I came up with Better a little under a year ago. It was half inspired by 'Better' by Regina Spektor, different plot in her story but same concept. But mostly it stemmed from the thing that happened nearly a year ago. As of 1/20 actually, it's been exactly a year since my dad passed away, not of whatever you might imagine Mr. Knight passing from (i.e. car carsh, fall down stairs etc) but the same situation. A lot of the ideas that occur in this story happened to me in some way shape or form. The best inspiration comes from what you know, and I do know this. I always found it weird that Kendall wasn't my favorite character (which is James btw),maybe because his eyebrows were so massive or maybe I saw so much of my situation and who I am, in him. Or the idea of him. I knew that this (death) was most likely the fate of his father. Idk, BTR saved me, I might not have smiled again but for those boys. I found it so hard to write Better, because, all this time I didn't really know what feelings to feel. I did, tonight, and I finished. I will miss my dad more than I can say, but I will get better.

Disclaimer: I do not own BTR or Regina Spektor's song 'Better'.

Better

If one asked a complete stranger to watch Kendall Knight play hockey, they'd say he was amazing, and (from what little they might know of hockey) should go pro. If one asked Kendall's friends and family, they'd agree, but say that Kendall's devotion only grew after his father's passing. Not many people would assume such travesty hit the Knight family; Kendall was headstrong and determined, never showing an ounce of weakness to a stranger, or even a friend. Katie was sharp and sly fooling anyone with her big brown puppy eyes. Jennifer Knight was wise and generous, helping others before herself. They didn't lie; they just didn't always show everything.

Kendall had three best friends; they were the best friends any 9 (nearly 10!) year old could ask for. It seemed right and wrong that they were playing hockey when it happened. They were laughing, oblivious to everything but the game and the fun they were having. It wasn't until Mrs. Knight rushed out the door with three year old Katie in her arms and a look of fear. She told Kendall to grab a jacket and get in the car; his friends turned to him confused and scared. He shrugged like to say it was nothing, but of course he didn't know what the 'nothing' was. By the time the Knights were in the car and Kendall's friends were sent home, Kendall was informed of what happened. It was not 'nothing'.

Kendall did not want the last memories of his dad to be like they were, with Mr. Knight being on life support, his body bashed and bruised, more unconscious then conscious. He didn't want to remember Katie's confused cries, or his mom's tired eyes and strained voice, or the coldness of his father's hands. Kendall would hear so many sounds, the scuffing of feet, the passing of papers, a chair screeching, cries, breaths, whispered words of comfort. Kendall would see so many things, the bright lights above his head, nurses and doctors walking in and out, solemn faces, tears, a still body. Kendall would try to say something, to his mom, Katie, even to his father, but he couldn't… didn't know what to say. A lot of things happened all at once, before Kendall could even do anything about it, Logan, Carlos and James ran into the small room, followed quickly by the Mitchells, Gracias and Brooke Diamond. They surrounded Kendall in a big tight hug, as if to cloak him from all the bad. That was when he heard it, like in every bad hospital drama he'd been forced to see by Logan, the beep that was never ending.

It would get better. That's what people said. They weren't wrong necessarily. But it wasn't the same, the Knights weren't the same. Kendall had become the man of the family in mere hours. He watched over both his mother and sister, he convinced himself to be everything the family needed. His emotions were raw and angry, so he poured the rage into hockey. His friends were there for him, every step of the way, he wasn't wrong when he said they were the best friends a 9 year old could have. James never left his side, repaying him for when Kendall stuck by James when the brunet's parents had their awful divorce. Logan took it upon himself to constantly ask Kendall how he was, if he needed anything, trying everything in his power to understand what Kendall was going through. Trying to emphasize.

Carlos was different though, Carlos didn't have experiences similar to Kendall, or big books all on psycho-something. He was just Carlos. And Kendall wasn't Kendall. Carlos just wanted to see a smile, one of sly 'I've got a plan' smiles or a 'happy to see you' smile, or 'why are you jumping on my bed' smile. But he couldn't get one. Never ever, not even a smidge, not on that day. Really, Carlos should not expect to get one on that day, but still Carlos likes his friends happy, he's happy when his friends are.

So each year, his friends would be there for him, in their own unique ways, and Kendall appreciated it. More than he could really say. And things did prove to get better, pangs of old memories stayed pangs, he became superbly skilled in hockey and he'd helped his friend James' dream of pop-stardom come true. He friends were happy, he was happy and it seemed leaving some of those painful memories behind in Minnesota healed those wounds.

It wasn't until Gustavo refused to let him visit home that he began to snap, his sister and mother were already in Minnesota visiting family to organize a small service. Gustavo had promised to let him join them, but Gustavo's promises were rebuffed by Griffin's orders. Kendall felt lost, if anything his father was that connection to Minnesota that he clung to, he had to see him. He grew quiet and reserved as the day passed into the next day, he apologized to his mother who offered to give both Griffin and Gustavo a firm talking to, Kendall only gave a sad sort of laugh and declined on her offer. Logan and James seemed to be whispering to each other, ignoring Kendall outright. A pit of despair grew in Kendall, and he hid himself from everyone.

It was the day before the service. Kendall listened to music from dawn to dusk the days previous. The lyrics mocked him, dictating their lives of both happiness and tragedy, what did they know of either? What did anyone? He planned to ignore everyone forever if they were content on ignoring him in his time of need.

But people can be surprising perceptive of such things. Carlos didn't bother to knock; he waltzed in with his happy smile and shiny black helmet. He slid onto Kendall's bed, not listening to Kendall's complaints to "get the hell off". Carlos snuggled up against the blond, wrapping his arms around him warm and tight. Carlos wanted Kendall to smile, more than anything he wanted Kendall to smile for him and something he'd done.

They talked mostly. It was kind of nice, now that Kendall thought about it, Carlos and him they don't really talk; they just do. The thing that Carlos had been missing, the empathy, it was finally there in their conversations and Kendall saw it.

Carlos said something that surprised him, "If I kiss you where it's sore, will you feel better?" Kendall looked alarmed, but mostly confused and somewhat amused. He thought he must've nodded his head, because Carlos leaned in slightly and kissed Kendall lightly on the lips; just a trace of him left on Kendall. Carlos smiled and handed something to Kendall. He left the room before Kendall could even look down to see what Carlos gave to him.

He cried. But a smile graced his lips. One ticket to Minneapolis, Minnesota at 5:35 tonight.

This story isn't an outlet for reviewers to say pity words, I know that's difficult at times, but try to understand I wrote this more for myself than anything. I'm glad to show you it. And the future stories that are coming soon. Hope this brings about some empathy for those who are blessed to not have to experience this. If I can give any advice to any of you, appreciate what you have before it's gone.

Thank you for reading,

Shadow.