Being Lonely

By moc.liamtoh@1651repmuht

Published on Sep 11, 2001

Gay

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

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

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

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

Chapter One ...Being Lonely

He awoke in a sweat. That was not unusual. He was in a strange room. Not unusual either. Then the pain hit. It was like a bouncer had rammed his fists into his guts. He doubled over in bed, assuming the fetal position. 'Oh, God.', he thought. 'I need a drink.' He tried to move his head to look for the phone to order room service but the pounding in his temples made every move an exercise in agony. Finally, he managed to lift his head. There was no phone. He tried to puzzle it out. It looked like every other hotel room he had spent the last six years in. 'Maybe I moved it.' He tried to stand up but only succeeded in crashing to the floor. The pain was all over his body now and Alex couldn't fight it. He wanted to cry or scream but no sound came out of his mouth. The door opened and two nurses in white rushed in.

"Mr. MacLean....Mr. MacLean..."

He looked at them helplessly.

"Better call the doctor, Sandy."

The female nurse left the room.

"A.J.," the male nurse cautiously put a hand on his pulse. "A.J., Can you hear me?"

He closed his eyes and drifted into the past.

It was a beautiful Florida day. He and Kevin were driving around Orlando in his brand new car with top down. The radio was tuned to the local pop station. They had heard from Lou that their first U.S. single was going to get airplay that day. Alex had been too excited to sit around the house and wait. So they drove and drove until 12:23 pm when the DJ announced a new song by a local group here in Orlando...the Backstreet Boys. 'Quit Playin' Games(With My Heart)' filled the air. He could've cried. This was the moment he had been working for, even longer than the last few years with Backstreet. He was determined to be somebody. He knew he wasn't destined for the same life his family had been dealt. He had drive, ambition, and talent, but making it in show business meant making it in America. The European success had been great but it had never felt real. Now, Alex knew it was for real. Kevin leaned over and kissed him. They had never kissed in public before, even if it was in the empty parking lot of a closed supermarket. Alex had never been so happy.

Later, when the doctor asked what he was thinking about as he collapsed, A.J. thought about the moment and said simply, "Nothing."

Another flash, in spite of the publicity, the Backstreet Boys were never like brothers. A.J. was frequently amused by the lengths to which the publicists went to reinforce that image. Kevin and Brian were cousins of course, but hadn't been particularly close. Nick was young, just a kid, and although he and Brian cut up together, the age difference kept him separate from the others. Howie, contrary to his shy, good guy public image was the coldest one of all. He could cut you with a look. Kevin, always the adult, sometimes wearied of the role he had to play. Brian was from a fundametalist background. He couldn't help that of course but it was reinforced by his girlfriend/wife Leighanne. Alex had never fit in. Still there were happy moments together. Performing in Spain on the party island of Ibiza at a foam party for five thousand screaming hopheads was one. The club manager neglected to mention that one stream of foam came from behind the stage and Alex had lost his footing and found himself swept into the crowd. Kevin had actually plunged off the stage with a bodyguard to find Alex and help pull him back to safety on the stage. He was coughing and having trouble catching his breath. His head was nestled against Kevin's smooth perfectly muscled chest. Kevin's strong arms were around him. Alex held on to him as long as he could. Then Kevin picked him up and carried him like a child to the dressing room. Their tour manager and Brian were in a rage. The club manager was high on something and couldn't stop giggling which infuriated them even more. Responding to Kevin's orders, Howie had taken Nick back to the hotel. Alex lay in Kevin's lap, with Kevin stroking his hair and talking to him soothingly. A doctor was finally summoned and he said A.J. would be fine. Kevin stayed with him and put him to bed. He stayed all night to make sure Alex was okay.

"Was that the beginning?", the doctor asked.

"I don't want to talk about Kevin." A.J. replied.

Another flash, more recent, of Kevin's wedding. He looked so handsome. A.J. hadn't wanted to come and it took at least four drinks and two 'uppers' before he could leave his room and go. He doubted that Kevin wanted him there but they both knew the roles they were assigned to play by the all-encompessing publicity machine. Kevin kissed his bride and they headed down the aisle.

"What did you feel?", the doctor wanted to know.

"Nothing." A.J. answered.

The doctor sighed. "You know, Alex, if you are going to get better, you are going to have to deal with issues that brought you here in the first place."

"I'm here because of the booze and pills."

"No, you're here because you've been self-medicating your pain with booze and pills."

A.J. shrugged.

"Give me something Alex. You have to start somewhere."

A.J. thought about his fucked up life. He could give the doctor any one of a half-dozen traumas to start with. 'How about the no father, absent mother? How about being gay in one of the world's most successful pop bands and having to lie everyday about who you are? How about my grandmother, the only person in the world I could actually depend on, dying on me? How about having to spend possibly years, 24/7 being around the man you loved and lost? How about walking into a room and knowing that everyone there wants something out of you? How about that he felt that 'Alex' had died a while back and now only A.J. was left? That ought to keep the shrink busy for a year or two.'

