| Chapter Three: Video Star |

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Static blared from the radio in Malia’s room. Today’s the day, she thought. Megan and I are going to go to a video shoot! Yesterday had simply been another day at the mall. The girls had decided to take separate cars and the time had passed so quickly it was hard to believe today was “the day.” Over the sound of her thoughts the persistent static continued. Quickly flicking off the radio Malia set out to her shower. The hot water instantly woke her up, despite the fact that it was 3:30 AM. She giggled silently, remembering how she had screwed up the time of her alarm and had gotten up at 3:15 instead of 4:15 one school day. Albeit, 4:15 was early, she needed the time.

Shampooing her hair with a scented kiwi lather Malia ran though a mental checklist. Overnight bag-just in case, purse, keys, map, directions, cell phone, all check. Brain? Check. The video shoot was just over an hour away from her apartment so Malia decided to drive home everyday, rather than stay down there. “Bring some stuff in the event you stay the night,” Leighanne had suggested. “You can always crash at my place if it gets late.”

Malia stepped out of the shower and tried to prevent a flood. Dripping everywhere she opened the door to let some sauna-like air out. Wiping a spot in the mirror she caught a good look at herself. Her hair, soaked, fell in streaming waves. Her long and fat eyelashes were almost stuck to her skin. She laughed in spite of herself.

A few hours later she had blow-dried and heat styled her hair, as well as dressed in the khaki skirt and dark denim shirt with a white undershirt she had gotten at Gap just two days ago. She doubled checked her bag-and her watch. It was 5:30 AM. Popping in two pieces of bread for toast Malia switched on the news. Arson, murder, and a threat of war helped to bring a cheery start to the day. When they began to talk about a possible nuclear disaster she surfed to the MTV morning video program. She then brushed her teeth, reapplied some makeup and grabbed her things. 5:45 AM. She loaded her car, and then took some CD’s to listen to.

“I don’t care who you are, where you’re from, what you did, as long as you love me,” Malia belted out, totally off key, in the usual traffic. HONK!!!! Looking in her rearview mirror she saw a grumpy trucker blowing his horn at her. “All right, all right, I'm moving, I'm moving, chill out pal,” she muttered and inched forward in the standstill traffic. “Every little thing that you have said and done, feels like it’s deep within me . . . “ she continued, turning the volume up. Her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Malia, it’s Megan. I just called to say that I will see you there. Traffic is awful isn’t it?”

“Yep. Well ciao!” Click. Click.

Malia began to feel butterflies in spite of herself. Chill out! C’mon Malia, you’re an extra that’s all. You just stand around and look cute for five seconds. Just have some fun seeing Leighanne again and don’t think about it. This is all nothing. Switching to one of her many favorite songs, Get Down (You’re The One For Me), she found the exit to take.

“Okay I take a right at Maple, follow Riverside Drive down to the first light where I take a left, then take the first right I see and follow that side street. Then, at the T-intersection take a left and don’t take any turns until I get ‘there.’ Okay, I can do this!” She mumbled rereading the directions. “Ah ha!” she exclaimed in triumph. “There’s my right at Maple!” The rest of the directions were actually easy to follow and she arrived early, at 6:45AM.

Now what? Malia wondered silently. Megan isn’t here yet. I don’t see Leighanne. Well, a look around can’t hurt. She grabbed her purse and Discman. Swinging her legs around she took a quick look in mirror. You don’t do too badly, Malia, but you could use some work, she decided. She walked quickly across the parking lot to the large gray building. Trailers, some labeled, Hair/Makeup and Wardrobe, were strewn around the outside. Trying the door to the main building Malia found it unlocked.

“Hello?” she asked, her voice echoing around. No one answered at first. Shading her eyes she saw the boys and crew finishing breakfast. She started to head over to a chair on the other side of the room. Click, click, click. Her shoes echoed a tapping sound across the entire area. The warm feeling began to rise in her cheeks and she cringed. She swooned into a chair and pulled out her notebook, trying to write some observations. Her hand kept shaking. Then she saw Brian Littrell walking towards her.

“Let me guess. Malia?” he smiled, holding out his hand.

“Yep,” she replied shaking his hand. “Sorry I'm early. How did you know who I was?”

“It’s not a big deal,” he assured her. “As to how I know who you are: Leighanne made me sit through an hour on everything about you. In fact I could recite your grade card from 1’st grade. A, A, A, A, A, . . . “ It’s working! Brian thought triumphantly.

Malia cracked a smile but it never reached her eyes completely. “Nice try, but letter grades don’t start until fourth grade.” She cleared her throat. “So, Leighanne told you who I was. What sort of damage control do I need to save my reputation?”

