God I hated flying, the time change, all the crap involved with boarding. Flying was not what it used to be. But here I was again, about to head out to catch a flight home. The week in Los Angeles had actually been refreshing. Anyone will tell you that statement clashes with just about any native Angelino's opinion of their city. Los Angeles, refreshing? Hardly. However, the past week had been spent blowing my aunt's credit cards sky high. You had to love her, if you didn't she'd buy you stuff till you did. Luckily, what most people didn't know, is if you loved Sylvia, really loved her, she spent even more money on you and didn't care.

Do I love Aunt Sylvia? She's like a second mother to me, need I say more? In fact she's actually my Great Aunt, but the 'great' seems more like an age bracket to her, so we just call her Aunt Sylvia, or Aunt Silly. Her husband passed away about fifteen years ago, and in the past year she had come to realize that he had invested large amounts of money in very well laid stocks and bonds. Instead of continuing his trades she cashed it all in and found herself sitting pretty. How pretty? Well, let's put it this way. If money had a face, hers would have been number one in People Magazine's 'Most Beautiful People.' When Silly passes away and then I do, my great grandchildren will be sitting pretty too. Need I say more?

So I was packing up twice as much shit as I had brought. Don't get me wrong, everything I had now I adored. There is nothing like a brand new wardrobe, plus every personal electronic gadget you can think of and more. If I had anymore accessories I'd look gayer than Gay Gayerson at Disney World during Gay Days, and that's an understatement.

"Tay baby," her voice called out.

"Yeah, in here."

"Do you really have to leave this morning, there is so much to do still!"

"Well I don't really have to leave today, but if I stay here any longer, you'll be buying me more luggage," I laughed.

"Oh, psh if that's the worst that will happen," she laughed as she pulled me out into the hallway.

"How about you and I go down to Cartier, there is a bracelet I want to look at," she began.

"Silly, sweetie, do you need anymore," I laughed.

"Tay baby, seriously, I'm not going to buy it, I just like to try it on and pretend I will," she winked.

"You just like giving all those clerks there hot flashes," I laughed.

"Then we can swing by The Ivy and have lunch," she continued as we walked down the marble floored hallway to the staircase.

Aunt Silly had the craziest design tastes. For a Beverly Hills home, she made it look more like Southern Florida. Which by the way was where we all came from. You'd think we were half Cuban or something, when in fact we were almost all full blooded Scandinavians. You couldn't tell by Aunt Sylvia, dyed black hair, skin like mahogany, enough make-up to keep the industry in business, and her clothing, well you had to love it, but at the same time you wondered where she got it. It all clashed so horribly that it actually matched.

After only a minor half hour of her begging I decided to forego the flight home and stay a few more days. I had no idea what lay ahead of me as we left the drive way and headed down to Rodeo Drive. It was a late Friday morning and this was going to be the best weekend of my life. . . and the worst.

We had been listening to the radio when we heard that Hanson was performing that night at The Hollywood Roxy. I chuckled to myself. Hanson after all this time seemed to have faded a lot in the recent days. I hadn't heard much about them, but I always had a thing for Taylor. Being four years older than him had sort of, I guess you could say 'inspired' me to keep it to myself. But that was no longer an issue and I caught myself grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"You still like him don't you," Sylvia grinned after the concert commercial finished.

I snapped my head over and stared at her in near shock.

"Oh Taylor, seriously. Don't forget, I babysat you many summers. I remember vividly your Hanson shirts and all the clippings you kept in that old trapper keeper of yours," she smiled.

I didn't think it was possible, but the mirror confirmed it. I must have turned fifty six shades of red. Here, all this time I was pretty sure no one had really figured it out. I mean yeah, my mother and close family, and a few friends know that I am bisexual, but Taylor Hanson? I was positive no one had caught on about that.

"Does mom know too," I asked almost in a whisper.

"She had her ideas, she asked me and I told her just to let you live and be you," she smiled.

"Was she upset?"

"No no, my sister brought your mother up to be very open minded and laid back," she explained.

"I just think it was the timing and all, your father leaving her and everything."

"Yeah," I sighed as those memories flooded my mind again.

"Anyway, you want to go to the concert, see if that spark for Mr. Hanson is still there?"

