Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking: Another story? Truth is, I had this one written for so long, I just decided to post it.
I need to do a little explaining before you read ;) First, Kendall's dad is pretty freaking famous, his name is Brennan Knight (my BFF Wynter-Solstice has a huge crush on our Bio teacher, and his name is Brennan, so I decided to use it to tease her lol) and he's like a single version of The Wanted. Like, he's a singer, and all his songs are going to be The Wanted songs. And ya, I don't flipping own the song used. And Kendall's bilingual (French & English), and Canadian, and his best friend is his mom :) Aww...
Anyway, I really hope you like this as much as I do :D
Broken Dreams
You don't wait for your dreams to happen. You MAKE them happen." - Kendall Schmidt.
Kendall wakes up, momentarily wincing at the harsh sunlight streaming in through his windows. For a moment he wonders where he is, then he remembers.
Minnesota.
He groans. He's moved from Canada just a week ago, and he already hates Minnesota. Being Canadian, he speaks both French and English fluently, but he prefers French. And that is another thing he hates about Minnesota. He has to speak English all the time. Ugh.
He throws the covers off his body and stretches. He is exhausted, and today being the first day he started at his new school doesn't help at all. He puts on his glasses and pads out of his bedroom, and seeing his mother in the kitchen, he plops down on the stool by the counter.
'Bonjour mama,' he says, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
'Morning dear,' she responds kissing him on his forehead, then rushing back to finish breakfast. 'Why are you up so early? Can't wait to start your new school today?' She smiles at him and he groans again.
'Nooo. The blasted sun woke me up,' he mutters. 'What're you making?'
'Pancakes and eggs. What do you want?' She takes a plate out of the cupboard.
'Doesn't matter. Just get me something to eat,' he says, his stomach growling as he fought to stay awake.
After he eats breakfast, he goes to bathe and get ready. Drying himself, he throws open the cupboard door and sifts through his clothes. He isn't in Canada anymore, so he doesn't know what the hell to wear. He pulls out a green leather jacket, white jersey and blue jeans. It is simple, and the green brings out his eyes.
He stands in front of his mirror, staring. He knows that he isn't perfect, but he is happy with his body, he is happy just the way he is.
Yet, if there is one thing that Kendall hates about himself, though, it is his eyes. He detests the colour; he has inherited it from his father. The man who had deserted them, taking Katie with him. Kendall shudders, and his fists clench and for a moment he sees fire smouldering in the depths of his eyes. Memories rush back at him, faster than he expects.
Flashback
...
Fifteen year old Kendall walked slowly up the path to his house. His house was humongous, a result of his father rising to fame just a few months before.
The only thing odd about the house is the fact that smoke is curling from the chimney, into the slowly-darkening sky. Kendall frowns, but doesn't bother to waste time thinking about it. He'd just returned home from his music class, and he had his guitar strung on his back, as he opened the door to enter the mansion.
He loved music, but he'd always preferred art. His father had already planned out Kendall's future for him, and if that doesn't make Kendall mad, he doesn't know what did. His mother always stood up for him, but there were some things you just can't change.
He walked up to his room, with no sign of his parents or Katie. There was a smell of burning charcoal in the air, but Kendall just assumed that the cook was making barbeque. When he entered the room, a smile broke across his face. He can't help it. Always seeing his room put him in a somewhat cheerful mood. He'd designed it himself. The walls were painted black, with silver splashes across it, and amidst the silver, there were gold smileys.
Kendall placed his guitar down, next to his piano and violin, and walked over to the far end of the room where his table was.
If there was one thing he loved the most in the world (besides art), it was his table. His father had it custom-made for him for his twelfth birthday, and he loved it to death.
It was simple, a slab of wood resting on four pedestals, each one shaped differently. There were two music notes, a crotchet and a quaver, and a paintbrush, and one of those things that artists used to put paint in long ago.
There were secret compartments in each one, and that was what Kendall loved most about the table. It thrilled him whenever he found a new one. He doesn't know what was so special about the table, but he loved it.
When he reached over to the table, he sat in the chair, and pulls shifted through the papers that were stacked neatly on the side of his desk, looking for the folder with his drawings, the drawings that he'd collected since he was able to hold a pen.