“None. She didn’t say too much. Just that you were a raving lunatic, that you once broke out of an insane asylum, you’ve actually jumped off a mountain for fun . . .” He grinned at Malia’s shocked expression. Gotcha. “First, I'm pulling your leg. Second, I want you to meet the rest of the guys.” He grabbed her hand and yanked her out of the chair. Stumbling like a fool her notebook fell to the floor along with her pen. She and Brian knelt down at the same time, foreheads touching. Malia hesitated for a moment before sweeping up the spiral pad and pen. Turning around, Brian called, “Hey, lazy butts! Over here!” to the rest of the group. He grinned at Malia. “They hate that. Prepare for a stampede.”

Malia watched in awe as the rest of the group came over. “Hey you guys, this is Malia, she’s going to be in the videos, and she’s a friend of Leighanne.” Brian introduced her.

“Hi, I'm Nick,” the baby faced blonde one said. As if I don’t already know, thought Malia. He too shook her hand as she was introduced to the rest of the group.

“How are you at basketball?” AJ asked her.

“Me?” Malia said. “I'm not really into sports. I'm more interested in writing and creative thinking stuff.” She noticed Brian fake exaggerated horror and back away. “No Brian, I am not the Devil Himself, thank you very much. And I have some lovely stories of Leighanne and gym class.”

“You don’t like sports? How can that be?” Nick moaned. Howie, Kevin, and AJ added similar sounds of amazement.

“I like them, I guess. I certainly don’t hate them. I'm just not very good at them. I don’t play anything regularly, that’s all,” Malia clarified. They’re just normal people, she marveled. And they treat me just like an old friend or sister or something.

“Okay, then you just need to learn,” said Brian with a wink. “Where’s the ball Kevin? Kevin?” Kevin and Howie had turned around again. “See Malia when it isn’t about Kevin, he gets bored. Now watch him turn around and defend himself,” Brian added the last sentence quietly.

Kevin ‘defended’ himself with a quick nudge into Brian’s ribcage by means of his elbow. Stealing the ball from him, Brian dribbled up to the hoop, paused, turned towards the group, shot the ball, bowed, and .  .  . missed.

Howling, AJ announced, “Okay, let me show Malia and you how it’s done. Do I have to do everything here?” Striding over to Brian the rest of the group migrated over to the hoop with him.

“No way Bone,” Brian resisted. “I am so much better at this than you!”

“Don’t make me tickle you,” Howie threatened. “You all know I'm the best!” That ignited good-natured squabbling. Malia couldn’t help but laugh at grown men fighting over basketball. Seizing an opportunity, she saw Brian move the ball to his hip as continued to argue. He leaned over, and took one hand off to punctuate a point. Quickly stepping behind him she grabbed the ball. Dribbling to the hoop she caught the boys’ attention. Swish. It sailed cleanly through.

“And that,” she said, dusting off her hands, “is how you play basketball.” She gave an overdone bow to the sound of applause.

“Score one for the chick!” laughed Brian. “I admit it, because someone here is man enough, that she’s just beat us all.”

“For the first and final time,” she quipped. At the sound of a door clicking she turned. “Megan! Over here!” she called. Setting down her purse Megan walked over. “Catch!” Malia yelled and threw the ball at her.

“Get the girl!” AJ incited a mob. Five guys charged at her like bulls.

Holding the ball like a deer in the headlights Megan quietly surrendered it to Brian, who took off with it before the guys could stop him. “It’s too early!” she explained to Malia, who smiled and chased after Brian. He ran up to the hoop and this time made the basket. Howie then possessed the ball-until Malia stole it. Running back to the hoop she scored and Nick quickly took control. After scoring, Malia walked off to join Megan.

“Hey, you made it down here quick,” she remarked.

“Yeah. I didn’t have too many problems following Leighanne’s directions. So how are you?” Malia replied.

“You seem to fit in with the guys pretty fast. I mean three hours ago you don’t know them and I walk in and your playing basketball and joking with them. That’s kind of odd don’t you think?” Megan commented suspiciously.

“Oh, please no rivalry! I was early, and Leighanne had told Brian a little about you and me. So I was talking with the guys when Brian tried to show off and prove he ruled at b-ball. I made a basket and a full out ‘war’ started. That’s all.”

“Okay . . . are you ready for this?” Megan asked, gesturing around the set.

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” The director walked in with Leighanne behind him. She looked around, not seeing Megan and Malia, and then strolled over to Brian to give him a kiss. He gestured towards Malia and Leighanne waved enthusiastically at them. They then watched as he pulled her into a quick embrace.

“So did you meet her?” Leighanne whispered.

“Yeah. She’s the brunette equivalent of you.”

“Hey!” exclaimed Leighanne, whacking him. “I like to think we are to separate people, thank you very much!”

“And you are. Chill out. She beat the guys and me at basketball pretty quick, so I have to give her respect there. Shhh, I think our director is going to get us started."

