A/N: So I was able to find time to work on this chapter, so yay for no hiatus! (At least for this week!) :P This is a crucial chapter because a lot happens in this chapter. The rough draft of this chapter was actually written pretty early on, and for the most part has remained its integrity. I've made a few changes just for continuity purposes, but I'm happy with how it came out. And I hope you'll all be happy with it, as well!
The songs that inspired this chapter were:
"Speak Up" by Pop Etc (previously known as "Virgins" by The Morning Benders)
"Strangeland" by Keane
I really like both of these songs, because in many ways I feel like that sum up this relationship. They're both love songs that are bittersweet, which is exactly how Logan feels about the affair throughout this story.
I decided to title this chapter "Choices" because there's a line near the end of the chapter that I really like. It's about take responsibility for your actions and finding redemption. Anyway, I don't want to give away too much, so enjoy and please review!
I open my eyes to see Kendall still asleep. He's beautiful even without trying. In that instant, I don't think of him as just a lover—he's also indisputably my best friend. I bring a hand to his face, but retract my hand when he shifts. When his body calms again, I caress his temple. I brush a strand of his blonde locks out of his face. His long eyelashes dance with his steady breathing. His mouth slightly parts with his lower lip looking deliciously plump. The urge to kiss him overtakes me.
I lean in and lightly press my lips against his. Kendall's eyelids slowly open as he takes in the moment. He smiles and licks his lips.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," I apologize.
"Don't be sorry. That's a hell of a wake-up call," Kendall teases.
I find that I'm wearing a smile. Waking up with Kendall beside me is a dream come true; it doesn't get much better than this.
I rest my head on his chest and play with the strands of hair on his chest. Kendall grazes his fingers back and forth on my back. We lay silently, completely content in each other's company without having to utter a single word. That's the beauty of our friendship. We never needed to find ways to constantly entertaining ourselves; we were perfectly fine just being together.
"It's our last day off before we have to go back into the studio," I remind him.
"Don't remind me," Kendall groans. "How did you want to spend the day?"
"I was thinking we could go to the aquarium today. That's not too lame, is it?" I ask self-consciously.
"Of course not, silly boy," Kendall chuckles. "I'd go anywhere just as long as I'm with you," he says kissing the top of my head.
I grin from ear to ear again upon hearing this.
"Well, let me go get ready then," I announce before I give Kendall a quick peck.
This apparently isn't enough for him, because he pulls me back for a deeper and longer kiss. I feel his wet tongue brush mine. Our lips make a smacking noise when we pull our mouths off one another. I smile and kiss the tip of his nose.
I get dressed by throwing on the first clean clothes I see—a striped Henley and a pair of old faded jeans. I go into the bathroom and brush my teeth. My reflection is sporting a goofy grin. I can't suppress the smile though. I'm in love with Kendall. It's greater than I could have ever imagined. I splash cold water on my face to make sure I'm not dreaming, because having a dream guy like Kendall is heaven sent. The ice cold water shocks. Nope, definitely not a dream!
I return to our room with the same giddy smile plastered on my face. Kendall, who's still in my bed, returns my smile.
"What are you still doing in bed, lazy?" I tease.
I curl under the blanket with him and nuzzle up close. He plants a light kiss on my lips. But there's something hesitant about his kiss.
"What's wrong?" I probe.
"Nothing," he attempts to smile reassuringly. I narrow my eyes, because I'm not convinced. "Well… Jo just texted me. She wants to talk to me about something."
"What about?"
"Not sure."
His tone is low and his eyes drift. It's weird sharing Kendall with Jo. We just spent the night making love and now I'm supposed to hand him back to her. It only reminds me that he was never mine to begin with. Our affair is surviving on borrowed time—how long before it runs out? I'm not sure I can handle the emotional turbulence much more.
"Well, you should go to Jo," I tell him.
My voice comes out defeated—I didn't mean it to. I don't like playing the victim, because I don't want to make it any harder for Kendall. I can see that he's conflicted. But more importantly, I don't want him to see my pain.
"Are you sure? I won't go if you don't want me to," he declares.
I scoff at the irony. It's cute but naïve of him to think he has to ask for my permission, because the fact is, I don't have the authority to tell him otherwise even if my selfish heart wants to. He's not mine, I remind myself again.
