A/N: Wow, do I have some notes for this one. *ahem*
First off, super special shout out to rockchickwrites(slash-blogs) for all the amazing fanart and manips, including the new cover photo on here. LOVE it! So awesome. And also shout-out to SWACGleekFreak, kendallschmidtandcake (tumblr name, dunno your name on here, sorry), and mah Nathers for their fanart. Amazing, guys! So freaking cool to see. Gives me many happies, so thanks a million.
Speaking of happies, I HAVE TWO-HUNDRED REVIEWS! I only hit 100, like, three chapters ago or something. This is INSANE! And huge shout out to littelprincess for being #200 and writing an amazing review! But seriously, thanks to everyone who reviews. Love each and every one of you! It's so awesome to see my hard work and hand cramps are paying off and that everyone's enjoying this. Each review makes me so happy and motivates me to work on this story more so I can get the next update and see what everyone thinks. So once again, thank you, thank you, thank you. You guys fucking rick! (no typo, I'm sure you get the joke. If not... *hug*)
Twitter is property of itself, don't sure, I REALLY love you. MSN is property of Microsoft, don't sue either, I love you as well. Once again "AddictForDramatics" is from the Taking Back Sunday song "Liar (It Takes One to Know One)". "Douchebaggery", "dickbit", and "pusswhack" all come courtesy of my dad. We are an unusual family. VIP Nation is property of itself and I'm sure they employ lovely people. Don't get mad at what is in here; it wasn't me, it was Kendall *hands up in innocence* Metallica is just awesome and I just happen to have a Metallica baseball tee on right now. And cute platonic Kenlos moments are cute.
Phew! I think that's it...Now, on to what you guys actually came for and not my long winded rambling author notes: The update! :D Enjoy!
Kendall wasn't really one to think or plan ahead. It wasn't that he didn't care, didn't want to; he just tended to not have time. He was more into living in the moment, doing things as soon as the mood struck, taking chances and just going for it. After all, a life without risks is a life unlived.
But when it came to that concert, the blond actually planned. He laid out times for leaving, when he should get shit done that day. He picked out his outfit in advance. He requested the day of and day after off work, knowing he wouldn't be in the mood for being at a grocery store when the show was over, although he wasn't sure what events would lead to it or exactly what mood it would be.
Okay, so he had a feeling it would be sadness and more moping, even though part of him had been hoping for joy, ecstasy, and a sore ass. But either way, he had no idea as to just how far down his sadness was gonna take him.
He ended up sleeping in late, his mom having left for work already, but remained in bed a couple more hours after he woke, repeating the same scenes in his head over and over: James leaving the dressing room; James ignoring him as he hugged Katie; James with an apology on his face as he walked away. Those images played on, in a continuous loop, until he finally had enough.
Shoving his covers back, he got outta bed, movements fueled by anger. James was a dick. He used Kendall—or was planning to anyway—for his own pleasure, then stormed out and left the blond confused. He clearly didn't give a shit about the teen or his feelings; he just wanted to get some ass. And, yeah, maybe Kendall had freaked him out with his request to be fucked, but that could've been because the singer was only after a BJ. Maybe he didn't actually have sex with groupies for fear they'd get attached, when all it would be was a one time thing.
Which clearly was all James planned it to be with Kendall.
The blond ruminated on that while he showered, fuming, pissed that he'd been ditched without a reason, without a goodbye. Who the fuck did that pop star dickbit think he was, getting the teen worked up like that and leaving him with balls bluer than that trio of painted freaks in Vegas? That was some serious douchebaggery right there.
He scrubbed himself with more vigor than usual, anger driving his actions once more, skin getting red and raw. But by the time he was rinsing the shampoo out his hair, his mood shifted, depression taking over once again.
Why wasn't he good enough? Why'd the singer leave him, ignore him, suddenly decide he wanted nothing to do with him? Why didn't the brunet stick around? He could've easily said he wasn't interested in sex and they could've just made out or talked or something. But instead, the pop star made the teen feel like a piece of shit, unworthy of the famous male's time.
Kendall let out a heavy sigh as he shut the water off, smearing a hand down his face and wiping away wetness. Just once he'd like to be good enough. Just once he'd wanna be exactly what someone else needs or wants, to be able to make them happy, to do exactly what needed to be done to have them stay put.
