacation for all of them.  Of course, long
vacations tended to be.  Everyone seemed particularly interested in
what Brian and Jeremiah had been doing.  They had had, apparently, a
great ten-day ski trip.  Both were a lot more relaxed than they had
been before, and it put all of us at ease.

Talk turned to business and Kevin said, "I hate to tell you this, Josh,
but I talked to Jeff this afternoon, and he told me that he needs to
see you first thing Monday morning."

I sighed.  "Any idea why?"

"Something about the music, I'm sure."

"Figures.  It always comes down to that, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

I turned to Alex.  "I guess I'll have to take Christian with me."

He nodded.  "Yeah.  I'll, uh, I'll start looking for a sitter.  When
you're out on the road, he can't go with you.  But while you're in
town, I don't see any big deal."

"Sure."  I looked to the others.  "So, what's first on your agenda
tomorrow?"

Kevin shrugged.  "An interview and photo shoot with one of the teen
magazines, I think.  I'm not too sure which."  He looked at Jeremiah.
"I'm afraid you're going to have to let go of Brian for a few hours,
big guy."

Jeremiah shrugged.  "That's okay.  It's not like we're attached at the
hip or anything."

"You wouldn't think that," AJ muttered.  His hair was, for once, not
styled oddly.  It was relatively short and neatly cut.  He seemed
relatively subdued, didn't joke or laugh that much.  I wondered what
was bugging him, but never got around to asking.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jeremiah asked tensely.

Eyebrows raised, AJ smiled disarmingly.  "Nothing, Jeremiah.  Nothing
at all."

By that time, it was pretty late.  Howie stood up and stretched his
back.  "Well, once again, Alex, you're a great cook.  This was fun, but
we've got to get an early start tomorrow.  So, I think it's time for us
to go."

"Yeah," Nick sighed.  He glanced at Brian and smiled.  "So, you want to
meet at my place tomorrow morning?"

"Works for me," Brian said.  "I'm staying at my place tonight."

With that, they all stood and we exchanged farewells.  It was a while
before I saw them again.


"Josh, we've gotten a chance to go over those new songs," Michael said
quietly, a day after the guys had come over for dinner.  "And...I don't
know how to say this without offending you, but they're just not
right."

"What's wrong with them?" I asked quietly.  Christian sat quietly on my
lap and stared over at Jeff.

"They're just not...novel enough.  I mean, I guess there are maybe two
that are salvageable.  But the rest...well, we need something more fresh,
edgy.  Do you understand?"

"No," I said bluntly.

Jeff and Michael exchanged glances and Jeff shrugged.  It seemed like
every time I saw him, he had lost a little weight.  His eyes, when they
turned to me, were a flat, bored blue.  "Well, let me put it to you
this way: these songs are unacceptable as they are.  You have two
options as I see it.  You can either rewrite these songs or come up
with a batch of new ones."

I frowned deeply.  "How, pray tell, do you expect me to go about that?
It's not as easy as you seem to think to sit down and write a good
song.  Fresher?  Edgier?  Novel?  How do you translate that into
music?"

"That's what we hired you for, Mr. Taylor," Michael said coolly.
"We'll leave that up to you.  We need this music, though, as soon as
possible.  Three weeks is all we can give you."

"Guys, be serious," I protested hotly.  I set Christian down in his
carrier and stood up.  "Look, it's all well and good for you to sit
there and tell me I have to do it, but you have no idea what actually
goes into something like this.  And it's especially difficult when
you're doing it on your own."  I shook my head.  "I don't think I can
do it."

"If that's the case, then we're going to have to get someone else,"
Jeff murmured meditatively.  "And if we do that, well, you might just
find yourself out of a job.  I mean...what good would you be to us?"

"You'd fire me?" I asked incredulously.  But after a moment of silence,
I sighed and gave in.  "All right, fine.  Do you want me to retool the
songs I gave you or do you want different ones?"

"Just redo these, and we'll talk.  Three weeks, Mr. Taylor."

Why in the world were they putting so much emphasis on this?  I didn't
know, but it bothered me.  I reached down and grabbed Christian's
carrier, all twenty-four pieces of music and then left without saying
goodbye.  I was pissed.  This was beyond ridiculous.  I didn't know how
things were usually done, but it struck me as so odd that they were
happening like this.

I got back to the house and tried to go right to work.  And after
twenty minutes, I quit.  My mind wasn't into it.  I decided to play
with Christian instead and had a good time.  In the back of my mind,
though, I tried to work out why there was such an emphasis on getting
this music ready so quickly.  And I also found myself wondering whether
I could.

I couldn't.  Of all the times to run into a creative block, this was
the absolute worst.  The following day, I sat and stared at a piece of
sheet music for more than an hour and made not one change.  I hadn't
the slightest idea how to start.  Finally, frustrated, I took the damn
thing down to the piano.  I must have played the piece six times and
couldn't figure out what to do with it.

It was the same with the next three I tried.  I played them rather than
stare futilely at the sheet music.  But after a while, I was making a
lot of mistakes.  That was unusual, but not unheard of.  I mean,
sometimes my fingers slipped and hit a wrong note.   It happens to
every musician the world over.  No matter how good or skilled,
sometimes you just hit a sour note.

That afternoon, I hit a lot of them.  The next afternoon I did, too.
So, after two days of making an inordinate amount of mistakes, I
scrapped the whole revision idea.  I was getting absolutely nowhere.
Besides which, I liked to tinker with music, but I hated gutting it.
There was a big difference.  When you tinkered, you just tweaked a few
notes, but it was still the same piece.  When you gutted a piece, it
became something else entirely.  Better just to start over.

So, that's what I did.  Realistically, I knew there was no way in hell
I'd be able to come up with two-dozen brand new songs in just under
three weeks.  What I was hoping would happen was that I could write one
or two new songs and jump-start the old brain again.  It had worked in
the past.

But it sure as hell didn't work for me during the next few days.  I
couldn't manage a simple melody in three days.  The end of the third
day was actually my fifth day of work.  I worked like a madman, down in
my studio for nearly fifteen hours a day.  The only breaks I took were
to grab an occasional snack and to feed Christian, but I did that
sitting at my piano bench.

At the end of that fifth day, sometime around midnight, Alex came down
to the studio.  "Are you coming to bed?" he asked quietly.

I stared at my hands.  They rested idly on the keyboard, not moving.
They hadn't moved in nearly an hour.  "I can't," I said.

Alex moved to my side and knelt down.  "What's going on with you, Josh?
I've hardly seen you in the last few days.  You haven't slept at all,
you're working yourself to death, and you look like hell."

"I have to do this," I told him.  "These pieces aren't good enough.  I
told you already that Michael and Jeff need them in a couple weeks.
And...I've tried.  I have.  But...I can't do it."

"Josh," Alex murmured, reaching out and clasping my shoulders, "you're
trying too hard.  You need a break.  You've been immersed in this for
five days."

"And I haven't got a damn thing done," I snapped.

Alex's eyes opened wide.  "Oh, surely you've gotten a couple-"

"No," I interrupted.  "Nothing.  Not a damn thing in five days.  I
haven't changed a single note on a single piece.  I can't even get
through one of them without screwing it up somehow.  And I can't put
together a melody to save my life."

"So take a break."

"I can't!  Don't you get it?  I have to have these fucking things
finished in a little over two weeks.  There's no way in hell I'll be
able to do it.  Twenty-four songs; *good* songs, no less."

Alex's hands kept massaging my shoulders.  It was really annoying, to
be perfectly frank.  "You're way too tense, Josh.  I mean it.  Come to
bed, get some sleep, and call Andy and Meghan tomorrow.  Or Dennis.
Get one of them to come help you."

That had been something I'd thought about before.  "Only one problem
with that: none of them are in town.  All of the band, Jeremiah
included, are still enjoying their vacations."

