"I'm afraid is not a joke, Agent Barr." He tells me, and I realize I said that out loud. "You're the only one with the necessary attributes for this assignment."

"What attributes? I will never fit in there!" I growl, watching the photographs of the big, fat man smiling between five teenagers, all dressed in white. "I don't look like a boy-toy!"

"You will manage." And I can see there's no point in arguing. My fate is sealed. "We suspect that Mr. Pearlman is using his company to transport drugs and weapons outside the country, and that this latest operation with the boybands is just a smoke screen for bigger things. But we need evidence. And that's where you come in."

"Can't I just offer my services as bodyguard or something?" I groan, trying to avoid the inevitable.

"You wouldn't have enough access, Barr." He isn't smiling, but I can see that he does find humor in my suffering. "The man is doing a big number of being the boys' best friend. However, we know that he also is moving behind their backs. The ones in the picture you're holding are the Backstreet Boys. They think they're the only band Pearlman is managing, but we know he's already backing at least other two bands… And we are going to use that in our advantage. If he's stealing the kids' money, we'll at least be able to put him in jail until we find proof for the other charges. So don't fuck up. You're one of our best agents, Barr. I know you can do it."

      I nod, picking up the dossier with the info on Pearlman, as well as my new identity. I try to ignore the snickers of my colleagues as I walk out of the office and out of the building. They know, of course they know, and they find it amusing. Amused that my age finally got me in a 'kiddie' assignment, because I know that there's no way that I'll be able to crack Pearlman illegal transportation business, so I'll end up babysitting a bunch of singing teenagers until we can jail the fat blob for fraud.

      Yay me.

      I hate my life.

* * *

      Germany was not like anything the group had expected. And they sure hadn't expected to have full stadiums of girls yelling their names, or knowing all the lyrics from a record they had barely released a month before.

      Christopher Allan Kirkpatrick smiled as he turned his sights from the window of the room to his band mates. They were all sharing a room because Lou, their manager and best friend, had explained that they really couldn't spend that much money, and for Chris, that was fine. It meant he had more time to get to know everyone.

      There was JC, who had been his friend before the idea of the group came up, and who had been the first Chris had thought of calling. And JC had a great voice, that really came out in every solo he had. Sure, he was a little spacey and when it came to music he was lost in a world of his own, but he was cool. Then JC had called Justin, a kid from his Mouseketeer days. Chris hadn't been that sure of having a 15 year old kid in the group,
but Lou had been ecstatic. It was good for the 'cute factor' of the group according to Pearlman, so Chris had had to accept. Now, almost a year and a half later, he was glad of it. Justin was just a kid, and he saw everything with eyes of wonder… but at the same time he tried to be professional, not let the fame get him. Chris smiled, he was going to try his best to keep that shining innocence in the kid's eyes.

      Joey had been the fourth member of the group and they had meet him in the most casual way. Dancing in a club. Chris looked at the young man who was sitting in the bed, reading an old Superman comic in German –not that Joey could read German, but they hadn't been able to get any American edition- not paying much attention to the group. Joey was an excellent dancer, choreography be damned. And his voice… Joey was the baritone of the group, which meant he should get as many solos as Justin and JC, but Lou didn't know shit about harmonizing quintets and had sent Joey to the background. Even so, Chris listened every rare moment when Joey got a solo, and was marveled by that voice, and was damn glad that Joey had
accepted being a part of the group. Plus, Joey was fun to be with, which in Chris' book was a big plus.

      And then there was Lance. Lance had been the last member to join, and the only one who had gone through the stupid notions of an audition. It had been weird, meeting the boy that Justin's vocal trainer swore was a great bass, because Lance didn't look like a bass. He had a youthful almost girlish look that coupled with his shy and almost withdrawn personality, made him look even younger than his 17 years. But his voice… his voice was deep and low and… and not right for a 17-year old girlish looking boy. More so, Lance was too mature for his age. Which made Chris be thankful too, because at least someone remembered the schedule.

      They were a great group, and they sounded great together. Chris was really thankful for Lou's backing, because he was sure that the six of them could be big.

      Humming the first cords of 'I drive myself crazy', the only solo he had in the record, he turned again to see the street.

      Everything was going to be fine.

* * *

      A year. I've been in this nightmare for a little more than a year.

