Tristan
Trilogy- Story 3
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CHAPTER 65
Kevin's eyes flew
open as he gasped in the darkness. He stared up at nothing,
disoriented and covered in perspiration. He'd been in the throes
of a nightmare - not the kind where you find yourself falling
or naked and not the night terrors that had you running from
monsters or lost in the darkness. The horror of this dream was
based in psychological fear. It was familiar.
He'd had the same dream two years ago -
or parts of it anyway. The major difference was that he now
recognized all of the players in his dream. Once again, Tristan
was outside of their home in Kentucky with the same two small
children he had dreamed about before. Like before, she was pregnant
and wearing the pink camisole. She still carried Tropicana roses
and boughs of honeysuckle. Again she murmured 'I bruise so easily,
Kevin...' , but this time he knew that the small children were
Ben and Mallory. Kevin had awakened before the plane appeared.
This was the first time he could recall having a recurring nightmare.
The impact of the dream itself coupled with the realization
that he'd had this dream before was disconcerting and frightening.
The house had never seemed so quiet and empty.
He sat up from the sofa and dropped his
face into his hands for a few minutes while he got his bearings
and tried to remember how he got here. He had no idea what time
it was. A light was on in the in the back of the house and so
he pulled himself up and shuffled towards the brightness. His
throat was dry, his legs felt weak. It took some effort to move
himself towards the kitchen.
Kevin poured himself a large tumbler of
water and drank it down quickly. Then he poured another, trying
to quench his fierce thirst. He turned and leaned against the
counter, drinking more slowly, taking deep breaths. His heart
was still pounding. The blue digital numbers on the microwave
read 4:02 AM. What time did we get home? I must have passed
out... It was when he went to put his glass in the sink
that he spotted Tristan's purse leaning against the coffee maker.
The end of a sheet of buff-colored paper stuck out from the
top. The list...
It was coming back to him now - the dinner
party, Eminem, Mason, Grammys, bourbon, cocaine and cucumbers.
Kevin reached into his pocket and felt a stab of guilt when
his fingers felt the small box there. He had bought Tristan
a charm for her bracelet - a golden heart covered with pink
sapphires. It was an anniversary gift. Their anniversary - Kevin
glanced at the clock one more time - was yesterday. No golden
heart, no time alone, no sex on the beach, no time to cherish...
He peeked in on the children before continuing
on down the hallway. They were both sleeping like angels - Mallory
on her tummy with her thumb in her mouth, Ben on his back, arms
wide and mouth open. Dear God, they were so precious to him!
One of Kevin's fears was they would never realize that. He watched
them for a few minutes after recovering them with the blankets
they had kicked away and then left their room and headed down
the Mexican tiled hallway to his and Tristan's bedroom. He halfway
expected the door to be closed and locked but it wasn't. The
door was open and from his spot in the hallway, he could look
in and see the shadow of Tristan lying on the huge bed, curled
into a fetal position. This is how she slept when she was alone.
No spooning. No tangled legs. No sleepy caresses.
Snippets of the evening's conversations
assailed his mind as he watched her sleep. He had offered her
little support; more concerned with the impression she was making
than with her feelings - more interested in getting high himself
than lifting her up. The cocaine had created paranoia. He had
been paranoid about Tristan making a fool of herself, about
her making a fool of him, about Asa... He had viewed her as
a threat and not as a support - as a competitor, not a partner.
A liability instead of an asset.
Kevin walked over to a small table that
sat beside an overstuffed chair. A small milkglass fairy light
sat on the table and he lit it. A soft glow filtered through
the room, enabling him to see her more clearly. She lay facing
the edge of the bed so Kevin stepped over to her and bent down
to examine her face and read her body.
She was wearing a short, thin, alabaster
gown. It was almost the same color of her skin. Kevin reached
up and touched the capped sleeve that had dropped off her shoulder.
