~*~August’s point of view~*~

I had woken up that next morning wondering if it had been a dream or not. Was this what living in Orlando was like? Like the people in Hollywood and L.A. who got used to seeing celebrities walking down the street on a daily basis. I couldn’t imagine getting used to seeing a Backstreet Boy. No matter how many times Brian ever popped up out of nowhere, that part of me that adored their music would always be screaming.

Luckily I could keep that piece of me under control. It was a little weird, since he didn’t seem aware of the fact that I was a fan. But he was a Backstreet Boy. Who wasn’t a fan of theirs? I didn’t really see how it mattered, as long as I didn’t start writing his name on my face with glitter and start brandishing “thank Heaven for Kevin” signs or something absurd.

Just the same, I’d frozen when he asked me out. I couldn’t say yes simply because he was who he was. I’d had to set that obnoxious part of me aside. As well as screaming, it was also constantly reminding me, “He’s Brian Littrell!” But he was so down to earth. He was one of those people that you instantly felt like you’d known forever.

“Where’s your stuff?” Carmen had asked when she’d gotten home that night.

“Oh. I forgot to get anything.”

“What were you doing there all night then?”

Three days later, and I still hadn’t lived it down. I’d gotten caught up in the game.

“What are you doing?” I walked into the living room. Carmen was sitting on the couch.

“Watching the shopping network. Aren’t those diamond earrings gorgeous? Only a few payments…”

I rolled my eyes. “You need to find a cheaper hobby.”

“You need to find a hobby,” she shot back. “Has that guy called?”

“No,” I sat down next to her and sighed. I’d been jumping up every time the phone rang.

What if I’d written down the number wrong? I’d only just memorized it. Although I’d checked with Carmen since then. Or what if he’d lost it? What were the odds I’d ever run into him again?

“Well, just forget about him. If he hasn’t called by now…”

“No he’ll call. You don’t know him…”

“You don’t know him either,” she laughed.

I’d… forgotten to mention to her that Brian was the Brian she was always listening to when I played Millennium for her. “It’s not like I forced him to get my number. I was about to get out of his car.” I’d been so nervous.

“Well his window of opportunity is slowly closing. What? He too busy to call or something.”

She was going to find out sooner or later. “He’s a Backstreet Boy.”

“Say what?” she turned away from her earrings and turned off the TV. “A who?”

“Brian from the Backstreet Boys.”

“No. Freaking. Way.”

But she was right. If he hadn’t called already, he probably wasn’t going to. And he could hang out with anyone in the world. How random would it be to want to spend time with me? A college student. We were in completely different places in our lives…

“August… August,” Carmen waved a hang in front of my face.

“Wha…” The phone was ringing.

She went to the kitchen and grabbed the cordless off of the phone. “Hello?... August… hmm, does an August live here…” Carmen looked like she was about to say no.

I sent her a look of death.

“May I ask who’s calling?... Brian…” she said to herself, and then louder to me, “August, do you know a Brian?”

“Give me the phone!” I snatched it from her.

“Oh, you’re no fun,” she grinned.

I took a deep breath. “Hello?”

“August? This is Brian, hey.”

He sounded just as wonderful on the phone.

“Sorry I didn’t call sooner, but I’ve been… out of town working.”

Duh, I smacked myself on the forehead. The man’s CD hadn’t even been out a month. The fact that he’d been in town for two consecutive days over the weekend had been a miracle. “Oh, that’s okay.”

“I know this is short notice, but I’m leaving town again tomorrow and I’ll be gone for about a week. So I was going to see what you were doing tonight.”

“Absolutely nothing.” Like that didn’t make me sound like a complete loser.

“Great! I should be able to get out of here around 6:30, so I could swing by and pick you up around seven.”

I wondered where “here” was. “Okay. Do you remember how to get to the apartment complex?”

“Yeah, I think so. If you get a phone call and someone’s screaming ‘help, I’m lost!’ you’ll know who it is.”

