by Zoicite
 There was a slew of bad relationships before Howie, and AJ thought he must really know how to pick them. Donna was into S&M, and didn’t tell AJ until they’d been together for a month and AJ had walked into her bedroom to find Donna wearing leather and holding a leash in one hand. AJ was always up for new things, but it turned out that AJ was not into bondage. Nicole was a transvestite, and apparently Brian was the only one who noticed her adam’s apple from the start. He’d assumed AJ knew so he hadn’t said anything. Amanda was sweet at first until she made it pretty clear that all she wanted was an expensive wardrobe and a successful singing career. Mike was strong and reminded AJ of a bear except that he purred like a kitten when AJ stroked him just right. Mike’s temper turned out to be worse than a cat and a grizzly combined and he was more of an alcoholic than AJ ever was or would be. Sarah was perfect until she left him at the altar. AJ called her from the church lawn and was shocked to find that she was not stuck in traffic, as he’d suspected, but was at the airport, headed to Brazil. She said it was because he fucked boys, she wasn’t as okay with that as she thought she was, but Sarah had known about it from the beginning, nearly two years. They’d met while AJ was still with Mike, the angry alcoholic bear. It was an excuse, the easiest one she could think of, and AJ knew there was more. AJ, therefore, did not have much faith in relationships. Howie stood with him on the lawn of the cathedral when he made the call to Sarah. He rubbed AJ’s back when AJ told Sarah she was a lying sack of shit. He said cheating too, but he didn’t really think that Sarah had cheated on him. She wouldn’t do that. AJ had cheated on Mike with Sarah. He listened to Sarah tell him a lot of things that added up to absolutely nothing because she wasn’t there, and stared at the extravaganza set up around them. The actual ceremony was to have taken place inside, and all the guests, and the fellas, and even Sarah’s parents, they were all still in there, patiently waiting for the bride to arrive. But the bride was boarding a plane to Brazil and the lawn of the cathedral was decorated with an array of wasted flowers. AJ’s voice caught in his throat and tears probably weren’t too far off and so Howie pressed himself against AJ’s back, moved so that the entire lengths of their bodies were in contact and hugged AJ from behind. AJ sighed against Howie and said good-bye to Sarah. He told her he loved her, because he did and he was sure of it. She said, “Oh, Alex. Baby,” and AJ hung up the phone. Sarah couldn’t call him that anymore. AJ had never liked the way she said it anyway. AJ kicked at one of the flower arrangements, sending a few poor buds flying from their stems to the ground. He proceeded to stomp on them, growling a little as he dug the toes of his shiny black shoes into the soft soil. He looked at his cellphone and then threw that as well, but Howie stopped him before he could crush it beneath the soles of his feet. When AJ said, “I need a drink,” Howie just nodded. Howie knew what kind of drink AJ meant that he needed. Howie was AJ’s best man and Howie had always deserved the title. “Let’s go,” Howie said, and started walking toward the limousine that was meant to take the bride and groom away to their awaiting life of happiness and bliss. AJ watched Howie walk, his hands shoved into the pockets of his tuxedo slacks, and then AJ turned back to look at the cathedral. “Come on,” Howie called, “Sarah left them hanging. So can you.” Los Angeles was a city that AJ still wasn’t all that familiar with, though he’d technically lived there for a year and a half. AJ didn’t know many bars in LA, not anymore, but Howie did and he told the driver exactly where to go. It was a small bar, nice and just the right amount of classy, but not overly popular or crowded. It didn’t really seem to AJ like a place Howie would frequent, but Howie knew the bartender by name and he motioned AJ over to a large booth in a corner. “Nothing hard,” Howie said, “we’ll just have a few beers.” Howie ordered and AJ sat for a long time with his forehead pressed to the cold dark wood of the table. He’d thought he was done with people who fucked him over. He’d thought he’d learned that lesson among others during the rehab stint. He didn’t know what had gone wrong, but he knew that it wasn’t him fucking boys. Howie placed a hand on AJ’s shoulder and AJ sat up straight, the cracked red plastic of the booth squeaking beneath his palms. Their beers had arrived and AJ wondered how long he’d been sitting like that. Howie’s drink was already half empty. AJ picked up his beer, bringing it up to his lips and letting the amber liquid hit, but not actually taking a sip. Howie watched him, watched as AJ inhaled, closed his eyes, and then set the mug back on the table. They stared at each other for a few minutes, AJ’s hand wrapped around the base of the mug, collecting the condensation. Howie sipped his own drink, but didn’t take his eyes from AJ’s face. He was waiting, AJ knew, waiting to see what AJ did. It was a test of sorts, though Howie wouldn’t judge based on the result. Not this time. Finally, AJ sighed and tapped a passing waitress. “Excuse me,” he said when she turned to them, “may I have a Coke?” “Rum?” she asked, and AJ thought she barely looked old enough to be working there. Her eyes were smeared in black make-up, probably in an attempt to appear older, though it wasn’t working. “No, just Coke,” he smiled. “Sure thing,” she shrugged, grinning back at him and then