      The contact was easy enough to make, although I know someone is going to make questions sooner or later. The whole story of how *N Sync meet has enough holes to drive a truck through it, even when most of it is true. Then it came the rehearsals. The construction of the image of the group, during which Kirkpatrick complained long and loud about practically
everything since he wanted his group to be authentic. His group,
what a laugh. He should have realized that in the minute he
signed with Pearlman, this stopped being his and became one
more of the fat pig's properties.

      To make things worse, I'm in Germany now, and Pearlman is not. He's in Florida, probably making yet another band of trained monkeys, while I'm stuck with the others and our manager, Jhonny Wright. I checked him, and so far, he's clean. I doubt he's aware of Pearlman's dirty secrets, so it's a dead end.

      I tried to contact my boss last night, and they told me to lay low. Apparently, the Backstreet Boys are leaving Pearlman, and that might get us somewhere with the fraud charges. If that happens, then I just have to throw a diva fit, make myself get kicked out of the group and that will be it.

      Hearing Kirkpatrick hum the first notes of 'I drive myself crazy', I turn to look at him, and he smiles at me in the most silly way a grown man can smile… As if he was expecting me to sing along…

      My life sucks.

* * *

"I can't believe it!" Chris said, as he hung the phone.

"What's wrong, Chris?" J.C. asked, putting his pen and paper down. Even when he wanted to put words to the melody that had been haunting his head for the past week, he knew that very little could upset his older friend and that when it happened, it was best to pay some attention.

"We're getting trashed in the US!" Chirs' outburst made everyone turn to see him. Their first record hadn't even been released there, they were next to unknown in their homeland. It was impossible that what Chris was saying was true. "My sister…"

"She's just making this bigger than what it really is, Chris." The voice coming from the doorway made everyone jump around. Standing there, next to Jhonny Wright was Louis Pearlman, their manager and 'best friend'. No one noticed that one of the young men flinched upon seeing the head of Transcon, or that he wasn't as fast as the rest in greeting Lou. "The Backstabbing Boys are badmouthing you because they want to get me. But
this, this will only make you guys bigger. It's a question of using this bad publicity in our advantage."

"I can't believe Howie would do this to us." Chris shook his head, looking down. "We're friends and…"

"People change, Chris." Joey said, putting his hand on Chris' shoulder. "You must know that."

"But…"

      Chris's refuse to believe Joey's words was interrupted by Pearlman's dry laugh. "That ungrateful kid is just like the others, Chris, don't let his innocent face fool you. But it's all right… You just do your 200% out in the stage, and I'll take care of those guys…"

      Chris continued protesting, but only Joey seemed to pay some attention to him. The rest were busy trying to decide what they should do next to make their concerts unforgettable.

* * *

      I can't fucking believe my fucking bad luck!

      The Backstreet Boys aren't going to sue Transcon, and Transcon has actually a chance to win against Jive… *N Stink is still 'big' on charts on Europe, so I'm not getting back to the States any time soon, and I still have to smile and pose for stupid teeny magazines and my fucking face is in every fucking newsstand in this fucking continent so my next work won't be undercover. I just know that when this is over, I'll be condemned to a lifetime in desk duty.

      Kirkpatrick is taking this pretty hard. Apparently, he was a good friend of Dorough, so he doesn't know which side to choose. I know he isn't sleeping well, hard not to see when we all share the same fucking room. If this keeps up, it's going to show on his performance, and we don't need that attention. I don't need that attention.

      I called to my boss, and got the worst yelling of my entire career. I was risking my cover, they said. But they agreed to put a watch on BSB. I don't trust the fat whale, and I fear for those kids'
safety.

      Here? Here I only have to worry about our sanity.

      I already described how Kirkpatrick is handling it. The others… the others also feel betrayed. Hell, even I feel betrayed, only that it's for other reasons completely.

      Wait, no.

      There's one who apparently doesn't care one way or the other.

      Chasez seems completely oblivious to all this. He keeps writing pages and pages of gibberish, passing it as music. I know Pearlman promised to look at his stuff to see if he could write a hit. Like that's ever going to happen. But he keeps hanging to that hope, and, well, I got to admit, it's kinda cute to see that he isn't affected by this fucked up shit.

      And I'm starting to talk like them.

      Someone shoot me please.