I laughed. “We’re 304, in the first building on the left.”

“Got it. Hopefully, I’ll see you at seven. Sorry if I end up being a little late.”

“No problem… I’ll see you tonight.”

“Bye!”

I hung up, and realized that Carmen had resumed her spot on the couch, simply listening to the conversation.

“Oh, I thought you went into your room.” It couldn’t diminish the smile on my face.

“And miss this? Please. So I take it that went well?”

“I guess,” I said nonchalantly.

“You guess? There are practically hearts in your eyes.

“We’re going out to dinner tonight. As soon as he gets off… work, I assume.”

“Work? He’s a BS Boy. His idea of working is counting his millions that he makes off of teenyboppers like you.”

“What a typical NSYNC fan,” I rolled my eyes. “You act like he’s lazy and the money just fell into his hands.”

“Being famous can’t be too difficult. They have secretaries and managers to do everything for them…”

“Our groups are managed by the same people, my dear. If you’re calling my Boys lazy, then the same goes for your copycat group.” I gave her a triumphant look.

“Yeah, I know. But I love my Lance Bass anyway. Once we’re married, I can help him count his millions…”

“It’s a good thing he didn’t have to work hard for it, or he might be resentful when you start spending it all on random stuff you buy off the shopping network, Mrs. Bass,” I laughed. “And just for the record, BSB paved the way for your group.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And I’m not a teenybopper.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the poster hanging on the back of your door.”

I hadn’t realized she’d seen that.

“I didn’t realize that boy banders dated fans. Just more hope for me and Lance then,” she grinned, going to the refrigerator. She grabbed two cans of soda and passed me one.

“Oh, actually… the fact that he’s in the group hasn’t come up. So don’t mention if, okay? For some reason, he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Interesting. So he doesn’t know you like them?”

“No, not that that really matters. It just means I’m getting to know him as Brian, not Brian Littrell the Backstreet Boy.”

“Right. They’re the same person. You can’t tell me when he asked you out, you weren’t thinking, Oh my God, he’s famous!”

“Of course not.”

But she didn’t believe me. And I thought back to that voice that had been saying exactly that, and I wasn’t sure I could believe myself.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

7:15.

And I was nervous. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been on a date. This semester had been too hectic, with starting a new school, classes, and everything else. And this was with a Backstreet Boy. Well, not that this was necessarily a date. We were just.. hanging out. I was probably over thinking the entire thing.

He’d told me he might be late, so at least I wasn’t (too) worried he just wouldn’t show up. But the anticipation was killing me. Why me, I kept thinking. He didn’t know me that well. I was five and a half years younger. A college student, whereas he was already on the height of his career…

I told myself to shut up. I was beginning to replay these things in my mind. I turned on the radio, to have something else to think about.

7:25.

Where the heck was he? I paced back and forth in the living room.

The doorbell rang. I took a deep breath and answered it.

“Hey! I am so sorry… I really thought I could get out of there sooner. It’s just been so hectic lately, and it’s not going to get better any time soon,” he said, more to himself than to me. He looked tired but pleased. As if he was sure that all the hard work was worth it.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. You can’t say you didn’t warn me,” I grabbed my purse.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s your roommate tonight?”

“She found some guy to take her to a movie.” I laughed, “I don’t think she could stand the idea of sitting at home, when I had a…” I paused.

Brian just grinned. “A date?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said, blushing more. “So, um, she left a little while ago.”

“I guess she goes out a lot?” he asked, as I locked the door behind me and we headed to the parking lot.

“Does Michael Jordan score a lot of baskets?”

“So what about you?”

“I tend to put classes and work first. I just haven’t had much time.”

He nodded. “Same here. Especially with the last girlfriend I had… well, I work a lot. So I’ve been focusing on that.” He looked bitter. I wanted to know what had happened, but I could tell that he didn’t want to talk about it.

“So where are we going?”

Brian blinked back to the present conversation and whatever had been on his mind was quickly set aside. “I’m not that hungry, to be honest with you.”

