For One Man Writing Games.

"No."

"James-"

"No."

"Come on, jus-"

"Kendall, I said no."

"It's not that big a deal!" I threw my hands up in the air.

"Yes it is, you know it is, what the hell is wrong with you?" His eyes were like wildfire. They spat embers and hot coal at me, stinging my own eyes and throat.

"He said it was fine-"

"But he was lying, Kendall!" he practically screamed, despite the shared knowledge that we had to keep as quiet as possible. "Don't you see? He always does that-"

"Does what?"

"Hurts himself for us!" I rolled my eyes.

"He does not."

"Think about it, Kendall. Just for one moment, try to have the capacity to think."

My crossed arms tightened against my chest, fingers clenching unforgivingly at the fabric of my jacket, but I remained oblivious in my anger.

Logan. We were arguing about Logan. There was some sort of party for the Palm Woods, to celebrate the success of Guitar Dude, who was leaving to finally start his music career. It was a wonder how he'd even been picked up, but for some reason someone had wanted him, so he was leaving. It was a going away party, and for once Bitters had allowed it, but I was sure it was only because he'd hated Guitar Dude's loud, constant music plaguing him morning and night.

The problem, however, was not Guitar Dude's miraculous success. It was the fact that Logan was sick. He had come down with a nasty case of the flu, and was throwing up nonstop since the day before. Now it was the day of the party, and it was confirmed by a very worried mother and a very weakened Logan that there would be no Mitchells at the party tonight. We were all concerned and contemplated what to do, suggesting skipping the party to stay home with Logan, but he fervently pressed for us to just go and have fun. Don't let him ruin our night. In short there was a lengthy argument in which we battled back and forth, stay, leave, stay, leave, stay, leave. Finally, just to appease the poor sick boy, we had all agreed to just go, and he had been able to relax. But now it was the time of the party, and when asked if he was ready to go, James had stated firmly that he wasn't about to leave Logan alone while they all had the time of their lives. Another argument had threatened to break out, but before anything could get too violent, I had pulled James out into the hallway for discussion.

Now I was remembering Logan's words from earlier this morning, replaying them in my head to make any sense of what James was apparently so convinced of. "Guys, I swear, it's nothing. I hate parties Remember what happened at the last one, the one Carlos and James threw? I don't think I can ever relive that. Besides, I'm not even going to notice you're gone. I'm sick, and the only things I'll be able to do are throw up and sleep. If you stay you'll just be wasting a good night out. Go to the party, it's fine." He'd even started to get angry at our stubbornness. So why was James so intent on staying? Everything Logan had said made sense, it always did. What was James' problem?

"Nope. Can't think of anything." I stated in a hard voice. James' eyes flashed.

"How about how he always says that he needs new friends whenever he knows we're gonna get in trouble, but he always sticks with us anyway? I don't know about you, but I'd call that pretty selfless if anyone were to ask me."

"Well you know what, no one's asking you," I spat, my anger getting the best of me. His stare darkened and he turned to grasp the doorknob with white fingers.

"I can't believe you, Kendall," he snarled viciously, violently wrenching the door open and slamming it shut behind him. I winced at the force he used, but I was too angry to care. Furious, I stormed away towards the elevator, slamming my fist on the down button.

It was frustrating. So fucking frustrating. James and I could never agree on anything anymore- it was like he'd changed into a whole different person in the last month. He stood up to me more, but in a negative way, like he was just out to prove me wrong on everything I said. On the inside, I was balling up and dropping off the top of Niagra Falls, but outside I was furious, unwilling to let anything show me any better. James was ignorant and stupid and just- god, I really fucking hated him right now.

What gave him the right to be so infuriating, anyway? Why was he doing this, just to make my life difficult? Did he know what he ended up doing to me every time we got into a fight like this? It wasn't like he cared if he did know, anyway. He'd made that clear to me minuets ago.

James walked into the room in all his pretty glory, and I grinned at him, despite Logan's sick form lying on the couch just a few feet away. James had started the process of getting dressed up for the party a full hour and a half ago, and had started running late. Carlos had already left to meet up with Stephanie, because he hadn't wanted her missing him long enough for "bad things" to happen.

"Hey, you ready to go?" I asked him, trying to keep my voice low for a sleeping Logan. I knew I was ready. I had been looking forward to this night since I'd heard about it, and though Logan's getting sick had been a setback, I was still greatly anticipating the life and fun of the party, guilt set aside until it was over. At my question James bit his lip and grimaced guiltily, and my grin fell slightly.