The fabric felt soft and slick between his fingers. Her arms
were drawn up tightly against her breasts and her knees were
drawn up towards her stomach, causing the gown to catch and
puddle at her hips. His eyes traveled from the curve of her
hip, to her thigh and then down the length of her calf to her
feet. Shiny pink polish decorated her toes. Like his babies,
she had kicked the covers away.
Most of her hair had fallen behind her
shoulders but a few strands curled across the side of her face.
When Kevin gingerly lifted them, he could see that they covered
the streaks of tears that she had shed sometime earlier. He
sighed deeply and stood to remove his clothing. I shouldn't
have had so much to drink - shouldn't mix alcohol with coke...
He left his clothes in a heap and went around to the other side
of the bed, wondering if she would respond to his presence when
he climbed in beside her.
She made no movement but lay still and
silent, her back to him as he scooted himself across the mattress
and folded his body against her small frame. A small, unnamed
fear was realized when he felt her unconsciously stiffen at
his touch. He wasn't afraid of her anger. It was her disappointment
in him that was hard to bear. It wasn't so much what he said
or did tonight that was hurtful but more what he didn't
say or do. It never occurred to Kevin that drugs had any part
in what had happened tonight. Now that he was sober, he felt
the remorse of responsibility but believed that it was rooted
in weariness and outside pressures. When he was high, he blamed
Tristan's naiveté or presumed manipulation. He never considered
that his cruel thoughts and actions could be chemically induced.
That would mean that the drugs had control and not him. Personal
guilt was less painful to him than the realization that he had
permitted a line of white powder or a bottle of pills to transcend
his authority. Kevin was already in denial.
He wanted nothing more than to gently push
her to her back and love her, not for his own gratification
but for her reassurance. His own comfort would be found in her
response. Kevin closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against
her shoulder, recapturing the images and sounds of previous
intimacies. He could almost feel her touching him; her fingers
lightly stroking his hardness and then brushing across his glans
with a maddeningly slow hand, gently teasing him into ecstasy.
He could almost hear her speak his name, the syllables reformed
by her moans and whispers of urgency. He could almost see her
eyes change color with her excitement, becoming lighter and
brighter as he brought her nearer to orgasm.
Kevin wrapped his arm around Tristan's
waist and held fast.
"I'm sorry, baby. So sorry..." he whispered
into her hair.
Tristan still lay quietly on her side in
her sleeping position. She hadn't moved since Kevin entered
the room. But now her eyes opened and she stared straight ahead.
Kevin burrowed against her back and finally drifted back into
sleep not realizing that she had heard him.
*****
"Oh my God, Nick! Look at this!"
Holly flapped the newspaper at Nick from
across the table, causing him to drop his spoon back into his
bowl of cereal. Lucky Charms and splatters of milk splashed
across the surface and onto his shirt.
"Jeez, Hol! What?" Nick fussed while using
his shirtsleeve to wipe up the mess. "We at war? You win the
lotto? What?" he asked irritably.
Holly paid him no mind. She was still reading.
"Grammy nominations! Look!"
Nick suddenly perked up, quickly forgetting
about his spilled breakfast. He had forgotten that nominations
were due to be announced.
"Oh Man! Don't tell me! Don't tell me,
Hol! We got another nod, right? Am I right?" Nick grabbed the
paper out of Holly's hands and began a frantic search for the
list of nominees.
"Hey!"
"Where is it, Holly? Am I on the right
page?" Nick's eyes darted haphazardly across the newsprint as
he licked his lips in anticipation. "Did we did nominated for
best album? No! Don't tell me!"
Holly shook her head in exasperation. "Don't
worry. I won't."
It took Nick a second to catch Holly's
implication. When he did, his brows furrowed and his excitement
faded.
"What? We didn't get nothin'?"
"I'm sorry, hon..."
"What are you so excited for, then?" Nick
paused as he considered the possibilities. The one he grabbed
did not make him happy. "No. Not them! Don't tell me
they got nominated..."
"Don't worry. I won't tell you that, either!"
Holly laughed.
Nick threw the paper back at her, exasperated.