I sat there for a moment and thought about it. After all this time, actually seeing him live. The thought honestly frightened me.

"I can get you backstage passes," she whispered as I nearly broke my neck to look at her in terror.

She burst in a fit of giggles at the stop light.

"And exactly how do you plan to pull that one off," I asked in complete shock.

"I know the owner's mother," she grinned.

"It's not that easy," I laughed.

"Oh," she looked at me with an expression I began to regret as soon as I saw it.

Before I could say anything she picked up her cell phone and punched a few numbers.

"Mike, hey it's Sylvia, yeah sweetie long time I know, is your mother there," she asked.

"Alright, thanks," she looked over at me.

"Not that easy, psh," she muttered.

"Effie," she squealed with a laugh.

"Yes, I know, lunch tomorrow, your choice, I'm buying!"

"So tell me, what's going on tonight at the club," she asked with a grin.

I watched her nod and smile a few times.

"Can you pull some strings for me," she asked and then smiled two seconds later.

"Well my nephew and I just heard about the concert and, yes my nephew," she looked over and smiled.

"Well could you swing a backstage pass," she asked bluntly.

"That's great, but not one of those no-nothing meet and greet passes, I want him to have a backstage, all access pass," I stared at her in horror. She was pushy!

"Yes, of course I'll be there, but just one pass, he doesn't need his Aunt Silly following him around," she laughed.

"Yes we can have drinks and enjoy the show," she smiled.

"See you at four," she hung up the phone.

My fingers were tingling, my toes felt numb. I realized I was hyperventilating.

"It's that easy," she smiled.

"When you're Sylvia Chambers, I guess everything is easy," I muttered.

"Oh relax! What could be so bad? You're finally going to meet your first boy crush," she smiled.

I winced, when she put it that way it made it seem, so. . . Well I couldn't find a word for how horrible it sounded. Not to sound lame but I believed I had some serious feelings for him at one time. Feelings I wouldn't have exactly labeled as a 'boy crush.'

I sat back and stared up into the sky as we headed to Cartier. Deep down I guess I really was thrilled, even if all I got to do was get a few seconds to talk to him. Now if I was really lucky I would be able to get a photo of me with Taylor. That I would totally frame. . . Yeah, it was official I was slowly becoming a teenie. Just like the Borg, resistance is futile I suppose.

Typically I found my Aunts antics quite amusing. However the time at Cartier at first seemed to drag on forever. Now I love a good set of diamonds, but I don't get my rocks off staring at them all day long. I sat down at one of the chairs and picked up a magazine. It was then that time flew. I found an article on Hanson and their career. Looking at Taylor again, for the first time in such a long time was, well it was strange. He looked the same, at least to me, give or take a few inches off his hair, a more mature facial structure. Sure he didn't look like a little girl anymore, not that he ever did to me in the first place, but he was no doubt extremely feminine. I grinned, that tingle still rippled down in my stomach. There was still something there after all this time. I leafed back and forth, ignoring most of the article, just focusing on his photos. He had gone from cute, to gorgeous. Even with his femininity so… blatant, there was an undeniable undercurrent of 'stud' and 'sex' dripping off of his presence in the photos. Something had changed about him, sure he grew up in many ways, but he seemed, at least to me more aware of how attractive he was. It was obvious that he liked it.

The end of the article had a statistic list of all three. All three were still single and unmarried. I almost giggled out loud when I read that. I blushed, privately scolding myself. I looked at him again and wondered how someone as gorgeous as he could go for so long without getting snagged. A small voice whispered in the back of my head but I ignored it, no need to get my hopes up. One thing I couldn't stand was the kind of guy who swore every guy they found attractive was gay. You had to give me a reason to think that, assumption is the first step towards humiliation.

As we left the store I noticed Sylvia was hiding something under her coat.

"Rather ballsy to shop lift at Cartier," I dead panned.

"I didn't steal it," she laughed harder.

"I can't believe you bought the bracelet," I groaned.

"Neither can I, but when I saw it on, I had to have it, so what are you hiding over there?"

I held up the magazine and then flipped it open when we got in the car.

"Oh he is such a dish," she grinned when she saw Taylor.

"Yeah no kidding, he's really," I paused.

