Loud music, strobe lightning, bodies covered in sweat from quick dancing. This place was different to anything he had known until recently. Sure he had been to clubs before, but never alone and never long enough to feel this kind of energy. When he came here it had been out of desperation. Brian had felt lost, unable to feel anything but emptiness and he had been looking for something to fill the void. He had found it here in Santa Monica, when he stepped through the gates leading to Unity-Club for the first time. Those doors had opened up a whole new world for him. A world that gave him the chance to forget his worries. Of course he had to make sure, that nobody recognized him, so he could have his peace, but that proved to be much easier, than he had first expected. He pretty much had stayed unrecognized, by wearing a hoodie and staying away from most people. This also gave him the opportunity to stay silent. If he didn't approach anybody, he would not need to talk and if he didn't talk he would not need to use his broken voice. The techno beats that were echoing through this chambers were too loud to invite a conversation at any proper volume anyhow. So instead of talking, he allowed the music to carry him through the halls and through crowds of people. None of them really saw him or knew what was going on with him. Nobody saw, that he was on the path down to his own destruction.
That was the problem really. While originally his intention in going out had been to fight depression, he had lost his path somewhat along the way. At first it had started with a glass of vodka every night before he went out. He had needed that little bit of extra courage, the clear liquid was so good at giving him. Brian had never been the guy to go out and party, that had always been Nick or AJs part, so he needed some extra push. Before he had really thought about it, that glass every night had become a habit. Soon one glass wasn't even enough anymore and he started to empty half a bottle of that stuff, before he even came to the Club. In there it was not like he stopped drinking either. His nights became increasingly blurry memories in these months. He remembered dancing, he remembered drinking and he remembered throwing up once or twice, but there were no details to the pictures he saw. While with every morning headache he was aware, that this was no good behavior, he still threw himself back into this world whenever the sun set in the west. What did it matter anyway? Nobody was waiting for him, nobody was needing him sober. He had given up taking care of his life it was not worth to be preserved. He could as well lead it down a path, that lead to quick destruction. Perhaps that was the goal, perhaps he wanted to destroy himself, punish himself for the things he had said and done. He was already on a good path towards that goal.
And then one night he had met the owner of the club. The night had been no different, than the nights before. It had been close to midnight and he couldn't stand straight anymore, so he was swaying to the rhythm of the music, somewhere close to the back entrance of the club. That is where he found him. The clubs owner had seen Brian here before and he had recognized who he was many days earlier. "A Backstreet Boy in my club?", he still remembered the words directed at him that night, because they had annoyed him. The only reason he had hold back on shouting at that guy, had been the fact, that he seemed to be the owner of this place. It was no good to start a fight with the parties host. Besides, the man had only smiled, seemingly friendly as he had gestured him to follow and after a moment of hesitation Brian did, walking with him through a corridor and up some stairs.
The place he had lead him to was designed as a private area. There was no strobe lighting here and the bass of the music downstairs was subdued by thick walls. In the middle of the room he had noticed a bar with a huge assortment of all kinds of drinks and around the walls of the room there were several private chambers, closed off with metal doors. It was one of those chambers the man lead him into. The room was small but big enough to house a few couches on the outer walls and a movable dancing pole in its center. The man had gestured for Brian to sit down and after he did, he raised his voice again: "My name is Peter, Unity is mine.", he began to speak and put on a smile, "I have seen you come here over those last weeks.", he gave a soft chuckle, "Brian Littrell of the Backstreet Boys dancing in my club. Mh, I guess that's an honor!" Those words, they had been spoken gently and yet they made Brian huff. He didn't like to be reminded who he was, because he didn't want to be that person anymore. Still he hold back on saying anything. "So, I guess I have a gift for you.", Peter spoke and that's when he pulled it out: a package filled with white powder.
That was coke, Brian didn't even need to ask to know it. He had seen it before, that drug was quite the welcome guest at some celebrity parties. Of course he had never taken it himself, so getting it offered like that felt weird. And yet taking this was only the logical conclusion to the path he had already started to walk. He already was feeling dizzy from all the alcohol he drank, so what difference did it make if he took something else? Certainly, a part of him knew it was a shitty idea to accept it, but the part of him that was out to destroy himself had become so loud, that he simply couldn't resist it.
