Author's Note: I really hope you enjoy it because it was kind of hard to write; the ideas came to me, but *spoiler* I had to research the disease Logan had to try to logically do things in his head. The things we'll do to write a good story. Anyway, I tried a different writing style for this one because it's a little more complex than LiM ever was. They're both main characters, not just Logan. If it's normal writing, it's Logan's perspective (or something/someone to do with Logan), if it's underlined, its Kendall's perspective (or something/someone to do with Kendall). And also, if you loved lesbian, awesome Jo in the last one, than you'll hate mega bitch, straight Jo. Sorry. Oh, and sorry if some of the views come off extreme, but it's kind of an extremes story. Hope you stick with it cause I think it's gonna be good. Then again, what am I worried about, you guys are awesome. Luv ya. XoXo
Logan Mitchell knew his parents loved him, they just had more important things to do than spend time with their son. It never really bothered him either; he was a bright child and immediately, he understood how important their work was. He was a doctor; she a lawyer. They were doing the right thing, helping people, so it didn't bother him that much that they weren't around. And he would have never said anything. That would be rude.
Logan knew he was safe with his babysitter, Gina, even if she never really paid that much attention to him. She had more important things to take care, like friends and socializing which he knew was important. He liked to watch her put on make-up or straighten her hair when she'd go out on a date after her babysitting job, but if she told Logan to go away, of course he would follow her command. She was a superior and her orders were to be followed, not just heard. And he would have never said anything. That would be rude.
When students wouldn't talk to him or would make fun of him, it never truly bothered him. He was effeminate; he was small and he knew they were right. Who would want to willingly be friends with the nerdy, gay kid who was also anti-social? They knew what they were doing and were climbing the social ladder absolutely correctly, while he obviously was not. And he would have never said anything. That would be rude.
When he came out to his parents that he was gay in the summer of the ninth grade and they sent him to Gay Reparative camp to emerge straight again, like god intended, he knew they were right. One was a doctor and the other was a lawyer; they were the smartest people around, so of course they were right. Logan knew that being gay was a sin and that was the root to all his problems. They knew what they were doing and were doing what was right by him like all parents should. Logan felt bad for the kids whose parents accepted who they were without question or challenge. They could never succeed cause they had no order or hierarchy; they did not know how to adapt to what life was. And he would have never said anything. That would be rude.
So one morning when he was at camp and was being harassed by a councilor to stop putting his hands on his hips like a woman, he had decided to listen, but something in the back of his head said not too. Something said to rebel because this was wrong. Any true intellectual would have asked questions and seeked truth; yet again, Logan had failed to be the best he could be. That was the first time his fragile personality split. It started after he excused himself to the restroom for whatever reason he created to appease his councilor. He needed a moment to himself urgently. Looking in the mirror, he realized that maybe what he did in life was wrong; blindly following orders without questioning them had gotten him nowhere. An abusive baby-sitter, neglecting parents, and a hostile situation at High School; those were the only things that came of his life.
And in a bout of anger, he shouted at himself, "You're pathetic. Worth Nothing. Every single person was right about you so why won't you just go away."
The next minute, his fist was profusely bleeding from glass cutting into it. Logan had punched out a mirror in the bathroom. He ran out of the bathroom and was confronted by a camp guide who saw him 'whining like a sissy boy' because his fist hurt. So with the glass still buried in his fist, he punched her in the cheek, cutting straight across her face like claws. She passed out from the smell of blood and wasn't found for a few more hours after things really went down. Yelling and screaming through the camp as he flailed his bloody hand, something inside of him broke; well a few things. His Spirit. His Will. His Heart. His Sanity. For in that one instant of rebellion, Logan Mitchell had split his personality and mind into a million different shards of glass. Running into the kitchen and grabbing a large butcher knife, Logan went and stepped up onto the middle of a picnic table with the blade to his throat. One voice in his head screamed at him to kill himself. Another said to kill everyone else. Another farther back was pleading with him to calm down and put the knife down; they would make it together, but Logan no longer wanted to make it. He wanted sweet relief that only death could bring him anymore, but the question was, who exactly had to die. He wasn't really threatening anyone, but himself, yet people were on their knees crying and screaming, pleading with the councilors to give up and call the cops. No one wanted to see a fifteen year old boy kill himself in front of a large group of other teenagers. It'd be bad press for the camp; still, the head councilo, who was also the main preacher at the church that helped fund the camp, refused to give up; he had an entirely different idea on how to get rid of the situation without a scene. That's when a tall, beefier blond kid showed up at the picnic table scene; his hair was a beautiful shade of dirty blonde, almost brown and had eyebrows that stuck out like a rose in a sunflower patch. He was unique and gorgeous, with a quirky smile that caught Logan's attention immediately.
"Come any closer and I swear I'll do it," Logan shouted angrily at the blonde, not willing to give up yet. Someone had to die, it was the only way to repair the damage that was his life, "Please, Please, don't come closer, I don't want to die." "Shut up" he shouted into the air, "This is why you are here in the first place. You're a spineless, good for nothing shit. Do it so everyone can just move on." Logan burst into tears when he heard that one and started to loosely swing the knife past his knees; everyone immediately backed up, but the smirking blonde.