"Yeah, uh..." he started, scratching at his left forearm. "About that- I- kinda decided that I'm just gonna stay home with Logan."

"What?" It blew from my mouth in a mixture of shock and indignation, volume kept down but tone flying slightly out of control. My heart dropped to my feet and I tried not to give him the betrayed look I felt like giving, instead working myself into a cover of anger. He knew what that had felt like, I saw it in his eyes and that continued grimace, but his next words did not acknowledge that.

"Yeah, I'm not going to the party. You can just leave if you want, I'm sure Jo is waiting on you." And I couldn't explain why that stung so much. He seemed so unreasonably resentful, and I tried reasoning with him before anything could blow up the way I knew it would if I didn't take care of it immediately.

"But- Why? I mean, you're all dressed up and ready to go, why so suddenly-"

"Because of Logan," he interrupted, and that's when the thick pit in my throat turned into that anger I'd been waiting on, but this time it was different than our recent arguments. It was... bitten. Hurt anger.

"James-" I started, but he cut me off.

"I know what you're gonna say, Kendall, and my answer still stands. I'm staying here." His eyes were hard and unmoving, and the pit in my throat swelled.

"But James, you- This is a going away party, for Guitar Dude! Don't you think he would be offended if you didn't show up? He's leaving," I stressed, but he wasn't swayed. In fact, what I said seemed to rile him up even more.

"Really, Kendall?" he said condescendingly, and I winced. "Don't you think Logan is a little more important than that? Guitar Dude is almost always too high to even notice half the things that go on around him, and Logan has been our best friend since grade school. Which do you think matters more?" I didn't like his tone. I hated it. I wanted him to stop, so maybe all the hurting would stop, too. I wasn't about to come out and ask for it, though, my anger continuing to get the best of me despite the consequences that would probably be coming later.

"James, Logan isn't even awake," I told him, "and when he is awake he's either throwing up or trying to get back to sleep. He even said so himself. He doesn't want you to stay, now come on."

"No, Kendall, fuck you. I'm staying here whether you like it or not."

"Why are you being so stupid?" I cried, and suddenly a weak groan arose from the couch. Both our heads snapped to the sound, and I found myself irate with the boy for interrupting something so- I don't know, important?

"What's going on?" Logan asked softly, tiredly. He coughed slightly, eyelids heavy with sleep. I couldn't even force myself to care.

"Nothing," I growled, reaching forward to clench my fingers around James' arm. "We were just leaving."

It still stung, even now. How he'd known it had hurt me that he was staying, and that he'd ignored it and moved on like it hadn't even happened. Like before, it made my insides clench painfully, but on the outside I had been set on fire. I was ready to kill anything that had the misfortune of coming across my path.

The elevator doors slid open and I stormed my way out, heading for the pool area where the party was taking place. The music was loud, the normally open space was cramped, but none of it made it to my head. I beelined for Carlos, who was chatting it up with Stephanie, Jo, and Camille. He glanced up at my arrival and almost smiled before confusion took over his features.

"Hey," he greeted. "Where's James?"

"He's not coming," I said curtly, and his face fell. I decided to take satisfaction in the fact that James was wrong yet again in hurting another person. "He wanted to stay back with Logan."

Understanding curtained over Carlos' features and he nodded. "Oh, that's cool." He smiled. "I'm glad Logan doesn't have to be alone. He was really looking forward to this party."

"What?" This was news. Logan hadn't said anything about that, just that he'd rather we three go without him. I hadn't even considered the possibility that he might have been lying.

It was like a brick to the face.

"Yeah," Carlos was saying, oblivious to the sudden numbness and whiteness in my face. "He was really excited, he wanted to spend more time with Camille, to make up for last time's disaster."

"Aw, he did?" Camille swooned, a bright grin lighting up her face. Carlos' cheeks pinkened when he realized what he'd just said.

"Uh. Yeah." He tried to duck his head but Camille was pulling him into a crushing hug.

"He's so sweet!" she cried, and Jo and Stephanie were laughing in the background. All I could feel was sick to my stomach.

"God, I'm an idiot," I muttered furiously to myself, beginning to stalk off in the direction of the chairs in the corner by the ice machine. A voice calling out behind me stopped me.