There was no folder.
Kendall's body was rigid, he froze, his fingers became numb, and his throat dry. The scent that had been wafting through the house came back to him.
Burning charcoal.
Most of his drawings were done with a stick of charcoal. That is the best thing for shading and outlines. His heart pounded in his chest, and he felt cold as he ran down the stairs, two at a time.
When he reached the living room, in the fire, he could see his folder there, amongst the flames.
He choked, and the scream that came from him is deafening. He raced towards the fireplace. His hands were just inched away from the fire, when he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him.
He turned and found himself buried in his mother's hair. He began to cry, it is almost as if his soul is being burnt. Every feeling he had, every indescribably experience, every beautiful view is there, in the flames, all his hard work, over a thousand drawings and paintings.
All because his father wanted him to be a fucking musician, he had to destroy Kendall's dreams.
He could feel his mother shaking; he knew that she is crying too. His father is a dream destroyer.
Now all Kendall had is a broken dream.
...
End Flashback.
He hates his father. He hates everything that reminds him of his father.
His father had forced him to do music, when he obviously prefers art. He'd taken away Kendall's sketchpads, pencils, pastels, anything that had to do with art and burnt them, telling his son that he had to do music, just so that his musical 'reputation' wouldn't be spoiled by a son that loved art. His father had left him, broken his mother's heart, and he had stolen Katie from them.
Kendall looks down at his glasses on the night stand. He doesn't mind wearing them, but after what has happened, he doesn't want to see those eyes staring back at him ever again. He rummages through his drawer and pulls out the container that has his extra pair of contacts in it.
He carefully puts them on, and is satisfied. Now his eyes are hazel. Perfect.
Now he has nothing to remind him of that devil. He glances down at his hands; they are still trembling with rage. He stalks over to his desk and yanks open the top drawer, pulling out his sketchpad and a pencil. Sitting down, he begins to sketch, his usually light lines now thick and dark with fury.
Drawing is his way of getting out anger, and he can feel passion flowing through the pencil as he moves it back and forth on the page. His shoulders begin to relax and when he is done, he looks at what he has drawn.
It is his table, the one he'd loved.
But instead of reassuring him, it is just there, mocking him, mocking his life, mocking everything he is, mocking how his father had won and he has lost.
He grabs the paper and rips it up into shreds. There are times he loved his talent, other times, he detested it. He runs his shaky fingers through his hair, before getting up.
Pushing all thoughts out of his mind, he leaves the room, the pieces of paper still floating aimlessly on his desk.
...
'Now, Mr. Knight, here's your schedule. Do you want someone to show you around the school, or not?'
Kendall smiles at the woman. Her name tag reads 'Ms. Shirley-Ann Hunter'. 'I'll rather do that by myself, Ms. Hunter.'
She gives him a sweet smile. 'And welcome to this school.'
The smile never leaves his face as he walks out the office- and crashes into someone. Panic fills Kendall as papers and books fall to the ground.
'Oh mon Dieu, je suis tellement désolé! [1],' Kendall says rapidly, as fear races through him, and he is afraid that he's knocked down someone who might beat him up.
'Non non, ce n'est pas grave.' [2]
Kendall's head shoots up. In the flurry of emotion, he doesn't realize that he's spoken in French, and the shock that the boy actually understood him must have shown on his face, because he blushes, and, grabbing up his books, he hurries away.
Kendall smiles and shakes his head. That is the shyest person he's ever seen. He gathers up his papers and searches through them, looking for his timetable.
Instead of finding his timetable, though, he finds a bunch of papers clipped together, and the front page has 'The Real Meaning behind the Roman Revolution by Phillip Mitchell.'
He frowns then curses softly under his breath. He looks around for the boy, but he is nowhere to be seen.
Now Kendall doesn't know where to go, what subject he has first, what class he is in, he doesn't know anything.
Wait.
Kendall scans the sea of heads swarming around him and a guy caught his eye. Is that him? How could the dude have reached there without Kendall seeing him? Either way, it is worth a shot. He wades through the students, and, tapping the guy on the shoulder, he says, 'Hey, I think you have-'
The words die on his lips when he gets a good look at the guy's face. He looks exactly like the other one, but his eyes are a different shade.
