A/N: Written in rotating first person, from the point of view of each of the Boys. Title based on the REM song "Losing My Religion." If you have difficulty reading the different colors on the black background, please click here for a plain version. I do not own or know the Backstreet Boys. This is a work of fiction.
***Chapter 1***
Brian
I looked up from the magazine I was reading as my cell phone rang. I picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Brian? Do you know who Howie’s on the phone with?”
I was puzzled. “Paula?” I asked, wondering why she was calling me about her own son. “No, I don’t know . . . you know he’s always on the phone.” I looked around the Green Room for Howie. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear his voice drifting in softly from the hallway. “Want me to tell him you want to talk to him?”
“Yes, please, Brian. I’ve been trying to get through for hours and all I get is his voicemail,” she explained as I got up and walked to the door. “He normally gets back to me so quickly . . . I’m worried about him. I haven’t heard from him in days.”
I stuck my head out the door and saw Howie, leaning against the wall with his back to me, deep in conversation on his own cell phone.
I tapped him on the shoulder. “Howie?”
He turned around, an impatient look on his Latin features. “What? This is an important call.”
Aren’t they all . . . I thought absently. “Your mom’s on the phone. She’s been trying to get through to you for a while.”
Howie rolled his eyes. “Tell her I’ll call her tonight.” Without another word, he turned his back to me again and went back to his previous conversation.
I blinked. That seemed a little out of character for him. He usually talked to his mom often while he was on tour. Deciding that he must be on the phone with someone pretty important, I politely relayed Howie’s message to his mother.
I clicked my cell phone off and returned to my seat on the plush couch.
“Geez, Howie’s almost been surgically attached to his phone lately,” Kevin observed, sitting down next to me. “Think he’s up to something?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Like what? Drug trafficking? This is Howie we’re talking about.”
I picked up my forgotten magazine and tried to find my place.
~~~ AJ
I knocked on Howie’s hotel room door loudly. “C’mon, Howie, it’s late, and the natives are restless!”
I shifted eagerly from one foot to the other. What’s taking him so long?
I knocked again. “Howie, let’s go! You, me, and Nicky are goin’ out tonight, remember? You’re holdin’ us up!”
I waited impatiently until Howie finally opened the door.
He was wearing an old sweatshirt and jeans. I blinked. “You’re not going like that, are you?”
“I’m not going,” Howie said softly. “I’m just not really in the mood.”
“Uhh . . . oh. Ooookay. You feelin’ all right?” I asked, looking him over.
He smiled broadly. “I’m fine, AJ. Don’t worry about me.”
“O-Okay,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. Nervous? Why the hell should I be nervous? “You just . . . you looked a little tired. Your eyes are . . . never mind.” I forced a grin. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
I turned and went down the hall to collect Nick.
I tried to shake off the vague feeling that something was wrong, but I couldn’t manage it.
Nick opened the door, sporting black vinyl pants and a sleeveless black shirt. “Just let me get my jacket,” he said, heading back into his suite momentarily. “Where’s Howie?” he called from within.
“Not coming,” I called back. “He said he wasn’t in the mood.”
Nick returned, zipping up his winter jacket. “How come?”
I shrugged as Nick closed the door behind him. “He didn’t say.” We started to head to the elevator. “You think he’s been actin’ weird lately?”
Nick looked thoughtful as he hit the button for the elevator. “Maybe a little. He’s been spending a lot of time alone or on the phone.”
“When did this start?” I asked, wracking my brain. The elevator announced its arrival with a sharp ding and we stepped inside.
“I don’t remember,” Nick answered. “I’m sure he’s fine, though. You know Howie; if something’s seriously wrong, he’ll let us know.”
I nodded and tried to convince myself of that fact.
~~~ Kevin
I pulled a pillow over my head, trying to block out the blaring music. But the sound wasn’t muted enough to allow me to sleep. I sighed and removed the pillow.
Okay, that’s it, I decided. I disentangled myself from my warm blankets and headed for the door, grumbling to myself about the awful things I was planning to do to my fellow bandmate.
I propped my door open and knocked loudly on the one next door.
There was no answer.
Howie’s door was also propped open. Good Howie, I thought. Share your cheesy music with the whole hotel.
“Howie!” I shouted over the music. There was still no answer.
