So! This is a new story I may or may not continue. I guess it depends if people actually like it or not. This idea had been in my head for months, but I never got around to starting it, not to mention I have my stupid mocks all this week! GRR! SOOOO, seeing as there was already a story up with an idea similar to this one (Pretty Logan. I recommend reading it!) I went and asked for permission from hellfirehalo188 just to see if she was ok with it. Therefore, this story is now dedicated to her!
So this story was slightly inspired by Taylor Swift's song 'Enchanted', my favourite song on her new album and I felt it really suited this story. So, naturally this story will have romance in it, and drama, and angst, because I virtually live on that! And possibly some crime-drama type thing. That's the reson for James and Carlos's career choice. Some of you may consider it OOC, but I can totally pictue James wearing a pair of aviators and holding up a gun saying 'Keep your hands where I can see em!' Sorry, a little off topic . . . that's all if I continue, however.
Disclaimer: I would love to own Kendall or James. Sadly I don't. And I don't own Logan or Carlos. However, I do own Faye, Summer, Matt and Sean. And Eric; I know he's only mentioned in this story, but if I continue he'll be more important later on.
James shared an apartment with three people; his older sister Faye, Faye's best friend Summer, and James's best friend Carlos. They'd all been so eager to get out and find their own place that they'd just bought one together. They were all like family to each other anyway. For the Diamonds, Carlos and Summer had always been around. They spent more time in James's home than their own. Now they were all adult, technically. They still acted pretty immature.
James and Carlos both had the same job; they worked with the Police Department. Well, Carlos did. James worked with the Crime Lab. Everyone had said that it definitely wasn't the kind of job that they expected him to go for, but he'd taken a four-year college course and was great at his job, even if he was still a rookie. When he was a kid he'd always talked about becoming a star. This dream still shimmered a little in the back of his mind, but he loved his current job. Although autopsies could get a little disgusting. Summer worked there too, and Faye was a lawyer. So, there they were. Four young adults with jobs in law, all living together. What fun.
Neither James nor Summer were working that day. Both of them called to see their families. The day flew by; his days off usually did. As he got into his car and drove away from his parent's place, he got a call from Faye.
"Hey, James. Are you still in town?"
"I guess so. Why?"
"I just got home, and I realised that we have no food! Zilch! Zip! Would you mind running to one of those all-night grocery stores on the way home?"
James sighed. "Yeah, alright. I'll be home in an hour or so."
After hanging up, James looked at his watch. 11:30? Wow. Time really did fly when you were having fun. And I did have fun, James thought as he drove into central LA. James had always loved his parents like crazy, and it was because of his dad that he'd chosen to work with the cops. His dad had worked as a detective. He didn't anymore, because after an accident about a year ago, he'd ended up with bad hearing problems. They claimed he wasn't suited to the job anymore. Though he'd loved his job, he didn't seem to mind much. James's mother, on the other hand, still worked as a teacher in a middle school, not far from where James lived. She was quiet and delicate, unlike his father, who was loud and generally energetic.
James's thoughts drifted away from his family as he pulled into a car park, before getting out, crossing the street and walking around the corner. He dodged between tourists, shoppers and gamblers as he passed a large casino hotel. Prostitute paradise.
He hurried towards the all-night store, rushing in. He wanted to get home. He didn't want to leave his car alone in that parking lot any longer than he had to. Once he'd paid, he left the store and walked back down the street, bag in hand. Now he was just desperate to get back to the apartment. As he passed the hotel again, he saw two guys emerged from one of the doors, a few meters ahead him, and stop. They were looking around like they were waiting for something. He would've been able to tell from a mile away who they were. Or what they were. Whatever. James had seen how his friends and family reacted when people like this were around. They'd turn away, or roll their eyes and talk about how terrible it was to basically sell your body to all these random strangers as a way of living. James normally agreed with them, but this time he didn't roll his eyes, or look away. He just stared.
James had seen hookers before. This was Los Angeles, for crying out loud! There were dozens of them around. A lot of girls, a lot of guys. The girls were all the same to him; plastered makeup and skirts or shorts that barely covered their asses. Not to mention the postage stamps they called tops. And their giggling almost drove him into orbit!
There were plenty of guys too. Guys with booty shorts and high heels and faces adorned with glossy lipstick. Then the hookers who tried to look like guys rather than girls, with their skin tight jeans and their equally tight T-shirts, and their glittery faces and arms. So they wore a little makeup; it wasn't hard to spot that all these people had fake beauty and probably no real substance underneath. Maybe that was the real reason most people disapproved of them.
This one was different. There were no glitter, no makeup that he could see. No high heels. Just a pair of blue laced vans and long legs clad in tight black jeans that clung to everything. The first few buttons of his shirt were open, revealing the pale skin of his chest. James could see a tattoo on his collarbone, though he couldn't tell what it was from where he was standing. All this was alluring, but his face was the part that really sent James's heart racing. Maybe it was because he wasn't trying to be picture perfect like the others he'd seen before. He was sure anyone else would change their hair to match their eyebrows, or the other way around. His hair was a dark blonde colour; it reminded him a little of honey. His long bangs fell over his large, bright eyes, and his full lips formed a combination of a pout and a frown as he looked around the crowded street.