He clears his throat, holding up the bunch of papers. 'Phillip Mitchell?'
'Phillip? That's my brother. '
'Oh. Well, I ran into him just now and I picked up his 'Roman Revolution' thingy instead.'
A smile breaks across the dude's face. 'He's right...' the guy tiptoes and searches through the crowd. 'He's right over there.' He cups his hands to his face. 'Phillip!'
A few seconds later, the same guy Kendall had knocked down appears next to them, face tinting a bright red when he sees Kendall.
'Hi,' Kendall says. 'I think this is yours.' He holds up the bunch of papers. 'Do you have my timetable?'
The boy – Phillip – searches through the papers he had in his hand before pulling out Kendall's timetable and giving it to him.
'Thanks.' Kendall hands him the papers.
'So what's your name? You look familiar, like I've seen you somewhere.' The other guy, Phillip's brother asks.
Kendall frowns. That is the reaction he got from most people, and it is because of his father. But it isn't Phillip's brother fault.
'You've probably never seen me before. I'm Kendall,' he says smiling at them.
'I'm Logan,' the guy says, 'and you met Phillip already. We're twins but we're like polar opposites.'
Kendall laughs. 'What do you mean?'
'We're totally opposite! He's nerdy, I'm a delinquent, he's straight, I'm gay, he speaks about a hundred different languages, I barely know English and some French, he wears khakis, I detest khakis, he's shy, I'm not...' he stops to take a breath and Kendall realizes Phillip looks like he is trying not to laugh.
Logan puts an arm around Phillip and pulls him closer. 'But no matter what, he's still my panda-boo,' he says, pinching Phillip's cheek as the boy turned scarlet for the fifteenth time that day.
'Logan!' he whispers fiercely as if the boy has just spilled the secrets of the universe.
But Logan just laughs, and Kendall can't help but amaze at how similar they looked. He would've loved to draw them, right there, Logan's arm around Phillip, both of them with a smile on their faces. Dark lines for the outline, but for some reason Logan's would be stronger because he stood out more.
If he drew them, Phillip would meld into the background, whereas Logan would stand out. Kendall's fingers itches for a canvas and pencils, but just then the bell rings.
'Let me see your timetable,' Logan says gesturing to Kendall's folder. Kendall pulls it out and handed it to him.
'Awesome!' he says as he scans the paper. 'We're in the same class most of the day! You have French first. Let's go.'
'Wait,' Kendall says. 'I need to find my locker.' He tells Logan the number, and he finds it with ease.
Then he follows Logan to the class.
...
'Um, hi. I'm Kendall Knight, I'm seventeen, I moved here from Canada, and I speak both French and English pretty well. Um...' Kendall looks over to the teacher who had said her name is Ms. Collins, before she'd told him to introduce himself to the class.
She smiles at him. 'Thank you, Kendall. You may take a seat.'
Kendall looks up and sees Logan beckoning him to a seat next to him. He walks to it and sits down.
'Why do you take French if you could speak French?' Logan asks him, leaning back in his chair.
Kendall raises an eyebrow. 'Why do you do English if you speak English?'
Logan smiles. 'Touché.'
Kendall snickers and is about to respond when the door bangs open.
'Late again, Mr. Diamond?' Ms. Collins says without looking up from whatever she is doing on her table.
'Sorry, miss. Got caught up in... business,' he says, and a few students snicker.
Logan leans over to Kendall. 'That probably means he is making out with some random girl in his car.' He nods towards the boy. 'That's James Diamond. The school whore. Breaks hearts for a living.'
Logan continues speaking, but Kendall barely hears him. He is staring at the boy. He is beautiful. He can't stop staring at his angular facial structure, the curve of his neck, how his hair curled at the edges, how his hazel eyes... are staring at him angrily.
Kendall blinks out of his catatonic state as the boy strides over to him and stands in front of his desk.
'Why are you in my seat?' he growls.
Kendall frowns. The boy can't be seriously talking to him.
