A/N: Long chapter ahead…have fun!
Ooh, by the way—
WARNING(s): This one gets a tiny bit graphic in a short scene about ¾ through. Depending on how sensitive/squeamish you are, you may want to proceed with caution. It may not be all that bad, but it's really hard for me to judge objectively after the desensitization of writing multiple takes :P So, just a little heads-up ;)
…moving on!
Disclaimer: I'm not making a profit by writing this story.
Face Value
Chapter 11: Reassurances
James peered up through his bangs, scowling at Carlos who leaned across the table, inches from his face, fish sticks crammed into his nasal cavities.
"Oh, cheer up, James!" Kendall wheedled. "You've been bummed ever since we left the studio. What gives?"
James ignored him, focused on the spoon in his fingers as he whisked it back and forth, rippling his uneaten bowl of tomato soup.
Logan took another bite of macaroni, then raised his fork into the air, swallowing before he spoke.
"So what if Gustavo's not letting you sing right now," He pointed the fork at James, before spearing more of the curved noodles, "you're gonna be kicking our butts at the new dance moves."
James dropped the spoon, letting it clatter into the bowl. Logan had no idea. None of the guys did. Sure, they could be blasé. No one had made fun of them today, or treated them like a freak, or stolen their dreams right out from under them. And they hadn't heard their own best friends, the ones who swore they never wanted fame in the first place, heartlessly succeeding at those life-long dreams without them.
"The only thing anybody i'th going to be kicking i'th ME—outta the band—Becau'th obviou'thly, YOU DON'T NEED ME!" James pushed away from the table, while the other three stared back at him, totally thrown by his sudden, livid outburst.
James' tense stance became lax then, his anger diminished to a more forlorn state just as quickly as it had come. His arms dropped to his sides as he turned away from the other three; then sulked over to the living room area, sinking into the couch. The rest of the boys leapt up from the table and followed, forgetting about their dinner.
James stared ahead with blank eyes, his chin in his hands. "I'm no good anymore." He stated, flatly, mumbling against his palm. "I mean, look at me," he jerked a finger towards his mouth, pointing at his twisted, achy teeth. "I can't th'ing—" He began, only to cut himself off, clamping his lips together in frustration. He shook his head sourly, and coughed out a bitter little laugh, "Th'ee? I can't even talk right." He huffed, gazing down at the floor. "…I'm ju'th holding you guy'th back,"
"James, c'mon. You are not holding us back." Kendall asserted, sitting down beside him on the orange sectional. Carlos and Logan both sat too, silent behind their anxious expressions as Kendall continued.
"We would have never made it to Hollywood without you. This is your dream, James." Kendall replied. He clapped James on the knee, "You're the reason Big Time Rush even exists."
Logan and Carlos nodded, agreeing with their leader's reassuring words. James' lips tightened again and he closed his eyes; squeezing them shut a moment before looking back up desolately at Kendall.
"No." James countered, voice soft. Hazel eyes pierced green. "The only reason we made it here is becau'th they wanted you."
Kendall stared back at James mutely, the hurt in his friend's eyes draining him of all possible words. And James continued.
"Which is exactly why they'll have no problem repla'thing me." James crossed his arms, breaking free from Kendall's distressed stare to fall back into the couch. "It's just a matter of when and who." He sighed, and picked up one of Katie's magazine's from the coffee table, flipping through the glossy pages. "Take any one of the'th dime-a dozen, pop-star, teen idols…" James sniffed, laughing sadly, "Ha. Ju'thin Bieber, maybe." He pulled out the centerfold; thumped the picture with his knuckles, "That'd work."
"Ooh! Dak Zevon!" Katie squealed suddenly, popping up behind the couch with the latest issue of Pop Tiger. "They should pick Dak Zevon—he is SOOO h—"
"—KATIE!" Kendall, Logan, and Carlos shouted.
"…not as cool as you, James." She quickly amended. "Um, I love you?"
"No." James mused. "You're right, Katie. Dak Zevon should replace me…After all, he's almos'th as good looking as I…was'th…wahhhhhhhh!" He squeaked then threw his head back; crying dramatically.
