"Do you like yourself Logan?" James asked while pulling Carlos closer; though it was not the point, Logan was starting to get frightened that the Latin boy might actually have a concussion.
"Well, I've never really thought about it," Logan stated simply, slightly thrown by the question. What could this have to do with James?
The brunette had an inkling of what this could be, but he refused to face it head on; this couldn't be. It just simply couldn't be.
"Yeah you have," the taller boy responded, his eyes glued on Carlos and not the person he was talking to, "We all have. Everyone has. So I'll ask again; do you like yourself?"
"Well, that's a rather difficult question to answer and it's also really personal," Logan said slowly, making sure to annunciate every word possible, "I just met you James, you expect me to answer?"
"You swore to me that you wouldn't tell,"
"But I didn't swear to always answer,"
"Please, I just need to hear this," The tanned teen pleaded, his eyes still never lifting off of Carlos, "Please. I'm begging you. Give me this. Please."
Against every rational thought Logan was having about the situation, he made an important decision; he decided to tell James the truth.
There was something about the way that James sounded so desperate; there was something about the vulnerability he saw in James even though the taller boy was cradling his brother.
And so Logan did it; he mustered up every ounce of strength in his body and he started to confess what James wanted to hear, making every word he said important.
"No," Logan started, crossing his legs and slowly sitting back in his chair, "But I'm very different from you James; I have reasons I get to hate myself. And this is where you get to swear. I'm going to tell you a secret that you can never tell. Ready?"
"Yeah," James replied, finally looking up and facing Logan, their eyes finally locking, "I swear on my life, I'll never tell. As long as I live. Just tell me."
"James," the brunette responded, his stomach turning itself into a million different knots while he sat there, "James, I'm a hooker. I'm a prostitute. Escort. Whatever you call it, it's what I am. I've been doing it for a few years now and its one of those things that I'm beyond ashamed of. But just cause I'm ashamed doesn't mean I don't reap the benefits."
"Are you …." James was obviously searching for the right response but couldn't find it, "Are being …. Serious?"
"Yes, I'm being entirely serious and see that boy in your arms," the shorter teen pointed over at Carlos, still wrapped in the tanned boys muscular arms, "he knows nothing about it. And he never will. He's not allowed to because if he did, he would never let me continue doing it and I do it just for him. When I ran away with him-,"
"You ran away?"
"It's a really long story, but yes, we ran away from our last foster home. And that's when I started turning tricks. As soon as we got on the road. The family we were with was obviously not going to send us to college and I decided to take matters into my own hands."
"By hooking?"
"Yes; when I go out and sell myself, he gets to go to school and that's all that matters because he deserves to live that life. He deserves to be happy and meet a man and do all those things that normal people do and if it means that I have to do things with someone at the end of the day that's illegal, well, it's better than selling drugs."
The brunette sat up a little and chuckled at that, deciding this was the time he was allowed to do that. He genuinely didn't care if James laughed too because that was one of the only redemptions that he could let himself have; what he did was bad but it could be worse. A lot worse.
"I'm …. I'm so sorry. But that's so beautiful. It's bizarre and beautiful at the same time that you could love this boy so much that you're willing to do that for him. That you're willing to give him a better life by destroying your own. But that doesn't fully answer my question Logan."
"I was hoping you wouldn't catch that; I guess I have to finish now," Logan took a deep breath before finally continuing his story to the finish; "All those things make me hate myself though. Because every time I look in the mirror, I see every person I've slept with. I see all the pain in my life. I see jealousy because I want what I give him. And I hate that. I hate that I'm a horrible person. I hate the people I've hurt. I hate it all. I hate me."
"I'm sorry," the tanned teen responded, petting Carlos's hair, "I'm just so sorry."
There was a stale silence that filled the air after James finished and the brunette desperately wanted him to start his story; after all the truth he had just shared, he thought he deserved a little in return.
He wanted to know what the tanned boys deal was. Why was he here? Why was he so sympathetic? Why did he follow him up?
There were so many questions that the smaller boy was ready to ask and yet he couldn't and every reason for that was carefully thought out. And at the very top of that list was this; he wanted the truth.
If he was too forward about it he would scare James off, but it was possible that if he never asked, the taller boy would never tell.
So nursing the cold glass of water in his hands, Logan started to think and plan out all the ways this could and would go down. He was finding out. He wasn't going to have confessed something so deep for nothing. And if it meant fighting time, he would, but he was uncovering the answers.
