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“Destiny can change as often as the wind.”

Let me tell you the story about the call that changed my destiny.

No. Not that call. I already told ya about that. How many times can ya stand to hear that story? Yeesh. Now this call, I’ll never forget for as long as I live. You don’t forget things like this one. I know this is going to be hard to believe, but it’s true. I mean it from the bottom of my heart and all that gooey stuff.

See, it was a few nights before Halloween, just a few years ago. I’d come home from a party feeling a little buzzed (yeah yeah, I know I was underage back then, but it was a party, sue me…just don’t follow my example, kids). Anyway, I was just chillin’. Watchin’ some slasher flick on the tube and all. The last thing I wanted was to get caught up in some boring yak yak yak. But destiny is as destiny does and I answered the phone.

I wasn’t prepared. Who could possibly be prepared for their world to be turned upside down? It would be nice if there were some kind of early warning system that would go off and say “Hey, AJ. You might want to batten down the hatches and prepare for the big old storm that’s about to blow through.”

Instead, my first warning sign that there was a big change on the horizon was that when I answered the phone, instead of hearing a normal greeting, I was met with the sound of someone crying.

Figuring it as a prank, I rolled my eyes and started to hang up. But then I spotted the name on the caller ID. Jonas Farkenblats.

I know you’re thinking to yourself right now, “Who the hell is Jonas Farkenblats.” Hang on a second and I’ll get to that, but let me back up for a moment, first.

Have you ever noticed that destiny changes often start with phone calls? It’s happened to me several times. Like the call I got that said, “hey, kid, we want you to be in this band…” More than a few girlfriends have been made and lost with phone calls.

Another call that changed my life was one that wasn’t even made to me. It was right after we started getting popular in the states. It was really wild for a while there--girls were somehow managing to track down our phone numbers and stuff and calling at all hours. It was new to us, and I don’t know about the others, but…I was rather enjoying it at that time. Until that call. (No, no, not that call…I keep telling ya, this ain’t that story.)

The call was to Nick. Well, let me tell you now, there are prices to fame. He was the first to really experience that. To this day I still don’t know the details of that call. I know that whoever made it was pretty damn sick. And I know that it was serious enough that management had a meeting with us at which they informed us that we were all changing our phone numbers and that we were going to have to start using aliases so that it would be a lot harder for anyone to track us down if we didn’t want to be tracked down.

Well…I don’t really know about Nick since he was the one who got the call and all, but the rest of us found the whole alias thing pretty funny. I went from being AJ McLean to Seymour Butz (It’s pronounced “Boots” thank you very much.) And Kevin became Jonas Farkenb…wait no, Kevin was Atticus Finch. Where’d he come up with that name, huh? No, Jonas was…

“Brian?”

When he didn’t answer, I started getting a little freaked. I know, it was Halloween season and all, but I didn’t even consider that he might be pulling a prank. He’s a good actor, but I was pretty positive that he wasn’t acting. Whatever was wrong had to be pretty terrible.

I was putting on my shoes and heading for my car without him saying so much as a word. “Brian?” I tried again as I put the car in gear and headed out of the driveway. My mind racing, thinking about what could possibly have him so upset. It had to be something pretty major. His heart? Oh, God, he was probably having a heart attack and was dying. “Brian, I’m on my way there…do you need an ambulance or anythi--"

“It’s Nick…” That was all he got out before he went silent again.

Nick? Gawd, what had that kid done this time? I almost stopped and turned home, figuring this for a prank after all. Not that I didn’t like the kid but…well…he was kinda the quintessential little brother. You know you love them, but…mostly in their absence. Given, he’d been gone for a few days; went home for a few days while we were on break. He was due back that night. And he was already up to his old tricks.

Still, something about the way Brian was acting made me keep driving. Nick must have done something pretty terrible to make Brian this upset.

“Hang on, Bri. I’m already on the way, I’ll see ya in a few.”

I was really going to have to kill the kid.

As it turned out, someone had already beaten me to that.

No, really. Come back here! I’m not done with the story yet! I swear this is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth! Well, I guess I’ve probably approximated a lot of the conversation and stuff, but other than that!

I know what you’re thinking, here. You’re thinking, “Gosh a plate of nachos would be yummy right now.” Oh wait, that’s me. What you’re thinking is, “Nick isn’t dead.”

