I stare at the screen in disbelief. This isn’t happening. There’s no possible way that it’s happening.

But it is.

Too nervous to sit still, I spring from my chair and begin pacing the room, my mind racing. There has to be some logical explanation. I should go wake Kevin or Howie--they’re good with regular logic. According to Brian, I have my own special brand of logic and at the moment, my brand isn’t really helping me. See when I follow the events of the last hour from point A to point B, the only conclusion that I can come to is that I have entered the Twilight Zone.

Or possibly the Outer Limits.

Either way, I’m screwed.

I realize that I have anxiously begun biting my fingernails. They’ve been sufficiently chewed already and if I don’t watch it, I’ll end up eating my fingers or something, but for the time being it’s still just my nails. So that’s something positive about this, I guess.

I look back at the computer screen and frown at it. “This is all your fault, you know,” I grumble at it. Picking the thing up and throwing it out the window is what I want to do. Of course that won’t make things better and I’ll only end up getting fined by the hotel, lectured by Kevin, and a story in the tabloids with a headline emphasizing how my uncontrollable temper leads to hotel room damage. Plus for my luck the computer falling out the window will probably hit some poor innocent bystander below and maim them for life. Which will land me in jail or maybe I can plead temporary insanity and end up in a mental institution or something. Or maybe it’ll be deemed an accident or something cuz…it would be of course. I don’t want to hurt anyone. So…fine, lecture, story in tabloids, and maiming bystander.

Of course none of those things is terribly appealing. Especially Kevin’s lecture. Although, when I think about it, Kevin’s lectures are sometimes worth it just to make him squirm and stuff when I ask questions pretending I’m not understanding him. He’s so funny when he’s frustrated! Me? When I get frustrated I just want to do things like throw computers out of windows. That’s probably just not as funny. At least not to me.

So, instead of doing what I *want* to do (ya know, throwing the computer), I sit back down at the computer and look at the screen some more, hoping that I’ll come up with a new plan of action. Oh yeah, that’s me Nick Carter, Man of Action.

And to think, this computer thing had started out being fun. I glare at the screen as a new line pops up on the chat screen.

KaosCarter: Hey, Iny? You still here, girl?

I should never have come into this chatroom. But noooo, I wanted to stop in and be amused by all the latest rumors and see if I could get some good ego stroking listening in on the fans talking about me. So I’d logged in incognito (get it, Incognito is my screen name, and it’s me being incognito…okay perhaps it’s just me that thinks that’s funny…moving on now) and pretended that I was a fellow fan. How was I supposed to know that some guy was going to show up posing as me just a few minutes later?

I knew there were posers out there and all, but I’ve never run into one before. It was kind of neat at first, really. It was pretty funny. What are the odds of going online and having someone pretending to be you try to pick you up in a chatroom? Given KaosCarter wasn’t actually trying to pick me up, but he seemed to have singled me out as one of his favorite “girls” to talk to.

KaosCarter: You know, Iny, I’m beginning to think I’ve been abandoned here, girl.

FracksGirl: I’m still here, Nicky! =)

I cringe. FracksGirl is completely convinced that the KaosCarter guy is me. The bigger problem--the one that’s got me going insane--is that I haven’t been able to prove her wrong!

I mean, it’s so absurd! If I didn’t know that I wasn’t him (cuz…well…I’m me, and I’m not typing that stuff, so…he’s not me…right?), I would have probably fallen for him hook, line, and sinker. That’s why I’m so utterly frustrated. I need to make the guy slip up so that she doesn’t get sucked in any farther. I mean what if the guy is a total pervert and tries to lure her somewhere pretending that he’s me?

So far he’s seemed harmless and all, but then there are still a couple others in the room. Maybe he’s just waiting until there’s only one of us left. Well, if that’s the case, I’m going to make sure it’s *me* that ends up being the last one here. That way I can maybe find out where he is and send the police to go get him or something. I hate the idea that some sicko is using my name and celebrity status to try to lure young girls offline.

I quickly type in a message just to keep in the game.

Incognito: Sorry, Kaos, mom was yelling at me. I’m back. :)

A lie, of course, because my mom isn’t on tour with me these days, but it’s the first thing that came to mind, you know?

KaosCarter: Thought you left us for a minute there.

Incognito: Nope. It’s awful late, though. Don’t you have to get some sleep or anything?

I smile thinking that maybe that’ll trip him up a little. We have a day off tomorrow, so I can sleep as late as I want, then spend the afternoon at the beach soakin’ up the rays. Fans don’t generally know our daily schedule except for days of concerts and public appearances. They’re not kept informed of rehearsal times and photo shoots and magazine interviews or anything. At least most aren’t. A few somehow always manage to snag that information somehow. Go figure.

KaosCarter: Nah. We have a day off tomorrow. Can sleep in, you know? Hittin’ the beach in the afternoon, but that can wait until whenever I can roll my butt out of bed, you know? Totally understand if you need to go, though.

