Hey my sloth friends! Did you miss me? Are you glad I'm updating? I had a pretty eventful holiday - I creamed my brother at games of pool and ping-pong but lost badly in a game of adventure mini-golf because I kept on whacking the ball out of bounds.
So anyway, this prompt is from one of my favourite authors on FF, Anonymous Skrtle who asked simply for a piece of Carlos angst. I'm really sorry if it's not good, it's just I haven't read many stories about Carlos, especially not ones with angst. Just be gkad that I didn't try and make you go all sympathetic with me by saying that I have serious jet lag from the plane journey.
Unable to believe what he was reading, Carlos scrolled further through Twitter. He couldn't understand what he had done wrong. Why did all of these people hate him? Someone had even set up a Twitter account in favour of all of the Carlos haters. He hadn't bothered with hate earlier on in his career. He'd usually brush it off of his shoulder and say to himself that they were just jealous. It was when people he didn't even know would come straight up to his face and tell him he was scum that he started to take it seriously. He stopped eating, he stopped drinking, he stopped being his usual hyper self. He even stopped pullikng his trusty helmet onto his head, a sign that he was extra depressed.
His best friends didn't notice, but who would when your boss gives your four gruelling hours of harmonies, four more hours of dance routines and three hours and fifty minutes of recording. The other ten minutes were spent being lectured on what they had done wrong. The guys hated it, even if it did make them famous. James was the one who really, really wanted to be a singer and he had been mortified when he was turned down by Gustavo. Kendall was accepted though, but he wasn't going to go forward with it without his best friends. So they were flown from small Minnesota to grade-A Los Angeles to become stars. Carlos was extremely excited at first, but was starting to regret making the large decision when they got further into the contract. Some of the hate wasn't even about his singing; people discriminated his race and tormented him about being fat. The truth was, Carlos wasn't at all overweight. Haters would go to extreme limits to make people unhappy, and that was certainly what they were doing to Carlos. He didn't look in the mirror and see the happy person he saw before it all started. He saw a fat, ugly and worthless Latino who couldn't sing a lick. And it was killing him.
Carlos had read about people who cut, and he didn't like it. But when you were tied down to nothing else, it was pretty tempting. He was sitting in the bathroom with the razor blade glaring at him menacingly. Carlos couldn't tear his eyes away. He knew it was bad, but what else was there? He picked the sharp object up cautiously, as if it would pounce on him and attack his face before he made his decision. He lowered it down to his wrist - his thin, thin wrist - and began to drag it through the skin. He wasn't going to lie; it felt quite good. It stung for a second at first, but it was rather relieving when he stopped to think about it. And he carried on each evening, sneaking off into the bathroom while his friends had passed out from exhaustion in their rooms. He didn't dare tell them. Otherwise, Kendall would start a giant feud with the haters - which wouldn't be good for their career at all - and Logan would give him a huge lecture about how bad it was and just make him feel worse.
It wasn't until Carlos began distancing himself from absolutely everyone and not saying a word that the guys noticed. Logan was the first to realize, and he turned to Kendall immediately. Kendall always knew what to do in those kind of situations. He watched Carlos like a hawk for the entire evening with great suspicion in his emerald eyes. He eyed Carlos as he absent-mindedly trudged into the bathroom and locked the door. Kendall bent down so he was flat on his stomach and he watched through the crack of the door right at the bottom. Nothing happened for a while, but soon enough, drops of crimson blood could be seen cascading down Carlos' arm and dropping onto the white tiled floor. Kendall shot to his feet, hurried to Katie's room, picked up one of her butterfly hair clips and hurried back to the door. He was able to pick the lock easily and the door swung open, revealing Carlos huddled in a ball next to the sink. Kendall knelt next to him and called the other boys in. They gasped in horror when they arrived, but fell into a four-way hug. They mumbled comforting things into Carlos' ear. Nothing much else.
And Carlos stopped. He ignored the hate. He was happy again, with his three best friends by his side wherever he went.
Such a cheesy ending again! Ah well, that was pretty weird to write to be honest. POOR CARLOS :(. But seriously, if you do hate a celebrity, don't go wasting your time by tweeting them and telling them how worthless they are. Why don't you just go and look at someone or something you like? I'm not a fan of Justin Bieber but you don't see me going and commenting on every single YouTube video he has and discriminating his work. It's good what he's doing, he's making his fans happy. I just don't really like him so don't kill me, please!
I hope you liked it, guys, and I'll see you next update.
Sloth xoxo
P.S. I have decided on my full story plot! I'm sorry to say that it wasn't any of the ones you guys suggested, but I think you will like what I have planned out. Thanks to ArmyLilSis for being a regular reader and commenting on what my story could be about, and verry berry 33 for suggesting as well xx