What did Logan say his name is? That's James Diamond. The school whore. Breaks hearts for a living. With looks like that, Kendall doesn't doubt that for one second.
'Excuse me?' Kendall says. He gets up, looking down at the seat, then watches the boy, matching his glare perfectly. 'Sorry. I don't see your name on the chair anywhere. And if it's not there, then it's obviously not your seat, now is it?'
James' eyes narrows so that strips of hazel are showing. 'Listen here-'
He is interrupted by Ms. Collins. 'Excuse me boys, is there a problem?' She comes up behind James.
Kendall stares at James a while longer, trying to figure out how someone so beautiful could act so bitchy. He's barely been in the school for two hours and he's already made an enemy...who ishot.
James glares at him, throat working before he turns to Ms. Collins. 'No worries, Ms. Collins. I can get another seat.'
He glances back at Kendall, who shoots him a sweet smile and wiggles his fingers towards him, as if to say, 'I win.'
Kendall has a feeling that by the intense look of hatred James sends towards him, a fight would have broken out there, if Ms. Collins isn't in their presence. Not that he minds. He hates people who tries to force him to do anything.
'Then find a seat quickly. Class is about to start.' Ms Collins says before returning to her desk.
Kendall sits back down and James walks to a seat on the other side of the class.
'Dude,' Logan says, 'what was that all about?'
Kendall shrugs. 'I hate people who try to push me around.'
Logan is going to respond when Ms Collins stands up and begins class. Kendall pulls out his new notebook and stares at the blank page.
His little face-off with James has left him with more bottled-up emotions than he expected, and he needs to find a way of getting rid of them.
His fingers itch to draw, something, anything. He pulls out a pencil and begins to sketch; not really knowing what would be the result.
It is always the same when he is mad. He never knows what he is gonna draw. He just drew, lines appearing on the page, shading and colouring, as Ms. Collins teaches the future tense in French, but he knows all of that already, so he ignores her.
He isn't aware that he is finished, but as soon as the pencil left the page, the book is snatched up by a gaping Logan. His mouth hangs open, and his eyes are wide. 'This is so freaking epic!'
Kendall rolls his eyes, but can't help but feel proud. At least someoneappreciates my talent.
'Do you take Art here? You should! This is so freaking cool!' Logan gushes as a wave of remorse rises up in Kendall.
He swallows it and frowns. 'No. I can't do Art for finals here because I doesn't do it in my last school. I did music.' He bites his lip to prevent himself from elaboration. I was forcedto do music.
Logan frowns, but doesn't press further. 'But... why did you draw James?'
'What?!' Kendall freaks, snatching up the book from Logan's hands. It is a picture of James.
It is beautiful, as beautiful a black and white sketch could be, but it isn't perfect. He didn't get the shape of his face quite right, or the hair. As an artist, he knows that his drawings can't be perfect.
But James is perfect. The thought enters his mind and he quickly pushes it away. What is that supposed to mean? He did not like that spoiled brat whore, and he never will.
He closes the book and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. He looks up and sees the smug bastard smirking at him, and it is almost as if he knows what Kendall is thinking. Kendall looks away quickly.
'Mr. Knight?' Ms. Collins calls out and he looks up, grateful for the distraction. 'Can you translate this for us please?' She points at the board.
He frowns. Is she mocking him? Without hesitation, he translates it easily and perfectly, and Ms. Collins looks impressed. It is obvious that when he'd says that he speaks French, she didn't believe him, or at least thought that he couldn't speak it well.
'Très bien,' she says and Kendall looks over involuntarily at James who is staring at him in... Wonder? Amusement? Hatred? His face is unreadable, yet Kendall has to keep creating one phrase over and over in his head.
James Diamond is NOT hot.
...
'So that group over there is called 'Team Bitches' as I like to call them,' Logan says gesturing over to a table with a group people. It is time for lunch and the tables are being filled pretty quickly. Kendall glances over to the group and isn't surprised to see James there, and even less surprising, he is making out with a dude.
'The one he's making out with is Dak, the other's Jett, and blondie next to James is his on-and-off girlfriend Jo,' Logan states and Kendall frowns.