heading toward the bar. AJ’s smile slipped off his face as soon as she was gone. AJ noticed the extra cars in the driveway before Howie did. His mother’s, Howie’s mother’s and Kevin’s, all lined up, all black. Sarah’s parents’ car was absent and he thought that was probably a good thing. “My mom is here,” Howie blurted out, surprised, but not until the limo had already left and he was standing beside her modest Passat. AJ smiled at him and nodded. He’d expected it, that they’d be waiting. AJ had a pretty reliable support group, and this time was no exception. His mother hugged him as soon as they walked in the door, hugged him so tight he could hardly breathe. She hugged Howie too and Howie squeaked, “Denise,” in protest. AJ heard clanking in the kitchen, he turned to look, Sarah instantly flashing through his mind, but Denise said, “Paula and Brian. Making tea.” Howie started heading that way, toward the kitchen to see his mother, but Kevin stopped him on the way to the door. Denise was hugging AJ again, and Nick had his hand on AJ’s arm and looked like he was waiting his turn. They were quiet so AJ could clearly hear Kevin as he frowned and said, “Have you been drinking?” “I have, yes,” Howie replied. Kevin took a step back, still frowning, but AJ couldn’t hear what he said next because Denise had released him and Nick was saying, “AJ, AJ, come here,” pulling him into another hug and adding, “AJ, love you, bro.” When Nick finally released AJ it was only to pull him into the living room so that he could sit beside him on the sofa. Denise sat on his other side, and then the others were there too, all looking concerned, and carrying cups of steaming tea. AJ wasn’t sure he liked this. He wasn’t supposed to like it, he knew, his fiancee had just left him, but it felt a lot like an intervention or something and AJ had had enough of those. “I’m fine, guys,” he said, patting both his mother’s and Nick’s knees as he said it. “Really, I am. And Sarah’s in Brazil, did you know? And, no Kevin, before you ask I haven’t been drinking.” Kevin held up his hands as an indication that he’d never planned to ask such a question. “We know, honey,” Denise said, “Sarah called her parents while we were all still at the church. She thought you’d have told everyone, but we couldn’t find you, so Kevin broke the news. We were so worried.” “I was with Howie,” AJ said, and he couldn’t quite keep the defensive tone out of his voice. They hadn’t accused him of anything, but he’d thought it and he would have done it if Howie hadn’t been there, so he couldn’t really blame them if they’d thought it too. “We figured that much out,” Kevin said, “we were able to follow the trail of crushed flowers to the road and from there guessed that you two used the limo as your getaway car.” Kevin was trying to lighten things up a little, but it wasn’t really working. Brian rolled his eyes and elbowed Kevin and AJ smiled. Nick was the only one who really thought it was funny, but even he held in his laughter. Howie guided AJ into bed first, climbing in next to him and positioning them so that AJ was in the middle. Kevin got in and settled on the other side of AJ, Nick behind him. Brian stood at the end of the bed, watching them all, or perhaps trying to figure out where there was room, where he fit best in the picture before him, and then he too crawled into the bed, starting at the bottom and ending up curled beside Howie. They’d only done this three times before, once after Brian’s heart surgery, once when Howie’s sister died, and once when AJ returned from rehab. Not that they never slept together, they did, but usually it was out of necessity and lack of space, rather than the need for emotional connection and unity. The Backstreet Boys were competent as individuals. They didn’t need to be around one another all the time. It had been that way in the beginning when they were just becoming good friends, when they were stuck in foreign countries for years at a time, and once they were set free they didn’t know what to do when apart. They were inseparable. But since then they had learned that they could have their own lives too, they could love each other and make music together and still make time for girlfriends and wives and businesses. And so they didn’t rent apartments together any longer, they didn’t even live in the same cities, or often the same states. There’d been weddings and funerals, pregnancies and soon-to-be births, solo albums and hiatus’s, but when something major happened, when one of them was really hurting, they reverted back to those years in Europe, when they were alone and their only lifelines were each other. They flocked and they joined and AJ never felt so whole as when they were together, when they really needed one another. Backstreet against the world, AJ thought, and he knew that they would never be so strong apart. It had been hard for AJ, realizing that they could have two lives, that they could be Backstreet Boys and still be themselves as well. He called it separation anxiety, and he knew that Nick suffered from it too. AJ forgot that despite physical separation, they were there, that they’d be there no matter what, even forgot sometimes that they cared. AJ knew now though, knew that he would never be alone as long as he had the fellas, and with them he didn’t need clubs, he didn’t need drinks, he didn’t even need sunglasses. With them AJ could get through anything. Nick was already snoring gently and AJ felt Howie sigh behind him. Kevin was awake, AJ knew, and probably Brian too. Brian usually took the longest to fall asleep. AJ wrapped an arm around Kevin, fisting his hand in Kevin’s thin shirt. How many times had he fallen asleep just like this with Sarah? Too many to count, AJ thought, but he couldn’t dwell on it then. He couldn’t let himself. AJ didn’t understand and she wasn’t ready to explain. Kevin’s hand covered his then, squeezing, reassuring, comforting. With them AJ could get through anything, and so AJ would get through this. AJ woke up thinking, as any good fiancé would, that he was wrapped around his future wife. He smelled bacon in the air and heard talking, and moaning a little, he moved closer to Sarah, nuzzling her hair and getting really comfortable. He felt warm breath on the back of his neck, and figuring it was JD or Vegas, swatted them gently away. It wasn’t until his dog muttered “fuck you too,” that AJ remembered that Sarah was in Brazil, his dogs with his mother, and that he was wrapped around Howie with Kevin’s nose against his neck. He jumped a little at the realization, suddenly very awake, and Howie tried to pull him closer in his sleep, calm him down. AJ could hear Brian and Nick downstairs, bickering as they tried to make breakfast. No doubt, Brian, who not only fell asleep last, but also was usually the first one up, had pulled Nick out of bed because he was the only other person on the outer edge. Nick usually opted to sleep in the middle of the bed for that very reason. AJ carefully pried himself lose and edged off the end of the bed, careful not to cause too much movement that might wake Kevin or Howie. He sat there for a moment, his toes curling into the carpet, and stared at Sarah’s empty closet, the only thing left a shiny black button-down with ruffles at the cuffs that AJ thought looked like one of his. “Good morning,” Brian said cheerily when AJ shuffled into the kitchen. Nick grunted a greeting, not looking up from the eggs he was stirring. “’Morning,” AJ replied, because he didn’t think that it was particularly good at all. He walked over to the phone on the counter near the window, checking the message light, but it wasn’t blinking. “It’s a bit cloudy to be wearing sunglasses this early,” Brian commented. There was a time when AJ always wore sunglasses in the morning, and no one even thought to comment on it. AJ was on the patio staring at his cell phone when Howie found him. “Nothing?” Howie asked. “Nothing,” AJ confirmed. He’d been staring at the phone most of the morning, and when he wasn’t staring at the phone he was double checking the answering machine, just in case. “Her closet was empty.” “I know,” Howie said. “You don’t think that she’d been planning it, do you? You don’t think she had the plane tickets weeks ago? Had movers all set up to stop by yesterday?” “Do you think she’d do something like that?” “Most of her stuff is gone,” AJ shrugged, then shook his head and said, “No.” Sarah wasn’t like that. If she’d known beforehand she would have told him. She’d asked, made him promise that if he ever had any doubts, if he ever thought that maybe she wasn’t the one, he’d promised he would tell her. He hadn’t made her promise, but he’d assumed it went both ways. “Where was the honeymoon again?” Howie asked when AJ brought it up a few days later. Howie never remembered the trivial things. He knew AJ, he knew them all better than anyone that wasn’t a Backstreet Boy did, sometimes it seemed like Howie knew them better than they knew themselves. But Howie wasn’t always good with the little facts. He knew that AJ wouldn’t give in that night at the bar, but he probably couldn’t remember the names of AJ’s dogs if asked. AJ snorted, “Well, it certainly wasn’t in fucking Brazil.” AJ found a box of her things in one of the linen closets upstairs. It hadn’t been opened since they moved, he was pretty sure, and the box was coated in a thin layer of dust. He opened it, sneezing a little and having to stop to pull the damn thing out of the stuffy closet. Inside were curtains and a blanket that he remembered seeing in her apartment in Orlando before they moved in together. Sarah was never very organized and the box also contained an ugly pair of shoes and some old T-shirts that still smelled a little like Sarah when AJ put them to his nose. He shoved the contents back inside, standing beside the box and staring down at it. He kicked it, and watched it skid into the wall. “Damn it,” AJ said, “Fuck,” and it felt good so AJ kicked it again, denting the side, and then he turned and kicked it against the opposite wall. Dust flew off the top, creating a little cloud in the hallway, but AJ ignored it, punting the box hard enough that it jumped off the floor and skidded down the smooth hard wood toward the north side of the house. He picked it up and threw it back down toward the closet, making sure that it hit the wall on the way, and then he too hit the wall for good measure. Not hard, just enough and with his open palm that it made a lot of loud satisfying noise, which he accompanied with every curse he could think of, and then some. Kevin walked up the stairs then, carrying a pile of folded towels and AJ growled at him before kicking the box again, and this time his toe went through the side of the cardboard and one of the T-shirts bounced out and landed on the floor. Kevin frowned and raised an eyebrow and AJ threw up his hands, looking down at himself. “What?” he demanded. “You know, you’re really not showing as much anger as I thought you might,” Kevin smirked, continuing into the bathroom. “Fuck you,” AJ said, shoving the shirt back in the box and hauling it downstairs. “AJ,” Howie said, following AJ as he kicked