In an odd twist of fate though, it was James who would spark the conversation in favor of Logan's interests.
"Hey Logan," the pop star said softly, brushing hair back with a quick finger while trying to not move the boy still asleep in his arms, "This is awkward, but what is his name exactly?"
"I never told you?" the shorter boy questioned, his eyes darting up immediately from where they were previously planted in the floor.
"Not really," the other boy responded quickly, "Or you did and I was looking in a mirror. Sometimes I just get myself."
Their eyes locked before James winked at Logan and he realized it was okay to laugh; if the brunette was learning anything tonight, it was that the tanned teen was no normal celebrity. He wasn't a bubble head in the slightest, which was actually Logan's fullest intention of him.
He seemed to know how he came off and how people perceived him to be, or misconceived rather, and James liked to play with people for that. At the current moment, his sudden found humility was sexier than his looks for the pale teen, but the true reasons for that went deeper than the few layers above surface.
It had to do with who it reminded him of; that sarcastic asshole humility that seemed to contradict while at the same time makes complete sense.
For a split second Logan could swear he felt that touch; the sweep of blonde hair against his face or the way his strong arms would constrict against the shorter boys chest after an intimate moment. And for the first time since the incident, Logan let himself have this.
He relished the moment for as long as it would last before finally letting himself slip out of the trance and come back into reality, and back to James examining Carlos.
"Hey you," James started, still looking the Latin boy over, "I thought you fell asleep."
"Nah, I just kinda need a minute," the hooker replied, sitting himself back up in the chair so he wasn't tempted to do that again. Or fall asleep. Either one would be bad at the current moment with Carlos injured.
"Cool … but seriously, I need to know his name so if you do fall asleep and he wakes up, I'll at least be able to call him something."
"His name is Carlos. Carlos Garcia-Mitchell. His last name is actually Garcia, but he took mine on cause he says that's what brothers do."
"That's actually incredibly sweet," the pop star commented, the corners of his lips curling slightly to reveal a tiny smile, "Do you do the same?"
"Yeah," Logan said with a smile, "He's my brother; it's what we do. If he wants me to have a piece of him in my name like he has in his, then I'll do it. I'd do anything for him."
"You really love him,"
"We've been through more together than most people can barely dream of happening to them. I think I love him more than I've loved any other human being. He's the only family I have. And I'm so glad that's how it worked out."
Logan flashed a lopsided grin at James, hoping that this could be his chance to finally get James to talk when he realized the other teen had tears strolling down his cheeks.
"Are you-," the brunette started, suddenly concerned about his guest.
"Yeah, I just ... I see how much you love each other and I hear what you give up for him and I ….. He hasn't said one word tonight and I know he loves you. I know it cause if you had done half those things for me, I know I'd love you. I've never in my entire life had a relationship like that."
"James, it's purely platonic; he's my brother, not my lover. It's not like we have some kind of relationship on that level, that's just … its sorta unthinkable. He's my little brother. I wouldn't-,"
"I didn't mean it like that," the pop star corrected, wiping tears as fast as he could, "it's just; I've never in my entire life had a relationship like that. I'm an only child. I never had a brother or a sister or even a fucking cousin to depend on. I had a few people that liked me because they knew my parents were rich and even they couldn't stand me. My whole life, I always felt different from everyone else and always hated that. All I wanted was to be normal; I wanted to have siblings and a dad who would cheer at my basketball games or a mom that would tuck me in at night and instead I would get the house keeper who was forced to stay up with me. Not once did I feel loved."
"You're parents loved you."
James peeled out a grim laugh, "You don't know how many times I used to tell myself that when I would go to bed. I used to whisper into my pillows that my mommy and daddy loved me, they were just too busy to say goodnight. I would tell myself to just wait; that the next day they were gonna wrap me in my sheets and turn my lights off for me. They were gonna tell me how much they loved me while kissing every square inch of my face they could find available. Instead of that, I would usually spend the nights with Brooke's face in a toilet, puking while cussing my father for cheating. I'll never forget how many fucking times I wiped stained mascara off her cheeks and then noticing the clots of vomit at the corners of her mouth. It was pathetic. And she always told me I was pathetic."
"That's …" Logan couldn't seem to capture the right words for the moment, "that's horrible."
"That's life," the tanned teen spat out, before calming himself, "cause secretly, the family that you're so jealous of; that perfect kid or that perfect couple, they're just as fucked up as anyone else. They're worse. They're just better at hiding it too."
James sat for a long time in silence while collecting his thoughts and emotions, leaving Logan there to nervously ponder what the tanned teen was currently indicating. It all went screaming one word. One frightening word. And the brunette refused to admit it, but he realized that if that word broke air, there'd be no denying it at all.
That thought was slowly scaring him more than anything else.
"The first real friend I ever had in my entire life was Kendall," the tanned teen's voice cut the quiet air again, shattering the previous stand still like broken glass, "he was the first person I could swear cared about me for me. He didn't care that I was talented or popular or rich, he cared about me as an individual trying to make it.
And I did my best to care about him, but I was such a little asshole I decided not to ever let him know. I decided to hide it. I knew that my presence kept him from getting bullied and that sufficed to me as caring; it kept him at a distance. Then I realized something; maybe I cared for Kendall a little more than just as my one honest friend.
So one night I called him, cause I was ready to confess how I felt about him and he was so eager and it was perfect and ... and …. And I was ready to have the one thing I wanted more than anything. I wanted someone to show me what love was. So I bought roses and got ready cause I just knew he liked me back, I just knew it would work and then I pulled up and started to question it. I started to question all of it.
What if he didn't like me? What if he liked another boy? What if he didn't even like boys? What if he only liked me for the same reason everyone else did? What if this changed things?
I saw his apartment and realized what I had to do; I through the flowers out of the car window, backed-up over them and drove away as fast as I possibly could. I didn't even call to cancel; I needed him to know that he didn't mean as much as he did. I was so fucking scared of being vulnerable that I destroyed him.
I regret that more than anything; after that he became like everyone else around me. He was shallow and artificial and an asshole; he was me in another body and I was disgusted. I realized that I had destroyed the last possible human being that could ever possible care about me and I saw the problem in Kendall. The problem is me. All of my problems root back to me.
They root back to the fact that I can't accept love. They root back to the fact that I can't accept that I'm gay. Or vulnerable. Or so many other things.
The moment I saw what I did to Kendall, I made a conscience decision that since I was the maker of all my problems, I'd also be the destroyer. Logan …."
Finally, James long story started to wind, but it was clear to the brunette that it also wasn't even slightly over. Because the tanned teen hadn't mentioned the key part of the story that he had been waiting for; why exactly was the pop star in his apartment. Why was he on the couch and why was he holding Carlos?
"James…" Logan began, responding to the other boy's last lingering word, "I need you to finish what you were telling me. Is that okay? Can you do it? Cause I need that from you."
"Logan," the tanned teen picked back up, "I've been trying to kill myself since I saw what I did to my Kendall. He's not even mine anymore; he's this monstrosity I've created and I hate it. I hate every second of it. I hate that I care about him. I hate that I even feel anymore. And so I've been trying, for so many years now, to end the pain I create. And it's not easy. But as soon as I could tell he had moved on; that he cared so much about someone else, I found the strength. There was some guy he asked me to pick up for him and that became my inspiration to do what I've been waiting for."
"Oh," Logan responded before looking back at the water he had in his hands.
"Yeah, I mean, he had come so far without me and I saw that with me gone, maybe he could even be happy; who ever this boy was, he made Kendall smile again. He gave him life I haven't seen in years. I mean, he even had Kendall embracing the fact that he likes boys; whoever he was, he taught Kendall things I thought I had destroyed in him. And it made me unbearably happy. So happy that I saw that this was the way I needed to go. Happy.
I was gonna get the guy for him, take him to were Kendall wanted me too, and then go end myself. I was just gonna drive off into a lake and let my car take me deep down into the dark. And I failed at that too. I fucking failed. I gave up and decided to drown myself in sex like usual with the first person I saw. I even called him a 'fag'; I haven't ever called him that. But it's just …. I can't do it anymore. I needed this all to end. And yet, when you rejected me, it made me see something; you love someone like he does obviously.
That boy you were telling me about; you still have feelings for him and I can't possibly get in the way of that. It's simply too beautiful. By turning me down, you brought me back to life. You showed me, with one single act, that there was more than just sex and looks and money. So I came up because … I'm scared that the moment I'm alone again, I'll do it. I'm afraid of myself. And for some reason, being with you makes me feel less alone. I don't know you for crap and I still feel better."
