Title: A Change of Face
Author: Granitite Stone, granitite@yahoo.com
Summary: Nothing is absolute. Our paths can be changed in an instant, and nothing will be the same. NOT PART OF STRANGE BEDFELLOWS!
Web Address: www.angelfire.com/weird/cobalite/index3.html
Pairing: AJ/Marshall
Rating: R

Another boring ass industry party. Marshall scanned the crowd, looking for the one person he actually wanted to see. A hand fell onto his shoulder. Marshall turned around, a smile on his face. "What took- What the hell are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you." It was Chris. "I miss you, Marshall. I'm willing to beg, but you already know that."

"What makes you think I'd do that to myself again?" He turned to walk away. "Fuck off, Chris. Just get over it already, and sleep with him. I know you want to."

"Marshall." Chris never liked to hear the truth. "We're good together. We always have been. Who else are you going to find to put up with you?"

"This guy bothering you?" It was AJ. "Come on. I have some people for you to meet."

Chris did a double take. "Marshall, isn't that…"

"Bye, Chris." Marshall waved, following AJ into the crowd. "Thanks."

"No problem. It was either drag you away or murder his ass." AJ stopped for a moment. "Good, you don't look too boy band."

"Why?" He suddenly got a sinking feeling. "Who are we meeting?"

AJ didn't answer him. "Harry, come're."

"Who's he?" Harry didn't seem to recognize him.

"This is Eminem. He's the one that wrote Stan." AJ was grinning, and it was a genuine smile.

"You're Em? Fuck, man, we've been looking for you. Alex showed us your stuff for Ain't Nothing." Harry slapped Marshall on the back. "You got some serious anger there. What do you do when you're not dissin' Nsync?"

"I'm a Backstreet Boy."

Harry laughed. "No, man, seriously."

"Want to see my publicity portfolio?"

"You wrote…" Harry looked horrified. "We're putting one of your songs on our next album? Alex, you've lost your mind. Backstreet Boy! This is the guy you're fucking, isn't it?"

He punched Harry in the arm. "Do you want the entire party to here you? You said it yourself, that song deserves to be recorded. Who but us could get away with us?"

"You really are having post-traumatic stress or something." Harry turned back to Marshall. "You really wrote that?"

"Unless I've been possessed by aliens recently."

"Damn. What the hell are you doing in a boy band?"

"Selling a million records in the first week our last album came out." Marshall was sick of this. "I grew up in the same hood as you. I spent ten years with my abusive mother bouncing between Detroit and Kansas City. So don’t pull the boy band shit on me. I could do what you do if I'd been given the chance."

"Fine. Whatever." Harry took a deep breath. "Welcome to the genre, Eminem." It almost killed him to say it.
-----
"This is an answering machine, you know what to do." BEEP.

//Marshall, it's Chris. Call me.//
BEEP
//Marshall, it's Chris. I really want to talk to you.//
BEEP
//I know you're there. Come on, pick up the phone.//
BEEP
//Marshall, this is JC. Chris has me at gunpoint. I think he wants to talk to you.//
BEEP
//We're good together, and you know it. Why is forgiving me this time such a big deal? Marshall, please…pick up the phone.//
BEEP
//I miss you, I always miss you when we break up. I'm not going away until you talk to me.//
BEEP
//There's a thousand words that I can say, to make you come home. Seems so long ago you walked away, and left me alone. Marshall, if you don't pick up, I swear to god, I am going to come and serenade you from the front yard. I don't care if the entire country finds out.//
BEEP
//Is this about that Johnny character? Tell me you're not really sleeping with him, because if you are, I'm gonna kill him.//
BEEP
//I mean it. Come on, Marshall, call me, at least acknowledge my existence. Or are you too busy fucking around with Mr. No Name?//
BEEP
//Marshall…. I still love you.//

AJ pressed stop on the machine. 'He's mine now you fucking bastard. You don't need him, but I do. Mine. Go fuck the Golden Child.'

"I swear to god, I'm going to change my number." Marshall pressed delete. "He just doesn't give up. Justin ever gets himself laid, Chris would be on him in ten seconds, with or without me."

"You're not going back to him?" AJ didn't like how his voice sounded.