"Of course I don't want you to, Kendall," I admit. "But unfortunately, I don't have a claim on you. As far as everyone's concerned, you're Jo's boyfriend, not mine."
"Well, as far as I'm concerned, I love you."
His words just make it harder to let him out of my grasp.
He kisses me, and this time there's no hesitation. It's our kiss. It's the kiss I know so well now.
We lay in bed a little longer. Kendall holds me until he has to go and meet Jo. I watch him dress and I study the beautiful lines of his body, for I don't know if it will be the last time I will see him this intimately.
He turns around and flashes me a small smile. He tells me goodbye and it takes all my willpower not to run over to him and pull him back into bed. I put on a false smile, even though Kendall knows me well enough that he would never buy a smile of such artifice, but I still wear the mask of the understanding lover, even if just for my own benefit. The truth is my heart shatters as soon as he closes the door.
I curl up to Kendall's pillow and hold it. I close my eyes and let my sense of smell take over. The scent of Kendall's skin permeates the room still. I take a deep inhale and let the euphoria wash over me. It's a poor and pathetic substitute, but it'll have to suffice, because the truth is… I miss him already.
I lay in my bed for a bit longer. I look up at our bedroom ceiling and study the imperfections; the small cracks that Buddha Bob had to spackle over, the patches of mismatch paint, the small cluster of cobwebs in the corner. I do this meaningless task to get my focus off of Kendall, but it only reminds me how lifeless I feel without him. I decide I have to get through a day, even if Kendall isn't me. I won't allow myself to become one of those co-dependent mopey couple.
So I exit the room and see Carlos sitting alone at the table eating what appears to be a bowl of cereal.
"'Sup, Logan," Carlos mumbles through his chewing.
"Morning, Carlos," I smile weakly at him.
"Cereal?" he offers holding up a box of Cap'N Crunch.
"Sure, why not," I shrug.
I go grab a bowl from the kitchen cabinet and a spoon. When I return to the table, Carlos is chugging down his bowl of milk and going for seconds. Didn't he sample every flavor of ice cream just last night? How does he have this large of an appetite?
"Hungry there, buddy?" I eye him.
"No, why do you say that?" he asks obliviously.
"No reason." I laugh lightly and drop the subject.
I pour some cereal then milk into my bowl and sit across from Carlos, who's chowing down on a giant spoonful of cereal.
"Where did your boy, Kendall, go?" Carlos asks.
"Huh? He's not my boy!" My voice peaks.
Carlos stops chewing and looks at me with worried eyes.
"Relax, man…" he chuckles. "I just meant where did he go?"
"Oh…" I really need to stop being so paranoid. "He's spending the day with Jo," I explain.
My tone comes out more glum than I want it to. But luckily, Carlos is enjoying his Cap'N Crunch so much he's not even aware of the sorrow in my voice.
"Oh, cool. Jo's really good for him, don't you think?" Carlos asks rhetorically.
It's like a knife against my side hearing one of my best friends say someone else is good for the guy I'm in love with. I form a fixed smile and just nod.
I sit and play with my cereal. I barely eat any of it and the cereal starts to get soggy as it absorbs the milk.
I look at Carlos, who seems so naively content with his breakfast. He's always been the optimistic, happy-go-lucky one of the group. He can barely hold a grudge for more than ten minutes and he's the kind of friend you'd go to when you need to vent to someone, because he's entirely free of judgment.
I want to tell him about my affair with Kendall.
I know I shouldn't be involving anyone else into our secret, but keeping this huge secret has been a burden. It's been eating at me to keep this from people I care about. The only person who knows is Kendall, but it seems every time we mention anything remotely close to the affair, our guilt seems to paralyze us. Either that or we disagree on how to handle the situation. Talking to someone who's not involved could give me an unbiased opinion, which is what I think I need. The temptation to tell Carlos is much too great.
"Hey, Carlos, can I ask you something?"
He stops and looks at me—unexpectedly—with widened eyes.
"Logan, I swear I didn't mean to use your toothbrush to clean my shoes."
"No, not that! I was going to— Wait! What?"
"Nevermind. You were saying?" he smiles nervously.
I narrow my eyes at him and shake my head, but let the matter drop.