That was the night when he first did coke and as he did Peter left him alone with the on-setting high. Cocaine was a drug that pushed your body to work at full capacity. It stimulated your nerves and made you wide awake. As Brian took it for the first time snorting it up his nose it didn't take long til he felt its power. A force that brought him back to the dancing floor downstairs. For hours and hours he danced feeling as alive as he never had before. Forgotten were all his worries about Nick, forgotten were the dark thoughts and the voices, that tortured him when he was alone. All that was left on his mind was the wish to celebrate life and so he did. another 3 months later:
Summer had come and gone, leaving the once green world in autumns hands. November had finally arrived and brought Nick the chance to return home and get away from touring for a while. The 'In A World Like This' tour had started as planned in May and they had already finished two Asian and one North American leg. Things had been weird. Without Brian on stage everything felt so different. The problem was not only dividing up his parts, but also the fact, that everybody missed him. Every evening when they had gone on stage, they inevitably thought of him. Their songs just didn't sound the same without him and their choreography lacked the joyful spirit Brian brought to it. Sometimes it felt to Nick like he was dancing and singing with B-Roks ghost, so very palpable was his presence all around them. And thus it was not surprising, that every time before they went on stage, when they had said their prayer, they had included him in it as well. But even though they were holding onto that presence of their former band-mate, it still wasn't the same. The fans felt it too, some even got pretty vocal with it on social media. Most of them weren't really happy with Brian being gone and the few that were had hated him to begin with. Quite annoying was the speculation going on. Management had released a statement, that said Brian had left because of personal reasons. They didn't want to go into the details, because that was a story for Brian to tell, which he didn't do. That however lead to rumors being thrown around. Some fans were writing their assumptions down. There were several reports on fan-sites talking about Bri having been thrown out of the band for his bad vocal performance. Ever since Nick had read that, he had avoided going online altogether. It was quite tiring to read these kind of things, when it was exactly the opposite of what they had wanted. Especially since some fans became so outraged about it, that they blamed him or Kevin or whoever else they felt like blaming on that particular day. With that reaction online neither of them had been surprised, that their concerts weren't nearly as well-visited as they had expected. Some of the fans that came even booed when Brian's parts came up and one of the others sang them. Of course the majority of their fans was very supportive, but the vocal minority lead to the tour being quite a bit more exhausting than it could have been with Brian on board.
So when they finally had a little time off in November Nick wanted to use it for two things. The first was spending time on his hobbies and the second was trying to reach out to Bri. While the first was an easy task, the second proved to be a lot more difficult. Ever since Brian had left the band Nick had been unable to reach him. In the first few weeks he had been so angry, he had not even wanted to try calling him and when he finally did call in Georgia the line was dead. Of course the next thing he had done was trying to reach his mobile number, with a similar result. Brian did read his texts, he could see that, but he did not respond. Immediately he felt put back to the time before the 'Never Gone' Album, when B-Rok had ignored him the first time. This time he at least knew why he did it, that did not make it feel any better though. When Brian did not reply to him, Nick had reached out to Kevin in hopes, that he at least had some contact to his cousin, but surprisingly he had not heard a word of him either. It was as if he had cut them out of his life completely and that was a thought that weighed pretty heavily on him. How could Brian just simply forget about them? He wondered what was going on in his head.
Nick would have probably given up on him, had it not been for a stroke of fate, that hit him with the November 7th issue of the LA Gatherer a local tabloid. Usually Nick only skimmed through the pages, but this time the paper caught his attention, when he saw a picture of somebody he only barely recognized. Had it not been for that characteristic jawline of his, he probably would not have looked twice. This was Brian for sure, but Nick did feel a jab in his heart as he saw him. It was not easy to see him after the last words they had exchanged, but even worse was seeing him like this. This was really bad. What he saw on the picture frightened him immensely. The last time Nick had seen Brian he looked sad, but at least he looked healthy, what he saw now was a man that was only the ghost of his former self. He was so frail on that image, skin and bones and very pale. Gently Nick caressed that face on the paper. What had happened to him? Why was he so thin? Where was he? A frown appeared on Nicks face as he found the answer on the picture, where a big Neon sign above Brian's head read 'Unity'. He knew that place, it was a club in Santa Monica. Not that he had ever been there, but he had heard about it. Nothing good sadly. As Nick was trying to find out more he looked at the headline: 'Exclusive: What is wrong with Brian Littrell?'. Now that did not help much, since that was the same question he was wondering himself. Even looking further into the report didn't help much. It said, that Brian had been seen around Los Angeles' party scene recently and that he lost a lot of weight. The rest was only speculation. The Unity sign however was a big hint. If Brian was spending his nights there, he had to go find him. That place was known for all kinds of weird stories. Most of them circled around drugs and prostitution. Nick prayed to god, that Brian had nothing to do with either of those. Man, this felt so far off from everything he had expected. He needed to do something.