"No." Marshall grabbed his arm and pulled him down onto the couch. "I've been putting up with Chris' shit for a long time, Alex. I'm sick of him. Hell, I wish he'd just give in. At least he'd stop calling."

"Yeah." An idea began to blossom deep within AJ's mind. He crushed it quickly. Bad, bad idea. "I have an idea."

"About what?"

"Stan."

"I told you. There is no way it's going on our album, and there's no room on yours. Just drop it."

"No." AJ propped himself up on his elbows, using Marshall's chest as a brace. "I think we should record it together."

"And do what with it?" Marshall laughed. "The fans who want it have already heard it."

"We could release it as a single. We pick one of your songs or one of my songs for the B-Track, and we release it as a single."

"You're serious." Marshall took a moment to let that sink in. "No, I can't do that."

"Why not? Don't give me that betraying the group stuff. You told me Carter's doing a solo album thing." AJ leaned forward, so they were nose to nose. "Don't you want to be a rapper, Marshall? Or have you gotten comfortable being the fifth Backstreet Boy?"

"What would people say?" Marshall wasn't sure he even cared.

"Tell me at this very moment Justin Timberlake isn't licking Nelly's balls, trying to get him to work on a remix for them. I know, because he called me." His hand slid under Marshall's t-shirt. "Record it with me."

"I never considered doing the chorus myself." Marshall allowed himself to be groped.

"You wouldn't be. What would be the point to that? You're going to be Stan."

"And you would sing Dido's part? Alex, when was the last time you sang something without saying fuck?"

"That's not the point." AJ grabbed a CD booklet from the table, and started to sing. "We've been inside the circus. We took the pleasure with the pain. I guess there's something about us, whatever comes around we always stay the same."

"Fuck man, why am I the one in this group?" Marshall sat up, pushing AJ next to him. "You can sing just as well as I can rap. That's just screwed up, you know?"

"I know." AJ reached for Marshall's lyric book. "So, what are we going to put on as the second track?"
-----
MTV News Update: Marshall Mathers Responsible for Obsessed Fan's Death

Or at least in his planned solo single. Every good Backstreet fan knows that the bad boy of the BSB really wanted to be a rapper, but Howie Dorough convinced him to join up. Eight years later, he's still in the band, but things are changing. The Backstreet Boys are slowly changing their music, and this shift from their old bubble gum style has finally given Marshall the chance to record his underground release, "Stan" that tells the story of an obsessed fan writing to his idol. The twist? The rap is done by Marshall, but the pop-style chorus is sung by none other than D-12 member Johnny No-Name. The album writing credits are slightly unusual too. Marshall will record under the alter ego of Eminem, and Johnny No-Name? He'll be going by his real name, Alexander McLean. Stay tuned to find out exactly why this unlikely pair is recording together.
-----
Same magazine, same interviewer. It was Deshaun's theory that she was being punished for letting them walk out last time. They finished the boring standard questions, and promoted Devil's Night, and it looked like they'd actually get out of here without the typical Tina question. The interviewer cleared her throat. "I have one last question."

AJ shot her a look. "Are we going to have to throw you out again? Because you've all been told-"

"No, no, no!" She frantically waved her hands. If they did throw her out, she'd lose her job. "This isn't about Tina, it's about Marshall."

Peter chuckled, and leaned in close to AJ. "If only she knew, right Alex?"

"Shut up, you fucker." He shoved Peter away. "What do you want to know?"

"They say the music industry makes strange bedfellows, but why him? Why sing the chorus?" She set down her notepad. "Is this all part of some secret desire to sing pop music?"

"Fuck no! I ran into Marshall at one of those boring ass industry parties. I'm sitting there, thinking 'boyband' and one of his friends comes over, calls him Em. Turns out, he's the guy that released this independent single, Stan. I'm sitting there, thinking, 'What a waste.' So, we decided to do something together. It was a switch for both of us, but it was fun."

"So, when is Stan hitting the market?"

"You can expect it out on the first of next month. He talked me into donating the royalties to his band mates' charities. That way, we're not actually making money off this, and Harry doesn't have to kick me out of his band."