"Matured, but he still has that sexy fruity look to him," she finished.

I laughed out loud, truly laughed. I had never heard anyone, much less a woman describe him as having a sexy fruity look.

"What," she asked in honest confusion.

"You, what's up with that fruity part," I smirked.

"He's gay, can't you tell," she laughed as she snatched the magazine out of my hands.

"Really, and what tells you that?"

The next few minutes were spent with Sylvia going down a long list of things that apparently, to her at least screamed that Taylor Hanson was an All Star Butt Pirate. I laughed continuously but every time she pointed something out, I saw it. I registered it and agreed, to myself at least.

"Okay, enough. You're going to get my hopes up."

"You'll see, tonight when you meet him, he'll be all over you like a cheap suit," she grinned.

"Okay, on that note I need some ice water," I whimpered as she started laughing hysterically.

"Listen, Taylor you're gorgeous, you're the best looking son in the entire family, plus you're really sweet and extremely intelligent, if he doesn't fall for you," she paused.

"Well then he's straight and stupid," she finished quietly.

"Well I appreciate your vote of confidence," I smiled.

The rest of the ride to the restaurant was quiet. I wasn't sure exactly what Sylvia was thinking about, but all I could think about was Taylor and all her examples of his, 'gayness.' It came as a bit of a shock to me after all this time. I always found him attractive, and sure those kind of thoughts surface during private moments. But after that they sort of, drift back to that dark steamy part of your consciousness that doesn't typically get used in every day life. But now, after her rant about him, it all seemed to pour out and pool around me. Old statements he had made, the fact that he was always very gender neutral in reference to the kind of person he looked for. It went on and on, so much seemed to make sense in so many ways now. I felt a headache coming on and tried to shake it off. The last thing I needed was a migraine.

Lunch drifted by quickly. I wasn't sure if I was completely coherent through most of it. My brain was phasing in and out of what I should say, to how I should act. Plus it was telling me not to go in expecting something amazing. Something many of my friends were guilty of, was expecting something great to happen to them. Only to end up with nothing, except crushed feelings and a bad mood. I always figured to go in expecting nothing, that way if you get nothing you leave without disappointment. That was the angle I was attempting to go with to the concert. Sylvia wasn't making it easy though. She loves to gossip and loves to ask questions and loves to suggest how something will happen, how it will play out and what you're supposed to do. I love her to death but it was one of those moments where I was doing everything I could to keep from running screaming out the front door of the restaurant. Yeah, that wouldn't be good, for her or the restaurant.

We finished up and were pulling out when I got brave and asked her a question.

"Do you think I could drive the Beamer to the concert, alone," I almost winced.

"Of course, after all you need to be able to leave when you want to, and drive to his place," she winked.

"Or yours," I smirked.

"Sure, not a problem, use the pool house, I'll give you the key when we get home, in fact I'll get it all set up with candles and," she started.

"Silly! Seriously you've got to be kidding," I howled.

"What makes you think that? You know if you don't start having more faith in yourself," she started all over again.

I had forgotten that at some moments it was useless to try and tell her the opposite of what she believed. Even if it was more realistic, so I decided to just sit there, again quietly and let her ramble on. After all, I did owe this chance to her, so I didn't mind it too much. One thing it did manage to do was get my stomach churning so much, that by the time we reached her house I was completely stirred up and feeling extremely queasy. Hell, I was damn near ready to blow chunks all over her dash board.

Luckily a quiet shower and time alone proved to be the cure for my stomach. After relaxing and getting completely ready I felt great. Luckily I had my new wardrobe and looked pretty spiffy in one of my new Armani ensembles. God only knows I could never have afforded them on my own so since this was a seemingly once in a life time situation I decided to mix it up. Not too dressy, not too relaxed, it actually pulled together damn good. I stopped at the mirror one last time and ran my fingers through my hair. Layered, brown, shoulder length and all natural, well the product and flat iron helped but no one had to know all my secrets, right? All I know is for once, in years I actually felt like I looked good, damn good even. I smiled to myself as I came down the stairs. Aunt Sylvia was standing at the door, staring with her mouth hanging open.

"How come I don't get this when you go out with me," she asked in mock accusation.

I laughed. "Because I don't wanna get in your pants," I blurted before I even realized it slipped out.

