A/N: So here's that one-shot I promised. You guys can thank Gaga for this one, as it was inspired by the song "Hair" and does base itself partially around the lyrics. I love that song, so much. So, anyways, from James' POV (not something I'm used to), this is It's Who I Am. (Technically this is AU, but it really doesn't matter much. It doesn't affect the story in any way other than that they aren't in a band.)
"Whenever I dress cool my parents put up a fight.
And if I'm a hot-shot mom will cut my hair at night."
Even if my mom is in the fashion industry, she didn't want her son to be a pretty boy originally. She wanted the normal sort of little seven year old boy who was obsessed with sports and dinosaurs and bugs and all that more than he was obsessed with keeping his hair beautiful and luxurious and being in style and fashionable (well, as in-style and fashionable as a seven year old could get). Don't get me wrong, I still loved playing little league hockey, and I loved dinosaurs, and I loved bugs, but if my preschool friend Kendall (or pretty much anyone for that matter) so much as touched let alone messed up my hair or clothing then I got pissed. So when I was eight, my mom did the unthinkable: she started cutting my hair and restricting my outfits to something like a uniform.
My life was ruined.
Every two weeks she would take me to the barber and have them give me the same cut that my hockey buddy Carlos always got. My hair was short, it was shine-less, it was boring, and it was just saddening. My outfits went from being completely cool looking and stylish to sweater-vests and khaki pants that made me look like my school friend Logan, the boy already developing into the resident nerd that everyone knows and loves today. Kendall, Carlos, and Logan all stuck up for me and my style at first, but the tyrannical power of four moms against their eight-year-old sons wasn't easily overcome, and so I stayed the same for almost five years.
It was only when I was thirteen that my mom finally let up on the idea of controlling me so much. I was a "big boy" according to her, and I could "forge my own path through style". Those words made me beyond happy, as the sweater-vests and khakis went out the window, with jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers brightening my life back up like a field full of fireflies. My hair grew back to its beautiful glory, I resumed washing it three times daily, and I started going to a stylist instead of a barber. Sure, it was a radical change for most of my middle school and hockey friends, but they mostly supported me through it. Kendall, Carlos, and Logan were all super-excited to see me going back to my original state, all of them commenting each day that my hair looked just as nice as it had when I was seven. From Carlos and Logan, those were just complements, and while they were nice they didn't seem to compare to Kendall's.
I didn't exactly understand what I felt for Kendall. I had known him the longest of anyone in our little friend group, and we had the deepest connection it seemed. It went a little further than friendship, and a little further than considering him like a brother. When he made some sort of comment on how nice my hair looked, it wouldn't inflate my ego like the other two did. Maybe it was just how when he complemented me my heart would flutter a little and my cheeks would turn pink. Or how when he was around I was never nervous and always ready to impress… mostly for him.
I didn't come to the realization that this was love until he saved me from getting my hands cut off. During a hockey match when we were 14 and just starting on high school Junior Varsity Hockey, my gloves fell off when I got knocked down and someone on the other team almost skated over my hands. That would have resulted in me losing my left hand at least and possibly my right one, but Kendall came to my rescue. He crashed into the huge boy that was barreling towards me, knocking the big lug off course and into a wall. He saved me from mutilation, and the Knight family trademarked smirk that he showed me when returning my gloves just melted my heart.
I knew I was in love. There was nothing else it could be.
"Sometimes I want some raccoon or red highlights
just because I want my friends to think I'm dynamite."
On my fifteenth birthday I went with a couple of girl friends to get our hair styled, and they convinced me into getting bright red streaks painted into my hair. It honestly was a terrible idea now that I look back on it (red isn't really my color; then again, I still look amazing in any color), but at the time I thought it was wonderful and daring. I came into school on the day after and everyone noticed, some people genuinely saying that it looked good, others giving the same complement then turning and making a snarky comment to their friends without even bothering to get out of earshot. The hockey team mostly thought I looked better with my helmet on, but that was always their thought. I should be concentrated on playing and doing amazing, not keeping an eye on my hair and it's luxurious beauty.
The first reactions from my three best friends were all different. Carlos loved the idea of the highlights, seeing them and immediately thinking that it was a great idea. Logan wasn't as supportive. His opinion mostly consisted of "Do you know how bad that type of dye is for your scalp?" and other assorted negative questions. Carlos joked that he was going to try it, running away smiling with Logan chasing him after the nerdy boy said that he wouldn't allow it. Kendall didn't share an opinion at first other than "It looks nice." He gave me a Knight family trademarked grin, setting my heart aflutter as always. He said nothing else about it, just getting back to practicing to become the future star hockey player of the Minnesota Wild.
The stripes eventually just faded away, but I don't think Kendall really acted the same way around me afterwards. He would blush sometimes when I complemented him on his hockey stance, on his clothing for the day, or on how he managed to snag a date with that one girl who I was insanely jealous of for getting his teenage boy hormones going better than I ever could.
"And on Friday, Rock City High School dance.
I've got my bangs to hide that I don't stand a chance."