'What about the other one? The Latino guy who looks like he's drunk?'
To Kendall's surprise, Logan blushes. Phillip speaks up. 'That's Carlos. Logan's got a crush on him.'
Kendall looks over at Logan who is currently staring at the Latino dreamily.
'Logan!' he says, snapping his fingers in front of the boy's face. The boy snaps out of his dreamy state and looks over at Kendall, blushing.
'Sorry, he's just so hot,' Logan says, 'And besides, Kendall, it's not as if you don't do a bit of ogling yourself.'
Now it is Kendall's turn to blush. 'I do not 'ogle' at James!'
Logan laughs. 'That's funny, cause I never says that you ogle at James, you just told me that you did.'
Kendall groans as Logan continues. 'And besides you drew him in French. You doesn't throw it away, did you? Cuz you have to show Phillip! It's really cool.'
'Thanks,' Kendall says, and they sit there in silence for a while, eating, before Kendall decides to break the quiet.
'Tell me about James. Is he always like that?'
Logan raises an eyebrow and shares a look with Phillip, before turning back to a confused Kendall. 'James isn't always bitchy. He is kind of quiet, but he loved music. Everyone could see it, the passion he had, when he sang, it is like angels had kissed his voice.'
Phillip coughs, and it sounds as if he is trying to cover up his laughter. Logan frowns at him and continues. 'We were really close once, but one day, he just became mega-bitchy. I tried to talk to him about it, but he just brushed me off, saying that he is just going through some things in his life, and he'd be nicer soon.' Logan bites his lip and glances at Phillip who gives him a subtle shake of the head.
He sighs, and Kendall has the feeling that there is something that he isn't telling him. 'But he never got back nicer. He had changed completely. He even stopped singing period.'
Kendall frowns. So there is something that has changed James, and suddenly felt a fierce rush of emotions toward the brunet.
'He used to have an idol, also. People would make fun of him, but he doesn't care, he used to sing his songs wherever he went, and he is obsessed with him.'
Kendall leaned forward. 'Who is that?'
'Brennan Knight.'
Time slows around Kendall as a lump formed in the back of his throat. James Diamond's idol is Kendall's father.
Logan frowns, thinking that Kendall's silence means that the boy doesn't know who Brennan Knight is.
'Do you know who Brennan Knight is? I mean, you should. Because you...' Logan's voice trails off as realization suddenly dawns upon him. 'You look like him. You do.' His voice is layered with wonder and admiration.
Kendall frowns and looks away. He fights back tears that threatened to come. He doesn't even know why he wants to cry. He is frustrated with everything, frustrated with his father, frustrated with James.
So many people loves his father, but all they know is The Brennan Knight. They don't know the real person behind all those songs and smiles. They don't know the father that has crushed Kendall's dreams continuously, played with Mrs. Knight's emotions by constantly bringing different women home every night. They don't know the person that Kendall knows, and hates.
He forces a smile onto his face. 'I know,' he says, and his voice crackes a little, and suddenly he wishes, not for the first time, he looks like his mother instead.
Logan peers at him some more. 'Wait. You're his son?'
Kendall wants the earth to swallow him whole. He knew that the interview his father had forced him to do was going to destroy his life somehow. Now people know him as 'Brennan Knight's son'. It is as if he isn't Kendall Knight anymore.
Besides, what is the point of lying to Logan and Phillip? They are probably the only friends that Kendall would make in the school anyways.
So, he turns back and forces a nod. Enthusiasm built up in Logan, Kendall can see it in his eyes.
'Please don't tell anyone,' he whispers softly, and whilst Phillip nods, Logan frowns.
'Why not? Brennan Knight is so awesome, man. I love him!'
And there goes another soul.
Another soul devoted to evil itself, Brennan Knight. Kendall shakes his head and a few tears almost escape. Muttering 'I need to go to the bathroom,' he grabs up his stuff and leaves the table.
It is stupid, he thinks. Stupid and idiotic of him to judge others for loving someone they don't know.
He rubs his eyes, then, when the world went blurry in his right eye, he groans. He's forgotten about his contacts completely. He walks in to the bathroom.