Carlos reached over immediately, wrapping his arms around his best bud. He pulled James' head into his shoulder, patting the boy's hair comfortingly.
Kendall and Logan shot Katie a look. She stared at James stunned; seemingly frozen in place where she stood, unconsciously dog-earring the magazine in her small hands.
Kendall scooted back around, "No one is going to replace you, James." He laid his hand on James' shoulder, trying to soothe his friend who was sniveling into Carlos' soft, purple polo. "You're the only teen heartthrob this band needs. They'd be idiots to replace you. How else are we gonna do the new song, huh?—Nobody can do vocal runs like you. Especially not Justin Bieber."
"Plus, we still have five whole weeks until the tour," Logan added. "You'll have your teeth fully repaired in two, then have three more left. Plenty of time to master the new tracks."
"And you've already got the dance moves down," Kendall encouraged, giving his bud a friendly shake. "You've got nothing to worry about here, James!"
"Yeah," Carlos shrugged, releasing James so he could sit up. "You got the song on mp3 and the lyric sheet. You practically know everything already!"
James looked thoughtful, straightening up. "I guess you guy'th are right." He admitted, rubbing at his nose. "Thank'th."
Katie broke free from her stupor, walking over as the lanky teen dried his eyes and stood up. "I'm sorry, James. I didn't mean to upset you." She hugged his middle and he laughed, bending down to embrace her.
"Aw, that's okay, Katie." He shook his head, smiling slightly. "It's not your fault." James patted the little girl's back gently, giving her a little squeeze before releasing her. He flopped back down, sighing heavily then. "It's ju'th been a bad day."
"At least it wasn't a-bad HAIR day!" Carlos jumped on him, roughing up his perfect mane.
"AH! My HAIR!" James shrieked, slapping at Carlos before the Latino grabbed his trusty helmet and ran off, "Carlos'th! You get back here!" He leapt off the couch, starting after him when his chest slammed into Kendall's open palm.
"Okay…" Kendall stepped in, diverting James before he could maul Carlos. "I have a better idea. Let's go out for smoothies. That should make us all feel better." He lowered his arm from James' chest and quickly slipped it around his shoulders; still holding him back, but in a more friendly-looking way.
Logan shrugged. "Sounds good to me." He looked to the guys and Katie.
"Smoothies!" Carlos shouted, sliding down from the safety of the balcony.
"Yeah?" Kendall looked to James as he relaxed, nodding agreement. "Awesome, let's go."
They headed toward the door but James fell behind. Logan turned back, hand on the doorknob, "You coming, James?"
James whipped his lucky comb out of his back pocket. "Yeah," he called, running up to the full-length mirror by the yellow swirly slide. "You guy'th go ahead; I'll be there in a th'econd."
Logan rolled his eyes, laughing to himself. Of course, James. You would have to fix your hair for something as trite as smoothies! "Okay," he answered, stepping into the hallway, "But if you take too long, we're giving yours to Carlos."
James pulled the comb through his hair, working around his head. He smiled at his handsome reflection; grooming always made him feel awesome. But the smile quickly faded when his lips spread wide, revealing the tangled mess underneath. He lowered his comb; turning away as the days' sadness came crashing back down on him.
The rude comments and mean jokes from people that morning at school, the girl at the studio…that look on her face. Rejection stung so bad. And then not being able to sing with the other guys—
He felt completely and utterly worthless.
"James," His head snapped up, looking around at the sudden sound of his name, but no one was in the apartment. "Behind you," He whirled around, and seeing nothing but himself standing in the mirror; turned right back around, hurriedly averting his eyes from the 'ugly' reflection. The voice let out a very masculine, annoyed sigh, "Oh, would you stop moping and come talk to me already?"
Okay, that voice was starting to sound very familiar now…his gaze drifted back to the mirror. "There ya go, buddy." It coaxed, "Now look up at me."
James obeyed, pivoting around to face the glass.