“Could we please have a name check?” the director yelled. “When I call your name tell me your role and correct my pronunciation. Ready? Okay, good. AJ McLean, Brian Littrell, Howie Dorough, Kevin Richardson, Nick Carter, I know you guys are here. Is there a Leighanne here?” he rattled off without stopping for breath.

“Yes, I am one of the female extras,” Leighanne’s self confident voice projected across the room.

“Good.” The director made a check on his list. “Is there a Malia?"

“That would be me,” the director turned towards his left to face he speaker. “I am another female extra.”

“Megan?”

“Yet another female extra,” said the other one on his left.

“Andrea and Alice?”

“We’re here, and female extras too,” a pair of mismatched twins replied.

“Hail, hail the gangs all here,” the director joked. “Okay people we are in for a long day. We’re going to shoot As Long As You Love Me these next, hopefully, three days, then start on I’ll Never Break Your Heart. I want all female extras in makeup/wardrobe. Tell them you’re shooting the ‘funky’ scenes. Boys, go see Fatima. Now.” He paused. Turning to the crew he mumbled incoherent directions.

The boys all exchanged a look. “The chair dance,” Kevin sighed.

“Here we go,” groaned AJ, equally unenthusiastic.

“Smile,” said Nick, almost sarcastically. “It could be a heck of a lot worse.”

“Yep,” seconded Howie. “It could be a routine to a fast song or she could be some sort of evil witch . . . “ he cackled.

The group headed off towards dance studio one to rehearse their signature ‘chair dance.’ Done with folding chairs it had also taken them about a week to learn it. And now they began to practice again with Fatima. A trim ebony woman she led them through the steps with skill and grace. Meanwhile . . .

*              *                *                *                *

“Oh, it’s so good to see you guys again!” Leighanne cried as she hugged Malia and Megan tightly. Real tears blossomed in her eyes.

“So where is wardrobe/makeup?” asked Malia as tearful hugs and quick updates were given all around. She turned the topic back to the impending video shoot. “I don’t think I heard one word in five that guy said.”

“It’s one of the trailers over on the left. But what the heck did he mean by ‘funky’ scenes?” Megan rejoined the conversation.

“I have no clue,” laughed Leighanne. She still sounds like a schoolgirl, observed Megan.

The three girls entered the trailer marked wardrobe, with Andrea and Alice at their heels. “Welcome to wardrobe,” a tall, slender girl said. “Our job is to dress you according to your character’s personality-not your own. So, I need to see a Megan first.”

“That would be me,” she answered, elbowing to the front.

“Well, you lucked out. You’re just one of natural looking girls. I also need an Andrea and Alice.” All three girls followed her back into the racks of clothing that seemed to go on forever. “You three are on this rack.” She gestured to a row on their right. “Megan your number is AC21, Alice you’re AM956, and Andrea your number AD397. Is there a Malia in here?”

“Yep, I'm here.” Malia walked over.

“Well you’re ‘sporty one’ AKA ‘Jana.’ You get to wear pants,” she threw a pair of stretch pants at her, “and tank top,” a white tank landed on Malia’s head. She pulled it off jokingly.

“Ummm . . . I don’t mean to be a pain, or picky, but can I have something that covers a little more ground? I don’t really like wearing tanks, and this one would show my midriff.” She shot a pleading look at her.

“Could you wear just a sleeveless shirt? You’re supposed to wear a tank, but . . . a white tank, a white sleeveless shirt, that’s not too much of a switch. Just don’t tell anyone!”

“Thanks! I won’t!”

“Is there a Leighanne here?” a twiggy blonde asked.

“Yes, I am here,” Leigh called from the door.

“Ok, you’re number B234. Over on that rack,” she pointed.

“Of course!” the other wardrobe woman exclaimed. “Shoes and accessories are over there.” She pointed to the other side of the trailer. “Megan, Malia, Andrea, and Alice are you done?”

“Yes,” the four answered in unison.

“Perfect. Please look at the number on your outfit. Over there you’ll find the shoes with your matching number. Also, you may find something in accessories with your number. Have fun!” She walked over to the blonde.

“I feel like a kid in a candy store,” Malia murmured to Megan.

“I know what you mean.” Megan looked around. “Where’s Leighanne?”

“She went to change since she had it all picked out for her.” Malia pawed through some bags to find her shoes. “That’s my number: AL73. Well here are my shoes. Platformish sneaks. This should be interesting. And I get a watch and silver hoops. Cool!” Malia declared. Megan quickly found hers. Heading back to the dressing rooms they met up with Leighanne and the three hurriedly changed, and then walked to makeup.

Megan had been given a wild, long sleeveless dress and a tee shirt to wear under it. “Ugh. Yellow-orange. This should be interesting,” she sighed. Andrea and Alice had already left.

