Note: Thought that in honour of Sweet D's birthday I'd try my hand on a drabble (a fic in exactly 100 words)... Written directly into my LJ client, while listening to 'If I Ever' on repeat. Hope I counted correctly - it's already late here... *g*
Howie used to think that he was useless. Short, ugly and untalented.
Sometimes those insecurities haunt him. Long enough to make him drown in self-pity.
The good thing about those phases is that the others invariably notice. They call it their 'Howie-dar' and it works always.
Even when they're apart.
So on his birthday Howie is not really surprised when he hears the doorbell and finds them all on his doorstep.
"Where are my presents?" he asks, already smiling again.
They just smirk, and Howie finds himself in his living room, drowning in the love of four Backstreet Boys.
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