He didn't have his glasses and hadn't put his contacts in. He
couldn't read the page anyway.
"Who, Holly?" Then Nick had a brainstorm.
He would stop Holly's teasing. "Oh, I bet I know!" he grinned.
"My girl, Britney! What did she get? Best female performance?
She sure deserves it!"
Nick's ploy worked wonderfully. Holly's
amusement evaporated.
"Yeah?" Holly hissed. "Best performance
for playing like she's a virgin and trying to convince people
that her tits aren't manufactured by Dupont!"
"Awww, you don't know they're fake, Hol.
Not for sure..."
"Believe me, Nick. Nobody grows four cup
sizes in six weeks!"
Nick threw up his hands in surrender. Arguing
about Britney's boobies would not be beneficial to him in any
way and he had the good sense to recognize this.
"Okay, baby, okay. I believe you! Now,
tell me who you got so excited about getting a nomination?"
"Tris!" Holly laughed. "Tristan was nominated
for performance and the CD she did was nominated for Best Album
- in the classical category, of course..."
"Well, damn! That's great! You gonna call
her later? It's still early out there..." Nick smiled thoughtfully
for a moment as he let his mind wander. "I'll bet Kevin is bustin'
his buttons..."
Nick's remark caused Holly to grow thoughtful
as well. That was one of the reasons she wanted to call Tristan.
She hoped that Kevin was excited for his wife but Holly remembered
how he danced around the concert issue and she had reason to
believe that he wasn't thrilled when Tristan made the CD to
begin with. A Grammy nomination would garner more attention
for her and if she should win, demands for her talent would
increase. Holly also knew how much the group wanted a Grammy
of their own and hoped that wouldn't create any problems between
Kevin and Tristan. It shouldn't. He loves her.
*****
"I can cancel, Tris, This isn't that big
a deal."
"No, Kevin. Don't. This whole awards thing
is just a luncheon. The media probably won't even be there.
You go on and do the taping. You need to be there, especially
since y'all aren't touring this year. I'll be fine."
"You still gonna go? If I'm not here, I
mean?"
Tristan stopped her stirring and turned
from the sauce that was just beginning to simmer. She wasn't
sure she understood the question.
"What do you mean?", she asked, wiping
her hands on a dishtowel. "Why wouldn't I go?"
Kevin shrugged and pushed his hair behind
his ears before shoving his hands deep into his pockets.
"I don't know... I just didn't think that
you'd want to go alone. Without me. You know...?"
Hmmm... Tristan could see where
this was going. The picture became a little more focused with
each remark. Kevin was struggling to be rational and fair but
he could barely get out of his own way. Diplomacy wasn't his
strong suit and it wasn't in his nature to beat around the bush
for too long.
"I would like for you to go with me, but
I really think you need to be in New York." She turned back
to the sauce and waited for Kevin to continue down a potentially
rocky path.
"I guess you'll get a chance to see a lot
of old friends and all..."
"Yes, I hope so..."
"But you shouldn't go alone...unescorted..."
"I won't..."
Her unexpected reply seemed to momentarily
stun him. Tristan was waiting for Kevin to go ahead and ask
the question - put words to what he was wondering. He, in turn,
was waiting for her to volunteer further explanation. After
a prolonged silence, she took the saucepan off the burner and
turned back to him again, crossing her arms and waiting patiently.
Kevin's hands were still in his pockets but now he was rocking
on his bare feet, frowning down at the floor. Then he lifted
his face and their eyes met. Tristan hadn't expected to see
emotional conflict in his expression. She was prepared for anger
or frustration. At the very least, she had expected some good,
old-fashioned 'pissiness'. What she got instead was not a glaring
stare but a soul-piercing gaze. He was searching her heart,
not completely confident that he would find what he needed there.
Holly had called her on the day after their
anniversary. Although Tristan tried not to give it away, she
suspected that Holly had caught some of the tension she had
tried to hide. Holly had learned not to dig too deeply unless
invited but Tristan had not been ready to issue that invitation.