No wonder Katie would rather hang with Carlos.
His mood now super fucking fantastic, he exited the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist before looking at the clothes he'd grabbed and put on the counter. He held up his t-shirt, the one he'd gotten in that VIP goodie bag, dark purple with gold diamond drawing on it and the singer's signature right below it. He'd been planning on wearing it and some gray sweatpants after his shower, but now that he was looking at it, now that he was in the mood he was in, he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to.
He needed to get over this stupid crush—'cause that's all it was, a ridiculous and incredibly unhealthy obsession with a celeb—needed to move on. 'Cause clearly, this shit wasn't good for him. He'd always been moody, never really been an overly chipper, overly giddy, overly pleasant guy—not over the past few years anyway—but he'd been worse lately. Katie had said as much the night before, Carlos a couple weeks ago. Clearly Kendall had changed, and for the worse.
Well, no fucking more! He was done. He was sick and fucking tired of pining over something he never had, of acting like a depressed little bitch because he wasn't with the singer, of feeling like a delusional fucktwit for believing he actually had a shot with the pop star. That shit was over and done with and he wasn't going back to that. From that moment on, he was finished with all things James Diamond. He was moving on with his life and getting over the brunet bastard who ditched him.
Starting with getting rid of that fucking t-shirt.
Balling the tee up, he walked over to his desk and held it over his trash can. Only he couldn't bring himself to drop the purple fabric in. As badly as he wanted to get over the other male and quit this ridiculous depressive pusswhack behavior, he wasn't sure he was ready to.
Fuck, he really was a fucking addict.
With a sigh, he tossed the t-shirt onto a pile of clothes over in the corner by his closet. Smearing a hand over his face, he tried to wipe the somber expression away, only managing to feel the short whiskers of his unshaven jaw against his rough palm.
Okay, new plan. He'd allow himself one day of being down and depressed, because he pretty much deserved it after having the singer walk out then ignore him. But beginning the next day, he was gonna start getting over the dick.
Somehow.
He headed to his closet to grab a different shirt, but before he could even stick his hand in, the bedroom door flew open, making him slightly jump and snap his head to the left.
Carlos stood in the threshold of Kendall's room, huge grin taking over his face, dark eyes dancing in delight. The phrase "Kid on Christmas morning" popped into the blond's mind and he wondered why the hell the Latino was looking more giddy than usual.
"Heeey, buuuuddy!" the shorter male greeted the taller, literally bouncing into the bedroom.
"'Litos," the blond replied, more serious than his friend, watching as his door was shut. "What's up with you showing up when I'm just out the shower and in a towel? Something you wanna tell me?" He cocked an eyebrow as he look at the other male.
Carlos' eyes widened further than the blond thought possible, the joy and exuberance gone from his face, replaced instead by panic. "Whoa! No! No, no, no!" he protested, waving his arms back and forth in front of himself. "I don't—there's nothing—I—no."
Kendall laughed as he turned his head back to his closet. "Relax, 'Litos. I'm fuckin' with ya."
An audible exhale hit the blond's ears and he saw the shorter male slump dramatically out the corner of his eye. "Phew! Thank god. 'Cause I love ya, but not that way. You're not my type."
"Same to you."
And it was true. While Kendall loved Carlos, it was as a brother. And the blond knew the Latino tended to go for clean cut guys with dark hair, while he preferred dudes with tats, piercings, and instruments. Until recently anyway.
Shoving that thought aside, he grabbed a random black tee—which just happened to be a "Master of Puppets" one—then headed back to the bathroom. He shut the door before unwrapping his towel, hearing his mattress squeak as his friend sat on it.
"So, why are you here?" he called through, wiping himself down. "Not that I don't enjoy your company or anything."
"I'm here for a recap!" Carlos yelled back, bouncing on the bed, causing more squeaking. "I wanna hear every last detail of what went down between you and Jaa-aames!" he sang the other male's name, making the blond roll his eyes.
Kendall dropped the towel on the floor before pulling on his boxers. "Why didn't you just call?"
"I did. Like, five times, and I texted, but you didn't reply. So, I came over."
His brow furrowed in confusion as he finished getting dressed. Leaving the bathroom, he headed past the end of his bed, and Carlos, walking to his nightstand and grabbing his phone. Sure enough, there were five missed calls and even more texts, including one stating the Latino was on his way over and one from Twitter, a DM Camille sent ordering Kendall to "GET ON MSN *NOW *" Well, that didn't bode well.