"Kendall, where are you going?" I winced and turned to face a frowning Jo. Her eyes were wide, like she couldn't believe I was about to just leave her during a party. I couldn't believe myself either. Now I was not only a horrible best friend, but a terrible boyfriend, too.

"Sorry, I just-" I began carefully, but she just laughed and stepped forward into my body, curling her hands around one of my arms.

"It's okay," she amended. "Wanna dance?" A song had just begun to play, slow and soft, and I knew she wanted to spend time with me. I didn't have the heart to refuse her; since the episode with Jordan Sparks, I'd been trying extra hard to prove to her that she was the only one for me. Sighing shortly and hoping she didn't notice, I forced a soft smile and agreed.

"Sure." Her eyes shined as she beamed and I led her over to the dance floor with all the other couples. She slipped her arms around my neck and I held mine around her slim waist, trying to lean into the touch like I normally would.

It felt awkward.

It was awkward and wrong, because I knew there was something else so much more important than dancing with my girlfriend. I shouldn't have been doing this, I shouldn't have been relaxing like this. I should have been marching myself back to the apartment and doing the same thing as James, comforting Logan and abandoning everything else for more important things.

It frustrated me that he was right, and that I'd gone through so much useless anger only to find out that I'd been wrong. It added to everything else I was feeling, but the most prominent of my emotions was the stung pain from before.

"Th- You really don't care?" And I was asking about me, the anticipation I'd held all week, the desire for just having a great time with him and his party buddy and the girls and everything else. It wasn't Guitar Dude's feelings I was focusing on, but mine. He glared and shook his head in disgust.

"No."

I clung more tightly to Jo, trying to let everything fade away with the replacement of just us, like nothing else would matter if we were close enough. She rested her head on the side of my chest, moving in time with the music, and I tried to concentrate, I really did. But I kept losing my focus and the next time I came back to myself I could hear the last syllables of her words echoing in the shell of my ear.

"Hmm?" I hummed distractedly, stepping her back slightly. Her voice was soft as she repeated what she'd said.

"I just said that this is nice. I like this. We never get to spend much time alone like this anymore." She sounded a little sad, and I tried to get myself to care the way I should, and it was disconcerting that I couldn't really. I wasn't focusing, my thoughts were too cloudy.

"Yeah..." was all I had to offer. I did feel a little pang of guilt when I realized how bad that sounded. She lifted her head from my shoulder to look me in the eyes.

"Kendall, are you okay?" she asked with light concern in her eyes. I cringed inside. I still couldn't bring myself to leave her.

"Everything's fine," I assured her, and I'd never told a bigger lie in my life. She smiled and accepted, and I, trying to get my mind off things, leaned my neck down to press my forehead to hers. She gazed into my eyes, and I could tell she was caught up in some moment, which I wasn't able to share, not with the guilt and pain and frustration eating at my insides.

The song went on and we continued to dance, holding close to each other, both for different reasons. As the party progressed, I realized something: I wasn't having fun. It wasn't just my emotions, but something more physical, or an absence of something physical. It took me a while to figure it out, but when I looked over at Carlos, still talking to both Camille and Stephanie, it hit me; James. Sure, this gathering had the label of a party, but it wasn't really a party without James. It wasn't fun, it wasn't real, and it was eating away at me like a thousand maggots. It wasn't working without him. I wasn't working without him; knowing that I'd left on that horrible note, that he was still up there, with Logan, probably thinking the same as I was, knowing him. My guilt intensified, and I couldn't even try to enjoy the fake party anymore. I held Jo, and she held me, and when the song ended, she craned up and kissed me.

It didn't feel right to kiss back.

She pulled away, eyes showing that concern more prominently. "Kendall, are you sure you're okay? You seem like something's bothering you. And," she continued when I opened my mouth to say something, "you keep looking up at the window of your apartment."

My mouth had run dry and I couldn't find words right away.

"Is there something you need to fix with Logan?" she asked softly with understanding, but I shook my head. I didn't want to hurt more people than I already had tonight.

"No, I swear, it's all good." A rapid pace picked up with the beat of a new song and I stepped away from her. A small, false smile grafted over my lips. "Wanna go sit somewhere and I'll get us some drinks?"

She mirrored my smile, but hers was real, and nodded. "Alright, I'll be over there," she gestured to the tables at the end of the pool across the area from the lobby. We parted ways, and my smile dropped. I wanted to fix this.