"Note to self: buy a new toothbrush," I say aloud. "Anyway… I need some advice on something."
"Of course, what's wrong?"
I have the choice to tell Carlos, but what if I'm wrong? What if Carlos does judge me? And what if he judges Kendall, who would no doubt feel betrayed that I spilled a secret without his knowledge.
I decide that it's not the right time to tell anyone yet, not even Carlos.
"So I have this… friend. His name is… Larry," I substitute.
"Larry?" Carlos cocks his head.
Oh no… Is he on to me? I play cool and continue anyway.
"Yes, Larry. And you see my friend, Larry, made a mistake—a huge mistake—that he now feels guilty about."
"What did Larry do?"
"Well, my friend… he, uh, he slept with his best friend… Kirk."
"Kirk," Carlos repeats without humor.
"Yes," I affirm barely making eye contact.
Carlos looks like he's processing something and now I wonder if I should have just been upfront and honest with him from the start. He scratches his head.
He deliberates internally for a few more moments before saying, "I don't see the big deal, Logan. So your friend, Larry, is into guys. So what? It's the 21st century," Carlos smiles and shrugs.
"Well, I'm glad to hear you're so open-minded," and I truly mean it. "But that's not the issue. You see, Kirk is already with someone."
"He already has a boyfriend?"
"Not exactly," I say with a wince. "He has a girlfriend. Her name is… Jen."
I mentally facepalm myself. Why am I continuing to make up fictitious names?
"Ohhh, that changes things," Carlos voices.
"Yeah, so what should I, uh, I mean, Larry do?"
I pray Carlos doesn't catch my minor slip.
He looks focused, like he's taking in everything I told him and assessing the best solution.
"Well, I think your friend Larry should talk to Kirk and convince him that they need to be honest about their affair. They need to tell Jen and anyone else that may be involved. I'm not saying it'll be easy, but I'm sure Larry will feel much better afterwards," Carlos wisely advises.
"Yeah, I think you're right. You know, you're a lot smarter than you look, Carlos," I tease.
He laughs and adds, "Yeah, I have my moments. But hey, tell your friend good luck with his situation. I hope it all works out for him."
I realize that Carlos sincerely has no clue that I had been referring to myself the entire time. For a brief moment, I thought he was just humoring me and playing along with my terrible name changes. But the childlike innocence on his face tells me otherwise.
People may see this as him being oblivious or naïve, but now I just see it as Carlos being good-hearted. He's always had a heart of gold; a heart easily bigger than all of ours, mine included. He's not some jaded cynic that expects the worst in people. He truly believes in everyone's best. It makes me weigh his morality versus my own. I have nothing good to show for myself anymore. I'm the guy that lets people think I'm a good wholesome boy when I'm really having an affair with someone who's already taken. I then realize I'm disgusted with myself.
"So do I," I finally reply with a meek smile.
I push my bowl away from me because I've lost my appetite.
"Logan, you all right? You look pale all of a sudden."
Carlos looks at me with concern. I decide I should probably leave before he thinks I've mentally lost it.
"Uh, I got to go. Thanks for the advice though, Carlos."
"No problem, man," he smiles proudly.
I jump into some shoes and head out of the apartment, completely forgetting to say bye to Carlos. I stand in the hallway absentmindedly. I pace around anxiously and impatiently; impatient for what or whom, I have no idea. I just have this overwhelming and consuming need to confess all my wrongdoing. Then it dawns on me. I need to talk to Kendall. I need for him to understand that I can't live with this guilt for a second longer. I know he's with Jo, but I'm not sure I can wait all day; I'm bursting at the seams as it is.
I run for the elevator and slide in before it closes. I push for it to take me to the third floor—for it to take me to Jo's apartment.
When the doors open to the third floor, I run towards 3I and barely hesitate, because if I do, I know I will back out again. But when I get to Jo's apartment, I do hesitate, because her door isn't fully closed.
I stop and debate on whether or not I should knock. I find it odd that a teen girl living on her own doesn't take the time to lock her door. I slowly push the door with ease until I'm standing in Jo's apartment.
Her TV is turned off, so the place is quiet. I glance around her tidy little apartment. It's immaculate. Her blinds are opened to allow the sun to shine through. Her place smells floral, citrusy almost. It's definitely clean and girly, unlike mine and Kendall's room, which is cluttered and smells of sweat and dirty socks.