Things had still been chilly between her and Kevin at that time
and she had not reached a comfort zone that would allow her
to unload.
Since that night, Kevin had been trying
really hard to make amends for ruining their anniversary. It
had taken several days but they had managed to reconnect. Things
were almost back to normal and Tristan thought it was no mere
coincidence that Kevin had also been spending less time partying
and 'making the rounds'. There had been some schmoozing but
Kevin had been spending large blocks of time at home writing.
They had also seen Mutt who was in LA helping to produce some
R&B tracks to be sung by a new group of young, black artists.
He had invited Kevin to the studio and, as a result, Kevin had
been afforded the opportunity, not only to do a little producing,
but also to meet many people that he had long admired like Smokey
Robinson and Billy Joel.
Kevin was happy. Tristan was happy. Neither
of them wanted to screw things up right now but Kevin still
clung to many of his old insecurities. The Backstreet Boys had
been apart for two months and they needed, not only to touch
base with each other, but to reach out to their fans as well
and reassure them that they were still a team.
The rest of the group had been particularly
worried about Kevin and his lack of contact with them. His interest
seemed to have waned somewhat resulting in an isolation they
didn't understand. Brian didn't talk about it much and Nick
refused to acknowledge that anything threatening might be happening.
He preferred to believe that Kevin was just busy exploring other
avenues - avenues that would ultimately benefit all of them.
After all, a captain never deserts his ship. AJ was the one
who was the most openly affected by these changes. They had
agreed to take a year. He hoped that hadn't been a mistake.
They couldn't watch each other's backs when they were thousands
of miles apart and AJ felt that Kevin's back needed watching.
The group had been scheduled to appear
on Letterman. Jive had insisted and the Boys were still under
contract. The day of the taping was also the day that Grammy
awards would be given in the classical, technical and world
music categories. Kevin and Tristan had discussed the conflict
and come to a mutual decision. Now, Kevin seemed to be hedging
a bit. The awards and taping would be the day after tomorrow
and Kevin was in need of reassurances that he still felt that
he didn't deserve to ask for. Tristan realized how difficult
this was for him and decided to cut him some slack.
"I won't go alone," she finished. "Mason
will take me and see that I'm taken care of..."
"I thought he was supposed to go to New
York with Jack and me..." Tristan thought she caught a hint
of relief in Kevin's voice.
"He was, but he decided that he would stay
here with me while you're gone and then we'll fly to Florida
together and meet you all there on Wednesday."
She watched as Kevin worked through his
predictable approval process, evaluating the proposed course
of action and trying to pinpoint any specific problems. Then
he sighed and nodded and turned to leave.
"I guess that'll be okay.." he said over
his shoulder as if he had been asked to authorize the plan.
"I'll be in my office..."
Tristan smiled at his back as he walked
away. She knew that Kevin's real concern was Asa, although neither
of them dared mention it. The last thing Kevin wanted was for
her to end up at the Grammys on Asa Whitmore's arm. Tristan
had learned not to waste time arguing or defending her feelings
for Asa. It wouldn't matter. Rationality had no place in Kevin's
feelings for that man. He would never like or approve of him.
CHAPTER 66
"Well, how do you like it?"
Tristan studied her reflection in the mirror.
This awards ceremony was a precursor to the 'big' show, which
would air live on Sunday evening. A late luncheon was being
held in the ballroom of the Beverly Hills Hotel at which time
nominations would be read and awards doled out. She wasn't sure
how to tell Mason that the dress he had picked out for her might
be .... well, inappropriate.
The bodice of the midnight blue dress was
very tightly fitted from the slight vee at the bust to her hips,
reminding Tristan of the corset that Mammy had tightened on
Scarlett in the barbecue scene from 'Gone With the Wind'. The
skirt flared slightly when it reached her bottom but it was
on the short side. It was also pretty low cut and even though
the dress had spaghetti straps, Tristan wondered if they would
hold, should she sneeze or get choked. She needn't have worried.
