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[Envy ~ The desire for others' traits, status, abilities, or situation]

I've been watching him for a while, every chance I get.

There's always something in his eyes, something that bothers me. It's the way he looks at us, me and the other four Backstreet Boys.

It's like he is undressing us with his eyes, wanting us to be naked and vounerable, so that he and his group can come and take over.

They have been trying for years, and even though the media want so desperately to believe that we are fading and that they are the new thing, they are wrong. We know it, and he knows it. He knows he'll never have what we have, and he doesn't like that.

He wants it all, always have always will.

When I talk to him, he always wants to know what is going on in our lives. It's not just small talk, he is actually interested. He wants to know every little detail so he can create his own little world where his band is the best, and we are those who are stuck on the sideline.

He can wish for that as much as he wants, because he'll never get what we have. That takes work, hard work, and him and his boys never had it in them to work as hard as we do.

They want to so badly, but they never quite get there.

So he tries to live our life, my life. He wants all that I have.

The money, the fame, and the boyfriend.

I've seen the way he looks at my boy, and my poor church-loving boy. Brian is so innocent, and Justin wants to take him from me, and make him dirty.

I'll never let that happen.

But I am not angry or jealous. I know that my boy loves me, and that sync boy doesn't stand a chance. That doesn't stop him though.

He still wants my boy, wants him so badly.

He wants my life.

He can't have it.

He knows that now though.

I made him see it.

Didn't take much really.

I made him come to me so easily, telling him that Brian wanted to speak to him. He didn't understand, didn't see what I was going to do to him.

It took him a while to understand that Brian was no where in sight. It was too late though. He had already finished the wine with the poison in it.

It kills you slowly, and painfully.

It took him a very long time to die.

He had to feel his insides burn, melting into something unrecognisable. I cut him open when he got closer to the end, and made him see what he was becoming.

I didn't follow the old ways, I didn't do what others might have done. I made my own rules on how to kill him. I made it painful, and I made it last for a long time.

In the end he was begging. Crying. Asking me why. Not understanding what he had done.

He couldn't see the sin he had committed, didn't understand what he had done.

He deserved death.

 

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