the box out the back door, abandoning it on the patio as he continued toward the pool house. AJ ignored Howie and kicked open the door, moving toward the back of the small house that also doubled as a yard shed. Flicking on the overhead light, he rummaged through hoses and hedge clippers and chipped garden gnomes until he found what he’d gone in for. Howie was looking in the box when AJ came back outside carrying the lighter fluid. He picked up one of the shirts and held it up for AJ. “AJ,” he said, eyeing the plastic jug in AJ’s hand, “Some of this would look good on you.” “Don’t want it,” AJ said, taking it from Howie and throwing it back in the box. He dragged the box by one of the top flaps to the center of the cement, ripping the flap off when he got there. “AJ,” Howie said again, his voice wary. “Stand back.” AJ dumped the entire remnants of the lighter fluid on the pile, tossing the empty jug aside. There wasn’t much left, but it was plenty. “Shit,” Howie said when AJ pulled his lighter from his back pocket, “Be careful with that.” AJ ignored Howie. Instead he carefully held the cardboard flap to the flame until it was burning and smoking nicely. He tossed it onto the pile and jumped back quickly when the entire thing burst into a bright orange fireball, sending black smoke billowing into the late afternoon sky. He edged around it, moving to stand beside Howie. When Howie looked at him he grinned, and Howie smiled back a little, rubbing a hand down AJ’s back. It burned for nearly an hour and they stood like that, AJ with his hands crossed tightly over his chest and Howie with one hand in his pocket, the other moving in small circles on the small of AJ’s back. They stood that way until the fire died down and the sun was starting to slip over the horizon. Kevin came out, worried when he saw the flames from the initial burst light up the second story windows, but went back inside shortly afterward cracking jokes about marshmallows and singing Kumbaya. Brian and Nick returned from their day at the beach and they stood around the fading fire too, golden and sandy. But in the end only Howie was left on the patio with AJ, sniffling at the smell of burning fabric. “Feel better?” Howie asked finally when AJ sighed and closed his eyes. “Not really,” AJ admitted. When Howie didn’t say anything else AJ said, “I’m done with it. All of it,” and Howie nodded. AJ loved too easily. He thought that was the problem. He loved too easily and so he always got hurt. He tried to make barriers but he ended up knocking them down and letting people in. He was done with it. Sunglasses on, tattoos exposed, done. No one else was getting in. His family, his boys, and very few others. It was too hard to tell, he was too open and he thought perhaps not the best judge of character. AJ already had his support group, and it was closed to the public. It wasn’t worth the risk. Nick was watching television when AJ sat next to him and gripped his knee, shaking a little. “Single for life,” AJ said, “you and me, kid.” “Hey,” Nick protested, turning down the volume on the cartoon he was trying to watch, “who says I’m going to be single for life?” “Fine. I didn’t want your company anyway.” AJ pretended to be offended, scooting down toward the opposite end of the couch and holding up his hands. “Shut up,” Nick said, “You won’t be either.” “I’m done,” AJ insisted, “I can’t even remember the last relationship I had that didn’t end in catastrophe and heartbreak. Every one I think is better than the last and then it takes the cake in incredible horrendous-ness,” AJ paused, then added, “I don’t know what can possibly top this though. My next partner will probably just murder me in my sleep and then it’ll be over.” Nick stared at AJ for a moment, then rolled his eyes and said, “You’re so dramatic all the time.” “Hey,” AJ moved closer and poked Nick again, “you see how you feel when your fiancée runs away to South America on your wedding day.” “Well, whatever,” Nick said, dismissing AJ’s melodrama with a wave of his hand, “I remember the last relationship you had that was good.” “Oh, you do, do you?” “Yeah, I do.” “You’d better not say Nicole.” Nick laughed. “Nope. Howie.” There were five bad relationships after Howie. He’d been AJ’s first boyfriend, and also the first relationship that AJ classified as serious. It had started in Europe, at the tail end during a drunken celebration, because finally, finally they were going home. “We’re gonna be big,” Brian had said, bringing up his beer for a toast, the dark liquid sloshing over the side onto his hand. They’d all cheered and laughed, and even Nick was drinking with them that night. “Big,” AJ had repeated, and he couldn’t get the grin to leave his face. It was what they’d wanted for two years. Kevin pushed AJ a little, already pretty drunk, and said, “Not big. Huge.” They were going home. “Guys,” Howie said later, when they were past the pretty drunk stage, “I think that if we’re going to be, you know, huge, and stuff like that. If we are, then you should probably know that I’m gay.” “We do know, D.,” Brian had said and Kevin nodded, but AJ hadn’t known. AJ’d had no idea and he thought that that wasn’t fair, because he’d known Howie better and longer than Brian had. AJ contained his shock well and only Nick looked a little surprised at the news, but he grinned and hugged Howie anyway and told them all about his cousin that was gay and lived in New York State and worked at a restaurant in Buffalo. Later AJ had kissed Howie and after a halfhearted protest, Howie had kissed back. And when they did go home and they