CHAPTER 1

Kevin had been in a pensive mood since he had called AJ days ago. They had finally had phones installed just after Christmas and he had called AJ to give him their number. Now Kevin seemed preoccupied.

The rest of the group, together with management and their label, had decided that they would like to discuss doing a short tour before they began recording their next album. Talks would begin in a couple of weeks to solidify plans and begin rehearsals before promotion, press conferences and photo shoots began. The decision to go ahead with this would ultimately be up to Kevin. They had decided between themselves that they wouldn't go forward without him and wouldn't push if he wasn't ready.

The truth was that they doubted that he would be ready without a strong dose of encouragement from Tristan, but no one wanted to speak to her about this. They weren't sure how fragile she was, but they knew she would be sympathetic. Tristan wouldn't want to stand in their way or be a factor in whether they moved forward or not. None of the guys wanted to put that pressure on her and so all they could do was sit back and wait.

Nick, in particular, was concerned about Kevin's plans or lack of them. When he had spoken to Kevin at Christmas, Nick thought he sounded less than positive about returning to Orlando at all. If Kevin decided that he would leave the Backstreet Boys, they would have to fold - he wouldn't be replaced. They needed him, not only as a performer but also as a source of discipline and leadership. They all realized how much they depended on him when he started to fall apart at the end of the last tour and wasn't there for them. He needed Tristan more than he needed them, however, and if he was forced to choose, the group knew he would choose her. The label execs could get nasty if they chose to. They had all signed new contracts last summer. If Kevin pulled out, he would be in breach of contract and as much as the label professed their love for each of the boys, the guys knew that what they really loved were the dollars that they generated. No Backstreet Boys meant no dollars, and no Kevin meant no Backstreet Boys. They could all end up in legal trouble.

Am I ready to go back to that? Kevin didn't really feel that he was and wasn't sure that he would ever be. Tristan had only been back for a short time when he had talked to AJ but they had made progress together. He didn't want to risk losing that.

Kevin and Tristan had spent their days working on their house. Contractors had been hired and the work was coming along well. The English basement had been finished off to the point where Kevin had begun to order recording equipment and some study furniture. The downstairs would be his. Heat and air conditioning had also been installed and local carpenters had begun the foundation for a workshop that was separated from the main house. Flooring and cabinet people were coming tomorrow to begin work on the kitchen.

Kevin found that he was enjoying all of this remodeling and refinishing and liked seeing their house come to life before his eyes. Tristan had left most of the details to Kevin. His perfectionism proved helpful in dealing with lackadaisical workers. Neither of them had discussed the Backstreet Boys aside from the occasional song hummed or sung subconsciously. Music had not been a strong presence in either of their lives for some time now, although it always seemed to lurk just below the surface. Kevin knew that he had to make a decision and he knew that it would not only affect him, but also the rest of the group and Tristan. He had said nothing to her about his call to AJ.

Within two weeks, and with the addition of lots of overtime, their new kitchen was virtually completed. It had turned into a real cook's kitchen but was also comfortable enough to become a gathering spot for guests and family. A greenhouse window had been installed and a local mason was finishing up work on a brick floor. As much as Kevin derived a sense of satisfaction out of seeing their plans become reality, he was happier with seeing Tristan's excitement as the work progressed. He had listened with amusement as Tristan and the local kitchen contractor had gotten into a heated discussion about cabinet hardware. That arrogant S.O.B. didn't stand a chance. He may have been a knowledgeable man, but he didn't know Tristan and before their discussion was over you would have thought that drawer handles were more important than a roof. The contractor was patronizing and Tristan was feisty, but when they were done she had her hardware and had managed to convince the contractor that the style had been his suggestion. Kevin shook his head, smiling. She was good.

Jerald had stopped by on Thursday afternoon to see how all the work was coming. Tristan had gone to a local greenhouse, anxious to put some potted herbs in the new window and bring some green into their house. Kevin saw Jerald approaching through the woods from the direction of his mother's house and had the door open for him when he arrived.