And you’re right.

Well…sort of.

About 10 seconds after I pulled into Brian’s driveway, Kevin’s car swung into the drive. I waited for him to catch up.

“Any idea what’s going on?” I asked as we headed up to the door, both feeling as if it were doomsday or something.

He sighed and shook his head, looking worried and annoyed all at once. “Just something about Nicky…”

Howie was already ahead of us and he opened the door as we approached. “Hey,” he greeted in a very quiet voice. He looked as though he’d aged about 10 years in one night. And didn’t have any fun whatsoever doing it.

“What’s…?”

Howie shook his head and waved us into the house. “You guys better sit down,” he said quietly, motioning us into the den where Brian was seated on the sofa. He wasn’t crying anymore, but it was clear that he was still in distress.

Kevin sank down on the sofa next to Brian, but I chose to remain standing for the moment.

Brian remained silent, he didn’t even really look at either of us. Kevin looked up questioningly at Howie and I, then looked back to Brian.

“Brian…?” he asked softly.

Brian looked up at last. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“Nick…he…his plane went down.”

Kevin flinched. He licked his lips, waiting for Brian to continue. When his cousin didn’t, Kevin glanced up at Howie again for a moment, then turned his attention back to Brian. “People can survive plane crashes…” he tried to soothe.

Brian nodded. “He did.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. At least he was alive.

“It…landed at the top of this cliff…” Uh oh. Kevin and I exchanged glances. “They said he…uh…fell. About…150 feet…” Was that all? How many stories was that…oh jeez…

“He could have survived that,” Kevin tried again, sounding a little more doubtful.

“He did,” Howie assured us, though he didn’t sound all that happy. Well, odds were, Nick had to have been pretty hurt after crashing and then falling…

I’ll say one thing for the kid, though, he’s damn resilient. Despite all the 10000 colds and flu’s he suffered every single year.

“He…they said that he crawled…” Brian continued after a moment. “He broke both his legs…and some other stuff…” That kid had a lot of guts. I beamed with pride. And it could have been a lot worse. Of course, it would probably take him a really long time to heal and all. Possibly never be able to do all the dance moves and stuff again. Well, at least it was an excuse to tone that stuff down. No more damn dance class. Thank you, Nickolas! “He made it to this campsite, I guess…” Well, good. I’m sure the campers got him picked up and to the hospital. “But…it was dark. They couldn’t see him. He…couldn’t talk I guess, but was making some noise…” Get to the point, Brian. “They…um…thought he was a bear.” I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Poor kid. Drags himself to safety and--"They shot him.” The urge to laugh disappeared immediately.

“People can survive…?” Kevin tried his phrase once again.

“He did,” I murmured. He had to have. Fortunately, Howie nodded.

Okay, so the poor kid had survived a plane crash, falling off a cliff, dragging himself across rough country with 2 broken legs, and getting shot all on the same night. Dang, kid! I sat down, shaking my head. If it weren’t true, it’d be damn funny. I was about to ask which hospital he was in when Brian continued the story.

“They apparently threw this tarp over him. They still thought he was a bear, I guess…” Well, it would keep him warm. Unfortunately, at that point, I was fairly sure where this story was going to end. “They…they ran him over with their jeep.”

“People can…” Kevin didn’t even finish that time.

“Twice,” Brian clarified. Aw man. “He’s…dead.”

Nicky dead? Little Nicky?

It was a good thing there was a chair right behind me to catch my fall. I sank into the chair and stared at Brian for a few moments. I wanted to believe that it was just a lie. It had to be. A stupid prank that Brian and Nick cooked up to freak us all out for Halloween. Nobody could possibly really survive that much shit only to die in the end.

But Brian wasn’t kidding. Nick was really dead.

The funeral was a few hellishly long days later. On Halloween itself, if you can believe it. It was Nicky’s favorite holiday, so it was fitting, you know?

I know what you’re thinking now. You’re thinking that this can’t possibly be true because you’re just sure that you never heard about Nick’s being dead and there being a funeral and all that, right? Well…think about it. How many times have you read a story about your favorite celebrity being killed in a car crash or something only to find out that it wasn’t true. In fact, there was a news story about Nick’s death. It was a pretty huge story, in fact. Fans everywhere were freaking out. You probably did, too. Until you found out it was all a ‘fake’ story. And then you probably forgot all about it because it wasn’t true (or so you thought). Think back, I’m sure you’ll remember.

