Bandana Man is the greatest idea I've ever come up with. He works in very mysterious ways- he's a hero. But really, honestly, he's just a super great cover.

See, Bandana Man gives me an excuse to wrap myself almost completely in bandanas- no skin showing. So nobody has to see the skin underneath.

Wristdanas? What are those? Just a trend I started. I thought if people thought they were cool, I could get away with wearing them. Worked like a charm- nobody questions it. I can cover ¾ of my forearm without any suspicion whatsoever. I must be a genius.

Or maybe I'm completely stupid. Who knows? Either way, Bandana Man hides the hurt, and nobody's any wiser.

"James?" called Kendall, stepping into the apartment. I didn't answer, and held very very still. I was hoping that if he didn't know I was there, then he didn't have to know what I was doing- and that I wouldn't have to explain why I was bleeding all over the bathroom sink and holding a razor blade in my hand.

For a few moments there was complete silence, but then I figured Kendall must have decided I wasn't there. I heard him walking towards the bedroom we shared, entering, and then finally closing the door. I breathed a sigh of relief and resumed bandaging my cuts.

I opened the medicine cabinet to get the gauze out (I liked to wrap my wounds very securely, thanks. Leaks of blood on my clothes would not look good) when a pile of assorted mouthwashes, toothpastes, and other hygenic products came tumbling out.

"Shit!" I yelled, the curse slipping out before I could restrain it. I threw my hands up over my head as the supplies fell, crashing onto the floor.

"James?" called Kendall from across the apartment. "That you, man?" I answered, my voice much higher than usual from stress. "Yeah, Kendall! I'm fine! Just gotta clean up the... um.. mess! I kinda spilled some stuff outta the medicine cabinet, no worries!"

I heard the doorknob jiggling. "Dude, why's the door locked?" he asked, moving the knob more fiercely. "Oh, I always lock it. Old habit!" I called, lying through my teeth.

"Well, let me in! I wanna see how bad the mess is!" he sounded impatient. "No, seriously! It's almost cleaned up, I got it! Just go sit down or something!"

There was a moment's silence before he agreed. I breathed a sigh of relief, extracting the gauze from the pile of products and setting it aside. I quickly replaced everything on the shelves, not bothering to put it all back where it actually belonged. I quickly ripped off a length of medical tape, wrapping it around the still-bleeding wound, and carefully securing it. I guess it got too quiet for Kendall's comfort, because I heard him call out again.

"You okay?" he asked, sounding more worried. I called back a quick "Yeah!" and tied the bandanas around my wrists. For good measure, I quickly took a swig of mouthwash and swished it around my mouth, spitting it into the sink. I filled a cup of water and pretended to gargle while I scrubbed the drips of blood off the white porcelain.

When I was finally finished, I exited the bathroom. Kendall took one look at me and his eyes grew wide as his jaw dropped.

"James! Jesus christ, what happened?" he asked, eyes locked on my stomach. My heart dropped as I followed his line of sight and saw blood. A lot of blood.

Shit, I remembered. I had pressed my arm against my once-white (now reddish, thanks to my cut) t-shirt as I was cleaning. Which meant that I now looked like a stab-wound victim.

"Oh, that," I said, desperately scrabbling for an excuse. "I um.. when the stuff fell. I got hurt. But it's okay now." I could tell my face was panicked by the look in his eyes. Suddenly, I could see it dawn on his face. Emotions flashed through his eyes- fear, confusion, sadness, lonliness, wonder, awe, and more fear.

"...James?" he asked timidly, sounding 10 years old again, his first day of ice skating, about to get on the rink, terrified of falling. I looked back at him, a huge (fake) grin plastered on.

"It's okay now. I'm not.. it didn't hurt that bad," I said, referring to the fake injuries. Kendall reached out and gently gripped my upper arm.

"James," he said, this time with more conviction. His hand slid down my arm, and I just knew. I could feel the panic mounting as his hand drew nearer and nearer to the top of the bandana. His fingers brushed the material and I jumped back as though electrified.

"Jesus, Kendall! What are you doing?" I asked, injecting shock into my voice as I purposely widened my eyes. He stepped towards me again, looking fierce and upset.

"James, please. Just... if it's not what I'm scared of, you can beat the crap out of me. But if it is..." he trailed off, looking uncertain. I took a deep breath and prepared to act my heart out.

I let my eyes widen even further as realization of his implications 'dawned' on me. "JESUS, KENDALL! Why the fuck would you even think that? I mean, why would I even do that!" I felt my volume increase as the fake anger built and built within me, until suddenly it wasn't so fake anymore.