The bodice had enough boning to hold everything in place. The
straps were practically an afterthought. The dress was very
expensive but Tristan thought it looked a little like 'Christian
Dior meets Frederick's of Hollywood'. It kind of looked like
skirted underwear.Lord...
Mason had selected her shoes, too, which,
as usual, were very high and strappy. He had piled her hair
on her head in a casual fashion. Long tendrils trailed down
her back and along the sides of her face.
"Come over here," he commanded. "I need
to trim you a little."
Mason grabbed a couple of gift bags he
had brought in with him and guided Tristan over to the window
where the light was better. Then he whipped out a pair of cuticle
scissors and began tugging at the loose strands of hair that
fell down Tristan's back. He was already snipping before she
realized what he was doing.
"Hey, Vidal!" she shouted as she jerked
her head away. "What in the hell are you doing? Are you a beautician
now?"
"Stylist!" Mason frowned. "Listen to me,
Miss Tris! You haven't had a new look in years. It's time to
show off a little. You've been out of the public eye forever!
Monsiour Richardson isn't the only pretty face around here!"
"I think this dress is showing plenty all
by itself, Mason! Kevin would have a fit..."
Mason's hands went to his hips as he stuck
a pose. "Well, Kevin isn't here, is he?" he said defiantly.
He moved in front of her and tugged at some small sections of
hair at her crown. "This may be an early evening affair but
it's still glam! I even bought a new suit and it cost more than
this dress, believe me!" Mason started snipping at the hair
he had pulled down the front of Tristan's face.
"Hey! What are you doing? Are you crazy?"
"Just giving you a few bangs, Precious.
Now, turn this way a little so I can do your make-up..."
Mason dabbed, brushed and rubbed for twenty
minutes before he pulled away to evaluate his work. Another
flick of a brush here, a dab of lipstick there and he stopped
again. A smile slowly curled his lips upward into a satisfied
grin. He was beaming.
"Jesus, Precious! I know it's you but you
look so...so..."
"Slutty?" Tristan scowled. She tried to
turn so she could look past Mason into the mirror.
"NO! You wait! I'm almost done..."
Mason leaned over and picked Tristan's
earrings up off the dresser and slipped them into her ears.
Then he reached out and picked up a piece of tissue paper that
he had carried in with his other purchases. He carefully unfolded
the tissue to reveal a single Tropicana rose. The blossom was
open, not pinched into a tight bud. Mason brandished the small
scissors once again and cut the stem before sticking it into
the vee of Tristan's bodice. The dark blue of the dress and
the salmon color of the rose played off of each other beautifully.
"Your cleavage will hold it in place..."
Mason said matter-of-factly as Tristan gave him a slightly evil
eye. "You have to wear your trademark..."
"Can I see now?" she pouted.
"Close your eyes..."
"Mason!"
"Please, Precious! I'll walk you to the
mirror and you can see for yourself what a positively striking
couple we make. I swear, Jack and Kevin will both have hard-ons
when they get a load of us!"
"They're not going to see us!" Tristan
sounded a little panicked as if she were trying to convince
herself of that fact. "This isn't a prime-time event like on
Sunday..."
"There will probably be some cable people
there - maybe ET, since you're Mrs. Backstreet and all."
"Oh, no... I hadn't thought of that..."
"And you know there'll be photographers..."
"Oh, God..."
Mason walked Tristan over to the mirror
where she was allowed to open her eyes on a count of three.
When she did, she could hardly believe what she saw.
"I swear, Precious. Sometimes you almost
make me wish I was bi..."
*****
Kevin could hardly believe what he saw,
either. Unfortunately, he saw it during the Letterman taping
when the producers thought it would be fun to bring out a monitor
so Kevin could at least see the arrival of nominees that was
being telecast by the Arts and Entertainment network. They thought
it would be a nice surprise and even had the foresight to arrange
for a split screen so that Kevin's reaction could be seen by
millions of viewers when he saw his wife arrive at the ceremonies
with her manager. The time difference allowed for perfect timing.
