AN: Hey, yay for finished chapters, no matter how long they take! :) ******************* Curiosity Killed... Chapter Twenty- Five ****************** So, I’ve been avoided Kevin for about a week now. Its not that we’re fighting, it’s just that I don’t like how he watches me- like I’m more than a pawn in a power game. He watches me like I’m somebody. He watches me like I’m worth something. He watches me like he knows me. I don’t like anyone reading the deep, dark secrets of my soul, especially Mr. Dumb Pants. I don’t like dreaming about Kevin Richardson at night. I don’t like forgetting the exact shade of Stephen’s eyes. I don’t like that I like being dwarfed by everyone around me. I don’t like what I think of when I don’t have anything to do or anything to do. When I’m still, its easy to think of death and how easy it could all be. So I pretty much go to concerts, avoid too many kisses from Nick and Howie, encourage AJ’s stumbling attempts of friendship, enjoy Brian’s warm regard, and spend my nights curled up against Kevin’s chest as I try to pretend that I don’t see him when I close my eyes. Sometimes being a Backstreet hostage is kind of complicated. Brian and I are curled up on a couch in a room backstage since there was a glitch with hotel reservations and we arrived at the venue about an hour early for sound check. I like Brian, more than I should, because he’s all the things I wish I could be, minus the bloodsucking fiend part. He has enough honor and integrity and naďve optimism that I’m envious. I think I used to cry with pessimism when I was little. The Vampire attack when I was eight didn’t help much. He’s never touched me, never tried to touch me, like the others have. As much as I like him, I don’t want him too. It would sully him to try to seduce me. The thought kind of leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Nick skips in, all long limbs and blonde hair, a perpetual child in an eternal man’s body. I think Nick will make it, even if none of the others do. He grew up in show business- his attachment to reality was never very concrete. “Guess what I have?” he demands, sounding entirely too smug as he clutches a magazine to his chest. “A magazine,” I deadpan as I shift and stick my feet by Brian’s ear. He grunts and pinches a toe to make me move them down to his shoulders. “Shut up,” Nick says, still pleased, “leave me my surprise.” “Go surprise someone who cares…” “Catherine,” Brian admonishes through closed eyes as he flicks an ankle with his fingers. “Oww!” “Baby,” Brian mumbles. “Am not…” I whine as I shove tangled blonde hair out of my sable eyes. Nick coughs loudly. “Excuse me, this, you should care because it concerns you.” Brian cracks open one sapphire eye as I study Nick with faint suspicion. “How does it concern me?” I finally ask, knowing it’s a trap but, curiosity, hello trouble. Nick literally bounces up with glee and flings the magazine down into my lap. I blink and try to remember to breathe as I sit up and stare down at my own face on the front page of the National Enquirer. Oh this is going to be fun. “Congratulations Cat, you’re now officially a Backstreet girlfriend.” Well bite me; complicated life, meet complications. ********************************************************************************** “Were you planning on even telling me Cat?” I cringe at the censor in Stephen’s voice and wish, desperately, that Kevin would have the decency to give me a little bit of privacy for this conversation. Creep. “Umm, I kind of hoped that it wouldn’t come up.” “Catherine, it’s the frigging Backstreet Boys!” I fiddle with my hands. “Well, they aren’t as popular as they used to be. And, well, I’m sorry?” “Not good enough, dammit! Catherine, Cat, darling, I am so afraid for you. What were you thinking?!” “I wasn’t,” I reply miserably and fight back a sniffle. “I am sorry Stephen.” There’s a heart beat of silence and then he sighs heavily. “I can’t loose you Cat, you’re half of me. I… you’re my best friend, my fiancé.” Kevin, who’s sitting next to me on the sofa in our hotel room, tenses as he eavesdrops. I shoot him a dirty look before I answer. “I don’t want to be lost. I… I love you, you know that. I’ll come back if there’s any possible way to come back.” “It’s not safe there. I… I wish Dracula was there.” I cough and try to imagine Dracula getting along with five men vying for my attentions and my loyalty before whistling. “I don’t, hell, talk about WWIII. I’m safe enough, promise.” Stephen laughs wryly. “I’m learning to discount your promises.” I shift uncomfortably and hate that I feel myself blushing. “I don’t mean to break them. I really believe them when I make them, you know that…” “I know darling Cat. Let me guess, your captors are hovering and your phone time is almost up?” I glance over at the glowering Kevin and snicker. “Something like that. I’ll call you in a few days.” “You better. Now, remember to eat, and wear long sleeves, and drink plenty of fluids. You know you dehydrate easily.” “Yes sir,” I reply swiftly. “Smart ass.” “You love me for it.” “I love you, it’s as simple as that.” Stephen sighs and I ache at the longing in his voice. Picking up a tabloid and finding his best friend on the cover as the newest Backstreet groupie had not been a pleasant surprise. Especially since I’m “tied” to Kevin- who has a less than sparkling reputation post divorce. We hang up and I mutely hand Kevin Richardson the phone, unhappy with how events are playing out in my over dramatized life. I wish I were a sheep herder- then the big excitement of the year would be shearing season. Ahh, to find wool fascinating. “I didn’t put you in that magazine, you know that Cat. You’ve been with us for weeks, the secret would have gotten out sooner or later, even with mind tricks.” “The cat’s out of the bag?” Kevin snorts. “You have a juvenile sense of humor. Unfortunately, that’s one of your more endearing qualities.” I simper fakely. “You love me for it!” He tweaks me on the nose and winks broadly. “I might,” Kevin drawls slowly, voice warm and low, thick with a rarely used accent that sends shivers down my spine. I blink and feel my jaw drop as he rises fluidly. “I’m getting ready for bed…” My gaze follows helplessly as he peels off his comfortable t-shirt, leaving him bronzed and half naked with a trail of dark hair leading into baggy, low slung designer jeans that hug his slender hips and outline the smooth power of his thighs. He ambles into the bathroom with casual effort and I curse myself, taking a moment to pound my head on a nearby wall as I forcefully will more lurid pictures of my kidnapper out of my head. As much as I like kissing Howie and Nick and AJ- only Kevin makes me want to jump him in a dark alley fully dressed. Unfortunately, he knows it. I am so damn transparent. Maybe he’s just too good. Maybe he could give Dracula a few pointers. Dammit. Bite me once, bite me twice, my life is decidedly complex.