...
Kendall blinks a few times after he takes out his contacts, and then groans again. He's forgotten the solution to clean them. And if he puts them back on, they'll itch. He throws them into the dustbin and pulls out his glasses from his pocket. He always has them there just in case of an emergency. Keeping his eyes away from the mirror, he washes his hands and walks out the room... and knocks into someone.
Not again.
Kendall groans inwardly, but secretly hopes that it is Phillip again, and not anyone he doesn't know. He doesn't know if he could stand some bitch yelling at him right now.
All hopes are dashed when he hears the person swearing fluently, and as he looks up, his heart sinks.
It is James.
He is holding a slushi, which is half-empty... and the other half is plastered all over his white shirt.
Fuck.
James looks at him, his eyes shooting daggers of hatred toward Kendall before he stomps off to the bathroom. Kendall frowns. He doesn't know what he expected, but it certainly isn't that.
He shrugs it off, and is about to walk away before guilt nags at him. He's ruined the guy's shirt. Maybe he should check up on him to make sure he isn't dying of hypothermia because of that ice slushi.
Kendall sighs and goes back to the bathroom. There he finds James with his shirt off; instead it is fisted in his hand. Kendall swallows, hard as he saw those hard washboard abs. He looks away.
'Um... hey,' he says softly.
James slams his fist against the tiles of the counter top. He stays that way for a while, head bent, before he looks up. 'What do you want?'
Kendall is taken aback by his harsh tone. 'Um... I just wanted to say that I'm sorry...' His voice trails off.
'Now you've says you're sorry. What do you want now?'
Kendall frowns. He's just apologized to him, and the guy is still being a dickhead? 'What's your problem? I came to help you. Can't you stop being an asshat for one second?'
'Asshat?' James snorts. 'Well, Sherlock, what do you have in mind? So I wouldn't have to walk around the school half-naked?'
Kendall raises an eyebrow. 'I thought you liked being naked.'
James folds his arms. 'I like being naked when the person in the same room is ready to fuck me.'
'So I guess this is a change for you, huh?' Kendall says, looking everywhere but at James' biceps which are hugely distracting.
His eyes narrows. 'What's that supposed to mean?'
'It means that I'm probably the first person who isn't falling all over you. Why are you here, anyways? Shouldn't you be fucking that guy you were making out with?'
James stares at him. 'I'm here because some idiot knocked into me and not only ruined my shirt, but is apparently planning to leave me half-naked for the rest of the day.'
Kendall leans against the wall, noting that James doesn't answer the second question. 'I never said I isn't planning to leave you here. Why don't you go home and change?'
James dashes his shirt on the counter and sighs, running his hands through his hair. 'Can't. I have music next. It's the only class I actually do well in.'
'Well...' Kendall looks around, suddenly glad that no one else is in the bathroom. 'Um... Do you want to exchange shirts? I have a white jersey on under this jacket... and I could wear yours?'
James laughs. He tosses the shirt over to Kendall. 'Have fun jacking off on it tonight.'
Kendal growls as he catches it. 'You are fucking unbelievable.'
He takes off his glasses then unzips his jacket and pulls off his shirt. He has a toned body, but he isn't as fit as James. He looks up to find James staring at him.
'You... You look just like...' Kendall raises an eyebrow as James stares at him in wonder, not at his body, but at his contacts-free, glasses-free face. James whips out his phone and begins typing furiously. A few seconds later he is holding up his phone by Kendall's face, his mouth open in astonishment.
From the corner of his eye, Kendall could see that it is a picture of him and his dad, when he had some interview.
'You're Brennan Knight's son!' James exclaims. There is amazement in his voice, and Kendall can hear Logan's voice in his head. He used to have an idol, also. People would make fun of him, but he doesn't care, he used to sing his songs wherever he went, and he is obsessed with him.
'Amazing what you can find out in a few minutes with technology nowadays, huh?' Kendall says, and moves away from James and pulls the guy's shirt over his head. The material is freezing against his skin, but he guesses that's what he gets for trying to be nice to a dickwad.
James puts away his phone. 'So, um... where's your dad?'