Nobody ever expected the beautiful and genuinely nice eighteen-year-old James Diamond to go to Homecoming Dance alone. I looked amazing as always, my suit perfectly color matched, but couldn't help feeling left out. I always seemed to have an entourage of girls following me everywhere I went, but I had never actually asked any of them out. That's because my heart belonged to Kendall and Kendall alone. They would ask me out and I would just say something cheesy like "Sorry ladies, this item isn't for sale," or "I like all of you, but there just isn't enough of me for you all to have a piece," and then they would giggle and chatter about how amazing or cute I was. Actually, those girls didn't even get a share of love since Kendall held all of the stock in my heart that didn't go to my family and my best friends.
Carlos and Logan went together as a couple. The Latino had been harboring a crush for years that he told me about often, and Logan finally realized it when Carlos planted a kiss on his lips in the middle of the ice rink after the pale boy scored the winning goal of our championship hockey match the year before. During the random slow songs, the two of them danced near the center of the small crowd of people, Carlos nestled in Logan's arms and leaning his face up to take the smart boy's lips with his own every couple minutes. They made an adorable couple (so sweet that they gave you cavities), but I couldn't help but feel left out when I saw Kendall sitting next to or dancing with or kissing that stupid little girl that he had been dating for almost a year.
I just stood off to the side of the group, holding a cup and messing with my lavender tie as I waited for the night to end. I let my hair cover up my eyes so that he couldn't tell that I was looking at him, sadly wishing that I could be the one with his arms around me instead of that stupid little girl.
"I just want to be free,
I just want to be me
And I want lots of friends that invite me to their parties.
I don't wanna change,
and I don't wanna be ashamed.
I'm the spirit of my hair.
It's all the glory that I bear."
Eventually, the end of senior year rolled around, the post-high school partying beginning quickly for me. I would go out every night at 6 and come back anywhere from 9PM to 3AM, spending the whole time partying hard and occasionally getting drunk to the point of having to force someone else to take me home. I basically started to lose myself to the party lifestyle, but only one thing stopped me. One event turned everything around.
After one particularly energy-consuming party, I was left without a ride home, so I started wandering drunk through the streets of a suburban neighborhood. A car pulled up next to me, and the blond inside rolled down his window.
"Hi Kenny!" I chirp-slurred at him, alcohol probably heavy on my breath. He waved the noxious smell away and pointed to the seat next to him.
"Come sit down in here, James. I'm taking you home" I happily followed the order, too drunk to really understand what was going on. As soon as I sat down, he closed my door for me and started the long drive back to my house on the other side of town. To this day I swear that I don't remember any of the details of the actual ride up until we got close to my house. I heard Kendall saying things that didn't actually make it all the way to my brain, and I remember pretty lights speeding by and my hands trying to reach out and grab them. Apparently Carlos and Logan were asleep in the back of the car, nestled in each other's arms, Kendall having just picked the two up from the airport after they came back from California. But I didn't notice that till later. I was drunk.
The car pulled up outside my house and I looked out at it. It looked the same as always, but I didn't want to go inside. My parents didn't exactly love Party-James and his late night antics, and they would probably kill me for being smashed out of my mind if I went in there. I just sat in the car and waited for something to happen, finally feeling Kendall's hand on top of mine after what felt like hours of sitting in the somewhat uncomfortable seat. I only remember fragments of what he said to me.
"James, do you… spend the night… house?" I turned my head and blinked twice.
"What?" My face felt a little heavy and the word came out sounding like another person had said it.
"I said… want to… at my house?" I still didn't quite understand, but somehow my inebriated brain actually was able to put the two sentences together.
"Yes please." I saw him smile and turn the car back on, the lights outside starting to move once again. We drove the two blocks that separated mine and Kendall's houses, the car pulling quietly into the garage of the somewhat small house. Kendall shook Carlos lightly, waking the tan boy up and getting him to carry Logan to the guest bedroom. I tried to get out of the car but stumbled and fell to the floor of the garage, body hitting the concrete ground hard. I heard footsteps rush over, felt two arms reach underneath me and pick me up, and saw the walls move past as Kendall carried me into the house. It was past 2AM… or maybe it was only 12:30, I couldn't remember. All I knew was that I was tired, I was drunk, and I was in Kendall's house.
The blond carried me through the house, past the kitchen, past the closed doors that led to his mother's room and his little sister's room, past an open door where I saw Carlos laying Logan's sleeping body down on a bed, finally into what I'm guessing was his room. He placed me face down on the bed walking over to close the door and leave the room completely dark save for the light coming from the moon outside the window.
"James." I turned. He was laying next to me on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head.
"Yes Kenny?"
"What happened to you?" I rolled over and mimicked the way he was positioned.
"Well, you see, I went to a party tonight and-"
"I don't mean that," he interrupted, turning his body so the he was laying on his side now. His face was lit up by the small amount of moonlight, and his bottle green eyes were sparkling. I was mesmerized, and I'm amazed that I was able to understand him. "I mean, what happened to your life? After last year you just seemed to change around me, and I want to know what it is."
I didn't know how to respond other than starting to cry. My eyes watered up, and I looked over at him as tears began to flow, saddened sobriety returning to me. "Kendall… I'm so sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"Not telling you how much you mean to me for so long."
