Only He Holds The Key - Chapter 2

Only He Holds The Key 3

First off, I would like to thank JoJoe for his help in editing and general improvements throughout the story. He also has a story called "Jimmy Needs Assistance" on here. I highly suggest that you check it out.

Disclaimer: Do not read this if you are under the legal age in your area, or if it is illegal to read this type of material in your area. This does not imply anything about any celebrity mentioned within this story.

As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated, whether it be compliments, or constructive criticism. You can e-mail me at: onlyheholdsthekey@hotmail.com

And now, the latest installment of "Only He Holds The Key".

"Great job Brian. OK, James, let's put down that other variation of..." John, our producer, was instructing the other guys on our third day in the studio. I sat on the plush couch in our makeshift living room, notebook in hand, thinking. Two weeks ago we had finished our US tour with the Backstreet Boys, and were shoved into the spotlight, though somewhat dimmer than that of the Boys. I guess that was because the only way to hear out music was to see us in concert. Which, as you can guess, we were rectifying by being in this "house/studio" to record our first ever CD, tentatively titled "Holding On". In case you are wondering about the reference to "house/studio", none of us felt comfortable recording in a typical studio setting. If we went that route, there were likely to be several other bands sharing the complex, and I just couldn't see that happening.

I don't know, maybe I should be thankful to the Backstreet boys. If it weren't for us being on tour with them, gaining a record deal with their label, and getting our name spread out because of them, it's likely that we wouldn't be here today. Then again, just days after the tour began, conflicts began to arise. Thinking back on it, we all got along well until Nick and I went on a 'date', as Scott put it. In reality, it was just two guys, two new friends getting to know each other. Yeah, I admit it, friendship wasn't really what I wanted with Nick, but I'd settle for it. The memories of that night, which was the beginning of the BSB/Weathered fallout, overtook me, as I tried to think what might have caused it.

***** *****

As I inserted my key card in the lock of the hotel door, I thought back to the 'date' I was just returning from. We had a good time, went to a coffee shop, shopped at a few stores, but no confessions of love like I had wanted. I stepped into the darkened hotel room, careful not to wake up Mark, and closed the door behind me. The couch squeaked under me as I sat down heavily on it.

_

There were so many thoughts running through my head as I looked around the hotel room Mark and I were sharing. As hard as I tried, I couldn't keep some nagging, negative thoughts out of my mind. Sighing as I sat up, I decided to try to clear my mind out on the balcony. The glass door glided smoothly upon its track as I stepped out into the cool night air.

_

'What am I doing here?' I thought. 'Do we really have a chance to make it, or are we just kidding ourselves? And Nick, what about Nick? Is he even gay? And if he is, why would he want me?' I looked to my right, and on the neighboring balcony saw Kevin. Holding my hand up, I waved to him. He looked at me, and without responding to my gesture, went back into his room. 'OK,' I though, 'someone's had a bad day.' Looking at my watch, I saw that it was already 2:14 in the morning; I decided to go ahead and get some sleep.

***** *****

After I woke up the next morning, Nick, Howie, AJ, and Brian were nice, as they usually were, but Kevin seemed to ignored me. I thought I could deal with it, I mean; I've been ignored many times before in my life. But, as usual, things didn't turn out as I had expected them. One by one, the Backstreet members began to turn their backs on us. After Kevin, Brian started, than AJ. Later on, Howie joined the odd display of this 'boycott.' What finally did it, what really hurt me was when Nick joined in the rest of his group in the silent treatment of us. About two weeks prior to the conclusion of the tour, Nick suddenly ceased in all communication. I wasn't the only one affected by it, Scott wanted to confront them, but I convinced him that we were above petty arguments and if they wanted to pout, pout they would. On the outside, I was happy, I was fun, I was confident. But, on the inside, I was torn up. My band mates noticed, and on several occasions tried to get me to open up to them and try to let go of whatever it was I was holding on to. Despite their attempts, I kept it bottled up.

If there was one positive to the happenings, I guess it would be that these feelings from this experience found it's way to my notebook in the way of songs. Some angry, some sad, some loud, some quiet, but all helpless and alone.

Breaking my silent reverie, I felt the cushions of the couch shift as someone sat next to me. I looked to my left and saw Brian staring at me with a concerned look on his face. "Mark, we've...what I mean is that all of us...look, we're worried about you. I know you're still shaken up about what happened on tour, but I've never seen you like this before. You need to know that you can talk to any of us anytime you want."

"Yeah, I know, but this is really something I need to figure out by myself." I faked a slight smile, which I know he didn't buy.

"Right, well, John wants you to go and lay down a few tracks before it gets too late. Good luck."

Thanks," I responded as I got off of the couch and made my way out of the curtained off 'living room'.

As I walked into the main recording area, John greeted me. "Ok man, here's the plan for tonight. First off, let's just get some random riffs down using a few different tones so we can go back and see what sounds best on play back and then we'll..."

------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------ ------- ------- ------

Kevin's Point of View:

'I can't believe I'm still so tired from that tour,' I thought as I settled into my enormous blue recliner. 'At least we don't have to do much in the studio since our next release is a greatest hits compilation. Oh well, I'm sure it will still outsell those punks from Weathered.' I smiled at the thought as I picked up the remote control and clicked the television on. Feeling in the mood to watch a movie, I went to HBO. Finding nothing there, I headed to Starz. Still not finding anything, I turned it over to Showtime. What I saw on the screen disgusted me beyond belief. Right there, on my own large screen television were two semi-naked men rubbing against each other, passionately kissing. "What the fuck!" I screamed aloud. I clicked the 'INFO' button on the remote and saw the name of the show. "Queer as Folk" the caption read. "OH MY GOD" I shouted as I hurriedly fumbled with the remote, eventually ending the abomination I had just witnessed. 'It seems like I'm surrounded by those, those, evil creatures' I thought, shuddering at the thought of homosexuals.