Letterman taped at five PM. The awards ceremony was scheduled
to begin at three but guests would be arriving between 2:15
and 2:45.
Arts and Entertainment had cameras set
up in the lobby which was swarming with people. Nick sat beside
Kevin and AJ sat on the far side of Nick. As Letterman made
cracks, AJ began to speak and Kevin leaned and turned his head
so he could hear him. He was not looking at the monitor when
Tristan and Mason made their entrance. His eyes had fallen on
Nick who suddenly looked pale. Kevin had started to whisper
- to ask Nick if he was okay, unaware at that moment that Nick
had become transfixed by the monitor.
"Whoa, Mamma!" Letterman shouted as he
wiggled his eyebrows. "Damn, Kevin! I need to take myself a
music appreciation class! I don't remember seeing anything like
that in the school band!"
"You say libretto, I say libido..." Paul,
Letterman's resident sidekick began to sing.
Kevin glanced at his host. He was smiling
but puzzled. Enlightenment came when he saw that they were looking
at the monitor and turned to let himself in on the joke. Audiences
at home saw a divided screen. Tristan and Mason were on one
side, stopping for photographers. A long shot of the group filled
the other half of the screen. Some people in the studio audience
were whistling and making cat-calls. Brian looked embarrassed.
He smiled but made a show of hiding his eyes. Howie looked a
little nervous and patted Kevin's shoulder. AJ looked... appreciative.
He watched the screen over the top of his glasses and nodded.
Nick looked like someone had hit him on the back of the head
with a board. His mouth was open and he hadn't blinked. Kevin
was frozen. His smile faded as he stared at the screen.
"Beautiful woman, Kev!" Andre shouted from
the band.
Kevin nodded slightly but didn't respond.
He had never seen Tristan look the way she did tonight - at
least not in public. Her hair is different... Her mouth...
And that fucking dress! Could it be any tighter?... The
group drew a collective gasp when she dropped her bag and bent
down to retrieve it. Mason beat her to it but he wasn't quick
enough to keep her from filling the television screen with her
breasts. Kevin watched as she laughed and thanked him. She looked
like a goddamn movie star - incredibly sultry and hot. There
was nothing demure about this piano player. Kevin felt like
he had been staring at the screen for hours, not seconds. He
didn't comment himself and didn't hear the compliments from
his bandmates or hosts who chatted back and forth attempting
to fill the dead air that Kevin was supposed to be occupying.
Things quickly went from bad to worse when
Asa appeared over Tristan's shoulder and hugged her tightly.
You could tell that she was surprised by his action. Kevin watched
as she glanced over to Mason for assistance. Mason caught the
cue and stepped between the pair as the classical papparzzi
demanded more shots of the three of them but the photographers
wanted Tristan between the two men. Mason reluctantly moved.
Asa's hand found Tristan's bare shoulder for a moment and then
circled her waist. His fingers moved up and down her side.
Kevin fully realized what it meant to 'see
red' that evening. The images on the screen reflected back to
him in shades of scarlet and sienna. He was vaguely aware of
Howie whispering behind him.
"Commercial... let's break..." Howie pleaded
to their host.
The monitor went dark and Kevin became
aware of applause rising from the studio audience. When the
producers broke for a commercial break, Kevin stood and left
the stage. When taping resumed, he was still gone. Lighthearted
excuses were made about him wanting to watch the awards telecast
but the fact was that Kevin was down in the bowels of the old
Ed Sullivan Theater. He had managed to even elude the ever present
Carlos and soon found a men's room that looked as if it hadn't
seen the light of day in months. When he felt confident that
he would be left alone, he went into a stall and leaned over,
permitting the heaves he had stifled earlier to finally make
their escape. Then he stood and went over to a rusty sink and
splashed water on his face. He caught a glimpse of himself in
the mirror. He looked like hell. What in the hell is going
on? Was she seeing Asa out in LA? He looked pretty fucking casual
when they 'unexpectedly' met in the lobby. Were they sharing
a table now? If she won, would he give her a congratulatory
kiss? Would he press her bare breasts against his chest? Had
he done it before? Mason never liked me. Maybe he's just her
beard... Maybe Asa will just stay at the hotel after the ceremony.
