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He walks among the crowd, sweating. The hall was filled with girls of all ages, so different yet still so alike. Every single one of them was here for the same reason, to see the same band.

He ran his hand through his hair. It was naturally golden blonde, but he had dyed it platinum blonde, and had it cut short. He always had it spiked up, even now when sweat was running down his face. Sweat from fighting the crowd for the last hour, waiting.

He was tall, dressed in a black tank top and black baggy pants. He had had to leave the chains that usually hung from them at home, as they would not allow that inside the hall. Two tattoos marked both his upper arms, and if you looked closely you could see two more on each shoulder. He had left his leather coat at home as well, and was glad for it. The girls here would have ripped it to shreds.

He shook his head, feeling the headache coming. It always came, yet never at the same time, and never this late. He was getting used to the noise. He had never thought young teenage girls could make that much noise. The older girls, and the guys and parents were quiet, keeping their eyes on the stage or on their kids.

He brushed past a mother and her daughter on the way forward, and heard the mothers angry muttering about people who had no manners. He heard that a lot.

But what else could he do. He had to get to the front row, whatever the cost. He had been working on it for the last hour, and during the warm up act it had been nearly impossible. He knew he had to get there before it was too late.

He cursed the people who had decided to have only standing places at the concert as he brushed past more girls. He did not care about the looks he got from them and their parents, he just wanted to get to the front row.

As the music started he was there, standing where he wanted to be. Now he would be able to see the one he was here to see. He did not give a rats ass about the music, boy bands just weren't his thing. He could live with the music, but only because he would be able to see the one person that had ever really stirred up any feelings in him.

He turned his attention to the stage as the music started, and over the speakers someone started to talk.

"welcome...welcome...welcome...."

The music had an echo to it, and he did not know if it was supposed to be that way. He had his eyes locked on the stage, waiting

"backstreet boys...boys...boys...."

Lights started to appear, and he could see people moving around.

"Kevin Richardson....richardson...hardson...."

The screams seemed far away

"Brian Littrell...littrell...ttrell...."

They grew a little louder, but still far away

"Howie Dorough...dorough...rough.."

Still growing, yet far away. It was like a dream, but he had been here before. He knew what came next, and a smile grew on his face, waiting.

"AJ McLean...mclean...clean.."

His smile was wide now, and he could suddenly hear the screams. They were loud, as if they were trapped inside his head. He wanted to scream, the feeling to much to bare. But he was used to it, he'd been here before, watching. Only one name left now, yet he hardly noticed the loud screams that came when the name was said.

"and Justin Timberlake....timberlake...erlake..."

 

 

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