"Oh."  Alex sighed and dropped his hands.  "Well, at least come to bed,
okay?  Maybe you'll get some divine inspiration overnight.  And if that
doesn't happen, you can just call your managers and explain it to
them."

Rather than argue, I just nodded.  "All right."  I yawned and tossed my
glasses onto the piano.  I was asleep before my head even hit the
pillow.

The next morning, I woke up grouchy and I knew that nothing would
change.  But I gave it a good fight.  I pulled out my violin and sat
attempting to play something, anything.  The normally delicate, soft
and sweet notes came out jarringly discordant.  It was like over the
course of the last week, I'd lost my musical ability.  The music I
constantly heard in my head was the same: harsh, ugly-sounding, and not
at all like the quiet, warm sounds normally there.

I played some of my old songs and they came out sounding amateurish, at
best.  'Jesus,' I thought 'I'm losing it.  I really am.'  I tried to
play the song I'd written with the guys.  My fingers refused to obey.
The notes scraped off instead of ringing out, and they scraped off
wrongly, too, I might add.

That day was Saturday, so Alex was home, and he was upstairs taking
care of Christian.  He poked his head downstairs at one point and I
could see the worry creasing his forehead.  "What are you killing down
here?"

"Myself," I growled angrily.  "Do you mind?"  Alex retreated
immediately, and I was alone.  I carefully put away my Strad and took
out one of my acoustic guitars.  But instead of playing anything
specific, I just sat back as I had so many times and let my fingers do
the walking.  I tried not to force anything and tried to relax.

I felt better after an hour.  The background music constantly in my
mind had lost a little of that discordant edge and became warmer.  When
I reached that point, I stopped playing altogether and went upstairs.
Alex accepted my apology readily and we took Christian, Max, and Lady
for a long, long walk.

Max and Lady were special dogs.  There was no doubt about that.  I
trusted them both completely around Christian.  Both seemed to know
that he was young and very weak.  They were protective of him, and
playful, too.  They put up with him grabbing handfuls of fur.  And they
were both surprisingly mellow.  Even though Max was only a couple of
years old, he was mature.  And goofy, sometimes.  He'd never quite
grown into his ears, so they stuck up comically, and he tended to be
clumsy.  Alex and I laughed about that so often.  His nickname around
the house was batdog.

Lady, on the other hand, although she had similar deportment, was
different.  She carried herself with the elegance and grace of a show
dog.  She had the typical white and light brown coloring and walked
with her head proudly arched.  She was as elegant as Max was clumsy.
She never stepped on my feet, but Max sure did.  He was the bigger of
the two, a little taller and bulkier.  But they got along well.  Lady
replaced the hole left in both Max's life and mine left by Whiskey.
Funny thing was that I never considered getting another cat.

Anyway, I felt steadier when we got back to the house.  It was near
dark.  We ate well that night and after Christian went to bed with his
bottle, I persuaded Alex to give me the massage he'd started the night
before.  He was wonderfully attentive.  The tension slipped away and I
started feeling frisky.  One thing led to another and...well, you get the
point.

The next morning, I felt wonderful.  After a leisurely breakfast, I
decided to give the music a go again.  There was no sense of urgency or
even worry in it that morning.  As I sat down at the keys, it felt like
everything was going to fall into place.

It didn't.  I started rewrites again, and failed worse than before.  By
the end of that day, I was ready to throw things.  I didn't go to bed
that night.  Or the next night.  I don't remember if I ate, either.  I
was down in my studio day and night slaving to make one damn song work.

I was frustrated and angry.  Over the course of the next eight days, I
bit Alex's head off more than a dozen times.   He tried to persuade me
to stop, but I couldn't.  It was like the music had shackled me to the
piano.  What I heard in my head wasn't soothing or warm.  It was harsh
and cold and I wanted it to stop.  I figured if I could just make a few
songs work, it'd get better.

I don't really know what happened.  Like I said, it was like an
obsession.  I absolutely could not stop trying.  I managed to force
about ten, but I knew that those wouldn't even be near good enough.
And as I worked, I wondered if I'd ever be able to write something good
enough.

Finally, I had enough.  I exploded.  There were five days left before I
had to take twenty-four fresh, novel pieces to management.  I couldn't
do it anymore.  I couldn't play anymore.  I'd sit down at the keyboard
only to start shaking.  My fingers wouldn't work.  I knew I'd lost
weight and I felt absolutely like hell.

"Shit!" I yelled when I reached the breaking point.  I got up quickly,
shoving back and knocking over the piano bench, and drove my fist into
the nearest wall.  The sheetrock gave and my hand broke through.  It
hurt like a bastard and I yelled again.  When I pulled my hand out, my
knuckles were covered with dust and blood where I'd split my skin open.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit," I hissed.

Alex, who'd stayed home for some reason or another, came racing down
the stairs.  "What in God's name just happened down here?"  His voice
was tentative and a more than a little worried.

"I quit," I said, throwing my hands up.  "This is the end.  It's the
fucking end.  I can't play my instruments anymore and I sure as hell
can't write music anymore."  Another urge to plunge my fist into the
wall overcame me, and I couldn't resist it.  I whirled around and did
it again.

Suddenly, everything seemed...too loud, too bright, and not real.  I
turned slowly and looked at the piano, only to start shaking again.  I
looked at Alex, who was looking back with fear and worry.  His face
seemed odd, pale, almost surreal.  The fight drained out of me.  "Help
me, Alex.  Please?"

He approached carefully.  "You need a break, Josh.  This is my fault
for not stopping you sooner."  His hands sought my injured one.  "Is it
broken?"

"I think so," I said, pulling away, drawing into myself.

He sighed and very gently led me out of the room.  On the way out, he
shut the door.  And locked it with the key that he'd fished out of my
pocket.  "You listen to me, okay?  I'm going to keep this key.  You are
not to get near those instruments."

I broke down sobbing, just like that.  Just like a little kid.  I
didn't understand why.  I was tired, angry, frustrated, and worst of
all, humiliated.  What in the hell was I supposed to do?  I made it to
my room and just curled into a ball on the bed.  What in God's name was
going on?  I didn't know.  Nothing made sense.  Sounds were too loud.
The light was too bright.  I was too hot, then too cold.

I heard Alex say quietly, "Jesus," behind me, but the sound seemed to
thunder through the room.  I couldn't stop crying or shaking.  There
was nothing in my head.  No music.  No warmth.  No light.  No feeling.
It was hard to breathe and my head began to pound.  I could feel my
heart racing in my chest, but I didn't move.

Alex sat down on the bed and tried to sit me up, but I pulled away.
His hands felt too hot.  He talked, but I didn't really hear him.  My
mind was racing too, and I still couldn't stop crying.  Nothing seemed
right.  My hand ached.  My head ached.  Alex wouldn't leave me alone.

Finally, he got Christian into the car and took me to the hospital.
After that, things became kind of dim.  I was admitted for some reason
and taken to my own room.  I remember vaguely the mention of surgery,
but it didn't register much.  I gather from what little everyone had
told me that I was under sedation.

When I was able to sit up and talk normally without drugs, I couldn't
really say much.  I felt like a miserable failure, despite what Alex
told me.  He sat with me and talked to me about things that had no
relation whatsoever to music.  I wasn't that interested, but I tried.
I was tired, mostly, and when I finally realized that they'd operated
on my hand, I was worried that I'd screwed up my chances of playing
again.

After a week, I started feeling a little better, but not much.  Alex
called up Michael and Jeff to explain what had happened.  Neither was
happy to hear what had happened, so they told Alex that they'd bring
the Boys by in a couple of days to talk to me.  In the meantime, a
string of different people came in and made me talk to them about a lot
of things...mostly what had happened.  I didn't know why, but it bothered
the hell out of me, and I was happy when they went away.


"Hey," Alex said, smiling gently as he walked into my room, "you up for
visitors today?"

I was sitting in a chair, and my mind was a thousand miles away.
Mostly, I was thinking about how much of a mess I'd made of things.
And how much I hated hospitals.  It took me a while to realize that
Alex was speaking to me.  When I did, I turned to him and said, "Hmm?
Oh, sure.  Who?"

