There are lyrics to a song in this chapter. The story will lose TONS of impact if you don’t hear them. At the very least, find sound samples, though they might not be the lyrics I chose to use. But I'm serious, try CDNow.

Brian held his breath, his eyes screwed shut. If he tried hard enough he could almost believe that Malia was in the room. Very slowly, as so not to break the 'spell,' he turned off the radio and continued dreaming.

Malia rested her forehead in her hands and sighed. Studying was out of the question. Her mind wasn’t, and would never be in it that night. She crammed her CD player into her bag and piled her books. Before leaving she checked her appearance in the bathroom mirror.

She was dressed like she always was, a cross of being the girl next door, and NYC cool, thanks to Julie. On impulse, she yanked the few bobby pins keeping her now "short" hair in a messy bob. She finger styled it, trying to look more like the Malia Brian knew. Maybe it would help if she smiled. No luck. Nothing was going to give her back the past.

Nothing.

* * *

Nick watched Brian sleep, staring at the rhythmic motion of his chest. For the past few days it had been like this. Brian saying he was fine, then crying himself to sleep when he thought no one knew. Personally, Nick envied him. He’d had two incredible girls after him.

But then, Nick mused, he only ever really wanted one.

Brian rolled over. He knew Nick was in the room, trying to analyze again. He could just make out Nick’s familiar shadow lying down on the bunk across from him. Both knew the other was awake. Kevin, Howie, and AJ were still in the entertainment room, playing Mario Kart. Normally Nick wouldn’t miss a minute of the game but he wanted to talk to Brian. He needed to get Brian to talk to him.

Nick watched his friend bury his face in his pillow. Brian still had his headphones on, playing nothing. Nick didn’t know what to do. If he could just get Brian to open up . . .

"No Nick," Brian muttered across the room, startling both of them, "I do not want to talk about it."

"Brian, I know you think I don’t understand, that I can’t be serious, that’ll I never be able to comprehend what you’re going through, but will you please just try me? We’ve all had to grow up fast . . . " He gave a mournful smile. "Please Frick?"

"Nick, to be completely honest, I don’t understand either," Brian admitted, flipping over to stare at the bunk stacked on top of his.

"You understand enough to cry every night."

Brian sighed. "It’s just . . . so unreal. How can you love someone that leaves you alone?"

"She didn’t leave you totally alone, she dropped Leighanne into your lap."

"Hey! I love Leighanne." Brian bit his lip and thought a moment. "You know what? I think I have ‘want what you can’t have’ syndrome. Yep, that’s what I’ve got. I can’t--and shouldn’t--have Malia, therefore I love her. Yep," he repeated, just trying to fool Nick, knowing the issue was much more complex.

In the dark, Nick rolled his eyes. Brian was a terrible liar. "So what song was on the radio that made you break down tonight?"

Brian sighed. Nick just wouldn’t give up. "No song. I was just thinking about how lucky I am."

"Riiiiiiight."

"It’s the truth."

"When are you going to stop lying Brian? Stop lying to yourself, to the world, to me?"

"I don’t lie to the world. MTV does a nice job of that without my help."

Nick shook his head. "Do you love Leighanne or do you love Malia?"

Brian didn’t answer. The answer was in his heart, and he was too scared to speak it.

* * * * *

"Let me get this straight. The girl takes her best friend’s boyfriend, says she loves you, breaks up with you with a tape, and you still love her?" Nick asked in disbelief the next day. He’d finally gotten Brian to admit what was going on, if not what he felt. “Man, you are screwed up!"

Brian turned the thought over. From Nick’s reasoning, it did seem fairly silly to say he 'loved' someone who obviously didn’t want him. "Well," he hedged, "it’s not exactly like that."

"Look at in black-and-white. The chick dumped you and you’re still waiting for her. It’s not going to happen! So you pick up the pieces and you move on. End of story." Nick turned and threw the remains of his lunch into the trashcan.

"She didn’t dump me!"

Nick sighed. They had come full circle again. He felt like slamming Brian’s head against the wall, he was so frustrated with him. Nick was ready to kill Malia as well, despite the fact he barely knew her. It didn’t matter. She’d screwed things up for Brian, and that was enough. "Look, Brian, I understand that you might have liked her, but there does come a point where you move on. Leighanne is coming down this afternoon. I don’t think you have a choice!"

"Yeah, I do."

"No, you don’t."

Brian sighed and pressed his fingertips to his temples. As much as he hated to admit it, Nick had a point. A good point. Damnit. He was beginning to feel stupider and stupider with every passing second. "Look," he started coolly, "I'm not in love with Malia. I love Leighanne, all right?"

Nick threw his arms in the air. "Okay, for the first half of this conversation you defend Malia! Now you’re defending Leighanne! Who is it Brian? You have to make a choice! You can follow around a ‘ghost’ or you can take what you have! What’s it gonna be?"

* * * * *

"That was a great show," Leighanne told Brian as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "You guys sure give it your all."

"Yeah," he replied, not really thinking. Since no performances were scheduled on school nights--marketing tactic, they were told--that left the boys with lots of free time. Brian planned to go back to Florida with Leighanne for a few days, and then rejoin the rest of the guys. They saw no point in sticking together when they didn’t have to. By the end of the tour they knew they would be sick of each other and each other’s "cute" habits.