"But …"
James let out a disturbing chuckle, "but I'm not even welcome. That's how pathetic I am. I invited myself in, dumped all my problems on you, and I'm not even welcome. I'm sorry."
All of the sudden the tanned teen rose from place on the couch and laid Carlos's head down gently on a pillow before grabbing his coat.
"I'm just so sorry," he repeated, turning to face the brunette, stone still in his seat, "I should have never come."
But what happened next shocked both of them; what happened next was entirely unexpected. What happened next changed the game completely.
"Wait," a different voice choked out quickly, away from the two boys exchanging glances, "Don't go James. Please don't go. I want you here. You're invited to stay, just don't go."
Both of the brunettes turned sharply to see a tired Carlos rise from his comfortable spot on the couch onto his elbows, facing the duo.
"Please don't leave me," the Latin boy continued, "I love you. I don't even know you and I know I love you. Because what I heard tonight was possibly the most beautiful thing I've ever heard; that you care so much about him that you'd be willing to die for his happiness. Please, James, don't leave."
There was quiet while Carlos readjusted himself entirely, swinging his legs off of the couch and standing up, before slowly trudging over to were the tanned teen was standing.
"Please don't go," the younger brother repeated, before slowly wrapping his arms around James, "I want you here and that's all that matters."
James quickly wiped his moist cheek before he slammed his arms around the smaller Latin boy and drew him close, a huge smile spreading across his face.
"Yeah, okay," the pop star gave in, hugging the other boy close, "let me just call someone and I'll stay. I'll stay all night if you'd let me."
"Yeah," Logan finally interrupted, grinning while staring at his brother and the singer, "yeah, why don't you stay all night."
Giddily, James went off into a corner of the smaller apartment and pulled out his cell phone, Carlos watching from close behind, and he scrolled through his contact list as fast as possible. Finally he found the number he was searching for and punched it as fast as he could, praying he got voicemail.
Apparently god heard his pleas.
"Hey Kendall," the tanned teen started after the beep, "I'm not going to be home tonight. Sorry. I couldn't find the girl either. Maybe another time. I just wanted to let you know so you didn't wait up or anything; if you need me, just call me on my cell. Kay, bye."
James slammed the phone shut before sliding back over to the Latin boy who was leaning against the wall, and slowly they started talking, easing into subject by subject. Neither slept that night. They stayed up and talked as much as they could; the next day, James stayed with them at the flat and Carlos skipped his classes, opting to spend as much time with the pop star as possible.
And for the second time In James entirely life, he felt loved again; loved by a person he barely knew; and yet after those long hours together, the tanned teen felt like he'd known Carlos forever. With that, his previous thoughts of death had completely exited his thoughts. Now he had reason again. Now he had Carlos.
For Kendall, it was a different story; he avoided the tanned teens phone call after his burning words with all he could, knowing that it was just going to be a drunk misdial that would end up getting him told off.
The blonde was simply not up for it, but after long enough, he got curious and snatched his phone from the table, slamming his fingertips down on the buttons as fast as possible to get to his ex-friends message.
"Hey Kendall," the tanned teen started, his voice sounding slightly different, "I'm not going to be home tonight. Sorry. I couldn't find the girl either. Maybe another time. I just wanted to let you know so you didn't wait up or anything; if you need me, just call me on my cell. Kay, bye."
The pop star was in shock after hearing that; not only was their not one insult contained in it, but he also sounded sober. And like he gave a damn. And those two things combined brought a smile to his face, a smile that broke the long somber tone it had take from the early conversation.
But then he remembered the part about not finding the girl, the girl being Logan and his heart re-broke again, thinking of his lost chance with the boy he liked so much.
Slowly, he lowered his head into the cushions of the plush couch and let the tears form rivers down his face when he thought of another painful night with Logan, the only thing he felt like he had left. He had lost him.
And without Logan, Kendall started to question his will to live; he needed to see that boy again, no matter what. He needed closure. He needed one last look into those beautiful chocolate brown eyes.
Then he could be no more.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for sticking with me; I know I've been so inconsistent. Sorry. But I hope you'll review and tell me what you thought, because those drive me. They keep me inspired to continue. Thank you so much. This story is truly dedicated to every one of you readers. You all mean the world to me. Luv ya. XoXo.