There's fresh pure white snow outside. It's snowing and it's cold so Logan can see his breath in the air. The snowflakes are coming down like fallen angels. Taking a trip back home for a week and a half after the tour, Logan decided to take a cleansing walk. He's wearing a puffy hoodie that smells like aftershave and polo cologne. He's only been home for three days but he hates it already. As soon as he got home his mom didn't smile at him. She didn't give him a big hug like Carlos's mom did. The first time she hugged him was when James's mom came to get him back to run the company. She only did it to keep up appearances she said. To make people think she loved her son. But she never thought he was good enough. Even with him getting straight A's and becoming a superstar that had billions of fans that adore him. As he walks his face is streaked with residue of tears, cheeks rosy red in depression and anger. His mom was supposed to love him tenderly and sweetly like Mama Knight loved Kendall and Katie. His small frame is swallowed by one of his cousin's hoodies and he looks fragile like he could be easily broken. The sleeves are long and the hem goes down to his thighs but it's comfortable and warm. There are profound purple bags under his eyes and he has a deep slash on his forehead from the frying pan his mother threw at him when he said his grades were fine, just 'fine'. It's red and oozing blood because Logan didn't have the strength to clean it. It sticks out like a crack in the porcelain and Logan wants to heal it so it doesn't get an infection but he feels intensely weak like the only thing he can do is walk. His cheeks are hollow from not eating over the past two and a half days because he's stayed he was frightened to go face the wrath of Mother Dragon (as Logan called her in his head). His face has a yellow hue and a gray sheen of sweat is on covers it. He's sleepy from not sleeping either but he's scared that if he sleeps he'll have another nightmare filled with a Mother Dragon, grass green and colossal swiping at his body with talons sharp as a knife. His heart feels shallow and stabbed and is pounding in his ears like an out of rhythm drum.

He's completely silent with secrets untold and a swelling heart. He cards his fingers through his hair and pulls a little roughly, face deadly serious as he ponders on what he did to make his mom hate him so. Because that's what he truly believes. He believes that he did something wrong, that it was his fault. The wind is rushing and the snow comes down harder on his hood, like a heartbeat resonating in his ears. Outside is just as quiet, heavy, and cold as his house. Logan wants an Advil or a Tylenol 'cause his head is thumping and hammering like crazy. His skin itches inside and out and his eyes get blurry with fresh tears. He feels like he doesn't have a meaning like he doesn't have significance.