I have a confession to make. As you may have noticed, I missed my weekly update on Saturday. I’m sorry about that. I’ve been having a crisis of confidence with my new novel, A Heart That Isn’t Mine. In spite of forcing myself to write every day, I’ve been struggling with this for awhile now, which is why I was so hesitant to post this story in the first place. I don’t know if I’m losing my touch or just growing a conscience, but I am having a tough time with all the Nick torture in this one. “But Julie, you’ve been torturing Backstreet Boys in your stories for nineteen years,” you might be saying – and you would be right. I have, and it’s never really bothered me before, but lately, all this drama has been giving me quite a guilt trip. So I’ve decided to make some changes and turn over a new leaf when it comes to writing.
I have sought help to overcome my unhealthy addiction to medical drama and angst by joining an organization called Angstaholics Anonymous. It’s a twelve step program that I’ve been following. I’m on Step 8, which is to make a list of people I’ve harmed and be willing to make amends to those people. I found it therapeutic to compile the following list of ways in which I have harmed the Boys in my fanfiction. My hope is that acknowledging and apologizing for these grievous acts will help me on my road to recovery.
(SPOILER ALERT: The list below gives away plot details from many of my stories. Read at your own risk.)
First, to my beloved Brian:
You have always been my favorite Backstreet Boy, so naturally, you were also my first victim. You starred in my first few fanfics, and bad things happened to you in every one of them. I apologize to you for:
- Making you pass out on stage.
- Putting you through a heart transplant.
- Giving you pneumonia.
- Making you reject your transplanted heart.
- Giving you Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.
- Crashing your tour bus.
- Impaling you on fence post.
- Crashing your car.
- Getting you addicted to painkillers.
- Making you overdose on said painkillers.
- Letting you get shot and killed by a crazy fan.
- Crashing your plane.
- Sinking your boat.
- Giving you a fatal heart attack.
- Almost drowning you when you passed out in the pool.
- Letting you get kidnapped by NSYNC.
- Letting you get raped by Lance Bass.
- Crashing your car… again.
- Crashing your car yet again.
- Crashing your car for the fourth time.
- Letting you get kidnapped again.
- Letting you get kidnapped by your long-lost evil twin.
- Stabbing you to death.
- Crashing your car for the fifth time.
- Shooting you… again.
- Holding you hostage in a grocery store.
- Crashing your tour bus again.
- Giving you another heart attack.
- Stopping your heart.
- Drowning you for real this time.
- Making you commit suicide by drinking bleach.
- Infecting you with the FANthrax virus.
- Putting you through another heart transplant.
- Making you stab yourself in the heart.
- Letting you get attacked by your zombie family.
- Slitting your throat.
- Letting killer monkeys from outer space disembowel you.
To Kevin:
Luckily for you, I haven’t written many stories about you, which means your list is shorter than the others. Still, I must apologize for the awful things I have done to you:
- Crashing your tour bus.
- Crashing your plane.
- Sinking your boat.
- Almost drowning you.
- Almost drowning you again.
- Letting you get shot by Justin Timberlake.
- Giving you a concussion.
- Giving you cancer.
- Letting you freeze to death.
- Crashing your tour bus again.
- Crashing your plane again.
- Shooting you in the head.
- Sawing off your legs.
- Letting killer monkeys from outer space attack you.
- Crashing your car.
To Howie:
You have grown on me over the years, which also means you’ve gone from a minor character to a leading man in my stories. If not for Sick as My Secrets, your list would be the shortest, but thanks to that one, you now know the full extent of my capabilities when it comes to torturing Backstreet Boys. Sucks to be you. I really am sorry about what I did to you and your family in that story. Please forgive me the following:
- Crashing your tour bus.
- Crashing your plane.
- Sinking your boat.
- Giving you arthritis.
- Letting you get bitten by Vampire AJ.
- Stabbing you.
- Crashing your tour bus again.
- Giving you hemophilia.
- Letting you almost bleed to death.
- Sawing off your head and limbs.
- Letting killer monkeys from outer space eat your face.
- Infecting you with HIV.
- Making you infect your family with HIV.
- Making you try to kill yourself.
- Destroying your liver.
- Putting you through a liver transplant.
- Infecting you with Fifths disease.
- Making you reject your transplanted liver.
- Killing you with cryptococcosis.
