Time was dragging. All Kendall could think was how paralysed he felt, like he was going to be trapped in this bitter and miserable winter until the day he died. He had some awareness that it was still December; it had really only been a day since James had left. Or rather, since Kendall had pushed him out. It felt like months had passed. How could it still be winter? He should've been strolling around in the hot sun by now, but the snow still lay in a wet blanket over the ground and the air still cut at his skin like tiny icicles.
The vet's surgery bill was another $200 extra, for some vaccinations or antibiotics or whatever crap it was. Kendall stared at Dr Bitters blankly, hand tightening slightly and crumbling the money he already held in his hand. "I-I don't have that much," he said weakly, placing his payment on the counter. "That's what I have. $628, like you said." He was relieved; so relieved that he'd chosen to come in and pay the bill today, and collect Merlin tomorrow. After James had left, he'd paced back and forth in his apartment for a while once he had the strength to do so. He'd resorted to stopping by Heather's apartment and borrowing some money from her. She'd had no objections, but he'd felt dirty and cheap and pathetic as he took it from her and put it in his pocket. He had to pay her back as soon as he could; his pride wouldn't allow any less.
"Well, you've got until tomorrow to complete your payment," Katie said, not unreasonably. But Kendall just wanted to grab her and shake her and scream that she just didn't get it. She needed to take a good, long look at him. Did he really look like he'd have that much money to just throw away at a moment's notice? Ignorance was one of his greatest hatreds. "We're not loan sharks or anything like that."
"But, I . . ." Kendall clenched his jaw. At last, he nodded. "I'll be here tomorrow morning. I'll have the money, don't worry." Then he offered a charming smile. "Thank you, for all your help."
So, that was the month's bills to pay, Kendall thought to himself as he left the clinic, trembling all over inside his coat.
And the vet's bill.
He slipped slightly on the sidewalk as he hurried along the darkening street.
And Heather's loan. And better bed for Merlin. And food. And water.
Kendall stopped in the middle of the street, leaning against a street lamp and holding onto it tightly, his arms wrapped around it and gripping it for a bit of balance. People passing were probably wondering if he was drunk, or high, or jut insane, but no. He was only broken. Upset, and scared, and worried, and furious, and utterly shattered inside.
So shattered that he resorted to doing something he'd sworn, even as he'd laid in dirty alleyways with a blanket over him to keep the bitter cold away, that he would never do.
He and James, hand in hand, had gone into a pharmacy one afternoon together after he'd closed up his guitar case and packed up his earnings. James had insisted point blank on him buying two things. One was some cold and flu tablets to help him with his sickness. The second was a box of condoms, so that, as James said, he wouldn't have to pack up a truckload every time he showed up. Exaggerating in an endearingly stupid way, like always. Kendall had to quickly sniffle and dry his eyes so he could at least pretend he was still keeping up this strong facade.
There were three condoms left; he tucked them securely into the pocket of his jacket. But this wasn't enough; what if he needed more?
The neighbour down the hall gave a dirty and sleazy kind of smile when Kendall knocked on his door and asked to borrow a couple. He probably assumed that Kendall had a pretty girl in his room, waiting for him. Or a pretty boy, whichever assumptions he'd chosen to make. He'd been more than happy to oblige, handing them over and waving him off with a good-matured, "Have a good time, now!"
Kendall wanted to laugh, and cry all at once.
It was dark out. The reasons Kendall never liked being outside after dark were the men who stumbled drunkenly up and down the streets, bellowing and crashing against any poor innocent bystander who they happened to see. One of them jolted against Kendall's shoulder and almost sent him flying to the ground. The apology he received was a laugh and the stench of alcohol clotting his senses until the man moved on, and he could breathe again. He hated seeing women stumbling along beside them, equally stupid and doped up on whatever they'd been taking. He always worried about where any of these people would end up, even though he really shouldn't have cared. Most of all, he hated seeing the occasional man or woman lurking on a street corner, or by an alley, waiting for a bit of business. Even in this weather some of the girls wore tiny skirts and high wedges; he didn't know how they could bear it. Some of them dressed more sensibly; the men in particular always did. They didn't dress to catch attention, but everyone knew why they were there.