With a sigh, he turned and headed to his desk, sinking down onto his chair. Flipping his laptop open, he switched the device on and waited for it to warm up as he sat parallel to his desk. Meaning he could see Carlos and the expectant look on his tan face.
"What?"
"I'm waiting."
Kendall's brow furrowed. "For what?"
"For you to tell me what happened last night! Duh!" The excitement was back in the Latino's voice as he slightly bounced in place once more.
The blond turned in his seat, smearing his left hand over his face as his right set about signing him into MSN. As much as Kendall had been feeling and acting like a chick lately, Carlos was worse and had been for years. Whether it was gossip, squealing over "adorable" things, fretting over his wardrobe, or freaking when his favorite outfit got dirty, the Latino had an extra dose of estrogen in him. Strange when you considered the walking testosterone pack of a cop that was his dad.
His laptop beeped as Kendall received an IM, a "FINALLY!" from Camille. He quickly sent an apology as Carlos started kicking his legs up and down like a little kid.
"I'm still waaaitiiing!" the shorter male sing-songed, smirk on his face.
"Nothing happened," the blond lied, eyes on the screen as the words "AddictsForDramatics is writing..." appeared at the bottom of the IM window.
"Bull!" Carlos argued.
True, but Kendall wasn't in the mood to discuss anything with anyone, nor go back over the painful moments of the night before. He'd had enough heartache to last a lifetime.
But he'd known Carlos long enough to know the Latino wouldn't let it go without some sorta subject change.
Reaching behind his laptop, he grabbed the items he needed. "Here ya go," he stated, tossing his friend the purple hoodie he'd purchased and the VIP bag he'd been given. He sure as shit wasn't gonna use it.
Carlos practically squealed, rambling at loud volume over how awesome everything was, about how he couldn't believe Kendall had actually bought him a hoodie, how the blond was gonna give up his bag...
The taller male muttered out a "you're welcome" as he turned back to his laptop screen, seeing Camille had messaged.
AddictForDramatics: the ENTIRE fandom is freaking out! Kendall showed up at the show and had vip! Look at how cute this pic is!
Oh. Fuck.
Kendall had, once again, totally forgotten all about those fucking pictures and how they were published online. And now his face was gonna be plastered all over Tumblr, just like before. Although no one actually knew it was him. As far as he knew anyway.
The second VIP pic he'd taken with James and Katie fill the MSN screen and he felt the shattered pieces of his heart pound. All three of them had huge smiles on their faces, all of them happy in that moment. And the singer? God, he was glowing, eyes sparkling, that smile warm and genuine. Kendall would've given anything to go back to that moment, to go back to when things were perfect, when he was happy and peaceful inside, before everything went to shit in the dressing room.
But before he could say or do anything, Camille sent another picture, a close-up one. Of James' hand over Kendall's.
AddictForDramatics: LOOK AT THEIR FREAKING HANDS!
Right, because she'd given Kendall a choice in the matter, what with how fucking huge the photo was.
And like before, he wasn't given a chance to reply, because suddenly, Spanish was being yelled out from behind him.
He spun around in his chair, seeing Carlos ranting in the other language, dark eyes narrowed at the blond male. "'Litos," Kendall started, rubbing his forehead. "Inglés, por favor."
"You told me nothing happened!"
Fuck.
The taller male saw a new message appear out the corner of his eye and turned his head to see what Camille had said.
AddictForDramatics:and that was the only guy w/ a younger sis in all the vip pix...
Double fuck. Or was it triple fuck at that point? Whatever. He was still beyond screwed.
All right, it was nothing that major. He could totally lie. He could make up some bullshit excuse about how his mom wouldn't let him leave 'til late and he missed the VIP shit 'cause of it, but wow! That Kendall guy showed up! Wonder what's happening there.
Or he could stop being a dipshit and tell the truth. Camille was trustworthy, a great friend, even if they had met on the internet. He owed it to her to quit hiding everything from her.
He also owed it to Carlos, too.
With a sigh, he typed a message to his female friend.
Kenny: got a webcam?
AddictForDramatics:yeah. y?
