It was amazing how much 'stuff' a person could collect in such a short period of time. Photos. Gifts, long forgotten. Jewelry. Home movies. Worthless junk now, but at one time so precious. Brian couldn't wait to get rid of the junk. As soon as it was gone, it would be one less reminder. One less thing to set him over the edge.

When you go all I know is
You're my favorite mistake

* * * * *

Leighanne blew the dust off the top of a box and slit the faded masking tape with her nail. The musty smell of memories filled the room when she peered inside. Dried flowers. Sappy 'miss you more' love letters. Mixed tapes. She searched for a track list and nearly burst out laughing. The 'hits' of 1995 seemed so silly now.

Of course, she didn't want to admit the fact that she was terrified of leaving. It meant giving up her other half; the only person who saw her soul. Not an easy thing. Even if they weren't particularly fond of each other in this broken state, it was yet another milestone.

She contemplated her places to run. She couldn't go to Kentucky. No. Too much there. She considered going home, but her younger sister would ask where her 'better half' was. So would her parents.

Leaving the room, she logged onto the internet account she and Brian shared. 'One more thing to cancel,' she thought dryly. Airfares weren't cheap, it seemed, not at Christmas time. If everyone thought she was with Brian, why not take an impromptu vacation?

Snow. She wanted to be where it was cold and snowy. Where she was isolated and no one could bother her.

Ever.

* * * * *

Malia snapped a dishtowel at the counter, for no particular reason other than to make to man drinking his coffee in peace flinch. She hated being regulated to the counter. It was much more fun to be running around. Here, she was stuck with her thoughts. Not a good idea. (But I don't want to think, she thought.)

Eying her warily, the boy asked for more coffee. He was actually quite nice, but with one person at the counter, and only a few other 'families' scattered around the diner, she was bored to the extreme. Christmas break was no break, just a string of more mindless doings to keep her mind--and hands--from destroying something.

Tap, tap, tap, her fingers drummed to the beat of the rain. January had to be the dreariest season invented. Slush, rain, and fat, sticky snowflakes did not make for a 'Happy New Year.' As far as she was concerned, a new year was a chance to start all over with a new crop of mistakes and be haunted by the past ones. She hadn't celebrated with much--she'd sat up reading, watched the ball drop, yawned, and fallen asleep on the couch. That was her schedule for the most part--eat, breathe, read, sleep. Brian would be proud.

In the distance, the church bells started ringing, and she saw the man check his watch, sigh, and ask for a check. Jealous of their relief, she placed her weight on top of her foot until a numbing pain came. She was jealous of everyone in their faith--their faith in love, trust, understanding. Their faith in something bigger and stronger than them, but something she couldn't quite grasp. Even Brian had failed to explain it to her, and coming from a man who taught her how football was played, that had pretty much convinced her that it was hopeless. 'Still, it would be nice to make something of myself,' she thought. 'Get out of this town. Start a new life.'

She tapped her foot to the beat of the song playing, not really caring if anything happened for the rest of her shift.

And I'm listening
To the bells
Of the cathedral
I am thinking
Of your voice . . .
Maybe some day I can listen without shame

* * * * *

"Well, we survived another year," AJ announced, emphasizing the word 'survived.' "Happy 1998!"

Brian rolled a lazy eye in his direction as he settled back into the tour bus. "'Backstreet's Back, alright!'" Kevin said.

"Lord, I hate that song . . . "

"Aw, is little Bri-Bri jealous because someone took your solos away?" A considerably taller Nick asked, smirking.

"How can we back if we never left?"

"You didn't answer the question," he mocked.

"I'm the super goody-goody religious freak. I can't say the word 'sexual,'" he said sarcastically.

"No, I'm the freak!" AJ retorted, coming back from the miniature kitchen. "I have the right to every hair color in the rainbow and an unlimited supply of tattoos."

"Well, I'm the one everyone thinks is gay," Howie pointed out.

"I talk slow, and am repetitive," Kevin chuckled.

"I whi-i-i-i-n-e-e-e and ca-a-a-a-n't s-i-i-i-i-n-n-n-g-g," Nick added, stretching out each word into at least four syllables.

"We are seriously screwed," Brian laughed.

AJ tossed a handful of popcorn in the air, trying to catch it in his mouth. It fell all over the floor. "No, the people who say those thing obliviously don't know us."

"Congratulations, General Observations!" Brain saluted.

"You know, that was actually kind of witty."

"Gee, thanks."

"So what's the dish on Leighanne?" Howie asked, trying to prevent another good-natured fight. "Was she happy to see you?"

"Yup. And just as happy to see me go again. It's over-over." His eyes dared anyone to challenge him.

"Whoa . . . tough luck," AJ clicked his tongue.

"This coming from the man who does the floor hump? Ha. But no, I'm perfectly happy with it."

* * * * *

Malia lay on the floor of the bathroom, rolling up her pajama top to expose her stomach. Staring at the scented candle, oddly labeled 'tranquility,' she collected her thoughts. Grabbing it off the counter, she slowly dripped the wax over her skin. Ow.

To any hot-blooded male, it would have looked like 'a sexual thang, baby!' But to her, she was waiting for the point where the emotional pain overtook the physical, the point of being where she was invincible, where she could bleed and burn as long as she wanted.

Sighing, she picked the remaining wax off and waited for the tears to come.
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release …

If the release was so beautiful, why did it turn her so ugly, both inside and outside?

* * * * *

Brian sat at the edge of the stage, legs dangling over the side. Miscellaneous items were propped up, waiting to be carted off to the next city. For once, they had the luxury of a few hours before leaving.

An assortment of 'love letters,' flowers, candy, stuffed animals--all sorts of 'mushy' stuff--was loosely arranged into a heap on the right-hand side. The local DJ had been bombarded when he'd asked for all items to be brought down to the stage. Brian smiled at his look of shock.

He sifted through a pile of letters, barely reading past the first sentence. He threw them into organized stacks--AJ, Nick, Nick, Nick, Kevin, Howie, Nick, Nick, and many more 'Nicks.'

"Man, you are one stubborn guy, aren't you?" Nick asked rhetorically, leaning on the curtains.

"You're going to break those if you're not careful," Brian replied absent-mindedly.

"When did you morph into Kevin?"

"As Long As You Love Me."

Nick stifled a laugh. "This is pathetic."

"What?"

He crossed over and bent down in front of Brian. "You don't need to follow your songs, you know."

"Huh?"

"I try to pick the pieces up, but I can't think of starting over," he sang off-key.

Brian blinked at him, still confused. "Come again?"

"Don't give me that." He snatched the letters out of Brian's hands. "She didn't come tonight. She didn't leave a letter."

"I know Leighanne didn't come tonight."

"You and I both know that's not who we're talking about."

* * *

"Nick?"

"Yeah?" He asked, rolling over in the bed across from Brian's.

"Do you think that two people can be connected, even if they aren't together physically?"

"They'd have to want to be."

"But what if they are apart, but they just can seem to turn off the connection?"

"You mean soul mates."

"Yeah."

"You're obsessed."

By the time Brian opened his mouth to protest Nick had rolled over and fallen asleep. Brian sighed and rolled over, and as he slept her swore her heard Malia ask him, "If you were a king, up there on your throne. Would you be wise enough, to let me go? For this queen, you think you own, she wants to be a hunter again. I want to see the world alone again ... so let me leave, so let me go."

| Chapter Eighteen |

"My Favorite Mistake"/Sheryl Crow
"Angel"/Sarah McLachlan
"Tom's Diner"/Susanne Vega
"Hunter"/Dido