“Me neither.” What a relief. I was too nervous to eat a whole meal.

“Wanna go get some coffee or something?”

“Uh… sure.”

“What was that look for?”

“Huh?” I asked, innocently.

Brian continued to stare.

“I just don’t really drink coffee… but I could get something else.”

“No worries… Umm… Ice cream?”

“Sure.”

“You like ice cream, right? You’re not just being agreeable.”

I laughed. “No, ice cream sounds great. Especially since I’m not used to summer in Florida. It’d be great if it could start snowing now or something.”

“Snowing? Even if it were December, I don’t think you’d have any chance of that!”

We arrived at an ice cream parlor a little later. Lots of other people had obviously had the same idea, so there was a line already formed in front of the counter.

“What do you want?”

I looked at the list. “The banana split looks good…” I glanced at the picture. “But I don’t think I could eat all that, so how about…”

“Do you wanna split it?”

“Split the split?” I laughed.

He laughed dramatically, and then instantly changed his expression to one that was completely serious.

“Ha. Ha,” I said flatly.

“I’m just playing,” he put his arm around me in a friendly gesture.

Such a simply action, but I could feel my heart beat faster.

Brian got up to the cash register. “One banana split, two spoons, please,” he told her cashier.

He is so polite, I thought.

I started getting out my wallet as we headed to a deck on the side of the building, with chairs and tables set up under colorful umbrellas.

“Now what are you doing? This is my treat.”

“Are you sure?”

He grinned, obviously surprised. I guess people didn’t offer to pay very often when with him. I was sure that with Millennium sales being what they were, it was no inconvenience to purchase a four dollar dessert, but it was the principal of the thing.

“Yes, I’m sure. Besides, if I’m paying, I won’t feel so bad about this,” he took the one cherry from the top and hovered it in front of his mouth, about to eat it.

I opened my mouth but didn’t say anything.

Brian sighed. “Here,” he said.

“No, you take it. I didn’t say a word.”

“You don’t have to. It’s all in your eyes. You’re practically an open book… and I guess I’m a sucker for that sad look you were giving me,” he smiled.

I took the cherry, dipping it in whipped cream before eating it.

“Well, now that’s just rubbing it in!” he said, pointedly taking a big bite of chocolate ice cream.

“I’m sure you’ll survive.”

After a minute, he said, “Well this is much better than coffee.”

“I concur.”

“Well, of course. You don’t even like coffee, so, sorry, but you’re opinion doesn’t count.”

“What? That’s not fair. I object!”

“Sorry, objection denied. The vote was unanimous.”

“Unanimous? It’s just you…”

“Exactly, and I happen to agree with myself.”

I held up a spoonful of strawberry ice, as if to use it as a catapult. “You are impossible sometimes, you know that?”

“Once again, you’re opinion doesn’t matter. I say I’m not impossible, and once again the jury rules in favor of me. Another unanimous vote. Imagine that!” He made a funny face. “So, what are you majoring in?”

“English. Well, creative writing specifically.”

“So what do you want to be when you ‘grow up’?”

“Older,” I joked. “No, I want to write for a living. I think. Journalism? I don’t know for sure.”

A look similar to the one I’d seen earlier tonight flashed in his eyes. I wish I could read him as easily as he apparently could read me. Wondering why we were suddenly treading on more dangerous territory, I said, “I’d ask you the same question, but you’ve already grown up.”

“Hey, you’re making me sound ancient. Like I’m thirty or something!” I never got tired of hearing his laugh. It was so easy and honest.

“Well, you’re not a teenager anymore, that’s old enou- mmph.” He shoved some ice cream into my mouth.

“It was time to cut the jokes off at the source! And if I recall, you’re teenage days are numbered come August, August.”

“But you’ll always be older. I’ll just have to change ‘being old’ to being old enough to drink once I hit my birthday. And so on and so forth…”

“What? No, you’re not allowed to do that.”