When I made it to the ice machine, where the drinks and snacks were piled over each other, I snuck to a dark corner and pulled out my phone, flipping it open and hastily typing up a messy text.

I was wrong. I'm sorry. Forgive me?

I hit the send button and slipped my phone back into my pocket, heading over to the snacks and grabbing two drinks before going for Jo's table in the back. I set her drink in front of her and she smiled at me, accepting it. I sat across from her and took a sip of my own, trying to keep my fingers from jittering all over the place and spilling it across my lap. With each passing second I got more nervous, because it meant more time without a response from James. Of course I was still hurt by his apathy, but that didn't make it worth losing one of my best friends for life. I could swallow my pride for once if it was for something like this.

The night continued to progress in this fashion. Jo and I talked together for a little bit before Carlos and the other girls joined us and it became a group table. I stole away another moment to send James another text with shaking fingers.

Please don't be mad. I really am sorry.

Letting out a shuddering breath, I leaned back in my chair and found that yes, I was consistently glancing up at the window of 2J. I couldn't help it, though- I was scared out of my mind that I had just managed to fuck up my life for good. James had been the closest to me through our four-way friendship, and losing him would be like losing the world. I couldn't manage that. I needed him.

I couldn't stand life without you.

Jo knew something was up. Carlos knew something was up. Camille and Stephanie knew something was up. But no one said anything, for which I was grateful. I didn't want anyone else getting pulled down by my problems, my idiocy. I was going to solve this on my own, I didn't need anyone's care or help. I didn't deserve it.

Please, don't let this change anything.

My worry grew painful. There was terrifying suspense, curdling fear, and he wasn't responding to anything. My whole hands shook as I tried clumsily to send another message. It took me multiple times before the simple words came out right.

I'm sorry.

And I left it at that.

...

The party ended at ten thirty, because Bitters had been getting complaints from other residents of the Palm Woods and had shut everything down before he started losing guests. Carlos and I said our goodbyes to the girls, and when Jo pulled away from our kiss goodnight, there was still worry hinting behind her eyes. As Carlos and I stood in the elevator, rising slowly and steadily, he spoke up.

"Dude... You didn't seem right tonight. You okay?" And honestly, I had gotten tired of that question. I was tired of being constantly cared for when I didn't deserve it, I was tired of lying every time. I was tired of being scared because each time I was asked, the answer was no.

"I'm fine," I gritted out, and he fell silent as the elevator doors opened to the second floor. Suddenly we were facing the door to our apartment, and I was struck by numbing, mind-blowing fear. I didn't want to open that door. I didn't want to be faced with James' hatred, his apathy. For a split second, I almost wanted to run. I wanted to turn around and find the nearest supply closet so I could lock myself up in it and hide from everything, so I wouldn't have to deal with the pain of being rejected.

I didn't run away.

Instead, I stepped forward, took hold of the doorknob, pulled it open, and strode inside the apartment. And I faltered.

Logan was still on the couch, awake, and James had a chair pulled up and was slowly rubbing his shoulder, soothingly, comfortingly. I felt small and insignificant, and the feeling strengthened when James looked up on entrance and got a hard look in his eye before turning back to Logan and murmuring softly. I suddenly felt rooted to the spot, like I knew that no matter how desperately I tried to move, I wouldn't be able to. I could only stare as James sat there with Logan, like he had obviously done all night, instead of going out and having fun. Not that the party was fun. No, it was horrible. And now things were ten times worse. I was again faced with the strong desire to run away, run as fast as I could, but no, I wasn't going to. I was going to fix this right now.

Carlos, sensing the sudden tension rifling through the air, muttered a quick goodnight and headed off to his room. The door closed and a heavy silence dropped over the whole room. I was still stuck to the same spot, unable to move for my life. I wanted to convey words, to say something that might fix this, even just a little, but my throat was sticky and closed up, and I realized that it wouldn't work anyway. The text messages had said everything I'd meant, and he'd ignored them. It was a lost battle from the start.

"How was the party?" James spoke up, and he wasn't rubbing Logan's shoulder anymore. Logan had fallen asleep. I tried to clear my way through the debris clogging my throat enough to speak, but all I could manage was a choked out failure of a sentence.

"It was horrible."