He could invite Tristan to his room.... His imagination
was carrying him to dangerous places.
Kevin ran his hands across his mouth and
goatee. On one level he knew he was being ridiculous yet he
couldn't stop considering the worst possibilities. Rage was
quickly giving way to a deep-seated pain and unstoppable fear.
He watched his reflection as his eyes slowly filled, then he
chuckled and wiped the wetness away with the back of his hand.
He had something with him in his bag. Something
that would make him feel better. The sound of the zipper seemed
unusually loud as he pulled it open and glanced quickly towards
the door, hoping no one would find him here. Inside his bag
was a small plastic container that contained a collection of
antidotes guaranteed to ease his paranoia and pain. Moving the
colorful pills and tablets around with his forefinger, he found
what he was looking for in the corner of the box. He didn't
want to appear doped up or drunk so he passed on the Percodan
and Librium. He didn't want to seem too hyper, either, so he
left the small vial of coke and amphetamines alone. He opted
today for a piece of Ecstasy and a joint. With a little luck,
he soon wouldn't care what Tristan was doing, or who she was
doing it with. He laughed at his own thoughts. The only thing
that would ever stop him from caring about Tristan was a bullet.
*****
Holly sat nervously in the green room,
watching the monitor as the remaining group members stood and
bid goodnight to their host and the audience. Letterman cracked
a few jokes about Kevin's disappearance and the group laughed
along but there was an obvious tension in the air. Carlos had
stuck his head in the door half a dozen times, growing more
alarmed as the minutes ticked by. No one had seen Kevin.
Nick was the first to storm in the door.
"Where is he?" The room wasn't large and
his question was answered almost immediately. "Jesus! Did he
come in here, Holly?"
"N..no... No really. He grabbed his bag
and left. He didn't say anything..."
The group and their bodyguards were trying
to decide on a course of action when Kevin appeared in the doorway.
He seemed very calm - even amused at the hubbub. All of the
guys knew him well enough to know that he had been extremely
upset watching Tristan on television. They also had a strong
inkling of his feelings about Asa. Normally, it would have been
an aggravation, but there had been nothing 'normal' about Kevin
for some time. His disappearance only added to their misgivings.
"What the fuck happened to you, asshole!"
Brian screamed into Kevin's face. "You just up and leave in
the middle of a show? Is that how they do things in LA?"
"Back off, dawg..." Kevin drawled. "Had
to piss. What's the big deal?"
"You're full of shit!" Brian growled. "You
got ticked off seeing Tristan with her old boyfriend! Get over
it! Christ! I wish Leigh and I had never gone with you to Virginia!
You've been fucked up ever since you got a piece of her ass
and...."
Brian didn't have a chance to say more.
Kevin had him against the wall before he could take another
breath. It happened so quickly that no one had time to react.
They were nose to nose before Marcus could pull them apart,
both of them red-faced and sputtering. Brian couldn't speak.
Kevin had never gone after him like that.
"Let it go Bri!" Nick shouted. "Kevin had
to take a leak. Period!" He looked over to Kevin, searching
his face - begging for affirmation. "Right, Kev?"
"Right, Nicky. No big deal..." Kevin said
evenly. "Let's get outta here..."
Kevin was calm again. Even to someone who
didn't know him, his reactions would have seemed strange. Holly
and AJ stared at Kevin for a moment and then found themselves
looking at each other as a thread of understanding passed between
them. They knew...
Tristan
Trilogy - Story III
"Circling"
is a work of fiction.
The characters and events portrayed are fictitious.
Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.
Copyright
©2000
All Rights Reserved
No part of this text may be copied or reprinted
without the author's permission.
Direct linking to stories on this site without
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~BEST
VIEWED ON 800 X 600 SCREEN RESOLUTION~
Fiction
by Grace
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