Chapter 8

	“Are you Whitney and Bobbi?”

	“Sure thing. That’s the drawing I made for Kevin last night at the club,”
I said telling a little white lie about where we had been.
 
	“Follow me. I’ll show you to your seats and get you through security,”
he said taking each one of us by the arm.

	We got a few looks from teenagers. Some even leaned over to whisper
to their friends. I just held my head higher and looked over at Whitney who was
doing the same thing. 

	Our seats were front-row, center on one of the sides of the pentagonal
stage. The man handed us backstage passes and showed his own pass to get
through the barriers set up by the security squad who all wore yellow shirts.

	The crowd was loud because the opening acts had finished and they had
been left to wait for the Boys to appear. Sadly I realized that I could only
recognize Kevin and Brian. Leaving the other three at this point nameless and
faceless. 

	I turned to the little girl or six or seven sitting next to me on a folding
chair and said down. 

	“Hi,” I said smiling.

	“Hello.”

	“Can you answer a question about the Backstreet Boys for me?”

	“Sure. What do you want to know? Their birthdays, favorite colors,
middle names? What?” she said excitedly.

	“Actually, it’s more simple than that. I just need to know what the names
of the other ones are, besides Kevin and Brian,” I said realizing that this girl
knew so much more than me.

	“You don’t know who they are?” she asked shocked that I didn’t know.

	“Well, I know who Brian and Kevin are, but none of the others.”

	“Oh,” she said pulling a program out from under her chair. “This one is
Nick. He’s my favorite. Isn’t he cute? And this is Howie. He’s not as cute but
he’s supposed to be the nicest one. This one is AJ. He’s funny. I don’t like him
too much. He’s kinda weird,” she said pointing to each one on the program
cover. So that was AJ. Not too bad. A little weird, but hey that’s no problem
with me. I wondered if he sang as well in concert as he did on that song. 

	“Thank you,” I said smiling. She was a cute little girl. Blonde curls, big
blue eyes, petit. The kind of child everyone adored. I looked over at her mom.
She was pretty young. Maybe 28 or a few years younger. She smiled lovingly at
her daughter and then looked at me. 

Chapter 9

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