"Michael, Jeff, and your friends."

I frowned and glanced at the calendar on the wall.  "Aren't they
supposed to be in New York?"

Alex shrugged.  "They decided to put that on hold until they could find
out how you were doing."

"Probably came here to watch me get fired," I sighed.  My left hand,
the smart hand, was wrapped in a white cast.  I looked at it and
grimaced.  "Why am I so stupid?"

"You're not."

"Then why am I here?"

"Because you pushed yourself too hard, had a small breakdown, and you
needed someone with medical training to watch over you."

That wasn't anything I hadn't heard before, so I turned to stare out
the window again.  Same old landscape.  "When am I getting out of
here?"

"Well, you're making progress," Alex said cautiously.  "They're saying
you can probably leave later this week."

I looked over at him, really looked.  He looked drawn and haggard.  His
eyes were tired, and as he sat on the bed, he looked as if he were
about to fall asleep.  Christian was asleep right next to him.  But he
managed a smile.  I didn't smile back.  "I don't remember much about
this last week."

"You were doped up.  They had to because you freaked out on them once.
Don't you remember?"

"Not really," I admitted.  "Just loud noises and feeling panicked for
some reason.  What happened?"  Now, I felt a little hollow, but
otherwise, a lot more stable.  Things didn't seem so distorted as they
had in the days before.  Then it had seemed like I wasn't really even
part of the world.  I'd felt like an observer from another planet.

"They sedated you.  They were trying to set your hand and for some
reason, you got scared and tried to break out.  I explained to them
what had just happened and they said you'd probably had a breakdown.
Too much stress, not enough sleep or food, and your system couldn't
handle it.  You slept a lot during the first part of last week, and you
were sedated."

I didn't even remember.  "You know, most of last few weeks...I don't
remember much.  Except talking to that doctor, and my failure."

Alex moved to stand beside me.  "Listen to me.  It's not your fault
that they asked the impossible of you.  You tried your best and it
doesn't matter if you didn't get them all done."

"Yeah, but they asked me to do it, and I said I would."

"Didn't you tell them you didn't think you could?"

I wasn't too sure about that.  "I don't know.  I think I remember doing
it, but I just can't say."  I sighed in frustration.

He laid a calming hand on my shoulder.  "Take it easy.  You're doing a
lot better and there's no sense blowing that now."

I nodded.  "I want to get out of here."

"I know.  You're doing so much better than you were even a few days
ago.  And you're supposed to regain full use of your hand again."

"When are the Boys coming?"

"They'll be here in a few minutes."

They arrived together about fifteen minutes later.  I'd gotten up and
changed into something a little more presentable and was sitting by the
window when they showed up.  I was wishing I could just disappear for a
little while into the trees I saw in the far-off distance.  Alas, no
such luck.  I was still sitting in a room in the middle of a hospital.

Kevin, Howie, and AJ came right up, while the others hung back to talk
to Alex.  I smiled a little for them and tried not to look as tired as
I suddenly felt.

"How's it going?" AJ asked quietly, unsmiling, as he sat down on the
bed.

"Fine," I answered.  "I'm doing a lot better."

"So we hear," Kevin said.  "Alex called us about a week ago to tell us
how you were doing.  We told him that we could be down then to come see
you, but he wanted us to wait."

I shrugged.  "I think he just wanted to be sure I was able to talk back
before you were around.  From what I hear, I was kind of a vegetable,
though I don't remember much after I punched the wall."

That drew their attention to my hand.  "How's it doing?" Howie asked.
"Are you going to be able to play again?"

"I'm supposed to have full use of it," I answered softly.  "It'll take
another four or five weeks, but after that, it'll be okay."

"That's good to hear," Nick said, coming to join the rest.  His
expressive blue eyes were troubled.  "What happened to you?" he asked
softly.  "You're so thin and pale.  You look like a ghost's shadow."

My smile was half weary irony and half self-deprecation.  "Well, what
can I say?"  Ghost's shadow.  Shadow to a ghost.  That was a very
unique choice of words.  One I filed away in the part of my mind that
liked that sort of thing.

Michael and Jeff both stepped forward.  Neither looked overly contrite
or even concerned.  "We understand that you've had a rough time,"
Michael said softly.  "And we're sorry that we piled so much on you at
once.  We should've tried to divide up the work and not put so much
stress on you to get it done.  Josh, you're a very valuable member of
this team, and we feel that this is pretty much our fault."

Jeff stepped up, and nodded.  "Yeah, and we'd like to formally
apologize and let you know that you've still got a job.  Some people
just aren't cut out to work under pressure."

The condescension in his voice made the hairs on the back of my neck
stand up.  "And just what the hell does that mean?  Pressure had
nothing to do with it."  But did I really want to admit that I'd lost
my touch?  I didn't say anything else, but I my eyes started to water
and a couple of damn tears leaked out of the corners.

Alex's eyes were hard.  "Are you people blind?  He worked himself
stupid trying to meet an impossible deadline.  How much do you know
about writing music?  Huh?  You gave him twenty-one days to write
twenty-four songs.  I'd like to see you do it.  Hell, I'd like to see
anyone do it."

The duo looked at each other rather uncomfortably and then back at me.
Michael dropped his eyes.  "I feel bad," he said.  "I didn't mean for
this to happen.  We shouldn't have dumped this on you, Josh.  It was
wrong, and I'm sorry.  You stuck with it when most people would have
quit.  That took a lot of guts."

Jeff nodded and sighed.  "Yeah, he's right.  Under the circumstances,
you did a good job, kid.  I know you don't have many of those pieces
done, but it doesn't matter.  I put way too much emphasis on this.
We're not even slated to record for another four months."  He looked at
the group and me tentatively.  "Do...would that be enough time for *all*
of you?"

The guys looked at me, but I was staring out the window again.  The
damned tears wouldn't stop again.  I couldn't answer the question and I
didn't want to.  I couldn't think about music and I couldn't look at a
piano without bursting into tears.  I didn't know if I'd ever be able
to do it again.

"Josh?"  It was Brian.  He'd taken a seat next to AJ on the bed.  "Are
you okay?"

I shook my head.  "I...guys, I don't know if...if I'll even be able to come
back.  I can't...can't even...I just...I'm afraid."

"Take all the time you need," Michael said firmly.  "If you decide that
you don't want to come back, that's fine, too.  Josh, we are very
sorry, and we don't want to lose you, but if you don't want to play
ball anymore, that's okay.  We understand."

Something loosened in my chest just then.  It felt like a weight had
been lifted off of me, and I was calm again.  I stared at the landscape
and then turned slowly back to the others.  Each wore an expression of
concern and apprehension, but they were trying not to show it.

Their faces...Kevin's dark hair and worried eyes with his fair
complexion, Brian's engaging blue eyes and short reddish hair, Nick's
expressive face, AJ's dark eyes and gentle smile, Howie's perpetual
grin and liquid dark eyes, Alex's hopeful and earnest face...they all
seemed so lovely.  I loved them all.  We were tight and I didn't want
to lose that to something so stupid.

I felt kind of dumb.  I'd broken my hand for no good reason, had worked
myself stupid for no good reason, and had ended up here because of it.
I loved music, and in that moment, I realized again just how important
it was to me; just how much that little background sound meant.  Maybe
I'd never get over my block.  Maybe I would.  But whether I did or not,
music was still music and I'd always be able to read it and play it.
And that was a lot more than a lot of people had.

I looked out the window again and wiped my eyes.  "I guess...I can try,"
I said.  "But there are no promises or guarantees.  I don't know if I
can anymore."

"Just take it a day at a time," Brian said.  He smiled warmly and for a
moment, I was taken back to the days before I knew Alex.  I remembered
fondly the first time we'd met and I remembered how much I'd liked him
then.  I smiled back, completely missing Alex's eyes darkening.