"Finally. Thank you." James' mirror alter-ego replied. James stared momentarily, about to answer with a 'Your welcome' when realization struck him and he toppled backwards, totally stunned. He jumped up from the base of the swirly slide where he had landed, frantically pointing at the boy in the mirror.
"What? Huh? Hey—WHOA!" He pressed his hands against the surface of the mirror, looking back and forth from it to himself in stunned wonderment. He patted his hands across his body and his head jerked back to the mirror. "How are you—me—I—us…you're me, how are you speaking so clearly? How am I—?—WAIT!" He gasped, "I can talk again!"
"We can sing too," James' deeper-voiced counterpart announced; adlibbing a little Smoky Robinson to demonstrate.
"How?" James exclaimed. He leaned into the mirror, hands on either side of the wall as he ogled at his unbelievably attractive, singing reflection.
"Don't you remember?" James asked himself, "You went to that 22 minute dentist Carlos uses all the time. Fixed everything right up. We look good too." His reflection smirked. "Go on—Take a look!"
James focused on the mirror, slowly bearing his teeth as he hazarded a glance. His lips peeled into a smile the second he did, and he stared back at two rows of perfect, pearly white teeth. No wires, no holes, no gaps. Just one glorious, beautiful, lady-killing smile!
His hands went up to his lips as he stepped back in astonishment. No. Freakin'. Way! And they told me I needed oral surgery…No way! He clacked his shiny teeth together, testing them, then stepped back up to the mirror for one more glance.
His eyes wandered over his restored image, taking in every inch of his exquisite face with sheer amazement. Joy swelled up inside of him until smiling was unavoidable.
"YES!" He laughed, spinning and posing; dancing and vogue-ing, for he didn't know how long. His friends and their smoothies were far from his mind at this point. He had his teeth back! Oh, he could have just made out with that mirror!—he smiled wider and wider, marveling at the pretty sight…until he felt a sudden crack, then came the deafening explosion…
And all at once, his perfect teeth shattered in his mouth; parts of them spilling out all over the carpet like a thousand tiny shards of broken glass. They pricked at his lips, needle-thin and sharp as razors; crunching, and digging into the bare gums until they brought blood. The rusty taste spread across his tongue, seeping out between his lips; while the free flowing crimson quickly began clotting with his ground up dental remains, filling his mouth with the sickening, viscous paste.
James' throat bubbled and he gagged and scrambled towards the door, falling hard on the metal handle and into the Palm Woods hallway, desperately trying to scream out for help, only to end up choking;—suffocating on a mouthful of chunky red sludge and the chalky, white powder residue that had once been his glorious smile.
"James! James!" Carlos shouted, "What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" The outline of his helmet shimmered in the pallor of moonlight, his wide, worried eyes gleaming in the dark, inches from James' face.
Light flooded the room and Logan stood there panting; hand on the light switch, Kendall beside him, his blonde hair tousled and sticking out all over his head. He rubbed his eyes, squinting from the sudden brightness.
As soon as they focused, their eyes shot directly to Carlos and James. James was upright in his bed, his whole body trembling violently, chest heaving with his ragged breaths. He clawed at his mouth, his wet eyes staring past them wild and unfocused; seemingly oblivious to Carlos who was right in front of his face, bent over him in panic.
"I don't know what's wrong with him!" The Latino cried, squeezing his helmet as Logan and Kendall sprinted over to the bed. The same instant Mrs. Knight came rushing down the hall, her house coat barely tied on.
"What's going on?" She demanded breathlessly, terror in her eyes as she bustled into the bedroom. Years of child-rearing experience let her understand exactly what had happened. She sped over to James immediately, gathering him up. Carlos and the other boys moved back, out of her way.
"Shhh…" Her soft hand cupped the back of James' neck, knotting her fingers in his hair as she held him. "Shhh…It was just a dream, just a dream, not real," she whispered, smoothing his hair, rubbing it down his sticky neck. "You're okay, James. It's okay…" She rocked him, gently. Moisture chilled her arms, soaking through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. She drew back and looked the shaken boy over, "Here, baby," She reached up, gently grasping his wrists, "you're going to chew your fingers off," she pulled his hands away from his mouth, slowly getting up. She patted the bed, indicating for the other boys to come closer and take over for a second. "I'll be right back," She replied softly, lilting past them through door.