“Oh, sorry, you’re already in your twenties, so you’re opinion doesn’t count. The decision is unanimous!”

He looked impressed. “Ouch. Alright, one point August!”

Just then, a little girl walked up. She looked to be about six years old, with pigtails and a bright pink dress on.

He flashed one his friendly, never met a stranger smiles. “Well, what can I do for you?”

She held up a napkin and a pen. “Could I have your autograph?”

An autograph? I wondered why in the world she was asking him that, and then I remembered. I was having so much fun talking to him that I’d forgotten who he was. Well, more like I’d forgotten what he was.

“Sure. What’s your name?”

“Jessica.”

He grabbed the pen, and signed the napkin for her.

“Thanks, Brian!” she gave him a quick hug, and ran back to two teenage girls who looked to be her older sisters. “See!” she said, loud enough to cause them to look mortified. “I told you it was him!”

Brian laughed and turned back to me.

“That was adorable.”

“So… You know that job I keep talking about? Sometimes it follows me around. It’s not exactly a nine to five day job.”

“I can see that.”

“I guess you’ve realized I’m a Backstreet Boy, or you’d be sending me a clueless look right now.”

“I didn’t at first,” I told him, honestly. “But you guys had your own cardboard cut-out display at Walmart that we passed several times last weekend… But you hadn’t mentioned it, so I didn’t want to bring it up.”

“Yeah. When I’m not working, I want to concentrate on other things, you know?”

I nodded again. That wasn’t hard to understand. I couldn’t imagine people coming up to me when I was enjoying free time and asking about Shakespeare’s romantic comedies or the evolution of the novel. I started to tell him that I’d beaten myself up over not recognizing him sooner. It was so funny and ironic. But just then, the sisters had found the courage to approach him, too, and he ended up signing two more napkins.

“So am I allowed to ask where Nick got it into his head to carry out that crazy list, or does that fall under talking about your job?” I said when I had an opportunity to talk again.

There were a million questions about the Backstreet Boys I would’ve loved to ask, but I wanted to respect his privacy.

Brian laughed. “The way Nick’s mind works is one of the greatest mysteries of all time.”

We sat there talking long after the banana split was finished off. His career didn’t come up again, which I don’t think he minded.

“Well…” he looked at his watch.

“Yeah, it’s getting late… well, sort of,” I laughed. The clock read nine o’clock.

“Sorry, I’ve got a full day ahead of me again tomorrow. And a plane to catch.” He looked like he hated to see the date end.

So did I. There hadn’t been an awkward silence all night.

“Yeah, I have a busy day ahead of me, too,” I said, throwing away the bowl and heading towards his jeep. “Carmen doesn’t have to work tomorrow, so we’ll probably sleep in… Eat lunch. Watch TV. Eat dinner. Go to bed…”

“Wow, why didn’t you say so? I shouldn’t have kept you out so late,” he said sarcastically. “What was I thinking?”

He opened the door to the jeep for me, and I thought about how polite he was once again.

“So is your schedule going to be that hectic all summer?” he asked.

“No.”

“Oh, good.”

“It’ll probably get worse,” I sighed. “I may have to sleep in, but still cram breakfast into my morning. I don’t know how I can do it!... No, seriously, I’m going to be working this summer. Maybe do an internship if I still can. But I’m going to enjoy my week off while I can.”

We got back, and he ended up walking me back to the door.

“I had a great time tonight.”

“Me, too.”

“You’re not just being agreeable again, are you?”

“You’re right… I had a horrible time. You just seem to lead such a dull life!”

“Are you always this quick-witted, or do I need to take you somewhere with less sugar next time?”

He said next time! I thought happily. “Well, we all have our talents.”

“Can I call you again sometime? In between… being out of town and meetings…”

“You know the number. I’ll be here, watching TV!” I joked.

“Good night.” He hesitated. Finally he said good night again, and I headed back inside, waiting for Carmen to get home so that I could tell her all about it.