"I think I can do that," I said.


I left the hospital a couple of days later.  I spent two weeks at home
doing absolutely nothing but walking around and talking to Alex.  He
was completely supportive and was more than willing to help me talk
through anything.  One thing he wouldn't let me do was go down into my
studio.  He knew just as I did that I wasn't quite ready for that yet.

Meantime, the guys got ready to head out onto the road.  They pushed
the tour back two weeks, to give me extra time to heal up, but I was
going to miss at least the first three weeks anyway.  Maybe more,
depending on how things went.  I had to work on getting my hand
strength back after I got the cast off and the stitches out.  That
would take time.  Plus, I wasn't too sure how I would do once I got
back on the instruments again.

After the first two weeks, Alex took Christian to daycare for the first
time and left me home alone as he went to work.  He was a little wary
about leaving me alone with Christian because I was a bit temperamental
yet.  But it bothered me that he didn't trust me.

Of course, I didn't say much about it.  I guess it was nice to have a
little peace and quiet around the house.  I persuaded Alex to leave me
the key to my studio and on the very first day, I went down.  I just
went in and looked.  I leaned against the doorframe and looked at my
big black grand.  It gleamed softly under the sunlight.  No dust had
accumulated on it, though almost a month had passed since I'd been in
there.

The dent in the wall was gone.  That accounted for the faint smell of
paint that lingered like a light fog in the room.  Alex had probably
fixed it himself.  He was good at things like that.  I smiled fondly
and then remembered where I was.

Tentatively, I walked into the room and sat down at the bench.  I was
scared.  To tell the truth, I'd never been more afraid in my life.  I
couldn't explain why, but I was afraid I'd never be able to play again.
In retrospect, that belief bordered on absurd.  I could make music, and
that was something I'd gained from years and years of practice.  It
wasn't some magical gift I'd gotten overnight or could lose overnight.

Still, I couldn't help wondering as I lifted my trembling right hand up
to the keys and just let them walk.  What emerged was soft and
delicate, warm and comforting.  I smiled and relaxed a little.  The
shaking stopped and I played with a little more confidence.  Oh, I had
a ways to go yet, but I'd get there eventually.  And the ride was going
to be fun.  I loved music and as I sat there in my studio with the warm
sounds ringing out of the grand, I remembered just how much.

I was still there when Alex came home, but I wasn't playing anything.
He walked downstairs with Christian in one arm.  His eyes betrayed his
apprehension, but when he saw how relaxed I was, he relaxed.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Better," I told him with a smile.  "I think I'll be just fine."

"Did you play today?"

I nodded.  "Nothing in particular.  It was kind of hard at first, but I
just stayed with it."

He smiled warmly.  "That's great.  And you only have another week
before you get your hand out of that cast."

I grinned and both Alex and Christian smiled back.  "That's so cool," I
said.  "I can't wait."

"Me neither.  You're looking a lot better."

"Well, I have you to thank for that," I said.  I got up and hugged him
and Christian.  "I love you both so much," I told them.  "I don't know
what I would have done without you."  Of course, the real test was yet
to come, but I felt better than I had in so long.

The next few days were peaceful.  I got up late, walked with the dogs
and generally took it easy in the mornings.  In the afternoons, I went
down into my studio and started going over some of my old stuff, but
carefully.  I knew how close I'd been to really losing it, so I didn't
push anything.  I didn't try to write anything and I didn't try to
rewrite anything.  Truth to tell, I was scared about even trying.

The cast came off on Monday afternoon.  I went by myself and had it
taken off.  It felt so good to be able to stretch it out and scratch
it.  The damn thing itched to beat all hell and that about drove me
nuts, but once the cast was off, it was better.  It looked okay, except
for a scar running across the knuckles, and another across the middle
of the back.  More scars.

My hand was very weak, I noticed, but my doctor told me to just work
with it, stretch it out and try to build it up.  He said lay off the
piano for a couple of days, but other than that, it'd be okay.  He sent
me home with a rubber ball and told me to squeeze that with my hand as
long as I could.  A few rather gutterish thoughts popped into mind when
he said that, but I thought it best to keep those to myself.

On my way to the house, I picked up Christian from daycare.  He seemed
to be having a good time there, but seemed equally happy to see me.  He
was almost eight months old, getting big and healthy.  And he was
already becoming a favorite of the women who ran the center.  Even
though he was starting to get his first tooth already, he wasn't that
fussy.

He settled companionably in my arms and slung an arm around my shoulder
and babbled out a string of nonsense syllables that I knew would soon
be words.  His cheeks were rosy and his eyes were brighter than usual.
He was as happy as I was, and I laughed when I saw what he was so happy
about.  A couple of two-year-olds were going after each other with big
foam bats (with no plastic in sight, mercifully).  They weren't hitting
hard, but they knocked down a stack of blocks and Christian howled with
laughter.

"Boy, what a kid," I muttered as I made my way out.  It was still
relatively early, so we headed over to Alex's office and spent some
time with him before we all went out for dinner and a movie.  Later, I
told Alex about what the doctor had told me about squeezing a rubber
ball.

The next day, I kept Christian with me at home as I puttered around the
house.  There wasn't much to do, but we managed.  My spirits were a lot
higher.  Since I'd gotten out of the hospital, I'd been much more
cheerful.  I felt good and it looked like the worst of it was behind
me.

I waited nearly a week before returning to the piano.  But when I did,
it was like I'd never left.  It felt so natural and so right to play it
again.  Almost like a rebirth.  The warm, cheerful music drifted up as
it always had, although I was pretty rusty.  Plus, I lost a lot of the
flexibility in my fingers.

Alex was there and he listened with a big smile.  In a way, it was
almost anticlimactic.  I mean, how else could it have turned out?  I'd
blown a circuit when I overworked myself, but with over a month between
then and now, and a lot of rest, it was totally normal.

After that, I pushed myself to get my hands back into shape.  I was
eager to meet the guys out on the road, and Alex was happy to get me
going.  I worked three times a day for about two hours per session,
just going over everything I knew how to play and trying to make sure
my hands could function.  And on the different instruments.  Each one
required a different set of motions, but I played a different
instrument each time.

It went very smoothly, and a little more than three weeks after I got
out of my cast, I was ready to hit the road.  Alex and I talked for a
long while before I left because I felt bad about leaving him and
Christian alone, but Alex assured me that he'd be okay.  I loved him so
much then, and always.  And before I left, I made absolutely sure to
tell him that several times.

I met the guys in for the first time in Arizona over two years ago.
And that was where I met them all again.  I flew down to Phoenix by
myself, promising myself to fly Alex and Christian out in a few weeks.
It didn't feel right for me to just abandon them for two months.

The guys and the band were plenty happy to see me when I met them at
their hotel.  I arrived relatively early, and they had the day off so
we all took a quick trip down to Blackstone just for the hell of it.
That's where it had all started.  Boy, two years.  In that time, I'd
almost gotten together with Brian, graduated, taught school, found
Alex, gotten Christian, wrote songs and became a part of the Backstreet
camp.  God, the ironies never cease to amaze me.

I looked up my old friend David and discovered he was still in town.
The six of us arranged to meet him, and he was as charmingly annoying
as ever, but he'd been following the group closely.  I told him just a
little about what had been going on since I'd last seen him, and all he
could do was laugh and tell me that he figured that somehow I'd end up
where I did.  He was teaching Psychology at one of the local high
schools.

The next day was my first show, and I was a nervous wreck.  I paced and
paced, and annoyed the hell out of everyone until Kevin yelled at me to
stop before I wore a hole in the carpet.  At my current pace, I
probably would have.

But I was fine.  The show was absolutely normal, and not a thing went
wrong.  My hands didn't betray me and it sounded great.  It also felt
wonderful to be back up there.  I'd almost forgotten how much of a
thrill it was to be up there on the stage performing.  I was glad I
hadn't quit.  This was where I was supposed to be.

