'Backstreet Boy Brian Littrell returned home today after a short stay in hospital. The young man had been attacked by a man with a knife when he returned home to find a burglar in his house and suffered several severe knife wounds, but he is now almost fully recovered. A spokesperson claims that he will be back to health and back on tour in a few weeks. For now the boys are taking a brief rest before resuming their tour. As for the attacker, the police suspect Liam Baker, an extremely dangerous man who has eluded them for many years…'
"Oh, they would miss out the main detail of the story wouldn't they?" he spat as he thumped the remote control with his hand to silence the TV set before him. "The fucking Backstreet Boy fought back didn't he? What don't you mention that in your fucking report!" He threw his beer glass at the wall and watched as it shattered into splinters and send a dribble of beer trickling down to the carpet.
He raised his arms into the air and bellowed with rage. "Idiots! He's a fucking, cold-blooded murderer! Why won't you bloody cops send him to the slammer with the rest of the fucking killers?"
No, no, no! NO! He was supposed to go to jail with all of the other murderers! Imagine how they would treat Brian when they realised that he was a goody goody popstar brat with less balls than a poodle.
He stared at the letter he had received that morning. His 'friend' hadn't even had the guts to tell him to his face and had written this pathetic latter instead.
'Sorry, he isn't going down. Apparently there isn't enough evidence. I've tried to dig up a few things but there's nothing. If you have any other ideas then let me know.'
He should have buried the body in Littrell's backyard, that would have been evidence for them, but he had panicked. Hell, how had he been expected to think straight? The only thing that kept his grief at bay was the sheer anger. How dare that Backstreet bastard fight back? He was supposed to just die!
"You should never mess with me," he hissed as the image of Brian's face crept into his mind like a fat worm. "Never. You will pay for what you have done."
If the police weren't going to punish him, then he would do it himself.
And he would have fun doing it…