Chapter 1
"Come on, come on. Shit, I'm not going to make it. There's no way." I
thought as the lift moved downwards at what, I thought, to be far too
slowly.
Let me explain - While attending a Summer Course in DCU (Dublin City
University, Ireland) I made some very good friends, including one person
called Ryan Starkey. What was so strange about this was that we were so
different. He was a conservative (But not a bad person! Joking!) while I
was a liberal. He still felt uncomfortable in the company of girls and one
of my best friends was one. He thought that girl's showing their stomachs
was too much and I was all for full frontals (of the right kind, of
course.) And he didn't like gays and I was gay. (He didn't know that I was
though) But the thing was that he knew that he should not dislike
homosexuals so that was all right. Too many differences? I didn't think so
and we had one thing in common - we both liked to have a good argument.
Strange, but true. Anyway, the long and the short of it was that he had
invited me to stay with him over my Easter holidays and after cajoling my
parents for months they had relented and given me permission to go.
"They
are never going to let me do anything ever again if I miss this flight!" I
had gotten a flight from Dublin International to JFK because it was cheaper
then flying into Dulles directly, and it gave me a day in which to see some
of the sights of New York. That night I had fallen heavily asleep with the
effects of jetlag, and since the wake-up call that I had ordered had not
come until 2 hours after it was supposed to I was in a bit of a rush. I
just hoped that that I would be in time. Finally the doors opened and I
walked out. True, I was in rush but as I mother always said - Less haste,
More speed. That, plus the two very important facts - that I hated running
anywhere because people always stare when you run and I'm so shy, and I did
have heavy bags with me, which would be the excuse if anybody asked. But
someone else apparently did not feel the same way about it ran into me.
Next thing that I knew, I was lying on the ground with a
sharp pain in the back of my head and my luggage scattered around me, with
my clothes and other belongings strewn across the floor.
"I'm so sorry about that! Here, let me give you a hand up"
With that the young man who had knocked me down offered his hand.
"Least you could do." I thought, forgetting about the flight
and thinking more about the things that lay in the lobby for the world to
see.
"I really am so sorry, are you ok? Billy, could you go upstairs and explain
what happened?"
"You know that I can't do that. What do you think that *he*
will say if I leave you alone down here, especially since you are going to
be late if we don't hurry." Said a big man who I had not noticed standing a
couple of feet of to the side.
"Please? Just explain. I'll be fine, we're in the lobby and
I don't see anybody who is going to start screaming, do you?"
"Yeah ok, but don't blame me if you get into trouble over
this" With that Billy, shaking his head like he was used to this sort of
thing and knew what was going to happen, walked over to the lift that I had
just come out of.
"Can I give you a hand with your stuff?" He said. "Where are you going?
JFK?"
"Yeah, that was the idea."
"I'm really sorry about this, we'll pick your things up and then I can get
you a lift to the airport, ok?"
I thought that that was an odd way to put it - get you a lift. Didn't he
mean give me a lift? But it didn't matter; I looked at my watch and saw
that I was too late to make my flight anyway. So I started to pick up my
clothes before to many people got to see weather I wore boxers or briefs
(boxers)
"No thanks, I was late anyway and this was the final thing. There is no way
that I could make it to the airport on time."
"Where are you going?" He said as he picked up my CDs. "You like Eminem
*and* the Backstreet Boys?! They're kind of at opposite end of the spectrum
aren't they?"
"Maybe, it doesn't mean that I can't like them both though."
"I guess, you a big fan of BSB?"
"I like their music, so if that's what you mean then I guess so."
"You never said where you are going."
"Hmmm? Oh, Washington D.C., to visit a friend." I finally got all my
clothes stuffed back into my bag and saw that he was almost finished with
the other bag.
"Could you do me a favour? I need to ring the person who was supposed to
pick me up and tell them what has happened. Could you look after my bags
for a minute?"
"No problem, here - use my mobile."
"Thanks." I took the offered mobile and dialled the number that I had so
often dialled from home. 6 rings and then -
"Hi, you've reached the Starkeys. Sorry that we're not in right now, but if
you leave a message we'll get back to you as soon as possible"
"They've gone already. Can I make one more call?"
"Go right ahead." I took out my own mobile and looked through the phonebook
for the number of Ryan's father's mobile, found it, and typed the numbers
into the keypad. "Hi, this is Fiachra, could I speak to Ryan please?
Thanks. Hey Ryan, yeah I know that I should be on the plane by now. What?
No, my wake up call didn't come and with jet lag and everything. listen I'm
on someone else's phone so I'll ring you back as soon as I know what I'm
going to do. Tell your parents that I'm sorry, bye."
During the course of the call I had drifted of to the side because a tall
dark haired man and Billy had out of the lift, up to my 'assailant' and he
was arguing with him. I saw him develop the same look as Billy, the look of
a person who knows that they are not going to get their own way. I walked
back to them and handed the phone over to its owner. "Listen, thanks for
your help, but I have to figure out how I'm going to get down to Washington
and see if I can get any money out of this hotel because of that wake up
call."
