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Chapter Six
Point of View: Narrator

Krystal Armaleto had a secret. That secret's name was Desi and he was a back up dancer on her tour. They'd had a fight that morning about her commitment to him, and she'd gotten angry, saying if he was going to question her commitment then she'd give him reason to. Now she was here with Nick, her official boyfriend, and she planned to make Desi very, very jealous over the pictures that got released on the Internet that night.

She texted Desi during the show, only half watching as Nick, Brian, Howie and AJ danced and did their skits. Nick waved at her a couple times, and she pretended to be extremely enthusiastic at just the right moments, but for the most part he was just annoying her. She kind of regretted coming, she could've made Desi just as jealous by going to a club with him and making out with some guy there, or getting on a table and taking off her shirt. She didn't need to put up with Nick to get Desi going.

Krystal knew she should break up with Nick, she just wasn't sure how to do it. After all, their relationship was so huge, it had caused a merging of the two fan bases, and she wasn't sure whose fans were more loyal... hers or his. If they broke up, would the base split into "Team Krystal" and "Team Nick"? How much would she lose in sales?

Never again will I date someone so popular, she thought, frustrated. Just fringe guys for me from now on. Like Desi. Nobody knew who the hell he was. And that was as it should be. When it came to her relationships, from now on she should be the only focal point.

Nick was panting when he finally ran backstage for the final time, a towel over his head. The other three Backstreet Boys were hyper, too, and they all exchanged high fives. Then they split to go change. Nick rushed to Krystal. "Hey," he said, "Did you like the show?"

"It was so awesome, Nick," gushed Krystal, pocketing her cell phone quickly before he could see the text Desi had just sent her. He'd asked if she was with Nick. All she'd responded was you'll see. She hugged Nick daintily. "You smell like sweat," she complained.

"I'll go shower," Nick said, "Then we can go to the after party."

"Sounds good," Krystal said. She followed him out to his private bus behind the venue and threw herself onto the bed in the back while he bustled through an open suitcase on the floor. "Casual or nice?" he asked, looking up at her.

"I'm going like this," she answered. She pulled her phone back out to see Desi had answered her again, panicking that she was going to do something extreme. She rolled her eyes at her phone.

Nick held up a pair of jeans and his old Grababootie & Pinch shirt. "How's this?" he asked.

"Whatever," she answered, "It doesn't really matter." He pouted, and she realized her voice was a little too careless to keep him happy. She had to keep him happy. Above all else, she had to be the one that dumped him. No way in hell could she, Krystal Armaleto, he dumped by a Backstreet Boy. In the 90's that would've been acceptable but these days it just wasn't cool. She smiled sexily at him, moving her body into a suggestive position and peering at him through a waterfall of hair. "I mean, we're just going to take it off in the end anyway, right?"

Nick felt himself go hard and he grinned, "So why bother putting it on? We could stay in tonight..." he started to drop the shirt and pants to the floor.

Overkill, Krystal's mind screamed. "Because, we gotta go out, baby," she said, tossing her hair out of her face. "I wanna dance."

"We can dance here," he suggested. Here, I won't be so likely to get drunk again or something, he thought.

Krystal pouted, "Please?"

He couldn't say no to her. "Okay. I'ma shower then we can go. Hold on." He ran into the bathroom and closed the door.

Krystal let out a sigh of relief and rolled over. This was way too much work than Desi was worth. She was going to need a Manhattan the size of its namesake if she was going to get through the night without ripping her hair out of her head.