"Hey, cutey," the blonde started, coming up slowly to grab the knife, the smile still spread across his face, "If I received a nickel for every time I saw something beautiful, I'd have five cents about now wouldn't I."
Logan blushed and smiled when he heard that, still swinging the knife while the boy approached; it gave him this weird feeling to see someone like him saying it to someone as worthless as himself. "Stop," he heard again in a gruff tone, "do it now before he stops you. This is your chance pussy, finish the mess everyone in your life's already started." Logan started to draw the knife back up when the boy took another step closer.
"Hold a minute, I'm not done with you yet either," the blonde said, still seemingly angelic with swooped hair and a smirk that could win anyone over. "There are about twenty angels in this world, you know; 11 are playing, 8 are sleeping and I think I see one right in front of me." Logan blushed and looked away when the voice came back.
"NO, no, what the hell is taking so long, he's lying, no one loves you, he just wants you to let him do it himself."
"Don't listen to him," the blonde boy said, climbing up onto the steps of the table to grasp Logan's hand, "Do you have a map, because I keep getting lost in those chocolaty eyes of yours."
*blush* another hand goes over the swinging knife.
"I hope you know CPR, cause you take my breath away."
*smile* and the knife is handed to someone on the side of the blonde boy.
"While we've been standing here, I've been wondering, do your lips taste as good as they look."
*blush deeper* and Logan's hands meet the Blonde boys to come down from the table while sirens could be heard in the distance. Logan started to look for them when the teen with the eyebrows started again.
"I must be a snowflake because I've fallen for you."
They both stepped off the table together while the blonde boy put his arm around the smaller one's hips to draw him closer, still smirking and keeping up with the lines.
"You know, I always thought diamonds were pretty, but I must not have looked into your eyes."
Logan leaned onto the blonde boy's chest as the camp watched in wonderment and the EMS truck showed up, sirens flashing. The dark haired boy started to get distressed when the Blonde pulled him in tight and distracted him again.
"The only thing your eyes haven't told me is your name, beautiful," he hugged the smaller boy closer, they're faces only a foot apart.
"Do you really want to know," Logan responded, somehow shutting up all the other voices.
"Actually, I do," the blonde said, squeezing him tight back into the embrace when the ambulance started to run out with a cart looking for injured people.
"Logan, Logan Mitchell," the small boy piped when the rescuers brought up the injured councilor, but the blonde had to keep him distracted.
"Yeah, I'm Kendall, Kendall Knight, apparently the luckiest guy in the world after meeting you," he said it as caringly as possible to keep the brown eyed boy from paying attention to the shouting in the truck. "But in a minute, they're gonna take you to go fix that hand up and get you all back to normal."
"You're leaving me?" Logan said in a panic, the voices starting to grow louder.
"Of course not; I'll be next to you when you wake up after being taking care of. I swear." This made the boy, Logan, blush a crimson red that actually looked like it hurt, but Kendall had to keep him busy not to freak out.
"Hey, I got a bunch of skittles in my mouth; wanna taste the rainbow," he said it, leaning into the petite boys forehead and giving him a light kiss.
Logan giggled, not exactly understanding why this boy he'd just met was being so nice, or flirty for that matter, but it didn't matter. It felt really good, "Actually, I love skittles," purred out Logan, who reached for the blonde boy, Kendall's, face and pulling it to his own for a kiss.
At first, the blonde tried to resist, but when they're lips collided, he couldn't, instead getting deeper into it to the point of tasting the smaller teens lips. And then the dark haired teen past out in his arms. The Emergency workers behind Logan pulled the needle out of his arm and grabbed the boy from Kendall.
"Good job son, that was nice acting," the big one with a mustache said to Kendall, "And tell your father that this won't get out. But Officer Johnson over here will need to take statements, so wait here; and don't feel bad about kissing the boy, you're a hero. You did a disgusting act and violated yourself to save people. That's Jesus working in you boy." Kendall smiled as they pulled the Ambulance truck away and the police car stayed, but something still felt off to Kendall. Yeah, he'd done it to save the camp at first, but this time was different. He'd seen other camp leaders and kids do the same thing to some nut case here, but it never was that easy. Inevitably, someone would always get hurt; it was just part of the camp, obviously god's way of warning against choosing the gay lifestyle. Knowing you were outlawed form heaven would drive anyone crazy, Kendall thought, but everything felt strange right now.
His long time girlfriend, Jo, ran out to hug him and give him a kiss for doing so well to protect the kids. He was a true camp hero, so when he squeezed her ass, she didn't get upset this time. Kendall knew he could do anything at this moment because he was a savior. But, something felt off. Something felt different in him, like a click happened. Kendall was straight and he knew it; he loved tits; he loved cars; he loved football; he loved Jesus. He was a full, red blooded American, but every time he kissed a girl, he'd never felt anything more than just a need for sex. Anything would do really, he was so hot-and-heavy sometimes. But it wasn't like that when the petite boy had kissed him; there was hunger and need and not only did he feel it, but it was coming off of him. Yet that wasn't right; loving another man was against nature and god and he knew that better than anyone. He was the preacher's son for god's sake and he'd seen how homos ended up. Still, the kiss was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. And that was the first day that Kendall Knight, Preacher's son and Red blooded American, started to question his sexuality.