I see her bookcase against the wall, filled with books, but what catches my eyes are the framed photos of her and Kendall everywhere. They're smiling and clearly happy in all of them.
What the hell are you doing here?! I scream at myself. But my curiosity is too great. It's like seeing someone's diary left open and unattended. I have to take a peek.
I pick one up and see how their eyes light up. Petty jealousy and humiliation surge through me. I then realize that I don't belong with Kendall. I never did. I just foolishly convinced myself that I did.
Suddenly I hear some shuffling noises coming from the other room. I walk towards the noise like a moth to a flame. I know it can be potentially hazardous but I can't seem to will my legs to stop moving forward. The noises grow as I approach the door to what I can only assume is Jo's room. My heart stills as if silencing the heartbeats that would be so loud and give away my location. I hear muttering but it's hard to make out what they're saying. As I inch closer to the room, I hear "can't" being repeated a lot, but that's the only audible word I can make out. I peer through the crack from the door being left slightly open. And then I see them.
Kendall is over Jo and she has her limbs wrapped around him. They're kissing each other roughly and she has already unbuttoned his shirt and now has begun to undo his jeans. I feel the bile rise in my throat. I cover my mouth with my hand to keep from vomiting. I can't watch another second of this; it's too much. I bolt out of the room, not caring if they hear me.
I run like a madman through the hallway and pound repeatedly on the elevator button to take me back down to our floor. I grow impatient and run for the stairs. It feels like the oxygen in my lungs has been depleted.
When I finally make it back to 2J, I dash towards my room, as if I'm fleeing to a safe haven. I close the door behind me and sink down to the floor. I bang the back of my head against the door, cursing quietly to myself. I feel tears prick my eyes and overflow. I bind my knees together with my arms and sob into them. I should have known better… Why did I get myself into this mess? I'm such a fool.
I cry pathetically for a few more minutes before the sorrow turns into anger. I decide I don't want to be inside of the Palm Woods. Fuck the Palm Woods. Fuck Hollywood. Everything was less complicated when we were back in Minnesota. I uprooted my life just so everyone else can chase their dreams, and the only thing I got in return is a broken heart.
I wipe my tear-stained face against my sleeve and head out of the room, the apartment, and the Palm Woods.
I walk around the park feeling lost and confused. Instead of feeling better, I feel worse than before. I'm surrounded by places and things Kendall and I have experienced together, all the memories we've shared.
It's a gorgeous day out, but somehow I can't fully enjoy the beauty of it all. I miss the simpler days. I miss the simplicity of just being… no acts or pretenses, no secrets or lies. I'm beginning to question the purity of love. How can my love for Kendall be pure when it's tainted with lies and deceit? Can I even call it love? I debate this for a bit, but I realize I love Kendall—there's no question about it. Whether or not he loves me is beside the point, because it doesn't change how I feel about him.
I love him more than I realized I could possibly love another human being, but I now know that my love for him will always be overcast by guilt. I'll never have—nor deserve—a happy ending with Kendall if our relationship is built on this affair. I now understand what I must do. I've subconsciously knew it all along, but I now see with perfect clarity that I can't be with someone I love—even someone I love as deeply as Kendall—if I can't forgive myself.
I have to hold myself accountable for my actions. I have to reclaim control of my life. I have to make the right choices.
The thought of having to tell him we can't be together kills me. I want him more than I've wanted anything in my entire life, but I have to take responsibility for my actions. I have to let him go.
I make my peace with this gut-wrenching decision. I picture him. I picture every detail of his face. I replay last night in my mind; the way he touched me, the way he kissed me, the way he held, the moment he told me he loved me…
I close my eyes and touch my lips. I hold on to the memory of the first time I felt his lips press against mine. I didn't know I could feel so breathless yet so alive both at once. I feel the emotions intensify and the onslaught of tears brimming at the corners of my eyes again. They spill out again, but this time I'm thankful they do… I've been holding them in for too long.
A cool breeze cuts through the warm air. I feel the zephyr dance around my face and flutter my hair. I let the breeze calm me, and deliver me serenity and clarity.
Goodbye, Kendall, I mentally say to the memory of him.