"Well, that's a relief," she snickered.

"Here, the key to the pool house, and the back door," she winked and nudged me.

"Oh you're horrible," I laughed.

I couldn't stop laughing at this point. I think she was aware that I was jittery because she made no comments about Taylor, meeting him or how he would react around me. I was grateful to say the least. She got into her Jaguar and I jumped in the BMW convertible. The drive wouldn't be short, but it wouldn't take too long and I wanted to feel as relaxed as possible so I put down the roof.

"That's gonna blow your hair all to hell," she called out before she pulled out of her gated drive way.

"Yeah, but the product I use will make it look piecey," I called out.

"You girl," she laughed as she turned out onto the road.

She made me smile, smiling felt good, and I had a feeling I would be doing a lot of it tonight.

I really started feeling like a girl when we pulled into the parking lot and I checked my hair only to find that all the wind had ultimately styled it in the manner I had attempted for so many months and not succeeded. I winced as I realized I was ecstatic about this.

"My God I'm turning into a chick with each passing second," I groaned as I got out and closed the door.

"We expecting any rain," I asked as Sylvia pulled in.

"Nope, dry as a boner," she exclaimed causing my mouth to fall open.

She winked and parked her car beside the BMW.

"Come on you have to meet Effie, I told her all about you today, while you were getting ready," Sylvia exclaimed as she started leading me by the hand.

"Silly, seriously," I barked as I pulled my hand back.

"I can walk on my own, I'm not a puppy," I smiled.

We got inside and a moment or two later a woman who appeared about the same age as Sylvia came out of an office.

"So this is your nephew," she smiled as we shook hands.

"Taylor Quest, nice to meet you," I exclaimed.

"My he's handsome, so are you looking forward to the concert," she asked.

"Yeah, actually I've never seen them perform so," I smiled.

"Well they're already here around in the green room, here is your pass," she exclaimed handing me a sticker.

As she handed it to me my stomach did a turn inside and I felt all tingly. I blushed because it obviously showed. When I looked up at the two of them they were both grinning like two cats who had just had lunch at an aviary.

"What," I asked sheepishly.

"It's nice to see a guy get that flushed over Hanson, all we see usually are girls," Effie replied.

"Really, I'd have thought their fan base would have expanded by now?"

"Well, in a way it has, many more guys show up, but it's still mostly the same girls who've been following them since they first came out."

"Well Taylor here is one in a million," Sylvia smiled as she patted me on the back.

"He sure is a looker, now hurry up and get back there before you miss out on something cool," she smiled.

I hurried off towards the hallway she had pointed out and put the sticker in my pocket. It just seemed wrong to ruin the outfit by sticking a big orange sticker on it. I got about fifteen steps and made a turn where a large man stood next to a door marked 'private.'

"Pass," he asked.

I lifted mine out of my pocket and held it up. He glanced at it and stepped to the side.

"Thanks," I smiled, he nodded.

I opened the door and walked into a pretty swank green room. A few scattered people moved around and carried boxes of all kinds of stuff. I noticed that the merchandise was stacked nearby and probably was about to make it's way out to the main lobby. They had quite an assortment of wares for sale.

"Excuse me," a chubby shorter blond with spiky hair exclaimed behind me.

"Yes," I asked turning around.

"You're going to have to leave this is off limits," he started as he reached for my arm.

"I have," I exclaimed as I lifted the pass out of my pocket.

"Where did you get that," he nearly snapped at me as he reached for it.

"I am a friend of the owner," I replied defensively as I pulled my hand back, preventing him from taking the pass from me.

"It's cool Jammer, he's got a pass, let him be," a voice exclaimed behind me.

I turned and came face to face with Taylor Hanson. My insides froze.

"Well he needs to wear it," the man snapped.

"Armani right," Taylor asked as he traced his finger over the lapel of my jacket.

"Yeah," I replied almost in a whisper.

"I wouldn't put a sticker on any Armani jacket of mine, so I don't blame him, chill out," Taylor replied rolling his eyes.

"Ignore him, he's always in a pissy mood," he smiled as he put his hand on my back and lead me farther into the room.