Aloud, he said, "I'm not sure what you want to hear?"

The doctor checked his watch. "That's all the time for today's session. We'll see you in group this afternoon."

A.J. left. 'Group.', he thought. One of the conditions of his coming here had been to agree that he wouldn't disclose anything about the other 'Boys' to 'civilians'. As a result, he sat mute in group which left the others with the impression he was a snob. Alone again. Once he might have been able to laugh at it, but not now. The male nurse, Danny, had shown him the tape of the TRL performance the other guys put on when he checked into rehab. He thought it might 'cheer him up'. A.J. played the tape and marveled at the disingenous 'support' from his 'brothers'. Only Nick failed the compassion test, being off in his own world as usual but the others hit all the right notes. Playing their parts perfectly as always, just as he had played his. He remembered only too well the controversy when he had first wanted to go into rehab. "What about the tour?" (Nick) "What about the publicity?" (Brian) "What about the rest of us? (Howie). Only Kevin had quietly supported him, carrying the battle to management until he won. It had taken him a month to do it while AJ's condition worsened. The others finally, and, reluctantly agreed to him going. They wanted to continue the tour without him but management had nixed the idea on the grounds it wouldn't look right. So it had all been staged just the way they wanted it. When A.J. reached his room he found a huge bouquet of flowers. "Best wishes for a quick recovery" Justin, Chris, Joey, Lance, and J.C. He laughed, *NSYNC had sent flowers but nothing from Jive or the other 'Boys'. "Maybe I joined the wrong group.', he had thought wryly.

Now, A.J. laid down on his bed, sheets changed and freshly laundered. He loved fresh sheets every day, an unimaginable luxury in his childhood. He nodded off. The dream started nicely enough with Kevin and him alone on a beautiful white sand beach in Puerto Rico. They had finished three sold out shows and now they had three days off. He and Kevin planned to spend them alone together. He could almost smell the tropical air, similiar to, yet oh, so different from Florida. He could feel Kevin's lips on his mouth. The hungry, almost animalistic way they kissed was more exciting than anything he had ever experienced. Kevin's lips moved down his neck to his throat. The heat was unbearable. Alex wanted to rip off his clothes and go down on Kevin but he knew Kevin liked being in charge. Then Brian burst into the room and began screaming at them. He called them sinners and fags and threatened to tell Kevin's parents. Alex begged Kevin to stay but instead he left with Brian. A.J. suddenly awoke. Sweat poured off of him. He checked the clock. He had time for a shower before group. In the shower, he thought of Kevin again, water streaming over his perfect body and Alex there to lick it off. Now Kevin was gone and so was Alex. A.J. turned off the shower, toweled off and went to group.

"I'm A.J. and I'm an alcoholic." The others applauded. God knew why, they were just words. He didn't really believe they applied to him. He had a problem, sure, but he wasn't a burn out. He had never missed a show or session or a shoot, not even in the worst of times. He pretended to pay attention to each speaker, a trick he had learned from pretending to listen to management over the last several years. Nod and agree and do what you want anyway. He had learned the routine. He wasn't quite sure why he had fought so hard to come here. Maybe it was a last chance for Alex to try to survive. If so, A.J. wasn't sure he wanted him back.

The nights were the worst, drunk or sober. At night he could remember feeling Kevin's arms around him. Alex felt safe with Kevin. He had never been with anyone before. Well, that wasn't technically true, but it felt like the first time with Kevin. He could remember the feeling of Kevin on top of him, entering him and riding him until they both exploded. And after, when Kevin would cuddle and hold Alex and whisper to him in the night. They would whisper about plans to leave 'Backstreet' and settle down, maybe in Europe where they could be together. Alex believed everything Kevin said and he meant everything he said. Reality struck quickly though. It was Howie, double-crossing, hypocritical Howie who had blown it all skyhigh. After Ibiza, he and Kevin had been together for almost a year. They had been very discreet and careful. No one knew. Then Howie burst in on them when they were kissing. Alex knew Howie had a thing for Kevin. He also knew Howie was blowing most of the security guards on a nightly basis. Howie ran straight to Brian. Brian never said anything to Alex. Instead, Alex watched as Brian went after Kevin. He threatened to tell Kevin's family, to tell management, that Kevin would burn in hell. He pulled out all the stops. Alex tried to fight back and Kevin kept coming to his bed. It became less and less frequently as Brian kept the pressure on. Finally, Kevin told Alex that it was over. He was seeing a girl now, Kristen, someone Brian had introduced him to. Alex was devastated. Howie and Brian were triumphant and Nick was clueless, as usual.