Kendall found a place to stand and hoped that the right people would know about him, too.
It didn't take long before he did catch someone's attention. He saw straight away that the man had a gold filling in his tooth, and had to shudder. Nobody under forty had those anymore. The alley was darker than the street outside, and it smelled of vomit. Kendall told the man firmly, he wasn't stripping off. It was too cold out, too late. He didn't seem to care. His lips were too dry and cracked and rough against Kendall's neck, it felt wrong and harsh and he wanted to shove him off. He was glad he could just stare at the wall, hands and chest pressed up against it and pretend he was somewhere else. It was hard to, with the stranger plowing into him painfully, his grunts right in his ear and his hands all over him, under his coat and over his bare thighs. And it was even harder when he suddenly realised that he had no happy place left to think about.
The man's payment was pushed into his hand, he heard the sound of a belt being buckled up, and he was gone. Kendall slowly peeled himself back from the wall and pulled his jeans back up, tying them and pretending that they were going to stay that way. He saw the used condom lying on the ground, and for a second he stupidly wondered who it belonged to. He wanted to pick it up and throw it away; he hated littering, but the thought of touching it made bile rise in his throat, and he went back to his spot, leaving it there.
Three more times.
Kendall's body ached, his skin was cold, he was developing a bad cough. It was past midnight now, as the fourth man left him standing in the alley with shaky knees and a heart full of hatred. He even gave him a little spank before he sauntered off, whistling like his night had been made. The four condoms lay by his feet.
Two more.
He wondered if the prostitutes were this busy every single night, or if he was just especially popular. The thought of being wanted to so dearly for this made him sick to his stomach.
When he home that night (or morning) he divided his earnings into three sections. One was for Heather. The second was the vet's bill. And the rest was stuffed into his empty jar. But it looked wrong. It was dirty money; he wanted to give it back. He wanted to take it all back.
He went to bed alone and tried not to hate himself too much.
-
James sat slumped against the piano, forefinger jabbing slightly at one of the keys. He couldn't concentrate enough to know which it was, but it rang out in an ear-piercing shriek through the otherwise silent room. He tried to lift his other hand, maybe just his other fingers and play some kind of note he could bear to listen to. But he felt numb.
"James, please stop that."
James turned around and saw Carlos standing at the door, leaning against it with his arms folded. "Hi," was all James could murmur, gaze dropping to the floor as his hand slid off the piano keys, striking that shrill note one more time before his hand slumped into his lap. "What are you doing here?"
"Logan's studying, I wanted to check up on you, Shay let me in," Carlos explained simply, walking over and sitting on the stool. "So, how are you?"
"Oh. I'm . . . I'm okay."
"You are, yeah." Carlos rolled his eyes. "I've known you for four years. More, I'd say. You're not fine. You're miserable."
"Fine, I'm miserable. Okay?" James' hand slammed down on the piano, making Carlos jump with fright. "It was all a big stupid mistake!" he snarled. "I don't love him and I was stupid to think that I might, it was all just my imagination because he was different! I just fooled myself into thinking I was falling for him and—"
A smack over his head knocked him onto the floor. He whimpered slightly in shock, hand his head as he glared up at Carlos. "What was that for?!"
"To shut you up," Carlos retorted, patting the empty spot beside him on the stool. "Now sit back up here and let me explain something to you."
Giving a grudging sigh, James got up and sat down again, staring ahead with hard eyes. Whatever Carlos was going to say to him, he didn't particularly want to hear it. He wasn't interested in a lecture, or a telling off about his stupidity.
But Carlos didn't intend on either of these. "James, falling in love doesn't happen like that."
"It doesn't?" James turned to stare at Carlos, frowning in confusion. "I . . . what do you know about that?"
"Because, James." Carlos rested a hand on his shoulder. "I realised it when I was in love with Logan, and I waited until I knew he loved me too. I just know. Look, falling in love doesn't happen slowly. If it did, it wouldn't be falling, would it? It'd be like, a slow descent down some steps or something. But it's not; you fall head over heels and it happens like that." He snapped his fingers. "Now, I'm not saying that this means you fall in love with someone immediately. That doesn't happen. You might know someone for only a day before you love them, or you might know them for years. But when you actually fall in love with them, it happens in an instant. And you know. The length of time you've known that person doesn't make it any less real, you just can't help it."
