~*~AJ’s point of view~*~

I was sitting at the studio’s piano, testing some chords. I wasn’t a great piano player by any means, but I wasn’t half bad, either. I’d had a melody in my head for a few weeks now. It hadn’t amounted to much yet, but I was hoping it would. It was catchy. With the right instrumentation, it was slightly R&B. More like our older sound than the songs on Never Gone.

“What are you playing?” Howie came in.

“Not sure yet,” I shrugged. “We’ll see.”

We already had a dozen or two songs recorded. They ranged as far as music style went. We were now starting the process of narrowing them down.

“You know Inconsolable?” Howie asked.

“What about it?”

“That’s what they’re pushing for the first single.”

“Pushing who? Us?”

Howie nodded. “They said it’s the kind of song that’s worked for us in the past.”

“Well… yeah,” I began. It was a good song. And it did fit the “Backstreet sound.” That wasn’t the only thing to consider, though. “But the music scene has changed a lot since then. It only makes sense that we need to, too.”

“I don’t know. Better safe than sorry.”

“But we have some good uptempos,” I argued.

Nick came in and made a disgruntled sound. “Do you think that matters to the record company? They want adult contemporary from us.”

“That’s crap,” I muttered, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. I was getting agitated.

“Yeah, but it’s true,” Nick said.

“Well, our fans are growing up…” Howie was trying to defend the record company.

“How old do you think they are? They’ve gone from twelve to forty in less than a decade?” Nick asked, sarcastically.

Howie didn’t answer.

“Jeez, someone die in here?” Brian walked in, sensing the tension. “We going to finish writing this song or what?” he continued when no one answered.

We agreed, though unenthusiastically. We’d be flying back to Orlando tomorrow. We’d gotten a lot done, but there were still issues that were going to need to be sorted out before we finished the album. Our defining sound was one. And it felt like Kevin was hanging over us still. I’d really noticed his absence this weekend.

“AJ wrote some more for the second verse,” Howie handed Brian the sheet of paper we’d been scribbling lyrics on.

“How come I was the last to know?” Brian sang, laughing. He read them over. “Not bad. Let’s see how it sounds.”

He grabbed a guitar and we went through what we’d gotten. An hour later, we had most of the song worked out. Some of our producers listened to it and approved. I really hoped this one made it onto the album. I wanted this CD to showcase our songwriting talents.

“I’m getting together with JC next week,” I mentioned to Brian, as we walked into the hotel lobby that night.

He opened his mouth in shock. “Fraternizing with the enemy! He’s going to sabotage our sound. Try to make the song come out like an N’SYNC one…”

I shoved him, laughing. “No, it’s totally original. Nothing like their old sound. We’re thinking about naming the song Hello, Hello, Hello.”

He started singing, “Hey, hey. Hi, hi, hi.”

“Oh,” I laughed at myself. “Yeah, that was more clever.”

“I am the funny one,” he grinned widely. “And it’s cleverer.”

Rolling my eyes, I looked at my watch as we got on the elevator. “This day has gone by pretty quickly.”

“This summer is, too,” Brian said. Then, he seemed to remember something. “Oh, man.”

“What?”

“My anniversary’s coming up. Good thing I remembered…” he said, mostly to himself. “I’ve been so into the music lately, I haven’t thought about much else. I’m just ready to get back out there. To prove that we can do it with four people. That we don’t need Kevin.”

“Ouch.”

“It was his choice to leave the group,” Brian pointed out.

“So,” I said, glad he and I were finally having this conversation privately, “you agree with Nick on all things Kevin?”

Brian paused, thinking. “I wouldn’t put it that simply. But I guess I relate to him more than to you and Howie.”

“He might come back, you know. Someday.”

Brian shook his head. “I don’t think so. I mean, you never know. But he was pretty adamant.”

“You sound mad at him.”

“Disappointed,” Brian said. “Think about all the work we’ve put into making this group what it is today. Remember trying to earn the market’s respect in the beginning? I mean, it’s been tough. And here we are trying to prove that we’re still relevant, and he gives up.”

“I wouldn’t say that he’s given up,” I said.

“That’s not how he put it,” Brian assented, “but that’s what he thinks. I still care about being a Backstreet Boy. If he doesn’t, then I’m not going to worry about him.”

“He kept us together,” I argued. But I realized that I hadn’t worded that correctly. He’d kept me together. When my life was falling apart around me, he’d stepped in. And he’d done so because he’d cared. I didn’t think any of them got where I was coming from. Maybe him being in the group had meant the most to me. I wondered who I’d turn to now that he wasn’t around. All those nights on the road, dealing with the media and the public more again, as I did with every album release. Would I be able to handle it on my own?

~*~Michelle’s point of view~*~

The next weekend, I was having another wardrobe crisis. This one was even worse than the cook-out. What was a girl supposed to wear on a date with a Backstreet Boy?

I felt stupid as I dialed the phone but glad I’d been given the number.

“Hello?”

Crap. I was hoping he wouldn’t be the one to answer. “Um. Hey, is August there?”

“Sure,” Brian said. “Let me go find her… aren’t you supposed to be with AJ tonight?”

“Um,” I so eloquently said again. “I’m getting ready.

“Ohhh…” I could hear his smile over the phone. “Girl talk. I get it.” He put on a voice that reminded me of a gay designer. “You should wear those shoes from that store that go with that dress. It’ll look absolutely fabulous!”

I laughed. I’d never appreciated his humor so much: it was calming me down. “Well, thanks so much for solving that problem for me.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Here she is,” he said.

“Thanks,” I replied. “Hey August. I need help!”

She laughed, hearing the desperation in my voice. “What’s the problem?”

“What did you wear on your first date with Brian?”

“You’re calling me for clothes advice? Carmen still dresses me when I have to go to awards shows with Brian. I don’t remember what I wore.”

I sighed, frustrated, as I decided against another outfit.

“You’ve met AJ, right? Very different sense of style. I’m sure he’ll appreciate anything unique. Does that help?”

“Not really,” I said, truthfully.

“It’s going to be fine. It’s just like any other first date.”

“Do you know how long it’s been since…” I stopped myself, feeling stupid and not wanting to go there. “I’ll find something that’ll do. Hopefully.”

“Deep breathe,” she said. “Have a good time. And I expect to get a full report!” she laughed.

“Okay,” I said. “Will do.”

I wasn’t much of a dress-up person. And I had no idea where we were going tonight. I settled on my favorite pair of jeans and a peasant-style blouse. It was slightly hippie, but I liked it. And it was unique, so I was following August’s directions. I left my hair down today, going for something different. I always had to have it pulled back at the coffee shop, and that’s where he usually saw me.

I headed outside.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said.

“Jeez!” I jumped back, heart racing.

He was leaning against the building as I came out the front door. AJ started laughing, “You jumped like ten feet.” Then he took a closer look at my expression, and turned serious. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” I said, trying to calm down.

AJ put an arm around my shoulder. “You ready to go?”

“Where we going?”

“Out,” he said simply.

“Thanks for clearing that up for me,” I rolled my eyes and hopped into his car. I noticed that it was different than the one he usually drove. “Is this a Porsche?”

He nodded, proudly.

If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I’d be on a first date with a Backstreet Boy, riding around in a Porsche on a Saturday night, I would’ve thought that they were out of their minds.