Mackenzie Waterman stared at her favorite poster; Nick Carter. Her favorite Backstreet Boy, and the man who would fall in love with her, take her hand in marriage and eventually father her two children. She had it all planned out. As soon as Nick saw her face he would fall in love with her instantly. That is what Mackenzie thought anyway. Mackenzie couldn't think of a better time to put her plan into action, so she decided it would have to be done at the next Backstreet Boys concert next week. Mackenzie was not completely obsessed. She knew there was a chance that Nick wouldn't want to go along with her "plan". She needed to let the world know that Nick Carter was hers. She had the perfect plan.
~*~ Mackenzie wasn't what people would call your typical fan. Her wardrobe consisted of only black clothes and black shoes. She only wore dark make-up and even dyed her hair black. Her parents often called her a lost cause and gave up any hope of her being "normal".
~*~ Concert day had come and Mackenzie was ready to put her plan into immediate action. She dressed in a pair of black leather pants that her father had forbid and a black tank top. She made sure that make her make-up was as dark as possible, thickly lining her eyes with black eyeliner. She popped in her black contacts so that her normally blue eyes didn't throw off her outfit. She let her hair hang down flat and limp, the "hippies" look her mother called it. She grabbed her large black purse that contained everything she would need and her car keys. She stomped down the stairs nosily. "Where are you going Mack?" her dad asked. "Out" she replied coolly walking out the front door and letting it slam behind her. The drive to the Anaheim Pond wasn't too far from her home.
~*~ Mackenzie parked her car and then made her way to the entrance. She frowned at the obvious line. She took this time to make fun of the various fans in her head. She divided them into three different groups. There was your skanky variety, dressed in the shortest dresses and skirts. Wearing heels and sandals in the dead of winter. Their whole bodies sparkled with body glitter and little paste-it stars. Next there were your classic fan, adorning Backstreet Boy tee shirts and buttons. Black and blue ribbons in their hair. The name of their favorite boy penciled on there face in eyeliner, or if you were stupid, Sharpie marker. After you got past them, there was the "older fan". The ones that Mackenzie liked the most. They were the smart women, the ones that could get into places the younger ones couldn't. They were mothers and older sisters. Working women with a life. Jobs to go to and real problems to deal with. They usually traveled in packs. Many of them getting together just for one blessed night of "Backstreet Bliss". They usually reserved their screaming for the show, unlike the classic fan that could scream long before the show and long after. After the show, they went to the hottest clubs, looking for the guys, hoping that that particular night the guys felt like partying. Yes, Mackenzie wanted to be one of them, she was an adult, 18 was an adult, but she had yet to be accepted into any one of the three groups. True it could have been her appearance, to put it bluntly she looked like she belonged at a Marilyn Manson concert.
~*~ Mackenzie was shown to her seat in the front row. For once in her life she had had good luck and won tickets. She sold her old ones, which were in the nosebleeds. The money that she got for them helped to finance her plan.
~*~ The concert was as awesome as Mackenzie had expected. Her eyes never left Nick as he performed. She could have sworn they even made eye contact one or twice during the show. She had to put up with the "classic" fans screaming "I love you Nick" in her ear. Silently in her mind she retorted with, "Nick is mine". After the show Mackenzie was admitted back stage. She always imagined she would be terribly nervous. To her surprise she wasn't in the slightest. She was calm, cool, and collected. While she was thinking about making the right approach, Nick walked right past her and into an empty room. 'Perfect', Mackenzie thought in her mind.
~*~ She stood in the doorway watching as Nick played video games. He didn't even feel her eyes on the back of his head. She studied the room. She needed a quick exit. She opened her purse quietly. She didn't want Nick to hear her. She pulled out the saturated chloroform rag and began to approach Nick. Nick might as well have been sleep; this was going to be too easy.
~*~ Mackenzie held the rag over Nick's face and he promptly passed out. Her lips twisted in a triumphant smile. She glanced over at the door one more time making sure that nobody else was coming. Nobody. She dug in her purse and immediately began to get to work. Nick flinched even in his unconsciousness.
~*~ Mackenzie ran to the parking lot. She had barely had time to admire her work before she heard footsteps in the hallway. She left quickly, happy that she at least got to finish. She lit a cigarette and hopped into her car. She couldn't help but laugh all the way home.
~*~ Nick woke up slowly. His head was pounding and he was shocked to see all of his band mates standing over him. "What happened?" he asked groggily. Just as he said that he felt the stinging on his chest. It hurt like hell. He lifted up his shirt slowly and the five men shared a gasp between them. Tattooed across Nick's chest was, "OWNED BY MACKENZIE".