"Good." And I just wanted to give up. I wanted to retreat so easily like Carlos had done, but my legs still wouldn't let me move. I could only stand there and let the well-deserved blows hit me full in the face.

"He wanted to go," I stilted out, and he scoffed, shaking his head.

"You're an idiot."

"I know."

"He cried."

"I'm sorry."

"I hate you right now."

"I know," biting my lip. The verbal abuse was killing me, but I had to endure it if anything was ever going to work out again. Give him time to let it all out. Let yourself die so that he can live.

"How could you not care?"

"What?" It was so unexpected, so exactly the same thing I wanted to ask him, that I was completely caught off guard. His eyes flared and I wished I had given a smarter reaction.

"About Logan, about his feelings? How did you think he would feel if we all just left him? Sure, he said he didn't care, but how could you honestly think he meant it? Why didn't you fucking see it?" He was shaking now with the force and emotion of his words, and I thought that if I had to keep standing here for another moment my knees would snap and I would drop to the floor like a sack of rocks. "Kendall, he fucking cried almost the whole time! He was going off on how everything horrible always happens to him and he told me of all the instances, and you know what, a whole fucking lot of them are because of you. You just- You're so fucking selfish sometimes!"

Each word was a spray of a thousand needles, and by the end of it I was on the verge of tears. I had really messed up this time. It was so bad that I couldn't even hide behind the anger I always built up for myself. I was just... empty. Everything he said made sense. I was selfish. I was a horrible person. I made life miserable for my friends.

I was a screw up.

And then James made it even worse by striking angry tears from his own cheeks. He was crying. He was hurt in some way. I felt too weak to even breathe.

"James-"

"No!" he cut me off, and I fell silent. "You listen, Kendall, for one goddamn second! You go around doing whatever the hell you want whenever the hell you want, and you don't even think about what they might feel. Did you even consider that I'd be hurt when you said all those things? You called me stupid, Kendall. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?"

I was speechless. I... No, I hadn't. It had just come out, I hadn't meant anything by it. I never knew it would have that much of an effect on him. My guilt intensified until it felt like I was going to drown or be crushed by the overwhelming pressure, and it was the most horrible thing I'd ever experienced. My whole world was crashing down on me in that instant. And James was still talking.

"I already feel worthless enough, and it doesn't goddamn help that one of the most important people in my life is telling me like that. I already know, okay? So just- fucking leave me alone, okay? If this is all you're gonna do to me, then I don't want any of it." And he just sat there, crying. It was terrifying. He doubled over and clutched his sides, sobbing brokenly and in a rage. They were angry, hurt tears, the kind I wanted to let out. And they did come out, because I was crying, too. I didn't even matter anymore, though. I had hurt James. I had been lamenting over what he had done to me, and I had turned around and done the same thing to him.

"James..."

"No!"

"James, please..."

"Stop it!"

"James."

"What?" he spat in near disgust, and I flinched, but suddenly I was able to move again, and instead of bolting for the bathroom and vomiting as hard as I possibly could, I made my way over to him and knelt down beside him. He was shaking violently, but I didn't hesitate to wrap my arms around him as best I could from my sudden height disadvantage. He jerked away from my touch, but I held on, even pulled him closer. "Kendall, stop it."

"No," I said, but it came out as more of a whimper as my voice broke. "James, you need to stop it. You're beating yourself up for no reason. I- was the stupid one. God, I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have said such tactless things, and I had no idea they would hurt you. I... I thought you were the strong one."

"What?"

I took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I was really, really fucking stupid. I was blind. I was so caught up in myself that I didn't see what I was doing to you. And I'm so, so sorry. James, I swear I am. You... shouldn't ever think that about yourself, okay? Promise me you won't, because none of it is true. You are the most beautiful, talented person I've ever met. You're the most important person in my life by far, and you have no idea how much it absolutely tears me apart to hear all that. I honestly feel like the worst person in the world right now, and I deserved every word of what you said. I'm so, so sorry, for everything. I don't know if I should even hope you could ever forgive me, and I sure as hell don't deserve it, but..." I trailed off, my mouth dry, unable to say anything else. I was terrified, I was crying. I forced myself to keep from clinging tighter to him, because I was scared he would push me away if I did.

Then he came down from the chair to the floor, down to my level, so he could wrap his strong arms around me, bury his head in my shoulder, and cry.

I honestly have no idea where that Kendall/Jo sprung out from. Gonna have to find that crack and plug it up.