"What’s it gonna be?" Nick mouthed to Brian when Leighanne turned around to talk to Mandy.

Brian nodded towards Leighanne. He was resigned. Malia chose her path. Now he only had to confirm his. There was nothing left to do.

Oh, if only he knew how wrong he was.

* * * * *

Leighanne’s head lay slumped against the window of the car as Brian drove closer and closer to “home.” Slowly she opened her eyes and turned to face him.

"Hi," he said softly. "Have a nice nap?"

She yawned, not even bothering to disguise her tiredness. "Is there such a thing?" She slumped farther down in the seat. "How far away are we?"

"Far enough. At least another hour. Go back to sleep."

"Why can’t there ever be a direct flight?" she mumbled, crawling into the fetal position.

He reached an arm behind his seat and located his jacket. "Here," he said, tossing it over her. "Goodnight."

"I wouldn’t call it good . . . "

Now there’s a thought. When’s the last time I had a "good" night?

Not since Malia left.

* * * * *

Malia leaned up against the counter, clutching the frozen yogurt carton and a spoon with a deathly grip. Trying to pry the miniscule pieces of toffee and chocolate out of the sickeningly sweet vanilla hold was a futile battle. She frowned and chucked the whole thing--spoon included--into the garbage can.

Sighing, she turned the picture frame that contained both pictures of Megan and Brian down to face the table as she walked into her room.

Stripping off her shirt and jeans she changed into what would be considered something ‘over-the-top’ by Megan and the ‘usual crowd.’ Who cared? The usual crowd wasn’t Megan and her old friends anymore. So on went the tight black mini-skirt and black platforms.

On her way out she flipped the picture frame back up and tore up the photo of Brian. It was over. Over for good.

Then why did she still feel to terrible inside?

* * * * *

"Hey," Leighanne said softly, dropping next to Brian in the sand.

"It’s late," he reprimanded.

"You’re up."

He leaned back on his elbows. "Still."

"Look, if you want to be alone . . . "

"Not really," he replied, pulling her closer. "You cold?"

"Not any more." She stared out at the ocean with him silently for a few minutes. "Whatcha thinking about?"

"How lucky we are," he lied. He was still thinking about Malia. About what they would be doing if she was there instead of Leighanne. Probably kissing, he thought, trying not to laugh at himself.

Leighanne shot him an odd look. "Why?"

"Someone’s inquisitive tonight, isn’t she?" He moved her so that her head rested under his chin.

She yawned again and snuggled closer. Brian didn’t pay any attention. It was like falling back into a routine. Nothing new, nothing had changed. In all honesty he would be ready and willing to leave Leighanne if Malia would just call or write.

But that wasn’t going to happen. He’d have to follow Nick’s advice--pick up the pieces and move on. It was over.

The next time Brian looked down at the bundle in his arms she was asleep. Sighing, he tried to free her and place her lightly down. It worked, and aside from her shifting when he covered her with his jacket she didn’t protest. He stretched out next to her, planning to doze until she wanted to go inside the house.

‘Everything is perfect. Everything is wonderful. Everything is fine.’ Trademark smile. All statements he’d given reporters on their relationship.

"How do you feel about girlfriend Leighanne Wallace’s rising career?" "Is it true you briefly dated her best friend?" "Do you have any plans to marry Ms. Wallace in the near future?" Two of the questions got him to laugh--like he needed reminding that Leighanne was his girlfriend. That bittersweet reminder was the beauty that lay next to him.

"Briefly dated" was his most hated term. Not only did he want his private life--wait, what private life?-- that was the most horrid way to sum up the best month he’d ever had.

But he was the "perfect" Backstreet Boy, the golden-haired, church going, second-only-to-Nick. The BSB who moms approved, the BSB girls wanted to take home, and the BSB who was supposed to deliver a flawless performance--both to the press and the fans--every day.

If he could burn those contracts . . .

It shouldn’t be like this, he thought. We shouldn’t be tied to the past and bound to the future.

Gently pushing Leighanne, still sound asleep, off his chest and into the sand, he brushed off his pants to head closer toward the surf, where he would be able to cry for the first time, without anyone hearing or noticing.

I remember the nights I watched as you lay sleeping
Your body gripped by some far away dream
And I was so scared
And so in love then
And lost in all of you that I had seen
And no one ever talked in the darkness
No voice ever added fuel to the fire
No light ever shined in the doorway
Deep in the hollow of earthly desire
But if in some dream there was brightness
And if in some memory some sort of sign
And flesh being revived in the shadows
Blessed our bodies would lay so entwined

And I will, oh I will, not forget you
Nor will I ever let you go
And I will, oh I will, not forget you

I remember how you left in the morning at daybreak
So silent you stole from my bed
To go back to the one who possesses your soul
And I back to the life that I dread
So I ran like the wind to the water
‘Please don’t leave me again,’ I cried
And I threw bitter tears at the ocean
But all that came back was the tide

| Chapter Sixteen |

"I Will Not Forget You"/Sarah MacLachlan