"Take a deep breath, James. Try to slow down, you're gonna hyperventilate."
James could barely hear Logan over the pounding in his ears. His heart drummed in his chest, hammering painfully against his ribcage, a rapid-tempo cadence. His breaths came in quick, shallow puffs. Voices coached him again, and James tried his best to obey them, fighting through the fog of his dizzy, frenzied state.
He forced his lungs to fill, gasping in deep like a diver who had just broken the surface after being trapped under water; his burning eyes roaming the room. He could hear movement beside him as he began to make out the roomful of people surrounding him, their faces alert, their eyes laden with fright and concern.
Kendall rose from his crouch by the bed, releasing his gentle grip on James' tensing forearm as Mrs. Knight returned, washcloth in hand.
"What's wrong?" A drowsy Katie leaned against the doorframe, peering at James through sleepy eyes as her mom sat down on the bed beside him, wiping at the salty rivulets racing down her entrusted 'son's' damp cheeks.
"Nothing, Baby." She called over her shoulder. "Go back to bed, Katie."
Logan leaned against the wall, attentively watching Mama Knight take care of James. Kendall squatted on the edge of Carlos' bed. They were relieved to see James had relaxed slightly, slowly un-balling his fists and releasing the sheets from his white-knuckle grip. He gasped in and out steadily, putting forth a strenuous effort to calm himself down.
"Shhh…there you go, it's alright, James." Mama Knight rubbed the cold, beaded sweat from his brow, blotting the soothing cloth against his throat. "Poor thing, you're drenched." She mused, dabbing at the exposed part of his chest, just above his shirt collar. She lifted the moist fabric at his shoulders, frowning as it immediately slunk back, clinging to his skin. "We've got to get you out of this," Her weight shifted to move but Carlos was already digging through the dresser. She smiled despite her own tiredness, thanking him as he bounded back over with one of James' undershirts.
"Alrighty, Carlos brought you another shirt, James." She cooed sweetly, turning back to the boy who seemed to be in a calmer, yet still dream-like state. She held out her hands, "Trade?" She asked, pointing at his sweat-soaked tee.
James gazed up at her dazedly, trying to focus his tired, hazel eyes, and nodded. He grabbed the narrow hem at his waist, peeling the damp, gray cloth away from his clammy skin as he pulled the shirt off over his head. He took the fresh one from Mrs. Knight, tugging it on. He slid his arms and head through the soft cotton, taking in its subtle scent as his breathing finally steadied, his pulse gradually calmed. The clean, dry shirt felt divine, warm against his chest; and James found himself suddenly exhausted.
"There, that's better." Mama Knight straightened his t-shirt, smoothing it down, and checking him over once more. James' eyes blinked heavily, his cheeks were drained of their typically pink tinge; the teen looked ready to drop at any moment. She took his broad shoulders and eased him back down onto the bed before his head could loll into his lap. She pulled the covers over him, carding her fingers through his damp bangs, thankful as he finally settled and became peaceful. "Go back to sleep, rest James." She said quietly, placing a light kiss on his cheek. She picked up the sweaty shirt and walked to the door where Katie had slumped, scooping her daughter up before pushing the zombie-fied little girl down the hallway towards the hamper.
James felt his whole body uncoil, going limp and numb, sinking into the mattress as he listened to Mama Knight and Katie's footsteps retreating down the hall; the last sound he would remember hearing before slumber overcame him. He never knew just when or if the other guys had gone back to bed, or who exactly had turned the lights out.
You gonna be okay, Chanson? LOL…Please don't kill me!
Whooo! How many of ya'll did I get? Tell the truth now-
I was gonna do a cliffhanger at James' nightmare, but I figured that would have been too mean…So…have I earned a review? —Please?
They are, after all, the hand-mirror to my lucky comb! :)