Kendall shrugs his jacket it on. 'I don't know. Maybe fucking some poor chick. Or continuously pretending he's the best person ever. Either way, I don't want to know and I don't care.' He zips up the jacket. 'Put on the shirt quickly. Bell is going to ring just now.'
James frowns, before a smile spread across his face. 'Can I fuck you?'
Kendall is caught completely off-guard. 'What?'
'That way I can tell everyone I fucked Brennan Knight's son!' James grins at him, and Kendall feels tears prick at the back of his eyes.
He is finally having a normal conversation with the brunet, and now the jackass has to go and pull this. What did he think Kendall is? A cheap skank?
Rage fills Kendall and he slaps James across the cheek, his insides feeling as cold as the shirt he has on. James staggers back, a hand against his cheek as Kendall whirls and stomps out the bathroom.
Fucking Diamond.
...
Kendall enters the music room a little cautiously. He had almost died when he'd seen that he had Music next. Knowing that James would be here, he keeps his head facing the ground. Logan had said that he had most of the classes with him today, but Music is the only class he didn't have with Kendall.
'Welcome Mr. Knight.' A voice echoes through the room, and he looks up to see a man with round glasses looking at him. 'Have a seat.'
Kendall immediately walks over to a seat in the far end of the classroom.
'Okay, so today we're doing something totally new. You'll be choosing a song from this bag, and you're gonna sing it for us. I chose songs from singers that you told me you knew. Singers like Demi Lovato, Selena Gomez, Justin Bieber, One Direction and Brennan Knight. There are a few others as well. The song you pick, the words are going to be shown on the screen at the back of the class, and I'll provide the music. This is going to be done at least once a week, so your vocal chords would get accustomed to singing a lot.'
Kendall groans and sinks down in his seat. He just knows he is going to get one by his father.
'Kendall?' His head shoots up. 'You're first.' He gets up and slowly walks over to the bag. He rummages around in the bag before pulling out a slip of paper, and when he pulls it out, his heart drops to his toes.
'Lose My Mind' by Brennan Knight.
Kendall frowns, as he shows the teacher his slip of paper. He smiles. 'Ah. And I've heard from the principal that Brennan Knight's your father, no? Now go make him proud.'
Kendall gets that feeling again, that feeling where he just wants to cry, and rip up his father into pieces. He doesn't have to be doing this; he could be in Art class painting pictures of fruit bowls.
He stands on the stage at the front of the classroom, pushing his glasses up his nose, as he squints at the words in the back of class. He doesn't need it really; he has spent enough time around his father to know the words to all his songs.
The music begins and Kendall sings.
...
James sits there, in a pool of self-hatred. The boy is already so nice to him, and he just continuously bitches him out.
He looks at the blond as he stood on the stage. Somehow, he seems out of place, like he doesn't belong there. But when the blond begins to sing, James is melting.
They say that time
Heals everything
But they don't know you
And the scars you bring
'Cos you left a jagged hole
And I can't stand it anymore
If heartache is a physical pain
I could face it I could face it
But you're hurting me
From inside of my head
I can't take it I can't take it
I'm gonna lose my mind
I'm gonna lose my mind
Though the blond isn't looking at him, James has the feeling those words are directed at him. James is the only one so far who is a total asshole to the blond. But yet it seems as if he is also directing it at someone else. But who?
I'd erase my thoughts
If only I knew how
Fill my head with white noise
If it would drown you out
Kill the sound
If heartache is a physical pain
I could face it I could face it
But you're hurting me
From inside of my head
I can't take it I can't take it
I'm gonna lose my mind
I'm gonna lose my mind
Kendall keeps his eyes trained on the screen. He is directing these words to the two major assholes in his life, his father, and James.
And I'd rather be crazy
I'd rather go insane
Than having you stalk
My every thought
Then having you here inside my heart
Why is Kendall affecting him like this? James feels tears prick at the back of his eyes. Why is he such a dick to the blond? Does he have a real reason? He did. He has the most sensible reason, and it isn't because Kendall is Brennan Knight's son. James bites his lip and tears his eyes away from Kendall's form, letting the music wash over him. If only he could change his entire life, he'd be so much nicer to the blonde. But he can't. He just can't.