“Well here we are,” Leighanne announced as they reached the makeup trailer. “Prepare to look nothing like yourself when you come out.”

“That would be a welcome sight,” joked Malia. Stepping inside, the smell of hairspray, perfume, gel, and other body products greeted her nose. The acidic smell of nail polish remover and nail polish mingled in the air, as well as the smell of . . . bubble gum? Chomp, chomp, smack!, came from behind her. Megan. Of course. Her nervous habit: gum chomping.

A full hour-and-a-half later the girls were perfumed, coated in makeup, and their hair was weighed down with about a pound of product. Looking in the mirror Malia saw her hair looked somewhat similar to its original style. That is, if she had wanted stick straight hair with a tiny flip and the ends instead of gentle waves. “You’re the sporty one so we can’t have you too finished,” the stylist explained. Unlike you, who seems to have the au natural look down pat, thought Malia. She then began taking tiny braids back across Malia’s head. Megan’s chin length hair had been made to a curly coif and Leighanne’s hair had been put into a fancy French braid. As for makeup Malia felt like she was wearing a mask of paper machete. A half a bottle of thick, creamy, foundation had been distributed across her face, with care to her naturally rosy cheeks. “That’s actually to your advantage,” the stylist had commented. “You should look like you have a natural flush with your character.” A tiny amount of blush had been added, with a highlighting color over it. Corrective cream had been spread under her eyes, and then a shade of brown shadow, followed by black mascara, eyeliner, her eyebrows had been plucked, brushed, and gelled. “And I'm supposed to look natural?” Malia had asked disbelieving. Before she could say anything else her lips were outlined, lipstick was slicked on, and gloss painted on over. Before she could get used to that a second shade of shadow was applied and two more coats of mascara. “Keep in mind you’re going in front of the camera.” The stylist reminded. “You’ll get used to it. Now off my chair you, and back to the main building. Try not to touch your hair or face, but we’ll be on hand for touch-ups during filming.”

The three girls compared looks. Leighanne and Megan had been just as done up as Malia. Megan had gotten pale pink shadow, and shiny gloss. Leighanne had gotten the most dramatic makeup, as usual. She looked like she was going to the Oscars. All three headed inside to the main building, wary of mirrors.

The boys had been working while the girls were being primped. They had just started to film the dance sequence. “That is so cool,” Malia whispered. “I love that folding chair thing.” She watched as they picked up the chairs and did some steps, put them back down, clapped and then launched into more steps.

“Brian is so cute,” Leighanne swooned. “I am so lucky!”

“Yeah,” Megan’s voice was a distant echo.

“Yeah,” Malia’s sounded no warmer.

What’s with them? Leighanne wondered. I thought we all were past those teenybopper crushes.

“Ok boys, we’ve got it. Now we’re going to bring in the girls,” the director called, waving to the five overdone extras. “This is the scene where, after the you boys have been performing, you walk up to the desk and turn the tables. Then we do the individual shots of each girl. Are you ready?”

“Yes!” both the guys and the girls shouted.

“Ok, I want our taller girls in the back. Leighanne, Alice, and Andrea, I want you guys just standing in the back. Don’t bend over, or you will dwarf Megan and Malia. Malia I want you leaning on the table like this,” the director propped himself up with both arms and leaned over. “Got it? Good. Megan you’re in the chair, lucky duck.” He laughed. “Ok girls, as the one of the boys switches the situation I need you all to sort of stand up and throw your shoulders back.” He demonstrated. “Let’s do this!”

The gang immediately assumed their positions. Malia almost held her breath as the Backstreet Boys, led by AJ and Brian, advanced. She remembered the morning, just a few hours earlier. It doesn’t mean squat, she reprimanded herself. He’s dating your best friend! Be happy for her. A nagging thought persisted though: Would Brian be dating Leighanne if he knew? She pulled herself out of it. She saw AJ walk towards the area and click a remote. “Stand up!” the director called softly. The girls all threw their shoulders back, and each stretched to maximum height. “Perfect!” yelled the director. “Now to the individual stuff. Boys you’ve got a five minute break now, if you want to take it. I don’t see the point of it . . .we have to do your critique shots while we do the girls.”

The rest of the morning was a blur. Alice and Andrea filmed their shot clips of the “show off” scenes. The boys, led by Brian in the desk chair, pretended to judge them. The best moment was when Brian, who had been spinning and tipping back the chair, fell out with a loud thud!, right as the camera turned onto him and the boys.

“All right people, you’ve all got a half-hour lunch break. Meet back here ASAP. We need to film the other three girls as well as do the ending shot. That is, assuming all this comes out right,” the director yelled as soon as Andrea was done spinning a basketball on her finger.

| Chapter Four |