.:Chapter Twenty-One – No Brains:.

Logan sighed as he rested his chin in his hands, staring at the notebook that was in front of him. "How can writing songs be so easy for Kendall but so hard for me?" He murmured, lightly shaking his head. "I mean, you just write about how you feel, and that's what I'm doing, but it's not helping me in the slightest."

He jumped at the sound of a knock on the door and quickly flipped his notebook shut, shoving it underneath his pillow. He straightened his bed before darting his eyes over to the door. "Uh, who is it?" He called.

"Camille," She called back. There was a lengthy pause. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," Logan replied and got up from his bed, taking a quick stock of his room, wincing when he saw how messy Kendall's was (and probably would always be). He took a breath before reaching out and grabbing onto the doorknob, pulling it open. "Hey Camille, what's u…"Logan trailed off as he got a good look at Camille.

Instead of her normal, girly look, she was dressed in black from head to do. A black jacket, a black tank top, a black studded belt, tight black jeans, and black shoes. But that didn't complete the look, her dark brown hair was styled so that it fell into her face and she was wearing black eye shadow, black eyeliner, and dark lip-gloss. She smirked at Logan as he continued to stare at her, her smirk growing wider as the seconds ticked by without him making a sound.

"So?" Camille pushed by Logan and walked into his room, turning around to face him as he slowly closed the door behind them. "What do you think?" She placed her hands on her hips. "How do I look?" She tilted her head to the side. "And don't think that I can't tell when you're lying."

"Uh," Logan slowly turned around to face her. He licked his lips, not sure what to say. His eyebrows rose when he noticed her stance. "You're wearing a lot of black." He finally managed to say. He made a face. "Are you doing another role? Do you have another audition you're going to?"

"Nope," Camille shook her head. "I had a role for a TV show that was going to take me back to Connecticut, but I turned it down." She gave a blasé wave of her hand. "It wasn't worth my time and why would I want to leave my friends?"

"But if it was the role of a lifetime, why would you-"

"And I didn't want to leave my boyfriend!" Camille interrupted Logan. She crossed the room to him until they were almost standing nose to nose and she gave a little pout. "You don't want me to take it and leave you, do you?"

"I-"Logan shook his head and grabbed onto his face with his hands. He wasn't sure what was going on, but it was starting to scare him. Camille never acted this way he she wasn't out of character. Wearing black wasn't her style and she was never really a mysterious person in the first place, always showing what she was feeling and how she was feeling as soon as she felt it. Logan took a few calming breaths, trying to make sense of everything, but it just made him even more confused.

"Logie-Bear," Camille moved his hands from his face and looked hard at him. "You didn't answer my question." She prompted. She took in Logan's blank expression and spoke slowly as she repeated it. "What do you think?" She motioned to her clothes.

Logan sucked his lips into his mouth, not sure what to say. But Camille could practically see every thought run through his head. She gave a sigh as she turned and walked away from him, moving her hair from her face. She wiped off the eye-shadow, only managing to succeed in smudging it around her face. She turned back around to look at Logan, a look of sadness in her eyes.

"It's not me, right?" She guessed.

"Well," Logan looked her up and down once more. "Not exactly," he agreed. "But I mean, you kid of blindsided me with it," he shrugged. "So maybe I just have to get used to it." He continued to look at her as she quietly tried to wipe the smudging make-up off of her face. What's going on? He asked himself as he watched her. I don't think that I've ever seen her like this before, something must be up. "Camille, is something wrong?"

Camille looked out the bedroom window down to the PalmWoods pool, watching as the kids below splashed around in the pool, happy and so carefree.

"I talked to WayneWayne yesterday," she said quietly. "And he really opened my eyes about something." She looked Logan right in the eye. "You like Rhuben, not me. You didn't want to hurt my feelings, especially since you knew how much I like you, and you decided to go out with me to try and forget her. But it didn't work." She motioned to her clothes. "So I had to see for sure, which one of us you really liked, and while you do have feelings for me, it can't compete with the history that you two share." She smiled a little as she slowly shook her head. "Nothing can ever beat history, right?"

Logan gave a half smile. While she was directly speaking of having history with someone, he also knew that she was referring to his somewhat obsession with school work as well as the fact that he could spout off random facts with little to no thought at all.

His smile faded as he looked away from her. "You don't hate me, do you?"

"That depends," Camille replied with a teasing lift to her voice. "Would you hate me for leaving you for my best friend?"

Logan shook his head. "No, it's like you said, you can't beat history." He looked at her again. "Can I at least have a hug to know that there's no hard feelings between us?"

"Of course," Camille moved forward and wrapped her arms around Logan's neck and hugged him tightly. "Besides, I could never hate you."

"That's good to know," Logan replied as he hugged her back. "Because your slaps are pretty hard as it is, if you hated me, I think you would actually be able to get away with killing me."

Camille laughed.

When Stephanie woke up mid-afternoon, after having stayed up the night before on a shoot, she left her room to find a few plastic red cups on the ground. She was a bit alarmed, but didn't completely fly off the handle. She had been out all night working on a set to help a friend from the PalmWoods School with a short film and went straight to her room when she had gotten home. It was possible that her father had had some friends over, but at the same time, it was very unlikely. Letting out a short sigh, she moved around, starting to pick up the cups, noticing that her father was gone.

