So this isn't a "real" chapter, but something for you guys to read while I finish 'perfecting' the second chapter.

So, originally, Kendall was going to be the upfront one.

But you know, we need more Logan as the not quite dominant one but the leader.

So this is an outtake. Think of it as a misprint. Or the first take. :)


"I don't know about this, James," I say as we walk up the stairs to the city's art museum, tonight holding the largest annual art gala in the area.

"Sure you do, buddy. Maybe this will be the place to meet the future spouse, you know, since the last one thought you were too different to be married anymore. Or maybe she was boinking her co-worker right under your nose. Which is also unusually large, so that might be the case." He flashes a smile to the doorman as we walk inside.

"Tonight is definitely not the night to be talking about Jo, who happens to be my ex wife," I say through gritted teeth.

"Whatever you say, bro. But I, for one, will enjoy myself tonight. You can do whatever the hell you normally do, but you should remember how you're in public. now, and not alone in your house. " He's looking at his reflection in a platter cover, checking his teeth and straightening his bowtie.

This might be the perfect time to hit him. Or maybe just run.

I don't belong here. I don't belong with these people, these people who've been to every event this museum has ever thrown. I won't end up like these same people, throwing on the same evening dress or the same tie every Friday night until they physically can't get up off their ass to do so.

Formal wear is the absolute worst, though.

But James, he's the star. He'll outshine any single one of these people any day.

But not me. I'm just the poor sidekick.

"Yeah," my voice is hoarse. "I'll be fine hanging here by myself." Although you're not even gone, I am missing you to death.

He breaks from his reflection to furrow his eyebrows at me, confusion marked all over his face. "Kendall, if you want to leave, that's fine."

My eyes are beginning to fill with tears but I shake them away, clearing my throat. "No, I am good. I want you to have fun."

"You sure?"

I nod, biting my lip. "Yeah, yeah it is." But not really.

He smiles empathetically, patting my shoulder. "You're a great friend, I hope you know that!" His eyes are on mine until they slightly flicker away, focusing on someone in the distance.

"Ooh," he murmurs, leaning up on his tip toes. "It looks like some lucky lady needs James to help in their time of need." He pats my shoulder before speed walking to his next victim.

I shake my head, smiling to myself. James and his ways will always make me laugh.

I'm walking around the event later that night, watching the number of people begin to dwindle around me. I have no idea where James is, but I'm sure he's enjoying himself. And probably his conquest, too.

There's still some people around, walking around, seeing the paintings and sculptures they wanted to see earlier in the night but never walked by again.

There's one painting I've walked by a few times throughout the course of the night, a simple silhouette of a couple overlooking the sunset. It reminded me of happier times, but every time I looked at it, I shook it off like it was nothing.

But maybe, just maybe, this time is different.

Probably not.

I'm caught daydreaming when a voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" A man.

My eyes slowly rotate around to my left, where he's standing. He's looking at me for reassurance and I nod halfheartedly. "It is." My voice is a little too dry.

The man, who's in a simple gray suit, adjusts his tie, the blue silk running through his long fingers. And suddenly I'm wondering what those fingers would feel like on my body, crawling and stroking along my back and belly, making me moan and push my crotch up to his face in raw excitement.

I quickly bring my hand up to my face to cough out my blush.

It's not like he's bad looking. He's actually fairly attractive. Short brown hair and creamy chocolate eyes with a small build.

But really, Kendall? Day dreaming about a total stranger? How low can you get?

"Are you okay, sir?" His voice squeaks on the last syllable, making him return the blush. Yep. Totally cute.

And I'm feeling frisky. And I'm completely insane. And I might die. But I don't care.

"What's your name?"

His eyes bulge and he stutters out a quick, "Logan".

"And I'm Kendall. Come on, let's go." I turn and grab his hand, heading for the nearest closet.

"W-wait, where are you taking me?"

"To get you laid."

"But why?"

I'm opening the door as he says this, and I'm pushing him inside before I respond to his question. "Why? Because I felt you checking me out. You're not too bad yourself, either." I creep inside, barely latching the door before I take a step closer to him.

"How do you know I want this? That was fairly rude of you to just assum-" he's glaring at me.

I laugh. "Really?"

"Yes. For all you know, I could be in my fifties."

I roll my eyes. "You're hot for a grandpa."

His face heats up and soon he's mumbling and sweating up a storm. "N-no, that was me hypothetically speaking," he says, grasping the cufflinks of his dress shirt.

"Close enough," I say, pushing him up along the vacant wall.

I can't hear his response after that, because my lips are on his in a second and my hand's are stumbling around near his pants.

After that, everything is a blur.