did start to make it big, AJ and Howie clung to one another, slept in the same bunk, and snuck into each others’ hotel rooms when one of them had the single. Usually Kevin got it, because he was the oldest, and also was a bit bossy, but that was fine too because then Howie and AJ were naturally paired off. It lasted two years, at least, and Howie was AJ’s first boyfriend, his first serious lover, his first “I love you.” Looking back, AJ couldn’t really remember how or why it ended. There wasn’t a definitive end, they’d just sort of phased out. They all started getting their own hotel rooms and they were overworked and busy and tired, so they stopped sneaking in to see each other and soon Howie was dating a flamboyant man-boy named Lewis and AJ had met Donna, the dominatrix, and neither of them had looked back. “Hey,” Brian said, walking into AJ’s room where he lay with a pillow over his head. “Rok,” AJ replied, his voice muffled and he lifted a hand in a small wave. “You okay?” Brian asked, and AJ could hear him moving and assumed he was standing beside the bed. He removed the pillow from his head. “Yeah, I’m fine,” AJ said, because he was. As fine as could be expected with a fiancée in Brazil and a lifetime of loneliness to look forward to. Brian probably thought he was in his room sobbing over his lost love. AJ wasn’t. He’d been thinking about music and Brazilian heat and the few shows on Nick’s small tour that AJ’d performed at. “What’s up?” “I just got off the phone with Leigh,” Brian started, climbing on the bed with AJ and pausing to kick off his shoes. Brian would never dream of climbing into someone else’s bed with shoes on. AJ wouldn’t think twice about it. “She calling you back to those old hills of Georgia?” Brian nodded. Leigh Anne found out she was pregnant in September. It was a boy, but Brian and Leigh Anne had failed to settle on a name so far, and until they did he’d been designated Backstreet baby. They still had three months to find something more suitable, and Nick was adamant in his quest that the baby be named after him. AJ found himself acting increasingly protective of Leigh Anne once she started to show, and he noticed it in the others too. Howie and Nick, especially, catered to Leigh Anne’s every whim. It really was a Backstreet baby, their first born, and they loved him already. “Go. You’ve already been away too long. Go take care of our baby. And his mother too,” AJ grinned. He was surprised that Brian had stayed so long. Leigh Anne had made it out to LA for the wedding, but she’d flown back right afterward. Her parents were in Georgia, and she felt safer and healthier when in close proximity to her mother. Brian had planned to fly back with her, but had stayed for AJ’s sake. AJ found Brian’s presence grounding, and he was grateful and touched that Brian was there. They held a pool party as a going away bash in Brian’s honor, by invite only, and the only guests invited happened to be Backstreet Boys. LA was exceptionally warm and dry for February, and the party was more an excuse to hang out in the pool than anything else. Brian spent the entire morning in the kitchen making little fancy snack things. AJ tried to tell him that he wasn’t allowed to do work for a party in honor of him, but Brian just shrugged and employed AJ in cutting toast points. “Toast points?” Nick asked, scrunching up his nose and poking at the salmon and caper mix on the counter. Then he looked at AJ and covered his mouth with his fist, letting out a loud cough that sounded remarkably like he was saying, “gay.” Nick constantly made fun of Brian’s newfound love of cooking. It had only surfaced within the last year, and Brian swore that he hadn’t taken any classes. AJ wasn’t sure if he believed that because he remembered what Brian’s meals had been like before. Leigh Anne had confided in Kevin, who’d told AJ, that Brian had purchased a new computer with high speed internet access specifically so that he could search the web for recipes, and also that he’d been ordering fancy cooking knives and other cookware from the home shopping network. She was increasingly proud of her husband’s new talent, and Brian grinned when she bragged about, his eyes crinkling happily. He rubbed her stomach and exclaimed that he had “a new little mouth to feed.” Later, equipped with salmon toast points, homemade salsa, and little marinated strips of steak and shrimp on sticks, they lounged by the pool, talking and laughing, and AJ was mostly able to forget that his life had fallen apart seven days before. The mess from AJ’s fire had been swept up, but a large black scar remained on the tan bricks. Kevin had rearranged AJ’s patio furniture, moving the table over the spot. The base for the table’s umbrella covered most of the burnt area, but the tabletop was glass, and the ugly black stains were still mostly visible beneath. AJ swam until his fingers shriveled up, and his feet were giant prunes. He wrestled with Howie and tackled Nick, and when they weren’t trying to drown one another, AJ had Brian attached to him like a leech. Brian was not publicly affectionate. AJ learned that early on. Brian was almost standoffish during interviews, friendly and open, but not what anyone would define as touchy. In private, with just the five of them and no cameras, Brian was exactly the opposite. He was the first to provide hugs, he was a cheek kisser and a snuggler, and so much so that he gave Nick a run for his money. Now Brian acted as though he wasn’t going to see them all in a month and he made the rounds, hugging and petting, sitting pressed up against