We actually did try to keep the story from getting out at first. We were going to go public after the funeral. We wanted to have time to grieve and to let Nick’s family hold the burial ceremony in private. We didn’t want to have a ton of hysterical fans upsetting the Carters any more than they already were. And we wanted time for ourselves, too. Of course, someone saw us all gathered at the cemetery and put two and two together so the story was in the tabloids just a couple days later. But, of course, that story was discredited shortly.

Don’t look at me like that! This is all true! How did we discredit the story? He was dead, right? Right. He was most definitely dead. He’d broken just about every bone in his body. No pulse. No heartbeat. No breath. Nothing. Nada. Deceased. Dead as a doornail. Kicked the bucket. Bought the farm. He was pushing up daisies. All those cliché phrases about being dead. Yes, on October 31st, he was dead and we buried him.

So, back to the question: how did we discredit the story? I’m getting to that.

The funeral was awful. One of the worst experiences of my life. It was so hard seeing Nicky in that box. Despite the fact that his body was pretty much mangled beyond all recognition, his head was intact and looked almost normal. Well…as normal as Nick ever looks anyway.

I admit it. I cried. So did the other fellas. The past few days had been hard, but nothing compared to watching them close the coffin the final time. The Carter clan was pretty much inconsolable. I think that of all of us, though, Kevin was the one who took it the worst. That may surprise you, I suppose. There are lots of people who think that Nick and Kevin just don’t get along that great most of the time. And that’s sort of true. They’re so much alike in a lot of ways--including that they can both be bull-headed and stubborn. But even through that, they had a pretty strong bond. Kevin being the oldest and Nick being the youngest…they kind of took on the roles of over-protective big brother and pesky-puppydog-little brother. And I think Kevin felt guilty for all the fighting he and the kid always seemed to do. So…he took it pretty hard, thinking that Nicky probably died thinking that Kev hated him.

After the burial, the four of us fellas headed back to Brian’s. None of us really wanted to go home to our empty houses. Or think about the press conference we were going to have to do to tell the world that Nick was dead. Or think about our future. We didn’t even discuss what we were going to do about the band. It didn’t matter anymore. It was always a band of five, not ever a band of four. As far as I was concerned, and I think the other fellas agreed--though we never discussed it--Backstreet was dead, too.

For a long time that night, we all just sat in Brian’s den. Not speaking. Just sitting. Doing nothing. Except for Kevin.

Kevin paced.

Back and forth back and forth and backandforthandbackandforthandback.

By the time he stopped moving, he had gotten a fairly wild look in his eyes. He sank down on the sofa next to Brain, a slightly crazed smile crossing his face.

Howie and I exchanged worried glances, fearing Kevin’s sanity.

“We have to do something,” Kevin spoke for the first time in hours.

“Do what, Kevin?” Howie asked softly, trying to be supportive as always. “You mean like a…farewell concert or something?”

Kevin looked slightly annoyed and he shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. I mean about Nick. We have to do something about Nick.”

“He’s dead, Kevin,” Brian said tiredly. “What do you want us to do about him?”

Kevin’s mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but then it shut again without a word being spoken. He got up and started pacing once more. “Show me the way. Give me a sign…” he kept muttering to himself until once again he sank onto the sofa. Then he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.

Yeah, that was really doing something. But we were all pretty drained, physically and emotionally. So, it didn’t seem all that weird to just sit there until we fell asleep.

I’m not sure what time it was when Kevin woke me up. It was dark; that was all I knew.

“AJ! Wake up!” he called, slapping my cheeks slightly.

“Damn it, Kev…” I opened my eyes grouchily. “What?!” I growled at him before my eyes focused and I got a better look. He looked positively wired. Like short circuited probably even.

“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed. He was pacing again in a moment. “I know what we have to do…”

“I’m getting dizzy here, Kev, want to stop and tell me--" But he just kept pacing and muttering. “You got me up for this? Kev…why don’t you try getting some sleep…”

“No, AJ! I…I had this dream.” Oh great. He kept pacing. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes so I could try to focus a little. Just kept pacing. Muttering. Muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “If you build him, they will come,” but I’m sure I just imagined that.