My head was spinning. I seriously was not prepared for this, not this sudden. He was even more gorgeous in real life. I mean seriously gorgeous, photos just don't do him justice. He is one of those rare people who you see in a picture and think 'oh cute' but then you see him in real life and your stomach about falls out of your ass. He smiled at me and my head swam.

"So what's your name?"

"Uh, Taylor," I replied as his brows furrowed.

"Okay," he laughed slightly.

"I mean, my name is Taylor, but," I paused; this was going to be confusing.

"Hey, who's this," Zac asked as he walked up.

"This is. . . Taylor," Taylor laughed.

"Ah, two Taylor's, this is going to be interesting," Zac smirked.

"Actually, my first name is Will, so why don't you just call me that," I smiled as I extended my hand to Taylor.

Taylor grinned and shook my hand. His touch was electrifying and it made me shiver, he grinned wider and winked at me. That wink was like a flash bulb. I must have blinked once or twice because he tipped his head back and laughed a nearly silent chuckle.

"Right," Zac muttered as he rolled his eyes and walked off.

"You want something to drink," Taylor asked as he led me by the same hand he had been shaking over to a sofa.

"Sure, um Apple Martini," I asked.

"No problem," he grinned as he told a random individual near the green room bar.

"It'll be up in a second," he smiled as he pulled me over by the hand to the sofa and sat down.

Okay, it was obvious. Something was already going on between us and I wasn't sure exactly how to follow. I'm no idiot, the boy was flirting with me hardcore, and the entire hand holding thing. Well that alone would have set anyone off. I looked at his eyes, dared to look I should say, they're spell binding. I looked at them and it was obvious, he was either tipsy, or stoned. . . maybe a little of both. I smiled to myself, things seemed to make a little more sense. I threw it off though and waited, if he was into me. . . well it would have to get so obvious that I wouldn't be able to deny it. So I just played it cool.

"So, are you from around here," he asked.

"Actually I'm from the Miami area, I'm visiting my aunt," I replied as the man arrived with the Apple Martini.

"That's cool, how do you know the owner?"

"Actually I don't, well I mean I just met her, but my aunt knows her."

"It's all about the connections," he smiled, eyes sparkling as he sent a tiny shockwave at me with his eyes.

Was he doing that on purpose? I avoided eye contact and concentrated on my martini.

The silence grew as I sipped and tried to ignore him long enough to calm down.

"Apple Martini huh," he asked as he sat forward.

"Mmm-hmmm," I smiled swallowing, hard.

"Well I'm guessing it tastes like apples, do you mind if I try some," he asked sliding closer to me.

I swallowed even harder and nodded handing him the glass. I prayed to God that he didn't notice my hand trembling slightly.

He took it and fluidly turned it to the side of the glass my mouth had touched was at his mouth and took a sip. I swore my eyes popped out and landed in the glass. He smirked as he sipped.

"Not bad," he smiled licking his lips.

"Dear God," I thought to myself as I swore sweat was streaming down my face.

"You know you're very animated," he smiled.

"Say what," I was totally confused now.

"Your face is very animated," he grinned.

I stared quietly.

"If I do this," and he parted his lips, sighed as he raised my glass and slowly drug his tongue, pressed flat across edge and then curled it up against his upper lip and smiled with a wink.

My eyes grew wide and I bit my bottom lip.

"You do something like that," he started laughing.

"You're just teasing me," I groaned falling back.

"Hey it's all in good fun, right," he winked and squeezed my left knee.

"Keep teasing me and you'll be the one getting animated," I dared to flirt back.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with," he started as Zac walked up.

"We've gotta hurry, meet and greet starts, like now," Zac exclaimed as he glanced down at Taylor's hand still on my knee.

"Yeah, and knock that shit off, otherwise Jammer is going to lay a fucking egg," he exclaimed as he took off back towards the front.

"See you after the meet and greet," he winked and patted me on the back before he got up and walked away with my martini.

I sat there, my head spinning. None of this was even happening, it couldn't be. I didn't know if I had the courage to hang around. Part of me wanted to run, fast and far away. But a larger part screamed at me to stay, and to flirt back. All I knew was, if he did it again, I wasn't going to sit there and make faces at him, I was going to give him a run for his money. If it was all in good fun, then he was in for a lot of fun.