them and talking softly about how much he’d miss them all in his melodic Kentucky way. “Brian was really something else today,” Howie commented when AJ climbed into bed and snuggled up beside him. They had all moved to their respective guest rooms after that first night, but there had been a few since that AJ had opted to sleep with Howie rather than in his huge empty bed. Howie hadn’t minded, had welcomed AJ in with open arms. Howie was AJ’s best man, and Howie deserved the title. “Are we sure he’s not heading into exile for the next year or something?” AJ joked, running a hand over Howie’s chest and yawning. They’d all gone with Brian to the airport, Kevin driving and Nick in the front seat because they took up the most room. They’d waved and waited in the reserved lounge until the plane was off the ground and then Kevin had driven them back to AJ’s. The car ride home was quiet, and it was obvious that they were missing a piece of the puzzle. Kevin and Nick left a few days later. They didn’t head back to Florida, just across the city to Kevin’s large house in the hills. Kristen was flying in and Kevin was eager to see her. Nick would most likely stay with Kevin for the rest of the month, disorganizing Kevin’s things and eating his food. “Should I go too?” Howie asked. “Are you ready to do the alone thing?” “You could stay if you want,” AJ shrugged, not ready to have the house to himself, but not really wanting to admit it either. Howie stayed. The Backstreet Boys follow up album to Black and Blue was not scheduled for release for a month and a half. They found that they weren’t ready for the fall date they’d originally planned on and the album was repeatedly pushed back. AJ felt pretty confident about the newly planned April release. He felt pretty proud and confident about the album in general. It was raw, it was new, and AJ thought they’d succeeded in distancing themselves from what was expected of them, actually pushed the proverbial envelope instead of simply claiming they had. The first single had already hit the airwaves, though they had yet to make a video, and despite a lack of publicity, it was doing rather well on the charts. Nick’s solo album had been a moderate success. It didn’t do nearly as well as Justin Timberlake’s endeavor, which was released three weeks after Nick’s, but sales were high and the material was good. It was a solid first effort on Nick’s part and Nick, though sort of disappointed that he’d forever be compared to Justin, was just happy that he got to play the drums and sing music that he really loved, that he’d written. AJ thought they all worried about Nick a little more than they needed to, Kevin especially, but Nick always managed to surprise them. He embarked on a short tour, hitting most major cities throughout December and part of January. Nick put together a band with the help of Kevin and his management and then hit the road. It was refreshing for Nick, AJ knew, doing an entire show behind a drum set. And it was pretty different too, AJ could think of few lead singers that were drummers as well. AJ had hit some venues with Nick at the close of the year and all of the boys had done at least one of Nick’s shows. Despite several visits from each of them, Nick called them all regularly, complaining about loneliness and boredom. They’d all gone to Nick’s last show in Tampa and he clung to them afterward, not letting any of them out of his site during the duration of the after party. AJ was fairly certain that Nick wouldn’t be planning any more solo tours for quite some time. Watching Nick discover the wonders of going solo, AJ yearned a little to work on some of his own stuff, but he was busy planning a wedding so most of it was pushed to the back burner. AJ didn’t really have to worry about weddings anymore. He didn’t have to worry about a wife or a fiancée either, and he found himself once again thinking about Nick’s solo stint, and planning when he could perhaps do one of his own. “I’m thinking of going the Nick route,” AJ said to Howie six days after Brian had flown to Atlanta and four since Kevin and Nick moved out. Howie was lying in a lawn chair beneath the large tree in AJ’s back yard. He was reading some novel that he’d picked up at the grocery store and he stuck his finger on his place when AJ sat in the chair beside him. “The Nick route?” Howie asked, looking up and squinting in the sun. “Yeah,” AJ said, “like start working on a solo album.” “That sounds like a good plan. You have a lot of song material built up, I’d say.” Howie closed his book and turned to give AJ his full attention. “Right, and I even have a working title picked out. How do you think an album called ‘Fucking Brazil’ would sell?” “Depends on if you ever want to be allowed in Rio again.” “Mm, right,” AJ mused, rubbing his fingers over his chin, “maybe the title needs a little work.” “Maybe you should write the album before you name it,” Howie suggested. “Brilliant idea, D,” AJ said, climbing out of the chair with a groan and patting Howie’s stomach affectionately over his shirt before heading inside to dig up his favorite notebook. “I haven’t flown solo in years,” AJ told Howie over take-out Chinese. “It’s loads of fun, lemme tell ya,” Howie grinned, twirling his fork in his lo-mein. “It’d better be,” AJ said, “because I’m done with the rest of that crap.” Howie frowned. “AJ,” he started, and AJ knew he was going to get a lecture about life and love and not giving up, all done in romanticizing Howie D. fashion. But Howie only got as far as “you can’t let,” and then the phone rang and AJ dashed to the