“Kev…”

“We’ve got the technology!” he stopped pacing at last as he turned to me. “We can build him better than he was before. Faster. Stronger. Better!”

Which is how, twenty minutes later, I found myself in the cemetery digging up Nick’s body. Most specifically, his head. The rest was pretty much a total loss. Which was why Howie and Brian were there, too…digging up other bodies. Yeeech.

Halloween. I could have been out partying. Dressed up as a vampire maybe. Or a serial killer or something. But there I was…playing Igor in the local cemetery. This was nuts. I kept imagining the police coming and catching us, throwing us in jail and us having to answer the question: “So…what’re you in for?”

After a really disgusting hour or so of salvaging body parts, we returned to Brian’s house.

Kevin had officially gone off the deep end.

He’d moved into the attic. Well…into what used to be the attic. It was now kind of a room with a very big sunroof. Or in this case, a giant hole in the ceiling. He had several of Brian’s household appliances flung throughout the room, including the microwave and a waffle iron. And I’m pretty sure that the table he’d constructed was made from the big steel door off Brian’s new refrigerator.

Over the course of the next half hour or so, I watched in…awe? Bewilderment? I don’t know, but I watched as Kevin began throwing body parts onto the table and piecing them together, attaching pieces using kitchen utensils of all things. It was…really pretty disgusting. Especially when Kevin was placing the internal organs in. I’m pretty sure that Kevin had lost his mind completely. And I think by that time Brian, Howie, and I were only a fraction of a step behind. I mean…we’d dug up bodies for God’s sake. How sane can you be after doing that?

At last Kevin stepped back, examining his work.

Yech.

“Well…at least we can afford to hire a plastic surgeon…” I muttered. Not that this was going to work anyway, I reminded myself, though I was really hoping that it would. Of course I wanted Nick back, but not just that--I ‘d hate to have dug up bodies for nothing.

“So um…now what?” Brian asked, looking at Kevin expectantly.

“Now, I start calling around and getting a plastic surgeon here…” I answered for him as I pulled out my cell phone.

Kevin frowned, but ignored me. “Well…it’s really supposed to be raining now so that we can get his heart going…” He looked up through the hole in the room and frowned. Not a sign of rain. At least Brian didn’t seem all that mad about the hole.

Kevin stared up at the hole for a long while before he got a frustrated look on his face and started pacing again.

While he did that, I made a few phone calls. Mostly to old girlfriends. Trying to find one that could recommend a good surgeon. After a few more calls, I had one who agreed to come, and who would agree to absolute secrecy.

Howie, in the meantime, was busy with the microwave. I didn’t want to know what he was possibly cooking at that time, so I didn’t pay much attention until he made a triumphant yell. A moment later, he turned to us. “Brian! The waffle iron!”

I watched as Brian got the waffle iron and Howie handed him a wire. “Attach that to there…then--" he motioned toward Nick’s body on the table.

Brian gave Howie a strange look, but did as he was told, placing the waffle iron in Nick’s chest, encasing his heart.

“Now stand back!” Howie directed. We all did. He looked at the microwave a few moments before reaching out and pressing the “Muffin” button. Not what I would have chosen. A muffin? What’s up with that?

We all held our breaths as we watched a little spark travel up the wire…and fizzle out.

“Try popcorn,” I suggested after it became clear that “muffin” had no effect.

“No,” Kevin stopped him, his voice authoritative. Insane, but authoritative. He pushed Howie away. “This is Nick. The choice is obvious.” He reached out and pressed the “Pizza” button.

We watched as once again a spark traveled up the wire. And then another. And another. The wire began snapping. And flashing. And burning. Yikes!

And then Nick’s body began to twitch.

More than twitch.

“It’s alive! Alive!!!” Kevin cackled.

“Um…he’s alive. Alive,” Brian corrected as he cautiously inched closer to the body on the table. “He’s not an it.

“Nick?”

Nick’s mouth opened slightly and he made a weird gurgling noise.

Aw man…we forgot about brain damage. His brain had been without oxygen for…how many days? Aw man, he’d be like this vegetable or something. I frowned and stepped closer. His eyes flew open and he looked at me. “Hey…Nicky.”