"Not a problem, we've been talking it over and, since we are going down to
Washington anyway. would you like to come with us?" As he said this the
smile on his face grew wider, as if he thought that he was doing me a huge
favour.
(Which, I guess it was, really)
"I shouldn't." He looked positively shocked when I said that. "Thanks for
all your help, but I have to go. Thanks again" I was saying this because
after all, I was in a foreign country and I didn't know this person. Never
get into a car with a stranger, remember?
"Why not?"
"Look, you've been very helpful and everything but-" At this point the
black haired man interrupted me and said, with a grin breaking out on his
face -
"Don't want to get into a car with strangers huh?"
"Basically, I'm sure that you're trustworthy and all but it's not like I
know you or anything."
"Are you sure you don't?" Blondy (as I'd taken to calling him in my head)
said with another grin developing.
"Look closer." So I took my first real look at them and realised what it
was that they were getting at. Nick (As I now knew him to be) must have
seen the look of realisation dawning across my face.
"Strangers? I thought that you were a fan?"
"Your words, not mine. Why are you going to Washington?"
"Due to phenomenal demand extra dates have been added to the sell- out
Backstreet Boys U.S. tour" Kevin droned in a monotone.
"But really they've been planned for months" Added Nick. "We're almost
finished them, we just have 2 concerts in Washington and then we have 2
whole weeks to ourselves before the European leg of the tour."
"Speaking of which, we have to get up to the room in the next couple of
minutes before they leave without us - but I guess that we've got time to
sort out the manager of the hotel first." This last part added in after
another one of those looks from Nick. That boy could get away with murder
using them, I thought to myself.
"Are you going to come with us now?"
"I guess that I could grace you with my presence after all."
"Ha! You wish!" Said Kevin. "What's your name by the way? I guess that you
know that I'm Kevin Richardson, this is Nick Carter and this is Billy -
Nick's bodyguard."
"My name's Fiachra. It's great to meet you all."
"Kevin," said Nick with a whining sound to what he was saying "He didn't
even scream or pull at my clothes or anything, I think that I'm getting too
old. I thought that you were a fan."
"Sorry, if you wanted me to scream then I could do so now. I know! I could
shout out your names while I'm at it and see if I can round up a couple of
adolescent girls to tear your clothes off while I'm at it. I mean, I'm
flattered that you want me to rip off your clothes but that's not something
that I do to people that I just met as a rule." By the end of this Nick had
gone a dark shade of red and didn't say anything.
"Hey! He managed to shut Nick up! Way to go Fiachra!"
"You managed to pronounce it!"
"Huh? What I do?"
"Every American that I have ever met has had trouble pronouncing my
name. Most that I know still do. It's refreshing to meet someone who has no
trouble with it."
"Well, we've been to so many places and seen so many people that you come
to realise that the easiest way to pronounce names is to just copy the
other person exactly and not even think about the name - but this is
getting us nowhere." Kevin stopped talking and looked around, saw who he
wanted, even thought the person that he approached looked just like anyone
else in the lobby, and walked over to them. "How do I get to the manager's
office from here?"
"It's the second door on the left around that corner, but he's not here.
He's on his holidays." Replied the person that he stopped.
"Well who's in charge of this hotel then?" I was seeing the side of Kevin
that all the articles wrote about, the authoritative and commanding side.
I could see that it would not be easy to argue with him and I was glad that
he had not gotten like that with Nick because I was really looking forward
to the bus journey down to Washington.
"How did he know to talk to him? He looks like everyone else here." I
asked Nick.
"You stay in as many hotels as we have and you get to see who 'belongs', if
you know what I mean. It's amazing, isn't it, the change that comes over
Kevin when he is talking business. It's like he is a different person." I
had to agree with him on that one. Meanwhile Kevin had ascertained that the
man who he had stopped was the assistant manager and was in the middle of
verbally bullying him into giving me the cost of my flight to the
capital. The assistant manager agreed to Kevin's demands and went of to get
his chequebook.
"I have to thank you Kevin, I don't think that I would have done that for
myself."
"No problem. It helps to keep them in their place, and if you had asked him
I don't think that you would have gotten the money out of him anyway. I had
to threaten not to come back or to bring the group back again, they would
lose *a lot* of revenue that way - because we take a whole floor - so he
saw that it was easier to give you the money."
"Oh."
"Don't look like that. I don't mind using the group like that and we enjoy
helping out our fans. *Especially* the type that don't scream at us." He
said with a grin. Just then the assistant manager scurried back over to our
small group and handed me quite a large cheque. Far more then the cost of
my flight.
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience that we have caused you sir, I hope that
this does not discourage you from coming here again." This last part was
directed more towards Kevin then it was to me. I assured him that I would
stay here if I was in New York again.
"Since that's all done, let's go upstairs. We have some last minute stuff
to do before we leave and you've already delayed us enough Nick." After
saying that Kevin picked up one of my bags, Nick picked up the other and we
all got into an open lift. Billy pressed the button for the sixth floor and
the doors closed.
Chapter 2
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