Now Kendall was mad too. He stepped forward, dangerous, eyes narrowed. "You fucking tell me, James Diamond! You tell me why I keep opening the medicine cabinet to find less and less gauze, or why I've found drops of blood on the floor! I tried to write it off as nothing, I wanted it to be nothing! I told myself everybody was fine! And if it had to be somebody, I thought for sure it would be Logan, not you! You're supposed to be so fucking happy! So why aren't you?" Kendall was crying by now, advancing slowly towards me, reaching out, needing to see that I was okay. I wasn't ready to let him in, so I screamed back.

"How do you know you're not just fucking imagining things, huh? How do you know the blood's not from a shaving accident? How do you know there's less medical tape?" I was on a roll, screaming and backing up, moving until I felt the wall behind me. I was cornered then, and Kendall was still moving forward, still afraid of what he would find if he got too close.

"I don't know, James, and that's why I'm scared," he said, sounding small and sad and terrified for his best friend. "Please, just show me that I'm wrong."

I paused for a long moment, looking him up and down. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, reaching across my body and untying the wristdana on one side. I heard him suck in his breath at the sight of the gauze as I reached across and untied the other side.

"James.." Kendall said, tears in his eyes. He gently reached over and touched the gauze, looking up at me. "Can I...?" I nodded, answering his unspoken question. Kendall tenderly untied the white tape, letting it fall to the ground as my injuries revealed themselves. I felt him take my hand, lifting the palm up, and gently holding it in the air. I closed my eyes in shame, knowing what I had done was sick and demented.

I felt a light pressure dance across the scarred skin. I opened my eyes to find Kendall gently brushing over it with his fingers, crying as he tenderly traced the line of each and every scar. "James..."

I couldn't look at him. I knew he would think I was disgusting, twisted, wrong. I pulled my hand back, moving to tye the wristdana back on.

"Don't..." he said, reaching over to stop me. "Don't cover them," he finally said, looking straight into my eyes. "I wanna see them. I wanna count them so I know how many there are. I wanna count them again tomorrow and the next day and the next day until they're all gone, and I never want the number to get any higher."

I stood, shocked, as he pulled the bandana away from my wrist, freeing the scars again. He flipped my hand over and traced the first line. "One," he breathed, looking so incredibly sad that it shattered my heart. "Two," he continued, tears rising in his eyes. "Three."

I don't know how long we stood there, him crying and counting and I just standing and trying not to break, before he finally got to the very last line, the one from today. I hissed and drew back in pain as his finger passed down it. "Twenty-seven."

I couldn't speak. There was something large blocking my throat and I couldn't swallow it down. Kendall was still holding my hand and he gave it a light squeeze. "Tomorrow, when I check..." he broke off, his voice failing him for a moment. He used his left hand to brush away his tears. "When I check, will there still be twenty-seven?" he asked, his voice husky from trying not to cry.

I took a shaky breath before answering. "I.. I don't know," I said, honestly. His eyes darkened a bit as he looked at me. He bit his lip.

"Well," he said after a moment, "I do know. There will be exactly twenty-seven scars tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. They're gonna go away. It'll take time... but they'll go away. I'll make sure."

I went to speak, but he shushed me. "I'm gonna make it better, James, I promise," he said, tearing up again. "I'm gonna kiss it all better." He didn't meet my eyes when he said this, instead moving his hand straight down to mine and lifting it, palm up, to his face.

"One," he counted, gently pressing his lips to the first scar. "Two," he continued. I didn't know how to react.

"Twelve." I closed my eyes. "Fifteen." I sighed, melancholy. "Nineteen." I stopped him, gently tipping his chin up to look at me.

"One," I whispered, leaning in before I could think about it too much and gently pressing my lips to his. He stood, frozen, for a moment, before slowly moving his lips back against mine.

"Wow," he said when we finally broke apart. "What do we... I mean.. well, what now?" Kendall gently looked up at me, eyes questioning.

"I'm gonna get better if you help me," I said, biting my lip and looking down. "Will you?" He gently tipped my chin back. "Of course I'll help you. Every day. I'm gonna try and save you every single day."

I smiled a little, still sad, but very comforted at the thought of having Kendall save me. After all, who needs Bandana Man when you have someone like Kendall Knight protecting you?

"I love you," I whispered to him. "I just.. you need to know." He smiled back at me. "I love you too, James. Always have." I looked up at him, hopeful. "I'm gonna be here for you," he said. "Forever."