Nothing More, Nothing Less

I've been sitting here for days, trying to understand what happened. Trying to understand why we don't see each other anymore. But I do know who's fault it is: mine. Entirely. I couldn't even try to blame anyone else. If only I hadn't told him...
Three weeks ago I had told my boyfriend - his name is Philip, by the way - that I had had a one-night stand. With none other than Nick Carter. I had desperately tried to explain that it didn't mean a thing and how or why I let it happen. For a while it seemed he'd forgive me... Of course it wasn't the same with Philip anymore. He was different, even cold sometimes, but I knew he needed time to handle it. The way he touched me or kissed me changed as well, but still I hoped things would get back to how they were. I was so stupid, naive even, to think that time would heal his wounds...

I remember the night in every detail, even though I had been drunk most of the time. The night, or rather the few hours, that I spent with Nick of the Backstreet Boys.
My friend Christina and I were fans of the band for years and when they finally toured again, we booked rooms in the same hotel the Backstreet Boys were staying at in our hometown. Anything to meet "our" Boys.
The concert had been amazing, exciting - and when we drove back to the hotel, we hardly dared to imagine this night could get any better. But it did. The band, their crew and everyone who was there with them threw a party in the hotel's own huge disco room. Open for hotel guests... You can bet your ass that we didn't hesitate a second to go in and party with them.
My fave Backstreet Boy was, or rather still is Brian. But that night he didn't lay eyes one me once. He was busy getting cosy with his long-time girlfriend Leighanne, but that was ok. I had to admit they looked incredibly good together - and in love. To be honest, I didn't have any intentions of getting as close to any of them as I did in the end. I was thrilled already just to be there, just to watch them privately and enjoy this party with them.
But then there was Nick. We had been at the party for a little over half an hour and Christina had already met AJ's best friend, who she had a blast with. I was left alone, watching the scene that took place around me, when suddenly Nick walked over to me, two glasses in his hands. It didn't take me long to realize he was trying to hit on me. Nick, the one with the image of being so shy with girls. Just to let you know: the key word here is "image". He sure wasn't a shy teenager anymore (if he's ever been?!). He knew exactly what he wanted - and amazingly enough, it was me!
Can you say flattered? Can you say overwhelmed? Sure, he wasn't my fave, but damn, he was a Backstreet Boy and I liked him. Liked him since before I had met him. He could've had half of the girls in this room tonight, but he had chosen me. Who was I to push him away? I had dreamed of this for so long (I just had to replace Brian's face with Nick's...) and it was finally coming true.
Two hours and lots of alcohol later I found myself in Nick's room. Another three hours later I was getting dressed again. The sex with him had been fantastic. If I allowed myself to compare it to Philip - just the pure act, not the emotion - I had to admit the sex with Nick had been better, even though hardly any feelings had been involved. Sure, he seemed to like me and he was an ok guy, as far as I could tell, but we were both very aware that it had only been a one-night-stand. I didn't bother to stay the whole night. Instead, after we had been too exhausted for more, I got up and dressed and told Nick I would leave. He didn't try a thing to make me stay, but that was alright.
If it wasn't for Philip, I probably wouldn't regret what I did. The whole time with Nick I knew what I was doing, even though the alcohol had blurred my brain. I never expected anything from him, never thought it was going to end as a love story. That is crap and every fan that hops into bed with a celebrity on the first night or on nights like this should be aware of that. By the time we were in Nick's room, it wasn't even a dream come true anymore. It was just my vanity. I repeat: this was Nick Carter wanting me and I would lie if I said it didn't make me feel like a beauty queen.

Philip sensed that something was different after Christina and I returned the next day. I was keeping a distance to him at any cost, which was very unusual for me. I should've masked my guilty conscience better, I know - but it was killing me. I felt so bad for betraying him.
I could've kept on repeating that nothing was wrong with me and after a while Philip would've maybe bought it, but I grew paranoid. I imagined he knew, or that sooner or later he'd find out, although I knew that was impossible. Christina wouldn't say a word about it to him, so I was safe. But after a cruel nightmare I decided I had to tell him myself, before I'd go insane. We had a terrible fight. I cried and begged and pleaded on my knees for him to forgive me. I said I was sorry, and I was honest when I said I regretted it. I realized that losing Philip hadn't been worth it. In the back of my mind I had thought, when I slept with Nick, that I was making a dream come true for me, but I was wrong. It had been nothing but a one-night-stand. It had been nothing compared to what I found in Philip's arms.
We had promised each other once that we'd always be together and no other could come between us. I had ignored it just this once, but once was enough - and everything was taken from me.
No one's to blame but myself. Even though that night was causing so much pain now, I wasn't even feeling angry at Nick. I didn't think he was an ass for using me like he did, or for just letting me leave like he did that night - because I had used him just the same.
I wish it hadn't been necessary for me to actually make this mistake to realize how silly my dream about Brian had been. It's alright for fans to have fantasies and to dream about getting close to their object of affection - I still have my dream world about Brian. But I wasn't allowed to complain about my tears, now that reality had hit me. I've had to realize the hard way that there's a huge difference between my dreams and reality. I've had to lose someone so precious for something I should've seen before: that my love wasn't going to be returned in the way I wanted...

What the hell is this realization good for now? Now that Philip is gone?!
I wish I could just pick up the phone and ask him how he is, ask him what is going to happen with the two of us. I'm dying to know when or if he's coming back to me.
But I can't just pick up the phone and call him because I have no clue where he is. I called his friends, but either they don't know or aren't gonna tell me. The thought of him being with someone else, as some kind of revenge or because he thinks he found love somewhere else is slowly killing me. Now I know what I did to him, what I did to us. I know why he grew more and more quiet the past days, until everything had ended in silence.
I'd give anything to turn back time. I'd do anything to get him back, no matter what kind of fool I'd have to make of myself. In the end it's Brian again, who creeps into my mind, teaching me another lesson about what love can be about...

Where can we go from here?
All I know is that I love you still.
Sometimes we do things against our will.
I know I cry lonely tears...
Where can we go from here?

Tell me where can I go to get away
from the pain of loving you?

Liked the story? Or not? Got something to tell me? My mailbox is waiting for your comments:

Back to Molly's stories
Back to main page