---
Peter had Brian exactly where he wanted him to be. Fortuna must have been smiling down on him when he sent this man to his club for the first time. He immediately had seen how lost that washed-up celebrity was, perfectly ready to be manipulated. It was not the first time he had seen men and women like him. People who had lost their way could be used so very easily. But this was the very first time he had found someone so lost, that was a celebrity. It was an opportunity he needed to use for his profit. Unsurprisingly it had been very easy to get him hooked on coke. The way Brian had given himself to alcohol before made it evident what path he was going down. Peter only needed to give him a little push so that he would fall even quicker. It had almost been too easy to make him take it. But he didn't complain, because as soon as he took the drug, Peter knew he had him in his hands.
Not only was he the one to give Brian drugs and the one he had to go to if he wanted more, no he also had cameras around the place, that filmed his antics. That gave him enough leverage over the man and he intended using it. For a while he just watched as the former Backstreet Boy kept coming back for more and more coke. Then as he felt certain enough, that B-Rok was completely dependent on that substance he started with the demands. Peter was a man, that had a hand in all kinds of businesses. Unity was his base of operation and it was where he invited his most wealthy clients, with the most distinguished tastes. That Backstreet Boy he was using might have been rich, but he didn't compare to the men and women he did his real business with. Just like the coke had been a gift to Brian, he would be a gift to them. "If you want more, you need to work for it!", he was still amused when he was reminded of the shocked expression the man had given him, when he first made demands. These were the kind of things that gave him joy. Playing with people like that, it was something he loved. "I want you to dance for some friends of mine. Let them touch you and stuff.", he had been pretty straight to the point. Of course Brian had denied his request at first, rather adamantly so, but that was where he mentioned the videos "If you don't do it I am going to sell you out to the press. What would that mean for your former band? How would that make them look?", he had gotten to known the former singer well enough to know, that the way to get him was through his friends, so he used that card well. It had been a glorious sight to see him hurt and defeated by his words. Yes, he had him on a leash and on that night he presented him.
---
Brian blamed himself. He hated himself for getting addicted to drugs and for giving Peter the chance to control him like that. Now he was lost, depending on the whim of another. If he didn't do what he said, he would destroy the Backstreet Boys. He could not allow that, he had to prevent it. And so he had done what Peter demanded. Nauseating thoughts came to his mind as he remembered the first night he had whored him out. That night Peter had brought him into one of the chambers in the private area. People had waited there for him, a whole group of them four men and two women. Bri didn't know who they were. They were dressed in fine clothes and they wore masks in all kinds of shapes: some in the shape of animal heads, others more classical Venetian. When he had stepped into that room, they had all stared him down with the empty expressions of those masks. The way they were looking at him had made his whole body shudder. Of course he had been drunk out of his mind, but instead of swaying he froze, when the man wearing the lion-mask came closer. Whoever it was, that man was at least twice his size and he seemed pretty buff. Brian was by no means weak, but that man was something else. It had been quite intimidating when he had leaned over him, Bri could still smell the bitter scent of the perfume he had been wearing. Thinking about it made him feel sick. As Peter had left him in that room, the man in the lion-mask had been the first to touch him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, before ripping it open in one forceful motion. His whole body had twitched as his chest was revealed like that to the guests in the room. Before he had been able to do anything in protest, the man had grabbed him by his wrist, pulling him close then twirling him around. "Stop it!", he heard his words echoing in his mind and felt the pain of his arm being twisted in response all over again. Whoever these people were, they did not seem to care for his suffering. Quite the opposite, while he was groaning up in pain it seemed to Brian as if the people observing seemed to be quite amused. "Shh, you're our toy tonight. Be nice.", he could remember the dripping words spoken in a deep voice into his ear. They had a thick accent to it, but he