I stood there watching him. That man was crying out for help and what really got to me was that no one heard. They just fed into his pleas. Everything he did was to try and get the help he needed. It’s that whole feeling of screaming in a crowd and everyone just ignoring it, like you don’t exist. People are so blind. Frustrating beyond belief. I sighed as I made my way through the club. Lights were strobing everywhere to the beat of the thumping music. I glanced around taking in everything around me. This wasn’t exactly my type of scene.
Understatement – it wasn’t even close.
My gaze settled on Nickolas Gene Carter, the youngest member of the Backstreet Boys. He looked so carefree, dancing and surrounded by girls. One was running her hand through his tousled blonde hair; another was running her hands along the sides of his body. And the third was taking a body shot from along his neck. It was sexual chaos and he seemed to be enjoying all of it. Looks can be so deceiving.
I knew then that this wasn’t going to be easy.
Still, I had a job to do.