"Okay, Dr Love," James said, putting on a teasing time for a moment before he sobered up again. "So, what exactly are you trying to tell me?"
"I'm telling you that deep down, you know how you feel. You might not be sure of what you want, but you know how you feel. So basically, you have to decide, if you want what's perfect and secure." He paused, giving a small sigh. "Or if you want what's real."
What's real . . .
He didn't realise Carlos had upped and left the room until he lifted his arms to play the piano again, and found he had plenty of room to manoeuvre them. He glanced up and saw the door hanging open. He wanted to call Carlos back, get him to explain more and ask him what he thought he should do. But he had a strong suspicion Carlos wouldn't have responded to either of these calls.
His fingers darted across the piano keys as he played out a song he hadn't played in a long time. Maybe he could start writing music again.
Maybe he could get Kendall to sing it for him.
-
Around him, the city buzzed with festivity. People walked around with a smile on their faces, a little springing in their step. Soon they'd all be eating with their families, opening presents and singing carols at the tops of their voices. Christmas used to be his favourite time of the year.
"It's really close, you know," Logan said as he and James walled along the sidewalk, hands in their coat pockets to keep them warm. White steam puffed out in front of his face as he continued, "Christmas Day. In two days, as a matter of fact. Got everything ready?"
James nodded dully. "Shay took care of it." In other words, he couldn't find himself getting into the Christmas spirit very well, it had been too difficult; he'd had to bite his tongue hard to stop himself from suggesting they get Chinese takeout when Christmas Eve came around. Fortunately, he'd kept his mouth shut. Instead of speaking, all he could do was think of Kendall instead, and miss him. Miss the way he blushed every time he sneezed, and how sometimes when they lay together in the evenings and Kendall had drifted off to sleep, James would just lie there with him, arms wrapped around him as he lazily counted the freckles over his shoulders and his nose, just so he had an excuse to keep looking at him. He wanted to do that again. Hell, he wanted it right now. He just wanted to go back and change what had happened. He could still hear Kendall's sad, angry and resigned tone in his head, along with the clash of loud music and laughter.
So casually cruel in the name of being honest . . .
Suddenly James froze, right in the middle of the street. Someone grunted and crashed into his back, muttering curse words in his direction as they walked on. Logan stared up at him, frowning. Somewhere in the distant he heard him ask, "What's wrong with you?" But all he could hear was another voice, singing a song he knew all too well, and the sound of an acoustic six string. Without thinking about what he was doing, James gripped Logan's arm and hurried forward, ignoring the shorter's loud protests of how James was squeezing his arm and where the heck were they going anyway.
He saw the black guitar case on the ground before he saw him. Kendall stood there, dressed in his usual winter gear; minus his scarf, of course. He also wore black gloves n his hands that were cut off at the fingers as his fingers played the strings of the guitar like he'd been a natural all his life. He was singing, voice full of that tireless energy that the people seemed to enjoy, and paid him generously enough for, keeping that Christmas spirit in tow. But James could see that his mind was elsewhere. He'd grown to know that expression like the back of his hand.
Right now Kendall was taking a break, just strumming a little instrumental in his song, breath puffing out in white smoke from between his lips. James stumbled over, leaving Logan behind and a good distance away. He dropped a five dollar bill into the case, hen he suddenly realised as he looked up, that he was standing right in front of Kendall. "Um . . ." He gave a nervous smile. "H-hi."
"Hi James," Kendall replied breezily, still strumming.
"How've you been?" James asked at last, watching the way Kendall tapped his foot on the ground to keep in time, then looked up again at how his brow was furrowed ever so slightly in concentration. Music was made for him.
"I've been okay," Kendall answered slowly, biting his lip and strumming a little slower and softer. "What about you?"
"I've been . . . well, um . . ." Clasping his hands together behind his head, James mumbled at last, "I miss you."