"What do you-"
"Kendall, I love you." He blinked twice, turning back to the ceiling.
"I love you too, buddy, but-"
"Damn it Kendall, I mean love love, not friend-love." I flipped myself over and buried my face in one of the pillows on his bed. My hair became disheveled and fell on all sides of my head, reflecting exactly how I felt. "I've loved you for such a long time, and I used to think that you loved me too, but after seeing you with that one girl Jen or whatever-"
"Jo." I glared at him, and he held up his hands defensively.
"I just felt devastated. I knew that you'd never feel the same way about me. So I hid my true self from you. I didn't want you to abandon me and have to deal with never seeing you again because you didn't like how I felt about you." Tears continued to stream down my face, and I felt an arm wrap around me.
"James, I understand what you-"
"No!" I shouted at him, startling him as I jumped off the bed. I whirled around and pointed at him, gritting my teeth, slamming my eyes shut, and furrowing my eyebrows in anger. "You'll never understand what it was like for me to see you like that. So damn enamored by that stupid little bitch that you didn't even spare me a second glance." My body was wracking with sobs, and I tried to pull away when I felt two arms wrap over my shoulders once again. The arms held me in place as I stood and cried with soft wails coming from deep in my throat. Eventually, I opened my eyes, but I just closed them again after seeing him staring me in the face with a sad smile on his lips.
"James, you don't know how confused and stupid I've been over the last four years." I really didn't understand what that meant until I felt a pair of soft lips touch to my own, making my heart flutter like it had every time he complemented my hair. I quickly pulled away and opened my eyes once again, staring at him in shock. I started trying to mouth words at him, but then decided I just had to get out of there. I pulled his arms off of me and walked to the door, his hand landing on my wrist as soon as my hand touched the doorknob.
"Please James, let me explain."
"You've done enough! I'm not just going to stand here and let you fucking toy with my emotions!" A look of hurt crossed his face, and he went back to the bed. He sat down next to the bedside table, opening a drawer in the front and pulling a group of pictures out. Although I was still angry, I became intrigued, so I walked over and looked down at the photos in his hands. They were from one of our high school's home football games from two years earlier. In one, Kendall was standing up one row of bleachers behind be, his arms around my neck, his chin resting on my left shoulder, and both of us smiling as if nothing was wrong. You couldn't even tell that I was tortured inside by my love of the boy who was holding me.
"That was one of the best nights of my life, James." I turned my head to look at him his eyes not leaving the pictures in his hands. "I really wish we could go back to those days sometimes, the ones where nothing was wrong between us and everything was fun."
"Kendall, there isn't anything wrong between us now either. You just never gave me a chance to give you my love." He sighed.
"Well here I am giving you one now and you're rejecting it." He stood up as he spoke, raising a hand to run it through my messy hair. "Please James, I'm giving you a chance, so you need to give me one too." I thought for a second, looking deep into his eyes. I was getting just what I had wanted since I was 14, why wasn't I just taking it? I smirked and looked down, wrapping my arms around his waist.
"Well, I guess that you're right as always, Kenny," I admitted with a soft chuckle, bringing my lips down to his, falling backward onto the bed when he leaned his body forward into my embrace. I kept him hugged tight to my body, turning us so that we had our heads at the top of the bed. Continuing to hold his body close to mine, I stared into his eyes, the bright green orbs once again shining happily. I smiled down at him, seeing him return the gesture and run his hand through my hair once more. I pulled my head back and swatted his hand away.
"Stop that, you're gonna make it even worse." He laughed softly and moved his hand back toward my brown locks.
"I'm just thinking of how I haven't really complemented your hair lately. And I don't know what you're talking about, it looks amazing as always." He resumed petting my head, and this time I just let him. It was a gesture to show that he cared, and I was so happy that he was finally showing that.
We laid there for twenty more minutes without a word, the silence ending when he yawned loudly. "I think it may be time for bed," I whispered to him, earning a soft laugh in response, feeling him turning in my arms.
"I think it is. Goodnight James."
"I love you."
"Love you too." I smirked.
"Boyfriend?" He didn't reply for a few seconds.
"Sure, boyfriend." I had been waiting to use that word for four years.
"Wonderful."
A/N: So? How do you like my first Kames? Although it's a one-shot, I'd have to say that it was one of my favorite things to write so far. For some reason I have so much fun with one-shots, it's almost ridiculous how much I enjoy them. Maybe long plots aren't my forte.
Anyways, about that Olympian and Dreamscape update I "promised"… heheheh, yeeeeaaaaah, no. I'm really sorry guys, I had almost no time to write this week after typing this up. My week was Marching Band, Hairspray audition practice, ear piercing care, going to see the Fall Drama at school (twas Frankenstein, twas the best drama my school has ever done), and an obligation every Tuesday and Thursday that I prefer to keep secret.
Well, I really hope you like it, please please please review (I don't get many reviews on one-shots so I don't know what people think of them), and do enjoy your weekend. I'll try to do more writing this weekend, but Hairspray auditions are Tuesday and callbacks are Wednesday. And I still have more Marching Band. I wish my life wasn't so uncomplicated but still complicated. But yeah. See you all later!