The next day, I went to work and wrote up the other 4 reviews. Then I stared at the computer screen for a while thinking about what to write about Roz. I wrote the piece about 5 times before coming up with anything that I found even remotely publishable. I decided that draft was going to be the last one. I'd give it to Dave to let him decide if I needed to rewrite it yet again. It was time to leave for my special assignment anyway. I cleared up my desk and started toward the door.

"Lisa, wait! Wait a minute." I cringed as Amber caught up to me at the door. "You got a story huh? Since you're on your way out so early?" I knew what was coming next, so I didn't answer. "So, you think I could come along on this story? I still think there's a lot I could learn from you." I wanted to laugh, so I chose my words carefully.

"Actually Amber, I was told, by Dave, to do this one myself. So, not today. I realize you're new and everything and I'm the only other female reporter, but I think you should probably get some experience with somebody who has more than me." Amber looked sort of stunned, but I had finally told her what I felt. "I'll see you tomorrow." I said and waved and walked out the door.

The sky was dreary as I pulled my car into a parking space in front of a dark red brick building and shut off the ignition. I looked at the address again, just to make sure I knew where I was going and opened the car door. My camera bag and notebook were in the backseat, so I grabbed them and shut the door, before looking around me. �This is definitely not the nicest neighborhood,' I thought warily. �Why do I always end up with these stories. Dave probably sent me on this one just because it's not worthy of anybody better in his eyes. Ugh.'

I sighed as I walked toward the building and up the stairs, moving my limp bangs out of my eyes. "Here goes," I whispered as I opened the big glass door. I wasn't sure what exactly I expected to see inside, but what I saw was definitely not it.

It was a beautifully decorated warehouse type building. In one quarter of the space was a closed off area that I assumed must be the studio, since the paper Dave had given me said the story was about a new recording company. The rest was a wide open space, decorated totally in music memorabilia of all types. I couldn't do anything but stare around me at all the stuff that covered the walls.

"Excuse me?!" I jumped slightly and turned around because I hadn't heard the man come up behind me. "Hi, I'm Lisa from Tampa Beat. I'm supposed to be interviewing . . . Kevin?!" I was slightly intimidated by the guy standing in front of me, not simply because he stood at around 6 feet tall, which made him almost a foot taller then myself, but because he actually fit the tall, dark and handsome description perfectly. And his voice had a quality that would have made me shiver, if I wasn't already nervous about the interview. Something about him seemed really familiar as well, although I couldn't put my finger on it.

"That's me," he said with a faint smile. "Do you want to come over here? The studio's quiet now. It'll be busy later." I nodded and followed him over to an area that held a comfy looking couch and a couple of chairs.

Kevin sat down on the couch and motioned for me to do the same. I took a spot on the other end of it, and got out my notebook.

"All I really know is that you've started a new recording company and you want people to know about it. So, if you want to just give me some basic information to start, that would be great," I said, feeling really unprepared. I'd never gone to an interview without having questions prepared before. But there was nothing to allow me to prepare on this one; Dave didn't give me a chance.

"Okay, let's see what can I tell you? Basically, I just wanted to start a company that kept me in the music business, but kept me, personally, out of the spotlight." I kind of paused in my notes. Something about that statement made me think. I didn't stop for long though, because I would lose track of what he was saying. "My main goal for the studio is to keep things simple, so that the people who are just starting out have a place to come before they get wrapped up in all of the other parts of the business. Not having any information about the business side of the industry is what gets a musician into trouble." I scribbled down the last few words and then looked up at him.

"Ok. So, what got you involved in the music business?" He looked sort of startled at the question, but before he had a chance to answer it the phone rang, and he got up to answer it. He apologized to me as he picked up the phone.

"Backstreet Productions." I flinched as I heard the name, remembering what I called my �stupid years' in College when I liked all the boy-bands, like Backstreet Boys. And suddenly, I realized how I knew the man that I had been interviewing. I wanted to smack myself in the head, or better yet, crawl into a hole and die. He was Kevin Richardson, formerly of the Backstreet Boys. �Why am I so stupid?' I wondered. �How could I not recognize him? I watched them and had seen pictures often enough. Geez!'

He hung up the phone and came back over to the couch. Before I could stop myself I started rambling. "I am SO sorry I didn't recognize you before. You're Kevin Richardson, and I feel like a HUGE idiot. Ignore my last question. When Dave sent me on this story he didn't tell me your last name or the name of the company. He just handed me this," I pulled the slip of paper with the address on it out of the pocket of my camera bag and showed him, "and said go do the story. I didn't realize who I was interviewing." He was just sort of shaking his head with a funny grin on his face.

"Don't worry about it. It's a different part of my life anyway. I'm trying to get away from that. I mean, it was fun but it's time to move on." I paused for a moment before asking what I was thinking.

"I have to ask one question then. If you're trying to get away from it, why call it Backstreet Productions? Isn't that just a constant reminder." He shook his head.

"I never said I wanted to forget. I just don't want to keep living it. The company is built on the money I made in the group, and the other guys are all silent partners as well. I figured the name was appropriate. It's my experiences with the group that led me to create the company."

Although I didn't really intend to, we kept discussing the group, and the rest of the guys, and the life that they led while they were in the group. Eventually we came back around to their still recent separation and how Kevin had started the company. I got a lot of interesting information and had more than enough to write the story, so I thanked Kevin for his time, and got up to leave.

While we had been talking someone had come in to use the studio. Not wanting to disturb anyone, I asked "Is there a time when I can come back to check out the studio, when you're not busy?" He turned to the desk behind him and checked the calendar, before turning back to me.

"There's no one scheduled for tomorrow so that would be good. That's also the official opening, if you want to stay for that. There are a lot of things going on. Around 4 is best." I reached into the pocket of my camera bag for a business card and handed it to him. I wondered how Dave would react to me spending extra time on this story. This was the chance I had dreamed about when I was in college and �loved' the Backstreet Boys.

"That sounds good. Here's my card, you can give me a call if there are any problems. The top number is at the paper, the second one is my work cell and the third is my home number for off-hours." He took the card and studied it for a minute, before fastening it prominently on the note board by the reception desk. I smiled, and reached to shake his hand before I left. "It was really nice to meet you, Kevin. And I'll see you tomorrow." He shook my hand and smiled, before I walked out through the tall glass doors, wondering how I managed to get so lucky.

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