couldn't quite place where it originated. He didn't have the time to think about it either, since the man attempted to push him to the ground. That had been too much. When he realized what this was about, he had started to struggle, he even managed to get himself free. But his hopes of escaping were smashed, when he stumbled towards the door only to find it locked. His observers chuckled and one of the women raised her voice mockingly: "There's no use in running singer boy. As he said, you are our toy.", those words they rang into his ear and traveled through his muscles and bones. She was right, there was no escape. The sudden realization of that fact brought him to his knees and as the man in the lion mask caught up to him, he had an easy time to press him onto the ground, face upwards. "Good Boy...", he had whispered while caressing his cheeks, making his whole body shiver again. The situation had seemed so hopeless and yet Brian had not given up to fight yet. So as the man was laying over him like that he had kicked at him, with all the force he had left. A groan coming from the taller mans throat told him that he had succeeded in causing at least a little bit of damage, but it was not enough to make him move. Instead it had caused one of the other men to come closer. This one was wearing a mask in the shape of a wolfs head and as he was close enough he kicked Brian in the side. The pain that shot through his body was enough to paralyze him for long enough, that the lion man took control again. "You little prick!", and suddenly he pulled a knife from his pocket. A second later said knife was on his throat: "I see you and me are going to have some fun tonight.", the words were spoken sharp and angry and Brian still struggling with the pain of being kicked could do nothing as the man turned him around onto his belly.
Another motion later and he had pulled down Brian's pants. "No, stop! Please, somebody help me!", Bri cried out, but there was nobody here to answer his pleas for help. Anybody who was in this room was enjoying seeing him like this. The man in the lion mask had control over him and soon he dropped his pants as well. He heard the crowd chuckle, as a hard and large cock was closing in on him. Then he entered, not carefully or with preparation, just with sheer force and it hurt so much. He felt the pain, it started at his back, but it soon filled him up. With every forceful thrust he felt that pain again and with it he felt as if another piece of him was broken apart. "Stop...", he gave out one last pleading cry, but as his voice broke all the lion man did in respond was thrusting even harder. As it went on Brian felt tears stating to run down his cheeks, while pain and agony were mixing up in his mind. He wanted to flee this place, but physically he was trapped, so all he could do is try to dream himself away. When he closed his eyes as his soul was being ripped apart like this, he dreamed of Nick again. Oh, if only he could have been with him now. If only Frack was here to keep him save. But he was not and yet all he could do to keep his strength, was thinking of him. The guests had no mercy with him. Even as the lion man was done for that night, he knew that they would be back. This was his fate now, he had taken the wrong turn and trusted the wrong people. Now he was trapped in Peters House of Horrors. There was nothing he could do to escape it. Even if he wasn't physically locked up in the club at night, he had to come back every day. If he didn't do what Peter wanted, he would have brought down the Backstreet Boys. After all he had done to them already, he couldn't let that happen.
So over the months Brian kept coming back and Peters guests took everything that was left of him. With every person that touched him, used him and abused him another part of him died until nothing was left. And every night, after they used him, they left him with his prize: coke to wash the problems away. That drug was his treacherous friend. It had lead him down this part to begin with, but also promised a sweet escape from this hell. So he snorted each line as quick as he could. He was trying everything he could to escape reality and if coke wasn't enough, he took whatever else they offered him: alcohol, E, Ketamine, Speed. With all the stuff he took it was a wonder, that he didn't die from it. Of course everything that happened left traces on his body. The months went by and he lost weight, strength and the colour to his face. He hardly could recognize himself anymore when he looked in the mirror. But even though Bri looked like a corpse, it did not scare him. It was a welcome sight. All that suffering he was going through: one look in the mirror told him, that it would all be over soon.
The final solution was edging closer. Soon he would be gone and with his last breath, he would be able to let go of all of his suffering.