Michelle Tanner
Back to Your Heart

It was summer in San Francisco. Eleven-year-old Michelle Tanner sat at the window in her bedroom, which she shared with her sister Stephanie, sixteen, staring out the window, looking up at the stars — letting her mind wander...

She was trying to write a short story. Only it wasn’t for something like English class at school; it was for fun, so she could get a chance to practice her écriture skills. However, she couldn’t get any ideas so far. Of course, she suspected the culprit was the dreaded “writer’s block” she had heard so much about. So she tried letting her mind come up with ideas on its own — perhaps maybe that would help a bit.

She turned and looked at the clock; it was 9:00 PM. With that, she changed into her pajamas and got into bed. Soon — a dream came to her...

************************

Michelle looked around. She was in some kind of bedchamber. She looked down and her eyes widened. The bed, which she happened to be sitting on, had red silk hangings, black satin sheets, and red pillows.

“Whoa,” she said. She had never seen anything like this before in her dreams. Of that she was sure.

Then she heard voices calling to her...

“Michelle... Michelle, come to us...”

She blinked. She figured she had heard the voices somewhere previously. And one thing was for certain — they definitely knew her name.

So she got off the bed, walked across the carpet and out into the hall. Thankfully, the hall was lit par torches, so she was able to see where it would lead her.

Her feet soon led her to a room with a lit that was even bigger than the one she had just left. In front of the room was a see-through curtain made of silk. However, when she reached up to pull back the curtain, it automatically pulled itself to one side, which surprised her a little.

Whoa, now that was unexpected, she thought.

Shrugging in a casual manner, she walked over to the bed. Besides being bigger, it sure looked different as well.

Then the voice spoke again as she sat on the bed. This time the tone was playful.

“Michelle... lay down. Lay back into our arms. Lay back, Michelle.”

Odd... these sensations... strange... she couldn’t help but feel... well... anything...

As she lay on her back on the bed, she started to feel like there were eyes — eyes on her... eyes that looked as though they belonged to... the Backstreet Boys...

But all she felt was pleasurable sensations....

Sinking into the comforter, she looked up and saw... Nick Carter climbing on haut, retour au début of her, grinning like a lover, although the word made her blush. He purred as a black panthère would upon finding its prey, and then placed his mouth over hers.

She moaned into the Kiss — as she had never tasted a Kiss like that previously. It was full of... an indescribable emotion of some kind that she couldn’t put into words at the moment.

Finally, when Nick pulled his mouth away, she looked over to her right side, and there was AJ McLean. He smiled, and pressed his mouth against her cheek. On her other side was Howie Dorough, also known as “the Latin Lover”, and Kevin Richardson.

Howie was smiling also, and took her left wrist in his hands. Then he began to déplacer his mouth up towards her shoulder.
Brian “B-Rok” Littrell then appeared suivant to Howie.

“Guys,” she whispered, fear replacing the newly discovered want in her voice, “stop this. Please.”

“Oh, Michelle,” Nick replied, his sky blue orbs gleaming with the emotion she had read about with fear in a book she had found one rainy Saturday — lust.

“You taste so... nice...” purred AJ as he ran his hand down her other arm. Shivers rocked her body.

“Stop, please.” She knew she had to tell them something very important.

“How about no?” It was Howie. “The night outside... it’s so cold, wet and rainy... and the lightning. The minute toi run out into the storm, toi will get soaked...”

As he spoke, Michelle shivered — partly from his words, and partly from having to spend the night out in the rain.

Brian nodded as though in agreement. “Stay with us, Michelle.”

In response she tried to wiggle out of their grasps that were so... tight and snakelike. Finally she succeeded.

“Guys,” she finally said, serious, “in case toi didn’t know, I’m trying to get ideas for a short story I’m écriture for fun.”

A chorus of “Wow” and “Cool!” were thrown around.

“So that’s what toi were trying to tell us,” AJ smiled, getting the idea.

Nick then said, “Sorry, Michelle. We were just being playful.”

Michelle smiled. “That’s OK.”

AJ grinned in return upon seeing hers. He liked her smile; it was like the grin of an Angel in human form.


*********************

Michelle opened her eyes, smiling.

Probably tossing and turning in my sleep — again, she chided herself while grinning mentally at the same time.

She checked to see if Stephanie had been awoken par her tossing and turning. Luckily, she hadn’t. Michelle breathed a sigh of relief.

Then she remembered her short story, and her smile grew bigger. It was the kind that usually appeared whenever her dad, Danny, her Uncle Jesse, Joey, her oldest sister Donna Jo, nicknamed “DJ”, 21, who was accueil from college on a break, and Stephanie mentioned ice cream whenever she was listening.

With that, she fell asleep, deciding to work out her short story in the morning. And the coolest part was, she had actually broken down the mental brick mur of writer’s block, allowing the river of inspiration to flow through, its waters splashing against the rocks she had seen in her mind.

It’s not that I can’t live without you
It’s just that I don’t even want to try
Every night I dream about you
Ever since the jour we a dit goodbye
If I wasn’t such a fool
Right now I’d be holding you
There’s nothin’ that I wouldn’t do
Baby if I only knew

The words to say
The road to take
To find a way back to your heart
What can I do
To get to you
And find a way back to your heart

~Backstreet Boys, Back to Your Heart
The Backstreet Boys