“You are so nice. That is why I love you," she said and gave me a kiss.I regret what I said the moment that I said it. It was true alright, but perh...ps I shouldn’t be this easy on her? Maybe that is the reason that she wants to date other people?“But seriously, honey, you have to start eating right again. I can feel your ribs. I, on the other hand, have to lose some weight around my belly and my butt is too big. Pretty soon no one will want to fuck this,” she said with a smile while pointing at. I was twenty four years old now and he was thirty one.I flew over to see the Backstreet Boys in London end of July last year. It was the best night of my life. Especially because I spent an entire night with Nick Carter.I arrived at the packed out Wembley Arena that had around 6,000 screaming fans. I stood at the front of the stage seeing sweat dripping down from each member as they sang and danced across the stage with their dancers.Each member began doing their solos and Nick Carter did his. I smelled something that was not goat or man then. A dark, half-burnt smell. I watched a fully covered woman appear and place a steaming pot on the floor before the old man. He nodded and she vanished as quickly as she had appeared, leaving behind her nothing but a soft smell of … of … I could not place the scent. Unable to move, I watched out of necessity, as the leathery man lifted the pot and poured himself a small cupful. He then grinned his toothless smile and passed it to the man to his. “There’s no guarantee this will bring us any more notice than the company has brought. People in some charitable circles might look at us, but there are a lot of charities, even very well-funded ones, that the public doesn’t really know much about.”“So the risk is that it might expose us, but that’s going to happen sooner or later. And the upside is money?”“Money is a part of it, but not all of it. If we have someone like Francis Keen in our orbit, it will make it easier to get others to.