Kenny: turn it on. iou & my friend an explanation & it'd b easier this way
AddictForDramatics: ohhhhkay...
"Kendall?" Carlos' voice was wary, clearly having no idea what was happening or how to act.
A pop-up asking the blond if he wanted to accept a video call from AddictForDramatics appeared on the MSN window and he clicked 'yes' before leaning back, waiting for the webcam to warm-up and start transmitting.
"I have an explanation to make to you and my friend so-" He paused and shrugged, essentially wrapping up his statement.
"Carlos?"
The female voice from the laptop had both males snapping their heads to the screen. Camille was visible, all pale skin and tightly curled brown hair, confused smile on her face. The small square in the bottom left corner showed what Kendall's camera was capturing, which was the Latino and not the blond.
"Camille?!" A wide grin broke out over the smaller male's tan face as confusion spread over the taller's. Carlos and Camille knew each other? How? What the fuck was going on?
"Wait," she stated, pointing at the screen. "You're Kenny?"
Carlos joined Team I Have No Clue What the Fuck is Happening Right Now, his own brow furrowing. "Who the hell is Ken-" He cut himself off, turning to his best friend. "-Ny?"
"Like I said," the blond began, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have some 'splainin' to do."
"Carlos, who's in the room with you? What's going on?"
Kendall let out a sigh before moving his laptop back on the desk, swinging his chair around so he was in the shot with his friend. Sheepish look on his face, he greeted the female he'd been messaging for the past couple months. "Hey, Camille."
Her brown eyes went wide, painted lips opening into a shocked 'O' shape as a disbelieving laugh left them. "Oh. My god. You're Kendall. You're theKendall! I can't believe I didn't figure it out sooner." She shook her head as she looked away, hand on her forehead, seeming to be trying to wrap her mind around everything. A brief moment of this, then she turned her head back to the cam. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want anyone to know," the blond confessed, rubbing the back of his neck again. He was fully aware that he had a lotta shit he needed to get out in the open, that he needed to tell both Carlos and Camille. He just had no clue where to begin.
"I knew that if people knew I was the Kendall who'd been on stage with James, they'd start treating me differently, get all in my shit and invade my privacy. And the last thing I wanted was for anyone to know the real me."
"I don't see anything wrong with the real you."
"Thanks, 'Litos." He gave a small smile as he dropped his hand onto his lap.
"So, who isthe real you?" Camille questioned. "'Cause I feel like I only know Kenny."
"Yeah, who's Kenny?" Carlos threw his own inquiry into the mix.
Right. That.
The taller male scrunched up his face as he started explaining. "Yeah, I didn't want anyone I knew in real life knowing I liked James Diamond so I made a second Twitter account to follow him and a secret Tumblr to reblog stuff about him." He turned to the laptop. "And hiding my real name from my friends meant I could also hide the fact that I actually loathe pop music and would rather blast some metal or screamo than listen to fuckin' Justin Beaver or OneDouche-rection."
"Yeah, the Metallica shirt kinda gives that away."
Full brows raised as he remembered what he was wearing. Thank fuck he didn't put that VIP shirt on after all.
"So," she continued. "You hid these accounts from your friends because you were afraid of their judgments. And you hid your real self from the internet for the same reason, plus you didn't want a constant fifth degree about what happened between you and James."
He nodded, lips pursed, but turned down at the same time. Sounded kinda dumb when she said it like that. Probably was. Fuck it, whatever. "Yeah, pretty much."
"Well, ya fucked up," Carlos started, waiting as the other two people in the convo turned to him. "'Cause I'm about to give you the fifth degree anyway."
"Yeah, what really did happen between you guys?"
Aaand now it was time for the part of the discussion Kendall really didn't wanna have.
"Nothing," he stated honestly. "I mean, you guys have both seen everything that happened the first time."
"Yeah, including the sparks that flew and the loving glances that were exchanged," Camille pointed out, staring off dreamily, letting out a sign as she grinned. "And nothing happened after that?"
"I made those accounts and downloaded his music." 'Then lied to everyone about everything.'
'Thanks for the commentary, brain. You never fail to make me feel good about myself.'
"But what about last night?" Carlos pried again. "And you can't say 'nothing', not after the hands!" He scooted forward on the bed, pointing towards the laptop, serious expression on his face as he glared at Kendall. Carlos being serious? Shit was major.