"Man, I can't believe what's happened to this place!" Jerald said as he scanned the main floor. "Are the bedrooms upstairs done yet?"

"They're next on the list," Kevin answered as he twisted the tops off of a couple of beers. He handed one to Jerald. "Guess it's time to move the bed out of the dining room."

"I guess that depends on what you're eating!" Jerald laughed and took a large swig from his beer.

When Kevin didn't respond, Jerald looked over at him and knew at once that his attempt at humor had been a mistake. He remembered when Kevin used to laugh along at these kinds of remarks and, in fact, had made his share of them. But when it came to Tristan, sexual innuendo was off limits. Jerald found himself wondering exactly what their sex life was like. It must be pretty damn intense. He knew that Kevin had certainly had a number of all types of women, but Tristan must fit into some special category. Jerald couldn't seem to get his mind off this train of thought and began to wonder what she looked like naked. He'd come close to finding out when his family had surprised her while she was cleaning at Kevin's house in Orlando over a year ago. He had learned a little more from the magazine pictures he had seen this past fall - especially the one where Tristan's fingers had roamed down under the waistband of Kevin's trunks.....Jesus - stop! Don't be an asshole! We're talking about your brother's girlfriend, for Christ's sake! Jerald changed the subject.

"Saw Aunt Jackie today.", Jerald said a little too brightly.

"Yeah? How's she doing?" Kevin pulled out a barstool and joined his brother at the kitchen island.

"You know Aunt Jackie...still trying to save souls." Jerald laughed. "She said she spoke to Brian a few days ago."

"How's he doing?" Kevin asked absently.

Neither of then heard Tristan when she came in with her collection of potted herbs.

"She says the group is ready to start pre-production work. Said something about a new tour, but they're waiting on you, Kev. What's going on?"

Before he could answer, another voice repeated the question.

"Yes, Kevin. What is going on?" Tristan stood looking into the kitchen, a tray of plants in her hands.

She looked from Kevin to Jerald and then back to Kevin again. Her expression was both questioning and disappointed. Kevin sighed, closed his eyes and began to rub his forehead. When Tristan got no response from him, she looked to Jerald for some answers.

"When is this pre-production suppose to begin, Jerald?

Jerald hesitated several seconds before he responded. "Uh....Monday, I think."

"Monday? This Monday?" The shock in her voice was evident.

"Tristan....." Kevin began.

"I'm going for a walk." she interrupted, setting down her plants. Tristan turned and walked out of the door, slamming it behind her. Kevin watched her through a window as she disappeared into the trees.

"Shit, Kev! I'm sorry! I didn't know it was a secret or anything." Jerald apologized.

"It's okay, Jerald. You'd better go though. I'll catch up with you later."

"Don't you want me to help you look....."

"No. I'll find her. I've put this off for too long." Kevin turned to his brother and gave him a half-hearted smile. "We'll be okay. Don't worry."

Kevin took the pots out of the flat and placed most of them in the greenhouse window. Then he put on his jacket and went out of the door in search of Tristan. It was bitter outside and after about forty minutes of searching for her in the woods and at the lakeshore, Kevin thought that maybe she had returned home. When he reached the porch steps, he heard the sound of the piano coming from inside. It was the first time she had played the instrument - the first time she had played anything at all in three months. He stepped inside the house quietly, afraid that she would stop if she heard him. Kevin stood near the fireplace watching her. She had lost herself in 'Air and Variations' - their piece. The intricate fingerwork required to play the piece was slowing her down a little, but he could detect no mistakes. When she had finished, she sat still on the bench, looking out of the window as if lost in thought. Then she spoke to him, knowing all along that he had been there listening to her.

"You've known about this for some time, haven't you?" she asked, still not facing him.

Kevin didn't move form his spot. He still wasn't comfortable with the idea of touring and promotions and didn't know what Tristan's reaction would be like. Since she had returned, the business aspects of their lives had been ignored even though they both knew that the ghost of the Backstreet Boys wasn't going away.

"AJ told me about it when I called him a while back," Kevin confessed, watching her carefully.

"Why didn't you say anything to me?"