He was talking to his companion at the same time; a smaller boy with short brown hair. When he smiled, James saw a dimple in his left cheek. Could he get any more perfect? James just stood and stared for another minute, desperately trying to think of an excuse to go and talk to the gorgeous blonde. In the end, he settled for one of the best/worst ideas he could think of. He walked right up to the two boys. "Hey, I was wondering if—"
"Well, aren't you a pretty boy?" The brunette inquired with a smirk. "You wanna play with us? I hope you got cash on you cos—"
"Actually, we're done for the night," the beautiful blonde cut in. "You're gonna have to ask somebody else."
James could see the tattoo better now. It was a rose. A black rose. The smaller guy had the same tattoo on his arm. "Actually, I just wanted to know where the nearest bus station is," he said, flashing a charming smile.
The blonde smiled back. James could see his eyes were a deep green. They sparkled when he smiled. "Just keep walking down that way until you come to the next left turn. It's right around the corner; you can't miss it."
"Ok. Thanks." He flashed another smile before walking away. One he turned to the left, he crossed the street and headed towards the parking lot where his car was. All the way home, he couldn't get the wondrous image of a hooker out of his head. Or the same two lines over and over.
Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you.
Kendall turned to Logan with a sigh. "Right. How much did you get tonight?"
Logan flashed a grin. "I found some lonely businessman at the bar and he paid $500 just to fuck me. The things these people will do for a release is unbelievable. What about you?"
Kendall flashed a grin. "I didn't get as much as you, but I have $400 for a blowjob and a striptease. I think that's pretty good. Sean's gonna be happy." At least, I hope so.
Logan smirked. "Oh, please. When it comes to you, he's always happy."
"If I cooperate," Kendall murmured. "What is taking Matt so long?" he wondered aloud. "He's taking forever."
As if on cue, they heard a voice calling them. "Hey! Sorry I'm late; what'd I miss?"
"Us, waiting for you," Logan replied. "Come on; let's go home. I'm exhausted."
The three guys went down to the hotel parking lot, getting into their car. Logan started it and quickly exited the parking lot.
"I am the king of prostitution!" Matt gloated from the backseat. "I got $700 altogether!"
Logan rolled his eyes. "The day you're the king of these parts is the day Kendall gets hit by a bus. You know any of our customers would shag him over us any day." He cast a quick sideways glance at Kendall. "What's your secret? Is it the long legs they love, or is it just your great personality?"
Kendall didn't bother dignifying that with an answer. He didn't know why anybody would prefer him. Logan and Matt always acted much more enthusiastic about this job. Matt pushed a strand of chestnut coloured hair out of his eyes as he laughed a little. "I guess I can't argue with that."
"Does that mean you're gonna send a crazed bus driver after me?" Kendall asked light-heartedly.
"Speaking of buses, what did you think of that pretty boy who asked us for directions?" Logan asked as he steered into the housing estate where they lived, in the quieter area of LA. "He looked like he knew where he was going. I had serious doubts about his intentions . . ."
Kendall tuned him out, watching as they passed the rows of small two-storey houses before finally reaching their own. Logan stopped at the end of the driveway; there was already a car parked in front of them. They hopped out of the car and walked up to the front door. Logan was fumbling in his pocket for the key. Matt got impatient and just rang the doorbell. A tall guy with dark hair and smouldering eyes answered the door. Sean. The pimp. He greeted them with a grin before stepping aside to let them in. "Well, how much?" he asked.
"$700," Matt replied the same time that Logan said "$500," and Kendall said "$400."
Sean grinned as they handed it over. "Nice job. I'll give you your cut in the morning before I go out, alright?" The three nodded and began walking down the hallway. Then Sean's hand darted out and grabbed Kendall by the back of his jeans, keeping him there. Kendall turned to Sean with a despairing sigh. "What?"
"What's up with you?" Sean demanded. "You're not getting me half as much cash as you used to."
"Sorry," Kendall replied. "It's just been quiet around there lately. I haven't been lucky. I'll do better tomorrow; I promise."
"You'd better," Sean said in a threatening voice. Then he sighed. "I'm sorry. I guess I've been a bit of a prick to you lately—"
"Lately?" Kendall looked at him with raised eyebrows. He didn't have to say anything else. He was saying everything he had to with his eyes. Remembering every, single, detail. He could tell Sean was too. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I wanna make it up to you. Take next Friday off, ok? You can go out with friends or something . . ."
Yeah right. You're probably gonna have someone follow me to make sure I'm not with any other guys. I know what you're like. But Kendall just smiled. "Thank you. I'm gonna go to bed now; I'm kinda tired."
"Ok." Sean kissed Kendall softly—not harshly or roughly like he usually did—and disappeared into the kitchen. Kendall sighed and went down the hallway to his room. Actually it was his, Logan's, Matt's and Eric's room. He sat on his bed, lying back and shutting his eyes. He was so close to just falling asleep in his clothes. He was met with a pillow in the face.
"Ow!" He sat up, glaring at Matt. "Dude, why?"
"What'd Sean say to you?" Matt asked almost desperately.
"I have next Friday off." Kendall unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. "$700 is a lot of cash, Matt. I doubt the other guys beat you; you'll probably get Friday off too."
"One can only hope."
OK: important question: do you want this story to be continued? If you do, I definitely will, cos I have many ideas for it! So, reviews . . .?