Measure Of A Killer

It’s not easy to get anywhere near close to Nick Carter the Backstreet Boys.

The rabid fan girls would beg to differ but I’m talking about getting into his room and getting him alone and vulnerable kind.

Unless you’re a ho and willing to spread your legs and made to leave immediately after, well, then it’s easy for you.

But I’m not a whore, so.

Nick Carter the Backstreet Boy has a team of crews working for him. They’re like the vital engines to a really expensive, gorgeous looking car. The kind that would speed across the highway and everyone else couldn’t help but turn to look.

He can always rely on someone to wake him up at the required time the next day. Someone to inform and occasionally remind him of what he’s up to next. There’s someone else who would always be on hand with a rack of really nice, expensive clothes for him to chose from for the next interview, for the next meet and greet, for the next photo shoot.

You name it, he has people on his back and call.

In return, Nick does what he does best. He entertains people across the globe with his voice and persona. He gets into the studio and works hard on the next album. He is even punctual when it comes to meetings with the men in suits. Sometimes he’d do their biddings and other times, he voices out and says it as it is. He fights for the group’s rights and would defend his brothers no questions asked. He charms his ways with strangers who interview him, sometimes, if he likes them enough, he’d let them in on the real Nick Carter, the one who jokes around and exchange notes on his favourite restaurants and talks about his favourite video games.

Nick also has, what I would say, a loyal dog who is always in his constant shadows. Sometimes I really do think the fucker wouldn’t even allow Nick to go to the bathroom alone. That pain in my ass is Nick’s bodyguard.

So you see my predicament now.

Now, the other Nick Carter, the one who reappears when there are no albums to be recorded, no promotions to be had, no concerts to be performed, he is a lot easier to get access to.

He makes sure he sets the alarm on his mobile and his clock just to make sure he wakes up at the right time next day. Most days, he doesn’t even need it. Nick, I’ve found out, is a morning person. He’d wake up an hour before his alarm goes off and contrary to popular beliefs, he’d actually get up and start the day early.

He loves pancakes, but lack of cooking skills made him buy the frozen kind that just needs reheating in the oven in just two minutes. He likes a lot of maple syrup on his pancakes and would eat that with a glass of orange juice.

Nick hates working out, jogging is never something he likes doing either, but he’d always get out after breakfast and take a really long walk around his neighbourhood. He’d walk down the hill and round the little junction where a row of stores would greet him. There’s a huge supermarket there and that’s where Nick does his grocery shopping.

No, Nick doesn’t grocery shop, he often has someone to do that for him. There’s this lady whom he used to hire as his cleaner and cook when he used to own that huge damn house back in Florida. Anna was like the mother Nick never had. When she moved to L.A. she called Nick and told him that she’d take care of his crap and he doesn’t even have to pay a cent.

Of course Nick pays her, he doesn’t believe that anything in this world could ever come for free.

But sometimes, Nick would walk by the supermarket and decided he’d do his own shopping. I personally think Nick finds grocery shopping rather therapeutic. He had spent hours in there just looking at random stuff and reading the ingredients/contents/instructions for several minutes, sometimes I thought he had been staring at nothing and was lost in some other thoughts. Sometimes he’d even go as far as buying that random item, other times he’d just put it back and went on to the next thing.

It is during these walks that I find my opening.

Security was never a problem, how do you think I managed to find out all these things about him in the first place? My problem has always been witnesses. I couldn’t risk being caught or be seen anywhere near the vicinity of that boy.

But when Nick’s home and put his Backstreet Boy status on hiatus? He could go through weeks being alone.

His walks would take about an hour, two if he stops by the supermarket. That gave me ample time to mess with the car.

You might think it’s a coward’s way to do things. He’d be all alone, I could have just taken him out and no one would be none the wiser.

But I am anything but that. For one, I’m smart. Why go for homicide when it could be an accident? No harm, no foul.

All it takes is a little tear in the pipe and he wouldn’t even realize there’s a leak in the first place. And just to make sure I didn’t fuck that up, I mess with his brakes a little.

See, Nick is leaving again this afternoon for his first meeting with the boys to discuss about the new album. I have to do this today or it’d take months to get him alone again.

And the weather is perfect; heavy snowfall coming in and all. Vehicular accidents are the highest around this time.

Now you're thinking you've figured me out. You're thinking I'm the one who's going to kill Nick Carter today.

That's not it at all. You've misunderstood me. No, my end game is much bigger than that. 

No, this is only the beginning. After today, I'll be known as the man who found and saved him. You'll worship the ground I walk. You'll probably even have a huge crush on me.I'll be that trusted, constant shadow of Nick Carter. 

Now then, then i'll be invincible and the end game will come.