I have to admit that the guy is good. It sucks, but I admit it. He even talks a lot like me--he practically sounds more like me online than I do, you know? “You know.” I way overuse that phrase when I talk, but not when I type. It’s habit, you know? There I go again. I really gotta stop saying that! Going to make a conscious effort starting now. No more saying that, you know?

DAMN! Well, from NOW on I’ll stop saying it.

What really ticks me, though, is that he even knows what I’m planning to do on my day off! Given, that’s a pretty educated guess if he’s read stuff about me--which he obviously has since he’s been able to field every single question that the non-believers have thrown at him correctly. Everything from the easy ones like that my favorite color is green to the harder ones like my favorite breakfast cereal. My answer to that one changes quite a bit depending on my mood, but the guy actually said my current favorite. I even had it for breakfast this morning!

LatinaLover: Noooo! Don’t go, Iny! We’ve been having sooo much fun!

And we have been, for the most part. She and I were talking for a while before Kaos came in claiming to be me. Latina didn’t really seem to have a lot of interest in talking with “Nick Carter” except to ask him a few questions about Howie, her favorite of the Backstreet Boys. She’d asked a bunch of questions about him, and Kaos had been able to answer almost all of them correctly. The only ones he couldn’t answer, I couldn’t either, so I hadn’t even been able to expose him on those. But Latina had kept the questions coming, trying to expose him as a poser right along with me. She explained to me via a private message that if he were the real Nick Carter, he would be able to answer all sorts of questions about the other guys too. That’s how a lot of posers get caught, I guess--they can answer all sorts of questions about the guy they’re posing as, but not enough about the others. See, I never would have thought of that, but Latina picked up the slack. And once I found out what she was up to I tried to stump him with questions about AJ, Kev, and Brian, too, but I swear he knows everything! Which just makes it so much more frustrating!

FracksGirl: Seeya, Iny.

I roll my eyes. Huh. Amazing how she is so eager to be rid of me, huh? One less person to distract “Nick’s” attention from her. If she only she would realize who “Incognito” really is. But, of course, if I try to tell her now, she’ll never believe me. I know, I know, I’m complaining about some guy posing as me while I’m posing as someone else, too. After all, as far as any of these people know I’m a 17 year old girl from Iowa. I’m not posing as a real person though, so it’s not the same thing! Is it? If it is I swear I’ll *NEVER* do this again either.

Incognito: Actually it’s my day off tomorrow, too, so I’m not going anywhere yet, either.

FracksGirl: Oh.

Where’s the love?

KaosCarter: Great. I’m glad you’re staying. I love talking to you, you know?

Ah, there it is. Grumble, grumble. Define irony for me sometime.

KaosCarter: And hey, since you’re off too, maybe I’ll cya at the beach :P

Oh geeze. He *is* trying to lure me somewhere to meet him. No. Maybe he’s just kidding…he used that little “:P” thing and he hasn’t asked where I live or anything, so he wouldn’t assume we’re in the same area. And if he’s looked at my fake profile, he thinks I’m from Iowa, I remind myself. There aren’t really beaches in Iowa…well, at least I doubt there are cuz it’s not like on the coast. I don’t think. Then again there are probably lakes and stuff, so I guess there could be beaches…that really isn’t the point, nevermind.

Incognito: Yeah right. :P

KaosCarter: :D

I stand up again, my nervous energy not letting me stay seated. I really have to figure this thing out. I mean…I know that zone thing isn’t real. Right? It’s not. No cuz then it would say “based on a true story” down at the bottom of the screen every episode. Wouldn’t it? Or maybe they didn’t do that back when they made those shows. No. The Twilight Zone isn’t real. It isn’t, it isn’t, it isn’t. Cuz this is *nothing* like that episode where that guy calls home and he answers the phone himself. I just have to keep telling myself that it’s not real. This isn’t like that. Really it’s not…

God it is *just* like that! I snatch up my cellphone and quickly dial my home phone number. I got to just make sure. If I don’t answer the phone, then I’m okay. Otherwise…I’m KaosCarter…or KaosCarter is me…and…

“Heya,” my voice greets me over the phone and I drop my cell in surprise. CRAP! I scramble to pick up the phone.

“Hello?” my voice calls in a confused tone. I swallow hard, my hand beginning to shake as I grip the phone. I can’t seem to make myself speak. “Hel-loooooo?”

I squeeze my eyes shut. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening…

Damn it! It’s happening! I’m in the freakin’ Twilight Zone! WhatdoIdo?WhatamIsupposedtadonowshitohshitoh--

“Geez calm down. You know I’m not really home y’all. I’m on tour, remember? So just stop talkin’ until you hear the beep then try again…”

D’oh! I forgot I put that on my answering machine. Oh god, I’m soooo stupid sometimes! I laugh as I realize I’ve fallen for my own idiotic answering machine message. I really need to change that thing…I hang up the cell and sink back into the chair in front of the computer.

KaosCarter: Your mom yelling at you again? :P

Incognito: Ha ha. No. Someone just called me.

I wasn’t lying. Someone *did* call me. It was just me.