Out of the misguided, if self-interested advice of Brian, Kevin kept his distance from Alex. "He'll heal quicker that way.", intoned Brian. A.J. first began to act out. It started simply enough, clubbing until 4 am, drinking too much, an occasional snort or pill to ease the pain. The others noticed but kept quiet. The 'Boys' were just beginning to break on the American scene and a united front was imperative. A.J. was positioned as the 'wild one' during the publicity blitz that introduced 'Backstreet' to America. A.J. took it as license to act out even more. Tattoos, facial hair, hats, clothes, shoes, he wanted to wipe out Alex and his lost relationship. Sometimes, inadvertantly, he and Kevin would end up alone somewhere. A.J. flaunted his new character in front of Kevin. He could see a flicker of pain in Kevin's eyes when he talked about his conquests or getting wasted. If that was the only reaction he could get from Kevin, he would take it.

Money and fame had proved a great salve. The money poured in like a waterfall, and every night on-stage, the love flowed from the crowds and electrified them. By now, they rarely spoke to each other unless necessary. Each 'Boy' had his own entourage who kept his ego fed and stroked. A.J. had his hanger-ons too. He usually dropped them after six months because he got tired of them. Time seemed to fly and A.J. found ignoring Kevin to be easier. Then came the announcement. Kevin was actually marrying that bitch! Okay, perhaps that was unfair. He knew Kristen wasn't that much of a bitch. Still, she was something of a bitch. She loved the reflected spotlight and wasn't capable of getting attention on her own. A.J. had never trusted her and not just because of Alex's feelings. Luckily it was a short engagement and a quick wedding. A.J. played his part and pulled it off reasonably well. It went unnoticed, except by Kevin, that he skipped the reception.

A.J. couldn't hide Alex's pain alone anymore. That's when the booze and pills went from character affectations of a good time to a serious dependency. The relative failure of their third album crushed A.J. 'Who was he, if not a star?' The escapades got wilder until one morning after pulling an all night train for the members of LFO, some part of Alex rebelled.

So he had ended up here, in this luxurious prison, to dry out and then what? When A.J. woke up, he felt slightly calmer. The pain wasn't nearly as bad and he was able to eat some toast and drink some juice. The staff was really quite considerate here and it was nice to be looked after like he was a kid. His first few days were almost unbearable. During withdrawal, Alex had cried out repeatedly for his grandmother and for Kevin but neither came. During those early days, he had told the doctor more about Kevin and his life than A.J. was comfortable with. The doctor kept prying but now A.J. was more in control and better able to protect Alex.

A.J. swaggered down the hall to his daily appointment in his best approximation of the cock of the walk style he favored in his glory days. He checked out a couple of nice asses and plopped down on the sofa.

"What's up Doc?"

The doctor checked out his patient carefully. The timing was interesting.

"You have a visitor."

"I don't want to see Denise right now.", A.J. said hastily.

"Not your mother. Kevin is here. Kevin Richardson."

A.J. froze. "Kevin?"

"Yes, we usually don't allow visitors in the first week, but it is only a day early and he has traveled some distance, so I thought it would be all right."

"Is he...Is he alone?"

"As far as I know, yes." The doctor watched his patient closely. He felt he was seeing the internal battle A.J. was fighting with Alex over seeing Kevin.

"I'm not ready to see him."

"All right. You don't have to see him. But who am I talking to?

Alex looked blank.

"Is this Alex or A.J.?", the doctor said quietly.

There was a long moment of silence. "Alex."

"Good."

"Am I crazy?", Alex whispered.

"No, but you are confused and until we are further along, perhaps it would be better not to see Mr. Richardson."

The doctor left the room briefly. Kevin Richardson waited impatiently at the reception area.

"Mr. Richardson?"

"Yes."

He was a striking looking individual. Tall, dressed in expensive black clothing, he could have been a model. Yet what most drew the doctor's attention was the strained, almost gaunt look he had. His cheekbones were too prominent, his cheeks too sunken. This was a man on the verge of his own breakdown. He looked haunted. His right hand was clutching an expensive arrangement of flowers and he was oblivious to his fist crushing the stems.

"I must see Alex."

"I'm afraid that is not possible."

"I have to see him."

"Mr. Richardson..."

"Kevin..."

"Kevin, then. Your friend is at a very delicate stage right now. You will be able to see him soon but you must have some patience."

"I could help him."

"Or you could hurt him. Look Mr...Kevin, I'm not passing judgement here. I'm only doing what is best for my patient. I think he needs to see you, but not yet. He needs time. Do you understand?"

Kevin looked bleak. "Yes. I'm not leaving though. I've checked into a hotel. Call me as soon as I can see him."

"I will. It might be weeks though."

"I don't care. I'm not leaving."

"I'll tell him you stopped by."

Kevin spun on his heel to leave, then turned again and handed the doctor the flowers. "These are for him."

"I'll make sure he gets them."

The doctor returned to his patient who had spent the time coloring in a book the doctor provided. He looked up expectantly.

"I sent him away. These are for you. He brought them."

Alex smelled them. "They're Orange Blossoms." Ibiza came back in a rush.

The doctor watched closely. "What do these flowers mean to you."

It was as if a shade came down and shut off the light.

"Nothing.", said A.J. "They're just flowers."

TBC...

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

Next: Chapter 2


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