"We'd never kick you out." Harry reached over, and smacked him on the back of the head. "We'd just tell the media all your secrets. Like the time we were out in California and-"

AJ's hand clapped over Harry's mouth. "Anyway. All of ya'll who're gonna be reading this, buy the damned thing. You'll be pleasantly surprised."
-----
'Stan' sold, and it sold big. D12 and Backstreet fans alike were suddenly going after the same cd. It made for an interesting crowd in the music stores. It got radio play, and went platinum in just a few weeks. Marshall wasn't sure how to take that. He looked up from the paper at Howie. "Does this mean that if I'd tried, I could have made it?"

"Marshall, all the white artists who've made it in rap have been from Detroit. You moved as a kid." Howie patted him on the shoulder. "Don’t worry. I don't think you could have done what Alex did. You're too…"

"Too what?"

"There's a decent person inside of you. I can't see how you'd ever sing anything like… what's their next single…Ain't Nothing But Music."

Marshall laughed, and Howie gave him a funny look. "Howie, I wrote it."

His best friend's eyes bugged out.
-----
They were in the same city, but AJ was running late. Marshall went to the club without him. He didn't realize that Nsync was in town for a television appearance. He didn't know Chris would be there. "Will you get the hell away from me?" He shoved Chris. "I don't want to dance with you, I don't want to talk to you, and I defiantly don’t want to fuck you."

"You don't mean that." Chris was a man who'd had one to many drinks. "I'm sorry for the way I acted, Marshall. I know you aren't doing anything with that rapper, you were just recording with him. I'm sorry I left those death threats on your answering machine."

"You're not forgiven." He started to walk away. "It's over, Chris, get it? I'm not putting up with you anymore. Tell me the truth. If Justin came up to you tomorrow and said he'd finally gotten laid, what would you do?"

"Justin doesn't matter. I love you, not him." Chris followed him off the crowded dance floor. "You have to take me back. I'm going crazy with out you."

"Quoting your songs isn't helping. So let me quote one of my friends. Fuck you. Understand, Chris? Stay away from me."

Chris caught his wrist, and backed him against the wall. "I can't. Marshall, who else are you ever going to find who will put up with your bullshit? You, the pop star who runs around with Johnny No-Name, who still can't figure out why his mother hates him, who grew up never knowing when he was going to be passed to the next family?"

"He already has." Chris was suddenly the one with his back to the wall, AJ looming over him. "Chris Kirkpatrick. The dwarf who can't seem to keep his hands, tongue, or dick to himself. I ever see you touch Marshall again, I will slit your fucking throat, and bury the body where no one will ever find it. Now do you understand?"

Chris looked at AJ defiantly. "He loves me, and he always will. Can you say the same thing?"

He punched Chris. Sadly, he probably hadn't broken his nose. Marshall grabbed his arm before he could take another swing. "He's not worth it."

AJ let Chris slide to the floor, and watched him wipe the blood off his face. "He always comes back to me, Johnny. You think you can keep him, but he's mine, and he's always going to be mine."

Marshall shook his head in disgust. "Sober up, Chris. Come on." He lead AJ away, not realizing the ideas spinning in his head.

'He always comes back.' AJ could hear their voices in his head.

"You think it would look suspicious if I got a restraining order?" They were in a back hallway now, and Marshall hadn't noticed how distracted AJ was. "Listen, thanks for punching him, but breaking his nose isn't going to do me any good. Chris is very persistent when he wants to be."

'If Justin came up to you tomorrow and said he'd finally gotten laid, what would you do?' It came to him in a flash. The only solution, short of murder, to get rid of Chris once and for all. 'No… I can't.' The question slipped out before he could stop it. "Do you really still love him?" Marshall didn't answer. "Do I mean anything at all to you, or have you been pity fucking me all this time?"

The answer he finally got was worse than no answer at all. "It shouldn't matter. I'm with you, not him." The decision was made that easily.
-----
End of Chapter Four

Questions, comments, and concerns about my sanity should go to granitite@yahoo.com
Choose Your Poison at www.angelfire.com/weird/cobalite/index3.html 
~ When I look into the mirror, and see a face I don't recognize, I am no longer surprised.