kitchen to answer it. He glanced at the caller ID and then froze, his hand on the receiver, but not able to pick it up until Howie asked if he was planning on answering it from the other room. “Sarah,” AJ said, “I didn’t expect - . I thought maybe you’d gotten a new phone.” “I did,” she replied, and AJ thought she had never sounded farther away, “but I didn’t think you’d answer, so I kept this one until I was ready to call.” “It’s been three weeks,” AJ said. He’d stopped watching the phone a week ago at least. “I know, AJ,” Sarah sighed and AJ was positive that he hated her then, “I wasn’t ready.” “I hate you right now,” AJ whispered, low so Howie couldn’t hear, “I just think you should know.” Sarah laughed, “AJ you hate all of your exes. Almost all of them.” “You know I’m going to ask why.” “Sweetie,” Sarah sighed. “Don’t.” “It wouldn’t have been right. I couldn’t.” AJ moved the phone away from his ear and stared at it in disbelief. Howie shuffled around in the other room and AJ knew that he could hear, but AJ was past caring. AJ wanted to shout. He wanted to scream at her, because it was three weeks later and she was saying different things, but it still wasn’t making sense. They were in love. They were, and they were getting married and it was what they were supposed to do and there was nothing more right than that. “It would have been a lie.” She’d promised she wouldn’t lie. If they fell out of love, they’d promised they would tell, not run off to foreign countries without saying hardly a word. “Geez, Sarah,” AJ said. “No, AJ, calm down,” Sarah said, and AJ hadn’t even realized how tightly he was holding the phone until she said it. “Are they there? They are, right?” “Who?” AJ asked, though he knew. Of course he knew, so he added, “No.” “But they were.” “Yes,” AJ said, annoyance in the tone, “Listen.” “And Howie’s still there.” AJ blinked. “Yes,” he said, “I don’t see why –“ “Good,” Sarah sighed, and AJ thought it was the most infuriating conversation he’d ever had in his entire life. “Howie’s good like that. Hey, listen sweetie. I’ve gotta go.” “Wait, what? No, hey,” AJ stumbled, but she’d already hung up so AJ cursed and slammed the phone back on the receiver. It hit hard and bounced back off, hanging over the edge of the table. “I burned your fucking ugly curtains,” AJ told the phone. He kicked the legs of the desk and then stomped up the stairs, ignoring Howie when he called after him. AJ had wanted to be alone when it finally hit. He thought he could save it, even after the phone call. He slammed himself in the bathroom like he did when he was twelve and avoiding chores, but he was able to hold it back then. And he’d let Howie in when he knocked. Howie had known it was Sarah of course, so he didn’t ask, he didn’t say anything. He sat on the edge of the bathtub instead, right across from where AJ was perched on the closed toilet seat with his head in his hands. When AJ looked up he thought Howie’s eyes looked wet, they were so brown. He tried to say that he was fine. Nothing had changed, and he was still fine. He would be fine, but his voice caught in his throat and he pulled Howie toward him instead. Howie let himself be pulled, standing up from the tub’s edge. He stood in front of AJ, reached out and touched AJ’s face, and it was nice, but not what AJ wanted, so he kept pulling until Howie moved easily into his lap. “AJ,” Howie whispered, resting his head against AJ’s chest, his short hair brushing AJ’s cheek. “I love you. We all love you.” AJ knew. It was the one thing he didn’t doubt, but he needed to be reminded that some love was unconditional, that their love was unconditional. He closed his eyes, resting his head against Howie’s and they sat like that for awhile, neither of them saying anything. “She shouldn’t have called,” AJ said finally. Howie sighed against AJ’s neck and suggested that they call it a night. It couldn’t be later than nine, but AJ agreed, following Howie into his guest room. He waited in the dark, waited until he felt Howie’s breath even out against him, and then he cried. He cried for himself and he cried for Sarah. He must have been shaking a little because Howie woke up and surrounded AJ in an embrace, kissing his forehead and his cheek and his lips, and AJ cried and felt a little like an idiot, because he didn’t want Sarah back. He didn’t want someone that didn’t love him, that would flee the country rather than marry him. AJ had burned her things and swore that he’d never do any of it again. No one else was getting in. He had his support group, and he had his best man, and he had his brothers and he didn’t need anyone else. But swearing it and meaning it and believing it couldn’t stop him from missing her. It couldn’t stop him from hating her, and so he cried and Howie showered him in kisses until he fell asleep. Howie was mediocre at pool, a pretty talented bowler, and satisfactory when it came to darts. So AJ couldn’t quite understand how Howie could suck so horribly at horseshoes. “Fuck, D,” he said as the horseshoe went flying up into the air, landing just short of the box at the other end. “What the fuck are you doing?” Howie shrugged and smiled sheepishly, stepping aside for AJ’s turn. AJ scrunched his nose, pushed his glasses back up to where they belonged. He’d abandoned the sunglasses at home mostly, but had started wearing them again after his little breakdown. He needed the protection. Howie hadn’t said anything about the crying episode, and AJ knew that Howie would never, but he’d still expected something. AJ aimed, threw his horseshoe and heard the satisfying clink