To AJ:
AJ, you’ve always been more of a secondary character in my stories. You’re great for comic relief, which means sometimes you get off easier than the others. That said, I have still done some pretty horrific things to you, and for that, I’m sorry. I apologize for:
- Crashing your tour bus.
- Paralyzing you.
- Crashing your plane.
- Burying you in an avalanche.
- Sinking your boat.
- Letting you get attacked by a shark.
- Infecting you with HIV.
- Giving you Alzheimer’s.
- Letting you get bitten by a vampire.
- Making you commit suicide by driving a stake through your own heart.
- Letting you get stabbed by Brian’s long-lost evil twin brother.
- Murdering you.
- Letting you die before you reconciled with your lost love.
- Crashing your tour bus again.
- Destroying your liver.
- Putting you through a liver transplant.
- Making you slit your wrists.
- Letting you get bitten by a zombie.
- Breaking your leg.
- Sawing off your arms.
- Letting killer monkeys from outer space rip your throat out.
To Nick:
You were my least favorite Backstreet Boy in the beginning, but over the years, you’ve really grown on me, as has my love of hurting you in my stories. You’ve risen through the ranks to secure your spot as my second favorite Boy – after Brian, of course – but you may actually be my favorite to torture. You’re the only one who has an entire series of one-shots dedicated to killing you in different ways, so your list is the longest by far. Poor Nick. I’m sorry for:
- Letting you die donating bone marrow to Brian.
- Crashing your tour bus.
- Giving you a traumatic brain injury.
- Crashing your plane.
- Giving you pneumonia.
- Sinking your boat.
- Letting you get beat up by a ghost.
- Giving you another traumatic brain injury when you fell from that balcony.
- Giving you yet another traumatic brain injury when you fell from your harness.
- Paralyzing you.
- Letting Justin Timberlake shoot you in the heart.
- Destroying your liver.
- Putting you through two liver transplants.
- Crashing your car again
- Letting you die of liver failure even after you’d survived two transplants.
- Making you almost shoot yourself.
- Making you suffer three heart attacks and double bypass surgery.
- Crashing your car again and giving you your fourth traumatic brain injury.
- Making you overdose on pills.
- Holding you hostage.
- Crashing your bus again and giving you your fifth traumatic brain injury.
- Giving you bone cancer.
- Amputating your leg.
- Cutting out a lobe of your lung.
- Giving you an infected stump ulcer.
- Giving you BOOP just because I thought the name was funny.
- Almost killing you in yet another car crash.
- Giving you your sixth traumatic brain injury in a bar fight.
- Crashing your plane… again.
- Letting you get kidnapped, violently beaten, and left for dead.
- Giving you cancer again.
- Putting you through a stem cell transplant.
- Letting the cancer relapse and kill you anyway.
- Decapitating you.
- Giving you testicular cancer.
- Letting killer monkeys from outer space attack you.
- Reanimating your rotting, cancer-ravaged corpse to bring you back as a zombie.
- Letting you get stung by a platypus.
- Giving you a fatal allergic reaction to local anesthesia.
- Infecting you with Ebola.
- Catching your recording booth on fire and letting you burn to death.
- Giving you another spinal cord injury from falling off a ski lift.
- Giving you hypothermia.
- Letting you get eaten by a mountain lion.
- Making you give yourself a concussion by running into a solid brick wall.
- Letting you get hit by a train.
- Letting you get bitten by a squirrel.
- Infecting you with bubonic plague.
- Letting you get literally ripped apart by crazy fans.
- Crushing your throat with a barbell.
- Strangling you with a Wylee scarf.
- Letting you get attacked by a rabid Saint Bernard.
- Amputating your arm.
- Letting you get bitten by a zombie.
- Infecting you with HIV.
- “Lucilling” you.
- Stopping your heart.
Finally, to my readers:
I apologize for making you cry over the years… and for making the following announcement. As much as I appreciate your positive feedback on my stories, I have made the difficult decision to stop writing drama, angst, and horror and start writing happy, fluffy romance instead. In order to make amends, I’m putting my money where my mouth is by becoming a spokesperson for the ASPCBSB, the American Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Backstreet Boys. Please watch my brand new commercial below to learn more and consider joining this wonderful organization today!
Thank you for your support and forgiveness!
Sincerely,
Julie Lewis
April Fools much?
🙂