"Sorry?" Kendall said after one particularly loud and aggressive strum down. "I didn't catch that."
"N-nothing. I said," James glanced back at Logan who he could just about see through the crowds. He was looking at him sympathetically. "I said Merry Christmas," he finished lamely, looking back at Kendall. "Have a good one, I guess."
Kendall gave a small smile that immediately weakened James at the knees and made his heart flutter uncontrollably. "Merry Christmas to you too."
James just wanted to take Kendall in his arms and kiss him and beg him to take him back. But he couldn't. It was only then that he realised somewhere along the line, Kendall had stopped playing. The blond didn't seem to realise it at all. At last he cleared his throat, stepping back and offering a carefree grin. "Well, I'll let you get back to work. You're really good."
"Thank you." And with that, Kendall began strumming again and trying to remember where he'd left off.
He didn't seem to until James had turned away from him and was making his way down the street with Logan in tow. "You keep my old scarf from that very first week, 'cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me . . ."
"You can't get rid of it," Kendall sang, and as James glanced back at him with an agonising burn in his chest, he felt as though the blond were crying out to him. But of course, if he really was, he would've done it in words. He would've made himself clear. He was never the type to just hint at what he wanted. And James loved that about him. It was one of the things he missed most.
"James, come on," Logan said softly, tugging at his sleeve. "It's no use watching him, okay? It's not going to help you."
The only person that could help him felt a million miles away. James tried to say this, but all that came out was a tiny pathetic whisper. All he could say was, "I miss him."
"When I loved you so, back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known."
"I know you do," Logan said a little louder as to take James' attention away from Kendall and back to him. "But you need to think rationally, and you can't do that here and now. Let's go back to your place, okay? I'll drive."
James sighed at last, body slumping as he slid his hands into his pockets. "Okay, fine." He left Kendall behind, singing about what could have been.
Back in his living room, Logan sat him down on the couch and slumped down next to him. "So, that's what he looks like. I've been wondering," he said with a light chuckle.
"Yeah," James said softly, sighing wistfully to himself.
"He does look a lot like Shay. Only Shay is more . . ."
"Polished?"
"Yeah. I guess that's the word I'd use. Does Shay think so?"
"If you asked, he'd probably say he was much prettier. He's not exactly president of the Kendall Knight fan club."
"No, I don't suppose he would be." Logan shot a slightly disapproving glance on the door, where he assumed Shay lurked somewhere else in the house.
Then James groaned, hands raking though his hair. "I just miss him like crazy, and there he was right in front of me. I'm such an idiot. I could've at least asked him how Merlin was doing!"
"Merlin?" Logan's brow furrowed in confusion. "Who's Merlin, a friend of his?"
"No," James replied, chuckling a little fondly. "He's his monster cat. He needed spinal surgery, I think it was pretty serious."
"Oh god, that's terrible," Logan gasped, looking pained. He's always been a big lover of cats, any shape or size. "Still, I guess living in the city comes with the risk of accidents like that . . . did the driver offer any help at all?"
"Driver?" James echoed. He shook his head quickly, "No, Logan, that's not it at all. There wasn't a car accident or anything. He got attacked by a dog."
"A dog." The statement was pointed, somewhat sarcastic. Logan's bottom lip jutted out as he clasped his hands together on his lap, clenching his lips together before blowing out a puff of air in a resigned tone and saying, "James, a dog couldn't have done that."
James just stared at him blankly.
Looking him right in the eye, Logan delved into his vast back of medical knowledge and continued in a patient but slightly worried tone. "You see, a dog attacks a cat to kill it, otherwise all it does is chase it a little and bark. I know that much from when I had cats and dogs growing up. A dog goes for the neck if they want to kill something. If anything, it would've snapped Merlin's neck. There would've been a lot of blood, it would've killed him. He couldn't have just damaged a cat's spine without hurting anything else, or without killing it."
"I . . ." James suddenly felt this already devastating facade crumbling into something stranger, and much worse. "Are you sure? Why would he lie to me about that if Merlin got hit by a car?"