The blond turned to his laptop and saw the same expectant look on Camille's face, perfectly manicured eyebrows raised, arms folded over her chest as she leaned back in her chair.
He honestly had no idea what to say to either friend, no clue how much info to divulge. In all honesty, he wanted to keep it all to himself, to hold onto those private moments and keep them as just that: private. But he knew it'd be better to get it out there—at least get it out there to Camille and Carlos. He was sick of keeping secrets and having to track all his lies. Plus, there was a chance they could help him figure shit out, explain James' weird behavior, be able to see things clearly and objectively and not through a haze created by lust and hormones.
"Well," he started, leaning forward so his elbows were resting on his knees, hand rubbing the back of his neck once more. He needed a new nervous tic before he had no skin left there. "The meet and greet was uneventful."
"Hands!" Carlos objected, pointing to the laptop with both arms, like some model on a game show displaying a prize.
"Okay, there was that," the taller male conceded, dropping his hand so it clapped against his other one. "And he wouldn't drop his arm around from me either when I tri-"
"Whoa!" the lone female interrupted. "When was his arm around you?"
Right. He clearly needed to start at the beginning.
So, leaning back, Kendall told them about his name being brought up during the Q&A, James' reply of wishing to meet all fans a second time, and how crushed he felt—which earned him an 'aww' from his two friends. He went to explain the meet and greet, how the singer remembered his name—that got simultaneous squeals—the arm wrapped around his waist and how he tightened his grip—more squeals—the pop star's insistence of taking a second picture, then suggesting they hold up Katie, and covering Kendall's hand—the squealing shit was getting old.
"Then what happened?" Camille pried as she leaned towards her computer, arms folded on her desk. Her eyebrows briefly lifted up in suggestion, smirk on her face that meant she was hoping it was x-rated. Too bad for her it wasn't. Too bad for Kendall, too, when he thought about it.
Turning his head slightly to the left, he caught sight of Carlos' huge grin, the light sparkling in his dark eyes, obviously excited for what happens next. Was gonna suck for him as well.
Facing forward, the blond stared at the wall across from him, sitting parallel to his desk, Camille and his laptop on his right, Carlos and his bed on his left. But it was like they weren't there, like Kendall wasn't there. He was back at Xcel Energy Center, back in that meet and greet room, back with that VIP Nation prick telling him it was time to go. He could feel the same sadness, the same disappointment as he'd felt in that moment, which was understandable. Not only had the flashbacks brought emotions back, attached to the images playing in his head, but he was suffering from another cruel reminder that he'd never see James again. At least not anytime soon.
Withholding a sigh, Kendall felt his sadness weighing heavily on him, causing his shoulders to slump and his head to tilt down. He stared at his hands as he played with his fingers, brow drawn.
"Then," he started, hand rubbing the back of his neck. A-fucking-gain. "We had to leave. VIP Nation dickface kicked us out."
Camille made an offended noise, slamming back against her chair and folding her arms under her chest. "Okay, I need to find out who that jackhole was 'cause he's messing with my OTP and clearly needs to be pounded."
That caused the side of Kendall's lips to slightly twitch up as he dropped his hand back onto his lap, fingers tangling together once again as he watched. He really should stop biting his nails. He should also focus on the conversation at hand, but distracting himself with trivial thoughts regarding his bad habits seemed like a much better idea.
"Look on the bright side," Carlos began, putting a sympathetic hand on the blond's shoulder. "He obviously remembered you." His smile was bright, optimistic as he tried to cheer his friend up.
Too bad Kendall didn't feel like being unbummed.
The taller male scoffed, still not raising his head, picking at a hangnail on his left thumb. "Only 'cause people kept showing him my pic. Said so when we were in his dressing room."
His two friends let out simultaneous "WHAT?!"s, the one displayed on his laptop saying what both were thinking. "When were you in his dressing room? And why?!"
He clearly needed to pay more attention when he talked.
Shifting in his seat, he cleared his throat before speaking. "After leaving the meet 'n' greet, me and Katie started heading towards the merch booth, but Logan came u-"
"Whoa!" the Latino interrupted, forcing the blond to stop and look at him. "You met Logan?!"
The taller male's eyebrow furrowed as confusion took over his face. He knew Logan was famous within the fandom, but he didn't expect Carlos to focus on the fact that Kendall had been introduced to the guy. Whatever.