If heartache is a physical pain
I could face it I could face it
But you're hurting me
From inside of my head
I can't take it I can't take it
I'm gonna lose my mind
I'm gonna lose my mind
Kendall's voice echoes throughout the room. His classmates are staring at him with wonder, and he likes to think that he is using the words and the music to paint a picture. Because, for Kendall, everything is about art.
James feels horrible and sick. Kendall meets his eyes whilst he is singing the chorus and all James wants to do is run to him and tell him everything, the reason behind his bitchiness, the reason he is like this. He wants to hold Kendall in his arms and hear the blonde tell him that it would be alright, even though he knows it wouldn't be.
The music dies off, and the room is dead silent, and you can hear a pin drop. Then, the clapping starts, before it grows to a full on applause. Hooting and whistles echoes through the room.
'Very good. You took after your father, I see.'
But that seems like the worst thing for the teacher to tell Kendall. James can see something break in Kendall, his shoulders slump slightly, and his face dropps.
Kendall fights the urge to cry. He just wants to run out of the room and kill his father for ruining his life.
He will be forever known as Brennan Knight's son.
...
'I hate my life,' Kendall groans as he flips through the channels on the television. After Music class, he survived the last class by avoiding James, and concentrating fully on whatever the hell the teacher is saying.
'Why would you say that?' Kendall's mother says, coming over and sitting next to him.
Kendall sighs. 'I want to do art, mom! Today in Music class, I had to sing in front of the class, and all the teacher could tell me is that I took after my father! I hate him so much right now. He's ruining my life!'
'Kendall, I love you, and I respect your decision to become an artist, but you have to be rational. Is there much money in that? Maybe becoming a musician is the better choice, and you could always be an artist on the side. But the amazing thing about being a teenager is that you don't have to make that choice now. Wait a little, see if you make your friends realize that you're more than just a celebrity's son, and always reach for your dreams. Join an art club, do something that would help you, so that if you need any references later, you'll have it. Okay, darling,' she says, rubbing his back.
Kendall smiles. 'Thanks mom.'
Ms. Knight gets up from the chair and brings over a thin booklet that is on the counter. 'Now, on to more fun stuff. Here's the list of paints and their colours from the hardware. I know you'll want to decorate your room, so take your time and choose the colours.'
'Thanks mom!' Kendall says again, jumping up and hugging her. 'You're the best.'
Kendall sits back down, and, the TV long forgotten, his thoughts whirl as he sees the different colours, already forming a pattern in his head. Totally immersed in the book, he jumps about half a mile in the air when he hears his mother speak again.
'I forgot to tell you, Kendall,' she says, a smile on her face. 'I got the job at the branch of my old business here.'
Kendall smiles happily. 'What position did you get?'
'CEO,' she says grinning. Kendall's eyes bugs, and he flies over to his mother, grabbing her in a large hug.
'Congrats mom!' He says, feeling proud of her.
He bites his lip before he remembered something he wants to ask her. 'Mom, how many empty rooms are there upstairs?'
She frowns. 'There are two, and I'm using one as a guest room, and I'm not sure what the other one's for yet.'
'Can I get it? If I could have an Art room, where I could just paint all the time...' he trails off, hope igniting in his eyes.
She nods, smiling at him. 'Of course you can, baby.'
Kendall kisses her on the cheek, thanking her, because, to him, she is the best thing in the world.
...
Kendall tosses in his bed, unable to sleep. His mind is haunted with his father, and to some extent, beautiful hazel eyes.
He groans and gets up, looking at the time. It is two in the morning. He can't fucking sleep and he is tired. He used to have insomnia when he is younger, and now it is coming back with full force.
He sighs and sits by his desk, and drawing pictures until the morning came.
[1] Oh mon Dieu, je suis tellement désolé! – Oh my God, I am so sorry!
[2] Non non, ce n'est pas grave – No, no, it's okay
This is the longest chapter I've ever written :P Did you like it? Please tell me what you think. And yep, James has a big secret, but it's gonna be revealed in the next chapter ^.^
Love, Chelzixx