"I don't know. Maybe . . ." Logan sighed. "Okay, this is gonna sound crazy, and you might get mad, but . . . look. What if it wasn't a dog, and it wasn't a car?"
"What else could it have been?"
"Well . . . Shay."
"What?!" James gaped at him, outraged. "Logan, Shay would never do that! He's too sweet! What's wrong with you?!"
"Hey, listen," Logan snapped. "Just hear me out. He doesn't like it when you mention Kendall."
"Yeah, so?"
"That's not the point here. Listen." Logan's hands clasped tighter. "Okay, I'll explain it like this. Shay only has one purpose in his life. There is one reason he was created. What is that?"
Feeling like he was in kindergarten again. James answered slightly uncertainly. "To be my boyfriend."
"Exactly. Now, someone has come along and is threatening to take that away from him."
"But I'm sure he knows Kendall doesn't mean to . . ."
"James, don't you see? That's irrelevant!" Suddenly Logan's hands were gripping his shoulder and he was shaking him. "I swear, if I only had one reason to be alive and someone tried to take it from me, I would not be happy! Would you?"
"No."
"What would you do?"
"Well, I'd . . ." Suddenly it dawned on him. "I'd want them out of the way," James whispered. "I'd hate them for it."
"You would, wouldn't you? You'd want them out of your way no matter what."
"Yeah, I would."
"Now, picture that you don't feel any morals or any emotions that aren't related to this life purpose you have. For instance, Shay feels nothing but love and devotion to you. He feels no positive emotions for anybody else. He has no morals in relation to anybody else."
It was piercing together, how Shay had initially given off a threatening vibe when Carlos and Logan first met him. Those sudden moments when his eyes turned hard and steely and James felt very much afraid of him, if even for a millisecond before that look was gone again. But it had definitely been there and he was only just starting to realise that. "Logan . . ." James took a deep breath, letting it out in an exhausted sigh. "Shay hurt Merlin, didn't he?"
"I think so, James."
"Because he's jealous of my relationship with Kendall."
"He really is."
"Because I love him." This was said with a new spark, a different certainty that he'd never spoken those words with before.
"Do you? You're sure about this?"
"I really do. And yeah . . . I'm sure. And you know me, I'm never sure."
"Then you need to tell him."
"I don't know how."
"If you do really love him, it'll come to you."
"I guess it will." James gave a mournful sigh. Part of his heart felt heavy, but he knew that soon he would be happy again, he hoped. "I have to get rid of Shay first."
"You can call the ACC and they'll take care of it."
"He'll be scrapped."
"I know."
"I . . ." James sniffled, embarrassed by this overpowering affection part of him still felt for Shay. "Do you think it'll hurt him?"
"No. In fact, he'll probably be deactivated when it happens. He won't even notice."
"Okay . . ."
Logan picked up James' phone from the coffee table and handed it to him. "Here, go make the call."
James nodded, slowly getting to his feet. "Thanks Logan."
"No problem, James." Logan grinned reassuringly up at hm. "This whole thing will work out, okay?"
James nodded again, leaving the room and walking into the kitchen. He checked all around in every possible hiding place to make sure it was empty. Then he checked once more and closed the door carefully behind him. Hurrying over to the bottom drawer next to the fridge, where he kept takeout menus and manuals on the kitchen appliances, he slid open the drawer to see Shay's manual lying on top. The pages were neat, the lack of usage clear at first glance. He picked it up and saw the ACC's phone number written in the bottom left corner. He punched it in, his thumb aching slightly and his whole hand shaking a little. Kendall's hands always shook; he wondered if they were this much of an inconvenience to him as they were to James right now. But thinking about Kendall made his heart pound and every inch of him ache, so he pushed those thoughts aside hurriedly and pressed the button to dial, holding the phone up to his ear and waiting. He walked to the kitchen counter and stood by it, eyes firmly on the door.
It rang quite a few times before anybody answered. Naturally, this gave him more time to panic and wonder if he was doing the right thing. But then, mercifully, somebody picked up at last. "Absolute Companionship Co.! What can I do for you?" a peppy male voice sounded over the phone.