"Yeah, at the meet 'n' greet."
"He's so cute."
"Riiight." The blond stretched the word out as he turned his head away. Another example of how they had different tast in men. "Anyway, he came up to us and said James wanted to see me-" More. Fucking. Squeals. "-so I went with Logan to James' dressing room and Katie went to the merch booth with Freight Train."
"You met Freight Train, too?!"
Okay, Kendall was well aware that Carlos wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, but he was focusing on all the wrong parts of this story.
"Well, obviously they met, otherwise Kenny-dall wouldn't have mentioned him," Camille pointed out, good natured smirk on her face as the 'duh' went unspoken. She turned her head so she was no longer looking at Carlos, but Kendall instead. "So, why did James wanna see you?"
Damn fine question, even if it was an obvious one. And it wasn't until that moment that Kendall realized he never did find that out.
"No fuckin' clue," he answered honestly, head turned to the laptop.
"So, what happened then?"
He felt that same earlier desire to keep it all to himself, to keep it private and personal. It was an intimate moment between two men, behind the privacy of a closed door. No bodyguards, no VIP Nation douchefucks, no best friends, and most of all, no titles. It wasn't internationally known pop star James Diamond and random metal head teenager Kendall Knight. It was just James and Kendall, doing what two people who were attracted to each other—assuming the brunet was attracted to the blond, too—did when alone together, no other people intruding upon their clandestine moment, a secret they shared with each other and no one else. He wasn't entirely sure if he wanted anyone else knowing about it.
But he also wasn't entirely sure if keeping it to himself was such a great idea either. Sure, Camille and Carlos had been pretty forgiving about Kendall's lies so far, but that didn't mean they'd continue to be that way in the future, especially when they find out he was hiding even more shit from them. Plus, it was like his earlier thought of them possibly being able to help him out, give him advice or insight into James' behavior. Maybe if he could figure out why the singer had left, he wouldn't spend so much time thinking about it and would be able to move on faster and easier. And really, that was the ultimate goal here.
Taking a deep breath, Kendall mentally braced himself to tell the story. "Well," he began, still somewhat reluctant to say anything, despite his mental reasoning that it was a good idea. "He said I was a good bro for taking Katie to the show and for whatever reason, thought I was in college. When I told him I was seventeen, he acted kinda weird."
"Weird how?" Camille questioned, seeming fully invested in the tale.
"I dunno. Just." He paused to think how to best explain it, eyes turned up and looking around, as though he could find the answer on his ceiling. "He seemed shocked, then put off, like my age was an issue."
"Don't see why it would be," his female friend pointed out. "You're legal in a lotta states."
"Including Minnesota," Carlos added with a smirk.
"Yeah, well, we know that, but apparently he doesn't." Another sigh left the blond as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped as they hung. "So, I asked him what the hell that was about and he said nothing then changed the subject to my shirt-"
"Definitely gay," the Latino interrupted. "He wouldn't care about your clothing otherwise."
The taller male furrowed his brow at the random tangent, but quickly recovered, ignoring the comment. "And how it had a metal band on it-" he gave a pointed look to Carlos "-just like my other one, which was when he brought up people showing him my pic." He felt that same disappointment as he had at that moment, head hanging, green eyes trained on the gray carpet.
"He's lying," the other male commented, arms folded over his chest, chin stuck out stubbornly.
"Agreed," Camille stated from the laptop. "There is no way you could have that kinda connection and not remember the person you had it with. I mean, that sexual tension was so strong, you could feel it through the computer screen! I'm sure it was just as strong, if not more, in person and when you're actually the one feeling it and being a part of it."
Kendall nodded, well aware that she was speaking the truth. Although he wasn't sure how it looked from the outside, but inside it was like being in an inferno, one he fully enjoying being burned alive in.
Masochistic, much?
"Maybe he was just trying to protect himself and his feelings by pretending he didn't remember you," she continued after a brief silent moment. "Nothing worse than really being into someone and they don't feel the same."
"Trust me, I know," Kendall pointed out as he sat up, only to slump in his seat. If there was one thing he was fully versed on over the past couple months, it was unrequited love.
"How?"
Okay, Carlos' ditziness was gonna put him in a nut hut. And he wordlessly said as much with just one 'are you fucking serious?' look aimed at the Latino.