I sighed and pushed the door open.
“Howie!” I shouted again, entering the suite. Howie was sitting Indian style on the bed, mumbling something I couldn’t hear.
I went over the stereo and lowered the volume. Howie didn’t respond. He continued mumbling incoherently, his glazed eyes fixed on a point on the ceiling.
“Howie?” I asked uneasily. I waved my hand in front of his face.
He didn’t react. I couldn’t recognize the strange language rolling off his tongue.
I started to get really worried. I grabbed Howie’s shoulders and shook him. “Howie! What’s wrong? Snap out of it!”
Howie blinked, his eyes finally focusing on mine. “Huh?”
“What’s wrong?” I repeated.
I was shocked when he suddenly pushed me back from the bed. “What the hell did you break me out of that for?! I was trying to meditate!”
I blinked. “You were blaring the music and you sounded like you were freakin’ possessed.”
“Never interfere in my meditation again!” Howie barked.
I stared at him. I’d only seen him this mad a few times since I’d known him. “I was just worried. You were mumbling in some foreign language.”
Howie’s brown eyes widened. “I-I was?”
I nodded. “It was pretty weird.”
I nearly fell over as Howie broke into an awed smile. “I did it,” he whispered. “I really did it. I’ve reached the next level!”
“Howie . . . what are you talking about? What’s going on?”
Howie’s face turned serious once again, a look that never suited his gentle features. “It’s none of your concern.”
“It is my concern if I think there’s something wrong with one of my band members!”
“I’m perfectly well,” Howie answered in a voice only faintly resembling his own.
“Well, your music was keeping me and probably half the hotel up.”
His face at last softened. “Oh, sorry about that, Kev. It’s late. I shouldn’t have had it that loud.”
“It’s . . . okay,” I managed, boggled by his sudden personality change. “I guess I’ll go back to bed, then.” I turned to leave, but a nagging in the back of my mind caused me to stop. “You sure you can’t tell me what’s wrong?”
The hard voice answered me, not the familiar gentle one I’d heard a moment ago. “There is nothing wrong. My meditation is none of your business. Please leave.”
I shivered, having never heard his voice quite that cold.
“Goodnight, Howie.”
~~~ “Do you guys think there might be something wrong with Howie?” I asked at breakfast the next morning.
“Other than him being permanently attached to his cell phone, no,” Brian said, spreading cream cheese onto a bagel.
“He’s spending a lot of time alone,” AJ remarked. “He didn’t go out with Nick and I last night.”
“Maybe it’s better that he didn’t,” Nick moaned, rubbing his head. “I have an awful hangover and didn’t sleep nearly enough.”
Brian shot him a combination annoyed/protective look.
“I’m not sure Howie got any more sleep than you two,” I said. “He woke me up around three or four by playing really loud music. When I went to ask him to turn it down, he said he’d been meditating. But he’d been . . . I dunno, talking in tongues or something like that. It was weird.”
The others all stopped what they were doing and looked up at me.
“Talking in tongues?” Brian repeated skeptically. “Sure you weren’t dreaming, cus?”
“I’m sure,” I replied. “He didn’t even notice when I came in. I had to physically shake him to snap him out of it. When I asked him about it, he bit my head off.”
Nick nearly spit out his orange juice. “This is Howie we’re talking about, right?”
I nodded, hoping my concern was getting through to them.
“Does anyone remember when Howie started actin’ weird?” AJ asked.
I thought for a minute. “You know, he acted a little strange when he got lost looking for that church in Jersey,” I said slowly.
“Right,” my cousin agreed. “He couldn’t find the church and he said he ended up at some prayer organization.”
“So, he learned some meditation techniques from them,” Nick said, gulping down his juice. “What’s the big deal?”
“It’s more than that,” AJ said impatiently. “His personality’s changing.”
“Hey, guys,” Howie’s voice said behind me. He sounded tired.
“Geez, man, did you sleep at all last night?” AJ asked worriedly as Howie sat down.
I gasped at the dark circles under Howie’s eyes. He looked awful. Was he meditating all night? I wondered. Should I have stayed with him . . . ?
“Howie, are you all right?” Brian finally asked directly.
Howie smiled brightly. “I’ve never been better, Brian.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I saw AJ shudder.
~~~