The last time Aaron Carter toured in Japan he was smothered by the unconditional, harassing love normally reserved for teen idols Hanson or the Backstreet Boys. |

Amid the ardor, one starry-eyed native gave Aaron her phone number and told him she'd wait for him 'til the end of time if he promised to someday marry her -- a common, albeit hackneyed solicitation in the pell-mell world of rock & roll. Thing is, the girl was a twenty-six-year-old woman and Aaron is a ten-year old boy.

"I told Aaron, 'man, I thought I was pretty popular in high school. I don't even come close to you.'" says Mike Self, Aaron's bulky bodyguard. "No one can." This coming from a lifelong friend of Aaron's older brother, Nick, better known as the blonde one in -- pre-programmed drum roll, please -- the Backstreet Boys.

Young Aaron is sporting a Ken Griffey, Jr., jersey, jean shorts that almost completely cover his legs and hip-hop style gold chain around is neck. Fidgeting in his chair at New York's All-Star CafT, Aaron has one eye on the British Open being projected on a big screen and the other on the dinner knife he's precariously moving about his face to the apparent ambivalence of his bodyguard and one of his management representatives.

Behind him, an adorable young girl, about Aaron's age, is disengaged from her family and prowling around his backside. Without Aaron noticing, she steals long, obvious looks at him. Maybe she recognizes him from the covers of magazines like Bop or Big Bopper, or maybe she just thinks he's fine. Aaron's management rep Melinda Bell and Self think she knows.

It's several hours before young Aaron goes to work and now it's playtime. Tonight, he will take the stage at New York's Radio City Music Hall, sing more than fifteen minutes of pre-recorded Cocoa Puff's-and-Yoo-Hoo synth dance pop from his self-titled debut, listen to impresarios tell him how great he was, maybe catch some of the Backstreet Boys' act, and be snug as a bug in a rug in bed by nine o'clock. If the boy from Tampa is even a little bit nervous about making his debut in New York, it isn't showing.

"Everywhere we go, there's an arcade," Aaron says. "There's an arcade out there." Hint, hint. Aaron's a little bit tired of answering questions about his likes and dislikes, subjects of monumental importance in Teen Beat-type magazines where he's routinely featured. But Aaron can't quite get his sapling arms around less-fluffy questions like, 'Do you know who Todd Bridges is?'

"I don't really know what you mean by that," Aaron responds when asked if he's worried that earning fame now will mean heartache later. "I don't think that's done that to me. Do you think that's done that to me?" Well, Aaron, you're only ten.

For the record, Aaron likes the film Mousehunt and sushi, and dislikes English class and girls. "What does that mean?," asks Bell, regarding Aaron's last dislike. Right now, Gunblade, a pugilistic arcade game, has Aaron more hot-and-bothered than any icky girl ever could. Waiting patiently for another boy to finish his quarter's worth before Aaron can take over, Self seems quite pleased no one at the restaurant seems to recognize the kid.

"We can't go anywhere," Self says. "We were in Germany and we tried to go shopping -- me, Aaron and a dancer. Aaron had a hundred fans behind us ... I haven't experienced Asia yet but I hear it's big over there. We might have to get another security guy."

BLAIR R. FISCHER(September 4, 1998)