They broached the subject I'd been dreading about a week later.

It was Kevin, really.  Mr. Responsibility struck again.  "Josh, we
should probably sit down and get to work on those songs today or
tomorrow, since we're off."

The five Boys, Jer, and I were in Kevin's rather luxurious hotel room.
Andy and Meghan were out on the town already, and Dennis hadn't
bothered to come home.  We figured he'd found a girl and had spent the
night...er, wooing her.

The room became quiet in a hurry after Kevin's nonchalant declaration.
Nobody looked at me, but I knew as surely as I knew my own name what
they were thinking.  I was still afraid of it, but I also realized that
this had had to happen sooner or later.

So, I sighed and nodded.  "All right."

"You up for this?" AJ asked.

"I don't know," I answered honestly.  My heart was pounding in my
chest, and I felt a little dizzy.  Oh, wonderful.  "Uh, I guess...there's
no time like the present, is there?"

"Are you sure?" Nick asked from his seat behind AJ.  His eyes, as
usual, showed his concern.  It was actually very touching and
steadying.  "Josh, you don't look so good."

"I don't feel that good all of a sudden," I answered quietly.  "But
there's nothing to be done.  I knew that this was bound to happen, and
I've been dreading it, but I can't really put it off much longer."

"Right," Brian murmured, "but we don't want to push you into something
like what had happened before."

I smiled at him-all of them-and realized just *how* worried they'd
been.  "Thank you.  All of you.  But I think...I feel different now.  I
feel a lot better about it than I have in a long time.  I mean that."

There was a long pause as all of that was digested.  Come hell or high
water, we were going to do this.  I knew then that I'd be okay.  As
long as I didn't push it or push myself too hard, I'd be okay.

"All right," Kevin said, as he stood in one fluid motion that we all
watched with varying degrees of envy.  Brian had commented to me time
and again how much he wished he was as graceful as his cousin, not
realizing that, in his own way, he was.  Perhaps even more so.

Getting back into songwriting was like rediscovering an old love.  I
found myself again in the next couple of hours, and although the
session wasn't entirely productive, I felt better for it.  We didn't
really try to do too much, as everyone sort of understood that I wanted
to just ease back into it.

After that day, though, as it had been when I'd rejoined the band, I
made the recovery in quick leaps and bounds.  The confidence I'd lost
in myself returned relatively quickly as the music began to pour from
my mind once again.  The frustration, the anger, and everything that
I'd felt before unraveled and dissolved as we worked over the course of
the next few weeks.

It took about a month to get all of the songs reworked, but it didn't
matter.  We had two dozen wonderful songs, and we all felt great about
them.  Everyone, the band included, had a hand in the process.  My role
was pretty much to lay down melodies and to figure out harmonies.  But
I had all the help I needed if I got stuck, which did happen a few
times, but it didn't produce nearly as much distress as it had in the
past.

We got the songs to Jeff and Michael before the deadline and they made
a special trip out to Minnesota just to tell us how much they loved
them all.  But they also dropped a sort of bombshell on the guys, too.

They'd gone out to lunch together, while Dennis, Meghan, Andy, Jer, and
I all got set up for the show that night.  Things weren't at all quiet
between us.  As before, we'd settled into a comfortable working
relationship and the jokes flew back and forth.  Except with Jer.  He'd
gotten very quiet lately.

When the Boys got back from their lunch, they were all very quiet and a
bit tense.  "What's wrong with you guys?" Meghan asked, once we were
all together.  "You look like you lost your contract or something."

Howie looked at her with his quiet eyes and smiled a soft, tired smile.
"No, it's nothing like that.  We just...well, they kind of hit us with
something pretty big."

"What?" Meghan demanded.  "Tell me."

"No," Kevin said sharply.  "Michael and Jeff are coming here in fifteen
minutes and they'll tell you themselves."

>From the looks of things, it wasn't good.  "And you can't tell us?"
Dennis asked quietly.

"No," Kevin answered with a frown, but he wasn't looking at any of us.
He just sort of brushed off the front of his dark blue shirt and
cleared his throat.  "Just leave it at that, okay?"

"Oh, c'mon, Kevin.  We can act surprised."

For the third time, Kevin said, "No.  Now, have you finished the sound
checks?"

"Ah, no," Andy answered.  He looked as troubled as I felt.  His
normally calm demeanor had been replaced by a frown and worry.  He
pulled off his baseball cap and scrubbed a hand through his white-blond
hair.  "No, we're, uh, we're not done."

"Come on, then.  Let's get them done.  What's left?"

"The two saxes and the keyboards are done.  Nothing else."

"What the hell have you been doing here?" AJ asked, irritated.  "You're
not getting paid to sit around."  He glared at the floor and adjusted
his dark shirt.

"We've been setting up," Jeremiah said from his place on one of the
tall speakers.  "It wasn't done right, so we've had to do it ourselves.
We're running behind, but if you shut up and help, we can get this
done."

AJ let that go and sighed.  "Let's go, then."

Jeff and Michael, managers extraordinaire, wandered in about half an
hour later.  We'd been making some good progress getting everything
done, but the conversation and good-natured joking was gone.  Something
was definitely up, and we figured out what when the duo made their
entrance and dropped the big bomb.

Jeff's first words weren't even words of greeting.  "We're phasing out
the band," he blurted to the assembled group, which was just the five
of us who comprised it.  The Boys were elsewhere.

"What?" Dennis, who was a lot faster to react than the rest of us,
managed to spit out.  "What in the hell are you talking about?"

"Obviously they didn't tell you," Michael murmured.  "We've decided
to...change the Boys' image."

"Yeah, that's pretty obvious," Meghan said calmly, blinking slowly.
"But what do you mean you're phasing the band out?"

"Just that," Jeff said.  "Look, you're all very valuable and great
musicians, but we're trying to make these Boys sound more mature so
that they have longer staying power.  As you've probably seen already,
pop is being pushed out again, and we've got to change with the times.
So they're going to take over playing the music for all their songs.
We'll want you to stick around to help out record the album, but you'll
not be needed for the next tour."

The five of us stood looking at each other in silence.  Jeremiah's eyes
were distant and thoughtful, as were Andy's.  Meghan's were dark, and
Dennis' were unreadable.  None of us wanted to believe it.  Well, it
wasn't like the world was going to end or anything, but we'd all gotten
used to being here and we all pretty much figured on being around
longer.

"You'll be well compensated," Michael informed us.  "And we'll set you
up with new gigs."  He looked in my direction.  "Did they talk to you?"

"Me?" I asked.  "No."

"Oh.  No wonder you...sorry.  We want you to stick around."

I looked around at the others and saw them looking back at me with some
contempt.  "Why me?"

"I think you know why," Jeff said.  "You're back to your old self and
those new songs are absolutely fabulous.  I know the Boys did most of
the lyrical work, but the music is fantastic and Kevin told me that you
were responsible."

"Hey," Dennis interjected, "we had hands in it, too."

"I'm sure you did, but the Boys all agreed that Josh did the most work
out of all of you."

I felt myself going red.  It was embarrassing to be in the middle of
something like this.  I felt kind of bad about being the only one
staying, but at the same time, it was job security.  After a few more
moments, I excused myself and went to find the guys.  It was still
relatively early, and with most of the sound checks done, they were
relaxing.

I didn't smile when I saw them.  "Do you really want to become a real
band?" I asked bluntly.

Nick and AJ both shrugged.  "Sure," AJ said.  "It's not really that big
of a deal."

"You don't mind?"

Brian looked up from the big pool table in the middle of the room and
smiled.  "Didn't I tell you once that I'm not a big fan of dancing?
It'll be kind of nice to be able to get away from that for a while."

"We're all tired," Howie said, tossing down a book.  "Besides, this was
going to happen eventually, and we thought now would be a good time."

"You thought?" I asked.  "Or Jeff and Michael thought it for you?"