Nick’s mouth started moving, but still no intelligible noises came out.

“What is it, Frack? Buddy?” Brian asked.

After a few failed attempts at speech, Nick managed to rasp out something that sounded like, “My…hrt…”

“You’re alive!”

“Qww. It…” Quit? It sounded like he was trying to say quit.

“Quit what?” I asked.

“My…hrt…”

“I think he’s saying something about his heart,” Howie whispered

Awwww, his scrambled brain remembered our music. I began humming the tune.

“Nooo!” he growled and I stopped humming immediately. “My…HRT!” He began flailing his arms wildly, knocking away the spare utensils and kitchen appliances. “Gaaaaaah!” He managed to sit up stiffly and reached out and grabbed the wire that connected the waffle iron to the microwave and--oh!

Howie figured it out at the same time and quickly unplugged the microwave so that it would stop sending sparks into Nick’s heart.

Kevin pushed Nick back down flat, pulled out the waffle iron, and started stitching up the gaping hole in Nick’s chest. Which, oddly, Nick hadn’t seemed to mind that much. Scrambled brains.

As soon as Kevin was done stitching, Nick began struggling to get up again. Kevin tried to keep him down, but Nick pushed him away and got up. “You need to rest!” Kevin protested.

“Naaaa.” Nick grunted. “Oos.”

“Rest!” Kevin insisted.

“Naaaaa. Ooooos.”

Nick shoved Kevin hard enough to knock him down. Howie and I scrambled back out of the way as Nick pushed past us, grabbing up the microwave and then stomping down the stairs, leaving the four of us to stare after him.

For a moment we just looked at the empty doorway, then at each other for a few moments longer.

“Well…at least he’s alive,” Brian said, breaking into a big smile.

“Naaaaaaa! Oooooos!” we heard Nick bellow from downstairs.

“We’ve created a monster,” Howie was the first to admit it aloud.

“Yeah but…he’s our monster,” Brian countered. His face lit up. “Frackenstein!”

About that time, we heard a loud bang from downstairs and quickly went down to find out what Frack was up to.

We found him in the kitchen. He was trying to open a cabinet, but it seemed like his arms weren’t working right and he couldn’t get the door open. “Naaaa….ooos…” He looked at us unhappily.

“It’ll get better,” I assured him. “There’s a surgeon coming tomorrow…” His eyes narrowed and he glared at me.

“Whhhiii. Srrrrr. Gnn.”

Brian put an arm around his shoulders and started walking him away from the kitchen. “You look just fine. We’re just gonna…get you cleaned up. Now, it’s been a long day…you probably need to get some sleep.”

It took a few moments for me to realize that the noises Frack had made had been the question, “Why surgeon?” but Brian was apparently already used to Frack-speech.

Frack allowed Brian to lead him away from the kitchen, but I heard him saying, “Naaaa ooos,” sadly as he was shuffled away.

“You do realize that we’re going to have to come up with an explanation about why Nick’s um...” Howie trailed off.

“Nick’s what? Nick’s Nick. He’s always like that,” I said, only half kidding. Sure he wasn’t talking too clear, and it seemed he had a bit more of a temper, but still. If he could still sing, nobody would ever notice.

“Guys!” Brian yelled from the other room. “Guys, help!”

“Naaaa. Oooos!”

Okay, I was in total denial. I admit it. There was no way that anybody wouldn’t notice the change in Nick.

“No! Frack!” We heard the front door slam. We’d just unleashed a monster on the world. “Guys!”

We were so dead.

There was a loud crashing outside the door. “Naaaaa oooooooos!” We heard Frack’s odd mantra getting quieter as he moved farther away from the house.

“We…uh…better go after him,” Howie stated the obvious.

“No. We should give him some space,” Kevin countered, stopping Howie and Brian before they took off after him. “He was dead…now he’s not. That’s got to be a lot to deal with,” Kevin added. “Just give him some space for a bit. He’ll calm down and come home soon. He always does,” he reminded us.

“Yeah. Let’s give him some space,” I agreed. Well, honestly, I thought Howie was right, but…I was tired. Give me a break. Like you wouldn’t take the lazy way out? Besides, the kid was already dead, what harm could he possibly do now?

An hour later, I found out.