James' heart pounded and he gripped the counter slightly. Oh god, here we go . . ."Um, h-hi. My name is James Diamond. I bought a Lover back in September. I want to return it."
"Oh, that's too bad!" The man on the other side's voice took on a slightly condescending the as he added, "You know if it's been used you can't get any money back for it."
James flinched at the word 'used', no need to ask what he meant by it. "I know that. But I don't want him anymore, and he has to go somewhere."
"No problem, sir. I'm going to need the ID of your Lover so I find your purchase details, if you don't mind."
"The ID?"
"It's a combination of numbers and letters, sir. It should be taped to the inside of your manual."
"My manual, right . . . okay, just a second." He picked it up, reaching over to press his phone to his near again as he opened the front cover and read out the ID. It felt so strange; as though he was looking at a copy of Shay's birth certificate. The proof and details of Shay's birth were nothing but a combination to be entered into a computer and saved in a database. Like the license plate on his car.
"Thank you! We'll deactivate your Lover on arrival, then we'll take it back to the plant with us."
It. Stop calling him it. "Okay. And, um, when will that be?"
"Unfortunately, sir, this is our last working day before Christmas vacation. Our products are never very popular until after the holidays when people wanna use their gift cards and such. During the vacation people tend to go more for the ILC. You know, Instant Lovers?"
"Oh, y-yeah." Live sex dolls. Merry Christmas to you too. "So, when can you come and pick him up?"
"We re-open on the 26th, and I'll call you when I've got a pickup time for the Lover. That sound okay?"
"I . . ." James sighed. "Alright, yeah. Thank you."
"No problem, sir! You have a good holiday!"
"You too . . ." James hung up the phone, sighing. He placed it down on the counter, slumping onto a stool and smacking his lips together. Now he just had to wait. But he couldn't wait until Shay was gone before he tried to get Kendall back. He just couldn't.
That was when he suddenly spotted what was on the kitchen counter. Or rather, what wasn't there. That tall glass with Kendall's sunflower inside it had vanished. He frowned, getting to his feet and heading towards the kitchen door. He opened it up. "Shay!" he called as loudly as he should.
Only a few seconds later Shay hurried down the hallway towards him, an angelic and innocent smile on his pretty face as always. "What is it, Jamie?" he purred, fingers slightly trailing up James' arm.
James glanced back at the counter, before looking back at Shay and keeping a careful eye on his expression. "What happened to the sunflower that was on the counter?"
And there it was. That ever so slight darkening look. If he blinked he would've missed it entirely. "Oh, I threw that away. I didn't think you'd want it anymore."
"Why did you think that?"
Shay rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around James' neck and pecking his lips. "Because, Jamie," he said in a tone that was both sweet and very patronising, "He upped and ditched you, why would you want to be reminded of him? You only need me. Besides, he was just a dumb kid anyway."
"He's nineteen."
"A child, Jamie. You don't need him in your life, he's nothing." Shay kissed him again, giving a teasing smile. "Besides, I'm Kendoll, remember? So just him, only less trashy and so much better for you."
James just nodded, nuzzling his cheek against Shay's briefly before saying, "Okay, you're right. How about you go in and sit with Logan and I'll bring us in some drinks?"
Shay did as he asked and left the room. James immediately hurried over to the trash can, opening it up and glancing inside. Among little pieces of leftover food and peelings and other things, he saw the flower. Only it had been ripped into several pieces, only recognisable now as a pile of paper and plastic. He let the lid of the trash can drop down against with a clang. Clenching his jaw slightly, he went to grab a beer for himself and for Logan. He may have done a lot of stupid things over the last few months. He may have said some bad things and made some shitty choices. But at least now, he knew what he wanted. He just had to figure out how to get it back, and make sure he never lost it again.
As he slumped down later on, alone in his room full of musical instruments, he remembered how Kendall had looked that day out on the street. He'd looked unhappy, maybe because of what had happened between them. Most likely because of that, in fact. But he also recognised that there were only one or two times throughout their relationship that he'd ever seen Kendall look so alive, and so free. He wanted to be able to see him like that again.
It was rare, I was there. I remember it all too well.