"We thought it," Kevin said firmly, taking his shot at the pool table.
The cue ball struck the eight a glancing blow, but it was enough to
land it in the corner pocket.  He grimaced.  "Dammit.  Lost again."

"Mind your language," I murmured absently, and then realized what I'd
just said.  They were all looking at me strangely.  "Sorry.  Alex has
me doing that."

"So, what do you think?" Nick asked, as he moved around the pool table,
collecting the balls from the pockets.  "About sticking around when
they're all leaving?"

I asked them the same thing I asked Jeff and Michael.  "Why me?"

"I think you know why."  That was Kevin.

"Okay, okay.  I feel a little strange about it."

"Why?" AJ asked.  He'd taken a seat on one of the couches.  "You're all
our good friends and it sucks to have to lose any of you, but you know
that you are, hands down, the best musician out of any of us.  If you
really wanted to, you could go solo."

"And pigs might fly," I muttered.  That was something I'd never
considered and wouldn't consider for a while.

"You're supposed to help us learn how to play," Brian said quietly.
"That's the big part of it, but you also play the violin and none of
them do."

Nick smiled wryly, "And we noticed you used it pretty heavily in those
new pieces."

I shrugged.  "I just like the sound."

"Whatever."

"So this tour marks the end of it for the dancing, then, huh?"

"No.  Europe, remember?  That'll be it, then." Kevin answered before
shooting.  This time, the cue struck the three dead on and it settled
into the side pocket.  He moved around to the other side.  "You've seen
how people are starting to turn on the pop musicians.  It's just time
we moved on."  He shot.  The four glanced off the eight before settling
into the corner.

Well.  That was interesting.  I wanted to talk more, but the rest of
the band, all somber, came back into the room.


The tour meandered back toward Florida.  A distance grew between the
band and the group, which no one could seem to help.  No one fought,
but everyone seemed to pull away.  Brian, out of everyone, seemed to
pull away most.

He got quiet, restless, and spent almost all of his time with Jeremiah.
When he was around any of us, there was a sullen, angry air about him.
His performances didn't suffer, but he lashed out at us a lot, and
refused to talk to us.

Kevin and Nick worried especially, but all of us were bothered.
Jeremiah, meanwhile, became sharp and aggressive.  Just like the old
days.  I began to wonder about him, but as the tour began to wind down,
he mellowed out.  But still, I had my doubts.  So did everyone else.

We finished the tour right on time and went our own ways for a week
before AJ, Brian, Howie, Kevin, Nick, and I all had to report to Jeff's
office.  It took five hours to decide which songs were going to be on
the new album.  There would be fifteen in all, which was a lot, but we
didn't care.

After that, I took another couple of days off while the Boys did their
photo shoots and interviews, which I spent in the company of my
wonderfully attentive and loving significant other.  Christian was
happy to see me and was starting to talk.  He'd called Alex 'daddy,'
and I regretted missing that.  But then Christian started calling me
'daddy,' as well, which was great.

Early the next week, which was just at the beginning of spring, we
started recording.  The band showed up to lay down the track, but also
to show the Boys what needed to be done.  We only had a month before we
had to be off for Europe, which pissed Alex off, but there was nothing
that could be done.  The summer tour was important.

Brian still seemed distant in the studio and especially on the road,
but no one wanted to say anything.  There wasn't really anything wrong
with him, other than the fact that he just didn't say a lot and kept to
himself, mostly.  He was restless and moody, which cast a pall on all
of us, but he just didn't want to talk about it.

While on the road in Europe, we took time away to finish laying down
the music for the album, and the Boys got a good deal done with the
vocals.  By the time we left Europe in late July, they were mostly
done.

We said our final farewells to the band at the last show in London.  It
was dry-eyed and informal, as we'd already said what we wanted to say
by then.  Meghan and Andy were going to join a fledgling band together
so they wouldn't be split up.  They were going to be married sometime
around Christmas.  Dennis had been asked to be in Brittany Spears'
backup band, to which, obviously, he readily agreed.

As for Jeremiah, Brian had talked Jeff into letting him stay on as one
of the technical crew.  I didn't like it, and it was clear that none of
the others did, either.  We all walked in wide circles of him because
he'd changed.  In place of the affable, friendly person we'd come to
know was a quiet, but mean person that no one liked.  Just like old
times.

Kevin, AJ, Nick, Howie, and I talked a lot during the recording
sessions and in Europe about what was going on with him and Brian.
None of us knew and we didn't know what to do.  In the end, we didn't
do anything, and just let it go.  Brian pulled away and his expressive,
striking eyes became guarded and a little dull again.

But we didn't do anything about it.


The tour ended and the band disappeared.  The reaction in public was
mixed, but everyone was pretty willing to give it a go.  The Boys spent
most of the first five days in August recording the last bit of vocals,
and then it was declared finished.

Michael called us into his office not long after that.  I'd brought
Christian because I wanted to spend time with him.  He was getting big
and heavy, now over a year old, but he was still the charmer he'd been
when he was small.  He talked up a storm to strangers, but I'd told him
to be quiet for a while.

  "Hey guys," Michael said, walking in and sitting down on a chair.  "I
have some interesting news.  Mariah Carey wants to do a song with you
guys at the MTV Video Music Awards."  He looked in my direction.  "And
your video is up for five awards."

"That's so cool," AJ said, grinning broadly.  Then he frowned.  "She
wants to do a song with us?  Why?  We don't have any other
collaborations with her."

Michael shrugged.  "That's no big deal."

I was still puzzled as to why he'd called me in with the group. "Uh,
why am I here, now?" I asked from my chair.

"Haven't you figured it out by now?" Jeff asked.  "What is your primary
job with this group?"

I sighed.  Of course.  "The music, right?  You want me to supply the
song."

"Yeah.  Mariah expressed interest in working with the Boys and their
head songwriter, who is you, so there you go.  She'll be in New York
City for the next two weeks, so, my apologies, but the six of you are
going to have to head up there this afternoon."

I glanced at Christian.  "You know, you really ought to give us more
notice than this."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" I asked, indicating the little lad who'd wiggled
out of my lap and was playing quietly on the floor.  "I can't exactly
leave him at home alone.  If I can meet them there tomorrow, I can
arrange for care."

Jeff sighed.  "Fine.  Just so you get there, okay.  Hell, why don't all
of you just go there tomorrow?"

"Hell!" Christian yelled happily.  "Daddy...hell!"  He had a knack for
picking up language.

"Mind watching your language?" I asked, but I was laughing.  So were
the rest of them.  "He picks it up quickly."  I picked him up and put
him in my lap.  He giggled as I ticked his stomach.  Christian was
rapidly becoming a favorite with both the Boys and their management.

"So he does," Michael said around his own grin.  "Bright boy.  Yeah, I
suppose you all can go tomorrow, but you need as much time as possible
up there."

"Right," Kevin sighed.

When I got back to the house, I made a quick little lunch for the two
of us, and then we headed to Alex's office.  Alex was quite happy to
see us.

"Hey, there's my boy," he said, holding his arms out for Christian.

"Da," Christian yelled, running with his pudgy little baby steps to
Alex's waiting arms.  Christian distinguished between the two of us by
calling me 'daddy' and Alex 'da'.

"I'm glad you stopped by," Alex said.  "Where were you?"

"With the Boys and management," I said.

"Oh.  Say, something's come up, and I'm flying to New York tomorrow
morning because I have to help the boss with a presentation.  I'm sorry
it's so spur of the moment.  Can you take care of Chris?"

Whoa, now that was a little more than I could handle.  "No," I said,
laughing.  "Believe it or not, I was coming over here to ask you the
same thing.  The Boys and I are supposed to be meeting Mariah Carey in
New York so we can write a song to perform for the VMA's next month."

Alex chuckled.  "So I guess he gets to come up to New York with us,
then."

"Yeah.  How long are you staying?"

"Three or four days.  You?"

"As long as it takes to write this song.  They said she'll be up there
for two weeks, so that's the maximum," I said.  "But I'm pretty sure it
won't take anywhere near that long."