Clueless as ever, the smaller male just shrugged and shook his head, hands out to the side, face showing he was totally lost. "What? I'm serious. How would you know about someone not liking you back when James was so clearly into you?"
"'Cause he's not into me."
He mirrored Kendall's previous facial expression. "Right. And you know that how?"
Jesus fucking Christ, the blond was so fucking done with all aspects of this conversation, especially this part. But whatever, might as well get it over and done with.
"Because when we were making out, he said 'fuck' and I said 'yes please' and he stormed out!" He blurted it all out on one breath, before smearing his hand over his face.
"You guys made out?!" Camille and Carlos had the simultaneous speaking thing down pat, Kendall had to admit it.
He dropped his hand onto his lap, staring straight ahead at the wall, eyes slightly narrowed out of frustration. "Yeah. And then he left."
"What was it like?"
"Did he use tongue?"
"Who started it?"
"Were body parts grabbed?"
"Did you come?"
"'Litos!" The blond's eyes widened as his head snapped to his best friend.
"What?" The Latino looked as cluelessly innocent as usual. "Valid question. Maybe you coming too early spooked him and he left."
Another long 'are you fucking serious?' look before the blond said a simple "no".
"Are you suuu-"
"I didn't come, Carlos!"
"He must not've been that good then."
Kendall rubbed his forehead in both embarrassment and frustration, wondering why he told the shorter male about what happened between himself and the pop star.
"Maybe he panicked at how good it was," Camille suggested, making a lotta sense and causing Kendall to remember why he clued his friends in. "Especially since you're four years younger and live in Minnesota. If you had this great connection and then a mind-blowing make-out session, chances are it would lead to a relationship, which wouldn't be easy given the distance and his fame."
The blond raised his eyebrows, lips pouting as he nodded. What she said seemed highly likely, seemed like a good explanation. Maybe Kendall asking to be fucked made James realize how far they were going, how much further they could go and he didn't want that, for whatever reason. Maybe he wasn't ready for a relationship. Maybe he didn't wanna come out. Maybe-
Right, Kendall was stopping. He was done thinking about what happened and the possible reasons for it. He had a likely explanation that was currently satisfying his curiosity. He was gonna be able to move one.
Eventually.
Maybe.
He hoped.
Another sigh—fuck, was he doing that a lot lately—as he stared at his hands in his lap, picking at what fingernails he hadn't chewed off. He'd had the same thought several times over the past twenty-four hours, but it still held true, still rang in his head: he was done. Done being mopey, done being moody, done pining and wondering and holding out hope.
"Well, whatever the reasons," he began, voice low. "I'm over it."
He friends snorted in sync.
"Okay, I'm gonna try and get over it. 'Cause whatever happened for whatever reasons, it's over, never gonna happen again."
"What if you go to another concert?" Camille brought up. "And you get VIP again and everything happens just like it did before? Would you still feel the same way and wanna get over it?"
He fucking hated hypotheticals. Really, truly hated them. They were what kept him up at night, kept him hoping, kept him going when he wanted so fucking bad to just stop and move on. But this time, he was standing firm, answering with an honest "yes".
If it was still true in the future when that hypothetical situation actually happened, who the fuck knew?
Neither Camille nor Carlos looked like they believed him, but they also didn't say anything. Luckily for him. He really didn't need to hear how they were holding out hope and felt like something was gonna happen and that they were still gonna ship the singer and the fan. He needed them to support him in his decision to move on and help him get over the pop star.
He had a feeling it wasn't gonna happen.
"Can we talk about something else?" he requested, looking back and forth between his friend on his laptop and the one on his bed.
"Sure thing, buddy." Carlos' grin was bright and bubbly as he put a hand on the taller male's shoulder. "Ooh! We can talk about my new job!"
Camille snorted from the laptop, smirking in amusement. "Another one? How long will this one last?"
Kendall laughed, having had the same thought. It made him wonder how the two of them knew each other and for how long. "How'd you guys meet anyway?"
His friends exchanged smiles before telling the story, bringing a smirk to his own face. And while it served to distract him for the time being, he knew it was a temporary fix and that come tomorrow, he'd have to work hard to forget all about James Diamond and everything that had transpired between the two of them.
Deep. Fucking. Joy.