of metal against metal. “I think I just don’t let go soon enough,” Howie said, and AJ nodded, following Howie as he went to collect his horseshoes. AJ knew that that was Howie’s problem, but even though Howie had figured it out he still held on too long during the next round, laughing a little when the horseshoe went flying. “Nick’s probably better at this game than you are,” AJ commented. Nick decidedly sucked at horseshoes. “Speaking of,” Howie said, “Kevin called. He wants to know if you’ll be ready to shoot the video next week.” “Of course,” AJ nodded. He wouldn’t think of stalling the video shoot. Especially not the first video for the first single off their unreleased album. There was no way. AJ was looking forward to it, in fact. Brian would be back and video shoots were always an adventure, but the main thing was that AJ needed to be busy. He needed to do things to keep his mind off the things that he didn’t want or need to be thinking about. He’d always been that way and it was why he did the Johnny No Name thing, why he’d already written six songs for his future solo album, though probably only one of them would make the final cut. AJ was counting the days until the end of April. The album release meant television appearances and publicity and eventually a tour and it would be right back into the swing of things. It had been too long. Howie poked AJ in the back with the end of his horseshoe, indicating that it was AJ’s turn. AJ swung around and grabbed the end of Howie’s horseshoe, yanking hard. Howie’s grip was tight though, so instead of letting go, he went with it, falling into AJ. AJ snorted and wrapped an arm around Howie’s waist. “That’s what you get when you don’t let go,” he said, helping Howie stand upright. Howie laughed and pushed him a little, finally handing over the horseshoe. AJ aimed and threw. AJ gave up trying to sleep alone sometime after Sarah called. His empty bed provided too much time to think, and thinking was the last thing that AJ wanted to do. So every night he said goodnight to Howie in the hallway, walked into his own room and stripped down to his boxers. He paused for a moment, looked around his room, eyed the empty closet with his black shirt still in it, and then slipped back down the hall and in between the sheets that Howie held open for him. He found that the guest beds weren’t nearly as comfortable as his own, so as soon as AJ realized he wasn’t going to be sleeping without Howie in the near future, he started pulling Howie into his own room. Howie protested for about half a second, but then settled right in, curling around AJ and sighing happily. “How long are you going to stay,” AJ asked after a few moments. The light was still on, so he climbed half over Howie, reaching to flip the switch by the bed. He felt Howie’s breath against his chest. “As long as you want me to,” Howie said. They lapsed back into silence and Howie’s breathing was just starting to even out when AJ said, “I hate all my exes.” “I know,” Howie mumbled. “Except for you,” AJ added. “Thank goodness for that. It’d make singing together every day pretty difficult, I think.” “All of the relationships I had before you tore me apart, chewed me up, and spit me out, leaving me to try to put back the pieces. And then after it was the same. But not you.” AJ knew that if Nick were there he would have rolled his eyes, said something about AJ’s flair for the dramatic, but Nick was across town and Howie just said, “No, never.” “Why’d we split?” AJ asked. He’d tried, but AJ couldn’t remember the split. Couldn’t remember when the decision was made. Years had passed and AJ thought he could only remember one or two occasion where the relationship was even brought up between them. Usually only in regard to events of the past, rather than the relationship as a whole. “We were young,” Howie said, rolling slightly so that he could look at AJ in the darkness of the bedroom. AJ snorted. “Fine. You were young, and I wasn’t so young, but we were getting pretty serious and I don’t think either of us were ready then.” Howie was young too. That didn’t make the reasons any more meaningful. The lights over the patio shown through the window in AJ’s room, a patch of color across the pale carpet, a thin line cutting the room that landed perfectly on the open closet. The black shirt was there still. The ruffles on the cuffs looked almost like hands emerging from the sleeves. “I don’t think that’s my shirt,” AJ whispered, as though the shirt would hear if he said it too loud. Howie sat up, propped himself on his elbows and blinked at the closet, at the shirt with the hands still attached. AJ watched the dark outline of Howie’s shoulder as he shrugged a little, and then Howie threw back the covers, slid out of bed. AJ watched him, put his hand in the warm spot that Howie left behind. A bathroom run, he assumed, but Howie padded across the room, his feet shuffling audibly against the rug. He stopped in front of the shirt and AJ sat up to get a clearer view. Howie shut the closet door. The patch of light from the patio fell on the dark wood, glinting off the doorknob, but then Howie was pulling the curtains too, and the closet fell into shadow. “We’re pretty fucking stupid, you and I,” AJ said after Howie was back in bed. AJ closed his eyes, but he could feel Howie watching him, and then Howie kissed him chastely, kissed the corner of his mouth, and then AJ’s eyelids. Sarah was in Brazil, Kevin and Nick were in the hills, and Brian was in Georgia, but Howie was there, even though AJ couldn’t always see him. “Yeah, we are,” Howie agreed. |