Five will make you get down, whether you like it or not

My brother Facetimed me last night and said:

'Is that....are you wearing....a Backstreet Boys t-shirt?'

And I was like:

'Yes, and you know why? Because Backstreet's back, alright.'

And I think that for the first time in our relationship, he truly respected me. Much like all of you will come to do by the end of this blog post.

What did I do on Sunday you eagerly ask?

I went to see the BACKSTREET BOYS and FIVE and MCFLY and BUSTED and SCOUTING FOR GIRLS.

And I really was fifteen again. Well, apart from the wine (because it was all about the vodka red bulls at fifteen, naturally).

On the run up to this fabulous day, I'd written it off to many as cheesy fun, something silly.

Little did I know, that in reality, the event would act as a fucking time machine. Sorry for swearing Mum, but I wanted to emphasise the degree to which I felt transported back to a much loved era.

For a long time now, I have stuck loyally by acoustic, folk bands and all but turned my back on the pop world. But that was before the boy bands of my emotion strewn teens were dug up and ushered forth once more. And boy do they look good for the respite. I'm sorry, I know it's objectifying and pervy but I can't help myself. It was wonderful. It was like coming home. Nia, where are you, back me up here!

Sorry.

ALSO

We ate horrible chicken wraps, and instantly went on a terrifying ride, which afterwards, saw me brace myself against a fence as my stomach deliberated.

Then we got drenched in torrential rain and a security guard tried to dress me in a bin bag.

Then we got a bus into Ipswich town centre so that I could purchase appropriate clothing, and Nia could get cigarettes to help her endure.

I wasn't going to drink. I HAD to drink.

When Five came on stage, the rain stopped, the clouds parted, and the sun bore down. It was glorious. Small children danced. We tutted at them thinking, 'You don't know, you don't really understand how momentous this day is. You don't belong.'

We slam dunked the funk.

And if you don't recognise those lyrics, then you don't belong here either.

The closest I've been to truly BELIEVING (in what? Magic? That life was beautiful?) was when the Backstreet Boys serenaded us from the stage. They played the classics, ballads and base alike. Nia and I, we held each other, we sang it all out, watery eyed and mesmerised, we were teenagers once more. Craving sugary snacks, easily falling in love, slaves to the drama, and giddy with possibility. *Sigh*

And so, I leave you with these wise, BSB words, and with the knowledge that yes, a BSB film is out soon, and you can come with me, if you don't mind the constant stream of elated tears down my euphoric face.

"Am I original?
Yeah
Am I the only one?
Yeah
Am I sexual?
Yeah
Am I everything ya need?
You better rock your body now

Everybody
Rock your body
Everybody
Rock your body right
Backstreet's Back alright"