Just as I was beginning to like our new opening band, Weathered, I found out the disturbing truth. No, disturbing isn't the right word. Horrid, evil, disgusting is what it was. What one thing could make me hate four seemingly nice guys so suddenly, you ask? One of them was a faggot. Yes, you heard me; one of these guys was a queer. Living with us. I shuddered once again thinking of the close proximity I was to IT. God only knows how many times he envisioned me nude; he probably planned on raping me too. I know of their evil ways, right when you least suspect it, BAM, they'll get what they want. I've heard stories from some friends I knew in high school. They told me how these homosexuals operate. Lying, cheating, backstabbing, evil, promiscuous, I could go on all day.

Once I found this out, he had to be isolated, obviously. I couldn't allow IT to convert one of us, that would be terrible! I thought back to the day I found their dirty secret.

***** *****

I slowly lowered the book I was reading as I heard knocking on the door of my hotel room. "Come in," I shouted. As the door opened, I saw Nick enter. "What's up Nicky?"

"Hey, you know Mark from Weathered?"

_

"Duh Nick, I think I would know who our opening act is." I spat back; frustrated that he would disrespect me by thinking I was not on top of things.

"Oh, right, well, I just thought I'd tell you that I'm going out to have coffee or something with him later tonight. Anyway, if I'm not in my room, that's where I'll be. OK?"

"Yeah, whatever," I grunted, angry with him for disturbing my rare quiet time.

I continued with my book as he closed the door behind him. 'Wait a minute, if he's out with someone else his age, who knows how late he'll be out.' I got off of my bed and headed out the door. As I made my way toward Nick's room to tell him to be back by midnight, I headed to the area of the floor where the opening act was staying, thinking that he may be at Mark's room already. 'Now I know it's one of these rooms' I thought as I looked at the two doors directly in front of an elevator. I put my ear up to the first door to see if it's the correct one.

"Hey Scott?"

"What's up? You better hurry, it's already 8:15. Your date will be here soon."

"I can't find anything to wear. Do you mind if I look through your clothes?"

"Yeah, just don't get anything, ya know, dirty."

"Shut up. I wish it was like that, but no."

"Better hurry up pretty boy."

I pulled away from the door quickly. My pulse began to race. I kept hearing the short conversation in my head. I ran off towards our area of the floor. 'I can't believe this.' I thought, appalled. 'This Mark, no fags don't even deserve a name, this creature sent from hell is trying to convert our little Nick.' My fear of this abomination quickly turned to anger. I ran off towards Nick's room. As I skidded to a stop in front of his door I began to loudly pound on it. Getting no response, I banged harder and louder. "Hey, cut it out, he's gone. He went with Mark to go do something," AJ said with his head sticking out from the door.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed. AJ looked over at me like I had gone insane and quickly stepped back inside his room and locked it. Feeling overwhelmed, I made my way into my room and sprawled out on my bed, thinking of how to get rid of this monster.

_

I soon fell asleep, exhausted from my near meeting with a homosexual. When I awoke, I felt a need for fresh air. I slowly rose from the bed, and walked to the balcony. As I stepped out, I leaned on the railing, trying to clear my head. I looked over, and much to my horror I saw Mark on an adjacent balcony waving to me, probably trying to lure me over for unholy sex. 'Oh God, he's smiling at me.' Seeing this, I abruptly opened the glass door and went into the protection of my own room.

***** *****

Over the next few weeks, I made up lies about the members of Weathered, not just Mark, but all of them. I thought about trying to befriend the others in the band, but decided against it since they may be contaminated with queerness. Gradually the guys began to believe my fictional tales of the things that these guys did when in the seclusion of their rooms. I did not, however, mention anything about the homosexuality of Mark, as that might frighten the guys too much, especially little Nick. He may have gone into shock if he knew of the evils of gayness. Nick was the hardest to convince that refusing to talk to the opening act was the only thing to do. It took some incredible fabrication of stories to finally get him to stop any friendships from developing with James, Scott, Brian, and especially Mark.

After he finally came to his senses and ended communication with them, Nick seemed to go into a shell. He talked to nobody, and allowed no one to get close to him. We tried to help, but he would have nothing to do with it.

The tour ended, and much to my dismay, Weathered had it's own growing allegiance of fans. The cheers from them came to equal those for us, and in some venues, the crowd was more enthused to hear them than us. Jive gave them a chance to record in a highly acclaimed recording studio with world famous producers, but the idiots declined. Instead, they had Jive rent them a house and bring in recording equipment. They brought in a friend of theirs as a producer, John something or other. With a set-up like that, I knew they were destined for failure. But we, on the other hand, were releasing a greatest hits CD with one new song on it. What really amused me is that they were scheduled for release on the same day. I'd pay to see the looks on their faces when we smash them in sales.

I laughed aloud thinking about the fools, who right now were in some house, recording with a no name producer. I picked up the remote and quickly switched it to the local news so I wouldn't risk seeing more of the evils of homo-sex. As the day's top stories ended, I decided to call it a day and headed to bed.

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