I’d fallen asleep again, but woke up to the sound of approaching chaos (specifically approaching Kaos.)

“Naaaa ooos!” It was quiet the first time I heard it. Probably not quiet exactly, but…far away. But approaching fast.

“Oh my God it’s Nick!!!!” a voice screamed piercingly.

“NIIICKKK!!!”

I could hear the hysterical screams getting louder as the mob started getting closer. I ran to the window to see what was coming.

Frack was coming up the street at a fast lurch, a grocery bag tucked under his arm. He was moving faster as behind him at a slowly narrowing distance, there was…the mob.

Waving torches and pitchforks as they closed in. Well, okay, it was flashlights, and there was really only the pitchfork of a couple of kids that were dressed as devils for Halloween, but…there were pitchforks!

Nick lurched faster as he made his way up the front walk.

Brian threw open the door and pulled Frack inside, slamming the door shut behind him. “Quick! Block the door!” he yelled as he started grabbing things to throw in front of the door to slow the mob down.

“NIIIIICKK!!!!” The screams were just outside the door now.

“Naaaaa oooos!” Frack cried happily as he ripped open his grocery bag to reveal a bag of chips, cheese, and jalapenos. He headed into the kitchen…apparently to fix nachos…while the rest of us worked to block the door to keep the lynch mob outside. They banged on the doors and windows. Screaming for Nick, and eventually for the rest of us as they realized that we were in the house, too. It took hours for the mob to disperse. Especially after Nick finished his naa oos (nachos) and decided to go out on the balcony to wave to his fans.

Hours and a squadron of police cars that were called out to quiet people down passed. By the time the plastic surgeon arrived, there were only a few stragglers left hanging around outside.

“Tell Nick that’s an awesome costume!” one of them yelled as I opened the door to let in the doctor.

“I…will…” I shook my head as I closed the door on the last of the mob. I swear sometimes fans are the weirdest creatures on earth…except maybe for Frack.

The doctor turned out to be really amazing. He was able to perform the surgery and got Nick looking almost back to normal again. There were a few problems where it seemed, but after hours and hours of work, he declared himself done. There were only a few scars here and there. And he informed us that the reason Nick hadn’t been talking right was that he’d had a displaced jaw.

Once that was fixed, Nick was good as new.

Well…almost.

There were a few lingering problems.

Like…after a few weeks we started noticing that uh…well…some of Frack’s new body parts weren’t faring as well as others. The first thing we had to replace was his left arm. The first one was starting to mold.

After that it was one of his legs.

It seemed that every other week I was out there in the closest graveyard digging up some new part or another.

I really didn’t think it was going to work--swapping out body parts every so often. Surely people would notice. And they did to some extent. You probably did, too.

Didn’t you notice how for a while there every time you saw a picture of Nick he looked way different? The papers always said that it was about fluxuating weight and the awkward teen phase. It was only a matter of time, we figured, before someone realized that it was more than that.

It was Nick himself who came up with the idea of putting tattoos on body parts. That way there would always be something consistent. See, if people saw a tattoo of Charlie the Tuna (okay a shark, but it looks like Charlie don’t it?) on Nick’s arm, they wouldn’t question that the arm had changed because that tattoo was always the same, right? Right.

And it’s worked.

It’s been gross and really annoying having to scrounge for parts. And sooner or later somebody is going to notice that every time the BSB comes through town another body disappears from the local morgue or the nearby cemetery.

But it’s worked.

And the world has never known. Until now.

It’s true. Every word.

I swear.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

[AN: Okay, so it kinda sucked, but…I really wanted to get a story out for Halloween this year…lol. This was also done as answer to a challenge from a friend of mine. The requirements were using quotes from at least three BSB songs somewhere within the text, an explanation for Nick’s tattoos, the phrase “We have the technology. We can build him better than he was before. Stronger. Faster. Better.”, a character reference from To Kill a Mockingbird, an obsession with nachos, and unique use of kitchen appliances. If any of you want to tackle the challenge, feel free--I'd love to see someone else’s take on it. So anyway…thanks for reading! Stay tuned for The Bride of Frackenstein! (Just kidding. Not really going to write that…I don’t think…But I will *finally* be updating my other stories soon! It’s true. I mean it. From the bottom of my heart ;) –Chaos]