A/N: Here's chapter 2. I'm having major writer's block for this story because I'm waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too focused on my other story…sorry.
Chapter 2:
James didn't mean to become so distant from his friends. It just kind of happened. Well, he had fallen for his best friend Kendall, and he needed some time alone to organize his thoughts and feelings.
So when the boys asked him questions about what his problem was and why he was acting that way, he would brush them off or ignore them. But when they kept at it, he would get meaner, and say something like "Mind your own damn business!" He was secluding into himself more and more, and he was contemplating running away every day. He just needed to get away from it all…
NO! He yelled inside his head. Stop thinking like that. You just…need to space yourself from Kendall…keep your space…
Now, here he sat by the pool, looking solemnly at the pavement beneath his feet while trying not to cry. Today was the day that his idol, his very own mother, would have turned 42. He was trying not to break down, for the very own sake of his friends, but he couldn't help it when he saw her picture on his phone. He got up hastily, running as fast as he could to the apartment where he could hide himself. He slammed the door shut and stormed into his and Kendall's shared room where he collapsed on his bed and just broke. Right then and there he started sobbing, shaking the bed violently. It seemed as if no one was home today for the fact that no one seemed to hear his desperate sobs echoing throughout the room. After he calmed down a bit, he walked over to the bathroom and locked himself inside.
His hair was tangled, and it was also a little dull, but it wasn't very noticeable. His eyes were rimmed red and dark, signaling his recent crying and lack of sleep. His skin stayed that glowing caramel color, with the exception of his wrists, which held his deepest, darkest secret. There on his wrists laid light lines, criss-crossing and parallel to one another. These lines were old scares of what James called therapy. Some were recent, but most of the lines that littered his flesh were fading, leaving him more room for his relief. If you haven't figured it out by now, James cut himself as an outlet for all his pain.
When it all became too much, such as today, James would take the blade (Which he stole from Buddha Bob's tool kit) and lightly brush it against his skin as to not leave a cut. Then he would repeat that, only this time pressing harder, creating a line of blood from a fresh cut. The pain from this was an outlet for his other pain, psychological and mental pain, which he couldn't handle. The cutting was his therapy. Without it, he would surely be dead by now. Why? Well, the pretty boy tended to bottle up all his emotions, and this was the only way to let them out without him exploding. This was the only way to get through it all.
The blade was already in his hand, moving towards his wrist at a fast pace. It was sliding across his once untouched skin of his forearm, creating a line of blood that flowed into the sink. The first cut was quickly followed by a second and a third, before James dropped the blade into the sink and washed it off. He then bandaged his wrist and put his wrist-dana on and checked the room and himself. The floor was clean, no blood. Same with the sink. Same with him. The blade was hidden well in his floss container before he walked back into his room.
His stomach growled as soon as he sat down, though, so he sighed and get up again to head into the kitchen. It was there he saw the calendar, with the date and words screaming at him, that he collapsed onto the ground again, sobbing into his hands as he curled onto his side. He quickly felt warm arms wrap around his shaking figure, pulling him into their lap and stroking his hair. He could vaguely see through his tears a woman with red-brown hair and bright green eyes crying herself as she held him. James threw his arms around her, and together they cried on the floor of the kitchen.
After James sobs had subsided, Mrs. Knight brought him into the living room and sat him on the couch while she walked into the kitchen. She walked out with some hot cocoa in hand and gave a cup to James as she sat down beside him with her own cup.
"Let's watch a movie…get your mind off of things, ok?" she asked, shooting James a sad smile.
James only nodded, looking ahead at the TV with solemn eyes. At least Mrs. Knight was there for him and that she remembered. Otherwise James would be locked in his room the whole day, not talking to anyone. He took a sip of his hot cocoa, which was rich and warm, and smiled as he leaned into his second mother's warm side. Mrs. Knight smiled at the gesture and wrapped an arm around him as they continued to watch the movie together.
Kendall, on the other hand, knew what day it was perfectly. He had seen James' emotionless face. But he had thought that meant James just wanted to be by himself. That's how he was when it was his dead father's birthday. He just wanted to be left alone. So Kendall had given James his space and done his own thing, when James truly needed the comfort from his friend. But Kendall stayed away for that exact reason.
And, you know, for the small fact that Kendall liked James, and tended to be very impulsive.
A/N: A little bit of Kendall POV there. Small chapter, I know, but it's all that wanted to come out of my brain. Hopefully I'll find inspiration for this again…but, please tell me any ideas! I could really use some right now.
So…REVIEWS and IDEAS please!