Making her way into the kitchen, she was only slightly surprised to find someone asleep on the counter. Her frustration turned to full blown anger when she recognized Carlos lying on the counter, his arms dangling from the sides. Lowering her gaze, she noticed a wine bottle on the floor and her anger then turned to disgust. As much as she would have liked to deny it, she knew that Carlos was having drinking problems. Ever since she finally opened up to him about all of the hate she had been getting online, he had started to wake up later and later with a hangover that he was barely able to conceal. Stephanie was sure that Mama Knight knew about it, but wasn't sure how to talk to him about it. She was also sure that the other boys were covering for him, if they weren't too busy with their own problems. So she was the one that had to take care of him each time he came to her apartment in a drunken stupor.

It's amazing that dad hasn't said anything about him yet. Stephanie thought to herself as she shook her head, dumping the plastic cups into the trashcan. I guess he thinks that I can take care of it. Or it just hasn't hit him yet.

Stephanie reached out and shoved Carlos on the arm, but he just made a grunting sound in reply, slowly rolling onto his other side.

Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest. "Move," When that didn't wake him up, she used both hands to shove him off of the counter and onto the floor.

Carlos shot awake (at least as fast as a teenage boy with a hangover could). His bloodshot eyes turned towards her and he grunted again.

For a moment, Stephanie felt bad for him. But when she got a whiff of his breath, and took in his all too familiar position, she knew that he didn't deserve it. Reaching around him, she grabbed a cup and walked over to the sink. Turning the faucet on, she stuck the cup under the water, quickly filling it, before turning around and splashing the water over him. Carlos sat up and then groaned, holding his head in his hands. She then filled the cup once more and turned the faucet off, handing him the cup of water to drink. Carlos quickly drank all of the water, letting go of the cup and burping loudly.

The loud burp caused him to wince and hold his head in his hands. "Thanks, Steph" he whispered, "I needed that."

It's not the only thing that you need. Stephanie nodded in reply. "Can you get the fuck off of my floor?" She asked. It came out with more bite than she intended, but she was far past caring at this point.

"Oh. Sorry." He didn't move. She mustered up the best glare she could manage, and stared at him for as long as I could hold it. It still didn't work. "I'm sorry, Steph."

Stephanie tried again. "Please get out? I don't want to talk right now." He continued to look at her with his large, sad eyes. "Can you get the fuck out of here? Please?"

"Steph," Carlos whispered again. "I'm sorry for everything." Stephanie listened quietly, knowing that he wasn't finished, that he wanted to say what was on his mind. "I'm sorry for all of the hate that you're getting, I'm sorry for not being able to protect you like I want, I'm sorry that I don't spend as much time with you that you want because of the band, I'm sorry that you're getting the short end of the stick in our relationship." He paused. "I'm sorry I haven't introduced you to my parents yet." He seemed confused as he said the last part.

Stephanie was confused herself. They had never even talked about meeting each other's parents; sure, they had been dating the longest out of anyone at the PalmWoods, as they had been dating since the dance, a little over a year ago. He knew her father, since she lived with him in the PalmWoods. But he didn't know her brother or her mother; she didn't plan on taking him home with her for another year if not longer. So why did he bring it up now?

"You must be so ashamed of me," Carlos spoke up again, his voice still quiet. Stephanie moved to sit by him and he winced and jerked his head to the side as she dropped the cup to the floor. "Ouch," he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against his knees.

"I could never be ashamed of you, Carlos," Stephanie murmured as she rested her head against his shoulder. "But I'm really angry with you; I don't see why you started drinking, and I'm tired of having to take care of you and make excuses for you when something goes wrong because you're drunk."

"I know." Carlos said.

"No, you don't know." Stephanie shook her head. "I haven't been able to do anything besides work, because I've had to be around just in case I needed to stop you from hurting yourself." She lifted her head. "I've had to cover for you each and every time that someone asked what was wrong with you."

"The guys don't care," Carlos shook his head. "They haven't said anything, the Jacksons either, they've been avoiding me."

"Carlos, why do you think they've been avoiding you?" Stephanie insisted. "When you're drunk, they can't be around you or it brings up too many memories. Especially after you promised you wouldn't do it again." She pulled at her hair. "At least you didn't push me down again."

Carlos made another groaning sound, keeping his eyes closed. The two sat in silence for a while, just listening to each other breathe deeply. It was one of the few moments that they had gotten alone since the boys had started to work on their second CD, and they were going to make every minute of it last as long as possible. Carlos wrapped his arms around Stephanie's shoulders, holding onto her tightly.

"Carlos, promise me that you won't do this again?" Stephanie whispered. "I want you to be sober when we're hanging out with our friends. I don't want to give dad any reason to hate you." She nuzzled closer to his side. "I want things to go back to normal with all of us," she shook her head. "Even if it's one piece of drama at a time." She chuckled lightly, wrapping her hand around Carlos'. "Promise?"

"I promise." Carlos replied, kissing her on the head. "Trust me, I don't like feeling like this." He slowly opened his eyes. "And I'm tired of the taste of puke." He made a face.

Stephanie laughed as she lifted her head. "Way to ruin a mood." She looked at Carlos and he managed a smile through a grimace, holding onto the sides of his head. "Sorry," she apologized, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Yeah," Carlos nodded. "I am too."

A/N: I think that the way that I had Camille and Logan break up was kind of weird and a little rushed, but I hope that you guys liked it. And I needed to show more about Carlos and Stephanie, so here it is. I know you guys would have liked to see instances of Carlos being drunk/drinking, but with so many things to get done with a few chapters left, it didn't need to/couldn't be shown.

Only 9 chapters left and still a few more story lines to tie up.

Cheers,

-Riles