Kevin put his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. He felt as if the temperature had dropped inside the house.

"I guess I was worried about how you'd take it, baby. Hell, Tris, I don't even know how I feel about it."

"I thought you liked the touring and performing - the energy of it all." Tristan was still facing forward. Kevin couldn't read her face. The tone of her voice was completely neutral.

"I don't know if that's true anymore since...."

"Since the last tour?" she finished.

Unspoken statements hung heavily on the air. Since you ran away to Key West? Since you screwed Lily? Since you lost the baby? Since you ended up in the nut house? Since you thought I was sleeping with Asa? Since you cut yourself open? Kevin watched Tristan unconsciously run her finger down the scar on her wrist.

"The last tour didn't go too well, did it Tris?" Kevin noticed that he was breathing through his mouth and his heart was racing a little.

Tristan pulled the cover down over the piano keys and ran her hand across the wood. "The tour was extremely successful, Kevin - from a business standpoint, anyway. Our personal problems weren't caused by the Backstreet Boys. I wish we could throw it all on them, but we can't, can we?"

"No...."

"What do youwant, Kevin?" Her hand had stopped moving and he could tell that she was awaiting his answer intently.

"I want you, Tris."

"What about the group? Don't you want them, too?"

"Not if it means losing you again."

Tristan finally turned on the bench to face Kevin. He was surprised to see a wistful smile on her lips.

"You have me, Kevin, but I know that I can't be everything to you. You need the music, too. We both do. Go back to the guys - they need you. Give the public Kevin Backstreet - just leave Kevin Richardson for me."

Tristan rose from the bench and walked to him still wearing her slight smile. She put her arms around his neck and leaned up to kiss him deeply. After the kiss broke, Kevin held her tightly.

"This scares me a little, baby."

Tristan pulled back and ran her fingers lightly down the side of his face.

"It scares me, too, but it's time to let the music back in. I want our home to be a cocoon, not a prison or isolation tank. Besides," Tristan chuckled, "I think you're starting to suffer from 'control deprivation'. You need your little army to look out for. They probably miss your anal retentive qualities."

"Anal retentive?" Kevin asked as he walked across the room to straighten the piano bench. Tristan noticed that he made sure it lined up directly with middle C. He actually stepped back to survey the accuracy of his placement. Tristan rolled her eyes and headed for the kitchen. "I am not anal retentive!" Kevin said loudly and defensively to Tristan's back.

"Whatever..." she yelled back to him.

"Just because I'm not a slob...."

Tristan stopped in her tracks and turned to him. "Like me, you mean?" she asked seriously.

"Now, I didn't say that, Tris..." Kevin returned her seriousness, trying to douse this potential fire.

To Kevin's surprise, Tristan burst out laughing.

"Oh, Kevin! I thought that you were getting back to your old self when I noticed you had started sorting the firewood by size and weight, but when I came back here after confronting you and Jerald, any doubts I had evaporated!"

"Why? What happened?" he frowned.

Tristan pointed to the greenhouse window. "I see you've placed all the herbs on the shelves in alphabetical order!", she grinned.

"So?" Kevin folded his arms across his chest in classic defense mode.

"Well, what about these two pots you left on the counter? Did they give you trouble?" Tristan was enjoying this.

"Look! This one says 'flat leaf Italian parsley'! Where should it go? By 'parsley'? By Italian? What?" "You forgot 'flat leaf'," Tristan giggled.

Kevin made a face at her. "And look at this! You have 'coriander - cilantro' here! Which is it? Coriander or cilantro?" Tristan thought Kevin was trying to make some kind of point but it was escaping her.

"Just put it up there....with the 'C's'", she waved her hand towards the window.

"But you have 'clary sage' up there! Where I put it depends on whether it's called coriander or cilantro!" Kevin sounded thoroughly exasperated.

Kevin's hands were on his hips and he was tapping his foot. Tristan tried to control her laughter and wiped her eyes. These seemed to be monumental decisions in Kevin's eyes. He definitely needed to get back to work.

Email Grace

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