"Well, I'm bailing Jim out, so I'm sure he'll be nice and let me stay
up there until you come back."  Jim was his boss.

"That sounds cool," I said.  "What a weird coincidence.  We're both
going to New York City tomorrow.  Say, do you want to fly up with the
Boys?  We're heading out early."

"Sure."

"I'll call them."

It was no problem, so the next morning, we packed up and got onto the
plane.  Christian was good, as usual, although he was just a bit fussy.
Now that he could talk, he used his voice and talked a lot of the way
up there.  It was cute, but after a while, it grew a little annoying,
so I gave him a few toys to play with.  He ended up hitting Howie in
the nose with a plastic block, but fortunately for all, Howie was okay.

When we got there, I took Christian with me to check into our hotel.
Alex went to meet up with his boss.  We were supposed to meet Mariah at
a studio at one in the afternoon.  I wondered how long it would take to
write the song.  From what I heard, she wrote some of her own music, so
maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

The seven of us got to the studio right on time.  A short man greeted
us at the door and showed us to a large, private studio.  A tall, slim
woman with long, brown hair was lounging in a comfortable chair.  She
was wearing tight jeans and a loose-fitting shirt.  Her eyes were
inward turned, but when she heard us walk into the room, she came back
to reality and smiled.

"Ah, there you guys are," she said.  "Right on time."

"Here we are," Kevin said walking forward to shake her hand.  "I'm
Kevin.  This is AJ, Nick, Howie, my cousin Brian, and Josh."  He paused
and realized that he'd forgotten Christian.  "Oh, and this is Josh's
son Christian."

"Nice to meet you all, finally," she murmured.  We all knew her name,
and it would have been redundant for her to say it.  Her eyes latched
onto Christian and she smiled.  "He's cute.  Jeez, these boy band
performers just keep getting younger and younger."

That got us all laughing.  Christian just looked mildly puzzled and
then toddled over to her and raised his chubby arms.  "Up!" he said
loudly.  When she picked him up, he grinned and we all laughed again.

"Boy, he's not shy, is he?" Kevin asked.

"Nope," I said.

Mariah, meanwhile, was chuckling.  "So, Josh, you're the songwriter of
the group, yes?"

"I guess so," I said.

"Well, why don't we get to this, guys?  I have until five o'clock this
evening for today.  We can at least bounce around a few ideas."

I shrugged and walked over to the piano.  "Would you guys mind coming
over here?  It's just easier for me, at least, to start on the piano."
I saw that Christian was already starting to doze off.  "You can put
him into his stroller," I told Mariah.  "He'll sleep for a few hours
and stay out of out way."

None of them minded, and soon, we were all tossing ideas around.  Nick
and Brian came up with the idea for a not-so-serious song.  It seemed
like a good idea because we were all in this for fun.  I picked out a
catchy melody, grateful that I'd been able to recover from that bad go
all those months ago.  The guys and Mariah started out on harmonies and
thought about lyrics.

The song was totally finished in another two days.  The best part of it
was that everyone had a hand in it.  All of us contributed something.
Mariah, Kevin, AJ, Howie, and Nick did most of the lyrics, while Brian
and I built up the music.  When the basic melody was down, we all
worked on harmonies and vocals.  It worked like a charm and when we
were done, we had a funny, catchy little pop number that I was proud to
have had a hand in.

Since it had taken so little time, our management suggested we record
it.  That meant another day and a half for me.  I did the faster-paced
beat on the keys, while Brian and Howie jammed out on the guitars.
Nick added a relatively simple drumbeat and that was it for me.  They
all had to go back later and add vocals, which took them another day or
so, but it was very simple.

Meanwhile, I spent time in the city with Alex and Christian.  Alex's
presentation had gone smoothly, and the shareholders were going to give
their official word within a week, but it looked good.  It looked like
the company was going to expand beyond Florida.  If that happened, Alex
was going to be promoted again and taking over Jim's job as manager.
How Alex managed to move through the ranks of the company so fast, I'll
never know, but he was happier than I'd seen him in a long time.

We headed back to Florida about five days early and Alex went right
back to work.  Since I had that time off, I spent it with Christian.
He'd been going to daycare in my absence, but I was eager to spend time
with him.  The group had been working pretty hard and this was time off
that I needed.

I still thought about the time when I'd fallen apart.  Nothing like
that had happened on tour, but at times, I was afraid of losing my
sanity.  I hated being alone.  That was why I'd taken to going out with
the guys on tour.  I didn't drink, and the clubs we sometimes went to
were awfully noisy, but that was better than being alone.


Of course, it's funny how quickly things can change.  A few relatively
peaceful weeks passed like the blink of an eye.  Alex's company had
gotten the green light for expansion and Alex had settled into his new
job with gusto.  He was a born leader, even if he didn't know it.  The
company was becoming a front-runner in software manufacturing.  They
made games, word-processing software, and were hoping to put out
operating software to rival Microsoft, but the chances of that
happening were, realistically, nonexistent.  But still, they wanted to
try.

For some reason, Alex had become quiet around me lately.  I wasn't home
a lot of the time, and when I was, I had to compete for his attention
with Christian.  That, of course, had stemmed from when I'd been in the
hospital the year before.  Alex had to take care of him and me, and
now, I was starting to see the repercussions of it.

I tried to talk to him about it, but he didn't say much.  So, I left it
alone and tried to help out as much as I could, but he made it clear
that Christian was his responsibility and I shouldn't trouble myself.
It bugged me, and I knew I should have said something, but I couldn't.
I tried, though.

The distance grew little by little, hardly noticed at first.

Still, we were all looking forward to going to New York for the MTV
Video Music Awards.  We were going three days early because of
rehearsals and stuff like that.  This year, the guys were hoping to win
more than one award, and it looked like maybe...just maybe they stood a
chance.  The thing was that they wanted me to come up with them, since
I'd been in the video with them.  I protested, but they insisted.  If
they won, I'd be there too.

A couple of days before we were going to leave, Alex came home after
work looking very serious.  He'd picked up Christian from daycare on
his way home and was carrying the fussy tyke.  I was sitting at the
dining room table writing a few things down in a journal.  I was
worried and a little bit wary at his look.

"Josh, I need to talk to you," Alex said, setting Christian down on the
couch and shushing him.  They were both a little wet from the rain that
was falling outside.

"Sure," I answered, tossing my pen down.  "What's up?"

"Listen, about the awards thing, I'm not going to be able to make it.
Christian's daycare is having a play and he's in it.  I want to go, but
it's the same day as the awards."

I blinked incredulously.  "You're not coming?"

"I'm sorry, Josh, but I want to spend more time with Christian."

"So that's it, then?" I asked, utterly baffled.  "You're going to miss
seeing me play for the Boys *and* Mariah Carey?  *And* possibly getting
an award?  Thanks.  It's nice to know just how much I mean to you."

"I'm sorry, but Christian is just as important to me."

"I know," I said.  "I know that, Alex.  But..."  I sighed, jumped up, and
started pacing.  "But lately, it's always me versus Christian for your
attention."  I put my hands in front of me, palms up, like a set of
balances.  "Josh.  Christian."  I indicated each hand by turn.
"Christian.  Josh.  Lately, it's been all this."  I raised my right
hand above the left; the right was the one I'd nodded toward when I'd
said Christian's name.  "Christian is taking up so much of your time
lately, I'm beginning to wonder if you even remember me anymore."

Alex's eyes were hard.  "Somebody's got to take care of him.  You
certainly aren't around to do it.  Besides, you didn't want him in the
first place, remember?  So why worry?"

That stung, especially since it wasn't true.  But still... "You never
gave me much of a choice," I said.  "If I recall correctly, your words
were, 'Oh, he doesn't mind.'  I didn't mind, and I don't.  I love that
boy like he's my own.  I didn't, however, expect you to pull away from
me like you have."

"Is that my fault?  You don't seem that interested in taking care of
Christian."

"I do plenty!" I argued.  I jumped up and started to pace.  "Dammit,
Alex, that's not fair!  I do just as much as you without ever bitching
about it.  I can't help it that my job takes me away from here.  But
when I'm here, I don't dump him off at the daycare, do I?  No.  All
I've heard from you lately, though, is that I'm not doing my share or
that he's *your* responsibility since he's your child by law.  When I
do try to help you, you just tell me to leave it alone.  What the hell
am I supposed to do?"

"Just back off, okay?  He *is* my responsibility."

"And mine.  But what about me, Alex?  Don't you have any responsibility
to me anymore?  My god.  I love you, you know.  But it's hard when you
won't let me."

"Do you love me?  I used to think maybe you did, but now, I'm not so
sure.  You're so...you're selfish.  That's all.  It's always about you
and what you want to do.  It always has been."  Alex had tears in his
eyes.  "Dammit, I have a life, too!  Christian is my life.  If you
can't accept that, well then, to hell with you!"  He turned around and
walked out, slamming the door firmly behind him.  Christian started
crying.

It was my turn to sigh.  I walked to him and picked him up.  He was
getting pretty heavy, but wasn't too much trouble.  I walked him around
and tried my best to quiet him.  After a while, he stopped and laid his
head back down on my shoulder.  His chest hitched for a little while,
but eventually, he drifted off to sleep.

What in Christ's name had just happened here?  Had I been selfish?  Was
I shirking my responsibility to Alex and Christian?  I tried.  I'd only
been gone for three months this year and had even flown the two of them
out to be with me for a while.  Sure, I didn't take Christian with me
to the recording studio, but he was happy in daycare and he wasn't in
the way there.

The more I thought about it, the more his words seemed to make sense.
I had been laid out for a while when I'd been in the hospital.  He'd
had to take time off work to take care of me and the baby.  I hadn't
been much help for a long time afterward.  I'd done what I could, but
it had taken a long time for Alex to trust me with Christian again.
And even now, he was wary about leaving us alone.

I couldn't think of one good thing to say to him.  I realized that we'd
gotten distant in the last few weeks, but neither of us had noticed.
We'd found our projects and immersed ourselves in them.  I kept walking
Christian around the room and wondered what I'd say to Alex when he
showed back up.

A short while later, there was a soft tap at the front door.  I set the
sleeping Christian down in his crib and padded to open it.  It was
raining, still, I could see as I opened the door.  But that was soon
forgotten when I saw who stood outside.

"Brian," I gasped, taking in the shaking, pale specter in front of me.
His face was bruised and bleeding quite badly, and his eyes were
swimming with tears.  "Jesus Christ, come in out of the rain."  I moved
aside to let him past.

He stumbled on his way in and landed in a sobbing heap on the floor.
When I reached down to try to help him, he pulled away, terrified.  "D-
don't t-touch me."

I moved away and stood looking over him, confused.  "Brian, I just want
to help you.  What can I do?  Do you want me to call Kevin?"

"N-No!"  He calmed down a little and managed to pick himself up from
the floor.

As gently as I could, I reached out and led him into my room.  "Come
on.  Let's get you out of those wet clothes, okay?"

He nodded and followed, but was still crying pretty hard.  There was, I
noticed, blood dripping out of his nose and off his lip, so we went
into the bathroom instead.  He sat down on the sink and grabbed a
handful of tissues.  "Thank you."

"Sure."  I didn't press.  "Say, I'll be right back, okay?  I'm going to
go check on Christian and I'll get something for you to wear.  Alex is
closer to your size than I am."

"Okay," he whispered huskily.  "Just...d-don't leave me."

"I won't.  Will you tell me what happened?"  When he nodded, I smiled
and turned to walk out of the room.  Christian was still sleeping
soundly, but I didn't want to leave him alone, so after I grabbed a
clean T-shirt and sweats for Brian, I picked up the little boy and took
him up to the crib in my room.

"Here," I said.  He had stripped down, and was wearing only a towel.  I
winced as I looked at his body.  There were bruises, fresh and half-
healed, running the length of his torso.  "Jesus.  Jesus Christ, Brian.
What happened to you?"

He looked up, blue eyes dull and swimming, and then looked away.  One
word escaped his lips, much like a melancholy sigh.  "Jeremiah."  He
accepted the clothing and proceeded to dress.  Out of politeness, I
turned away.

I was angry.  The pieces had suddenly fallen into place, and even
though I wanted to hear exactly what had happened, I already knew.
People sure as hell didn't change.  The only question that remained was
what the hell I was going to do about Jeremiah?  He'd beaten Brian
before, obviously, judging by the half-healed bruises on Brian's body.

Brian cleared his throat.  "I, uh, I came home this afternoon, a-and he
was...well, doing some other guy.  It shocked me and...and I asked what the
hell was going on.  He got up and just...he said...I wasn't...he said I was
just...I was just a fuck and that he never loved me.  He said...he said I
was bad in bed and worthless.  Then he...started hitting me.  The guy
yelled at him to stop...but he wouldn't.  So I ran.  I didn't know where
to go, but I ended up over here."  His eyes held mine, pleading.
"Please help me."

By that point, I was literally trembling with my anger.  "What do you
want me to do?" I asked.

At that point, he broke down again.  This time, I was right by his
side.  I led him into my room and sat him down on the bed, while he
cried out his pain and frustration on my shoulder.  But there was also
a measure of relief in his tears.  He clung to me as if I were the only
thing that could keep him from drowning.  I held him gently and just
let him let go.  In the back of my mind, however, I was thinking about
be best way to strike back at Jeremiah, short of castration.

After a while, maybe twenty minutes, Brian's sobs tapered off and he
tried to compose himself.  He sighed, but didn't let go of me.
"Can...can I stay here for tonight?"

I shrugged.  "Sure.  You can stay as long as you want.  My study is
open and it's got that big, comfy couch."  I'd forgotten all about the
little argument I'd had with Alex.

"Thanks.  I guess...well...it's over.  Between Jeremiah and me, that is."

"I figured.  How long has he been hitting you?"

"I don't know.  He'd only done it a few times before."  His eyes were
pleading.  "It didn't even start until about a month ago."

"What do you want to do?"  I shifted a little so that I could look up
into his eyes, but he rested his chin on my head.  It was actually
quite comfortable.

He sighed and said, "I don't know yet.  I just...I'll need to talk to
Kevin tomorrow.  We can figure it out from there.  For now, I want to
just be away."  He sniffled.  "Thank you, though.  You don't know how
much your being here has meant to me."

"It's no big deal," I said.  "I just want you to be safe and well.
After all, aren't we friends?"

"Sure."  A long pause ensued, in which we just sat and relaxed.  I was
comfortable and drowsy in his arms, even though there were warning
bells going off in the back of my mind.

A couple of gentle fingers found their way under my chin and lifted it
up.  Before I could so much as blink, a pair of warm lips had found
mine.  For the first moment, I couldn't think, couldn't move.  I was
trapped, utterly helpless to resist.  And after that moment, I didn't
want to resist.

Suddenly, reality came crashing down when an angry voice snapped, "What
the hell is going on here?"


To be continued...
*************

Perhaps the three most hated words, those.  A cliffhanger.  Reality
does indeed come crashing down.  Well, this is almost the end, folks.
Part 6 is going to be the end.  It's more than likely going to be
longer than these previous (I can hear people saying, "Jesus, Chris,
they're long enough as it is." Sorry.).  That's just the way it is.

This one was a little different, I know.  I wasn't really even sure if
I was going to put it through, but a friend told me that I probably
should, so I figured I would.  I'm not even too sure if I like it, but
here it is.  Not too much I can do about it now.

Anyway, I'll stop blabbering now and leave it at that.  This next one
may take as long or longer to get out, depending on how many revisions
I decide to make, but it'll be there sooner or later.  Until then, take
care and happy reading.  Adieu.