2/16/2020
Ba da bing, ba da boom, here's a new chapter my peeps! I hope you guys like this one! Unfortunately (I'm so sorry), this chapter has a little section towards the end that is specifically from Gwen and Macey's POVs, so I'm super sorry if you guys hate OCs. This shouldn't happen again. GWen is just so fun to write for, though. She's like something straight out of "Mean Girls."
Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Please review!
"Jay Jay. . . Jamie. . . James. . . hey!"
James' eyes snapped open at the sound of his brother's voice, and it took a few moments for him to realize that Landon wasn't standing over him, incessantly prodding him as he usually did when James found time to make it home. He groaned, turning onto his back and bringing his hands to his face. He winced as his belt cut into his stomach and glanced down. He hadn't even changed last night, he realized. He'd returned home from the station with his family and immediately crashed on his bed still wearing his suit. No wonder he was so uncomfortable.
He turned and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 6:59 a.m. Well, wasn't that lovely? He knew there was little chance of him getting back to sleep, not without changing his clothes, at least. And that would wake him right up anyways, so. . . He sat up a bit begrudgingly, reaching down to undo his belt. It was practically cutting into him since he'd had to cinch it so tightly. Yanking it from the loops, he tossed it beside him on the bed tiredly.
He'd skipped dinner last night, and while he found it odd his mother didn't come up and force him downstairs, he was grateful. Although really. . . he supposed his weight didn't even really matter anymore. His brother was dead, and his father was in jail and could go to trial for his murder. There was a very good chance that BTR could be going on a hiatus. . . at least until the whole thing "blew over," if that was even physically possible. James wasn't sure how something like this could ever blow over.
A soft thump in the hallway caught his attention, and he stood and moved to open the door. Macey was in the hallway with her back to him, slinging her schoolbag over her shoulder as she closed her own bedroom door quietly. She turned, jumping a bit when she saw him.
'Sorry, I tried to be quiet.'
James shook his head. "I was already up. Are you going to school?" She nodded, though it was a stupid question. She was wearing her uniform. Where else would she be going? "You don't wanna wait a few days?"
'Wait for what? I've missed too much, I have to go back.'
James figured that was true, if Macey really had missed over a week due to the search and. . . and the services. But. . . "Is that a good idea?" he asked. "I mean, kids are gonna talk."
A look he didn't quite understand crossed her face for a moment before she shook her head. 'Kids are gonna talk anyway.'
They stood in silence for a moment before she hitched her backpack on her shoulder and signed a quick, 'Mom's driving me, and then she's heading over to help Dad, if you need her. See you later.' She padded quietly down the stairs and out the front door, leaving James in silence. He sighed, glancing at Gwen's door and straining to hear if she was up yet (and also partly to ensure she'd actually returned after the fiasco yesterday afternoon). He heard nothing and retreated back to his own bedroom, shutting the door and changing into a t-shirt and sweatpants before collapsing back onto his bed.
He must have dozed off, because the sharp ring of his cellphone jolted him awake. He sat up and fumbled around on his nightstand for a moment before grabbing the device. He flipped it open and pressed it against his ear. "Hello?"
"I didn't wake you, did I?" Kendall asked through the speaker. James could hear some sort of commotion in the background.
James shook his head, forgetting that Kendall couldn't see him. "Nah, I was just laying here." He glanced at the clock by his bed. 7:43. "What's up? This is early for you."
"I just got off the phone with Gustavo."
". . . Okay, that's inhumanly early for him."
Kendall chuckled lightly, although he didn't sound very amused. "Griffin wants us back by this afternoon."
James' heart sank, and his mouth ran dry. This afternoon? They'd just buried his brother less than twenty-four hours ago, his dad was in jail, and Griffin wanted him back in the studio?
"Gustavo got us plane tickets for tomorrow," Kendall continued. "He says he'll just fudge the time cards a bit."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Kendall chuckled. "He had to repeat it a few times. I couldn't believe it." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, mom took Kelly back to the airport, but Freight Train's staying. He's gonna escort us on the plane tomorrow cause. . . well, Gustavo just, thinks it's a good idea."
"Yeah. . ."
"You okay, man?"
James sighed, running a hand across his face. "I'm fine."
". . . James-"
"Kendall, I promise I'm okay," James insisted. "In fact, I was totally gonna go get breakfast right now."
"You were?"
"100%. I'll even send you an obnoxious selfie of me eating a waffle if you want."
". . . I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I'll actually look forward to seeing that."
James laughed a bit stiffly. "Give me a few minutes to actually make one without burning it, and then I'll send it."
"Or we can totally come over and all make waffles. And maybe break out some junk food-"
"There's no junk food in my mom's house, Ken. You know that."
"Then I'll tell Carlos to bring something. He'll get his hands on some good, sugar-filled, worry abolishing crap."
"I'll be here," James chuckled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
He could practically hear Kendall's relieved smile over the phone. It made the day somewhat easier to bear, for whatever it was worth. "I'll see you in a bit."
"Later, man." The dial tone abruptly assaulted his eardrums, and he quickly flicked his phone shut. Sighing, he heaved himself out of bed and headed for the stairs, hoping they actually had waffle mix in the house. Since he and Gwen had moved out and Macey didn't live with their mother full-time, it was unlikely. He'd never seen his mother eat a waffle before; too much fat, she said. Internally groaning at the thought of having to get dressed and go to the store, he rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs and stopped.
Gwen was, surprisingly, very much awake and standing at the kitchen counter with her back to him. The scent of freshly brewed coffee was ripe in the air, and James peered a bit questioningly at her. Last he'd known, Gwen hated coffee.
"Hey," he said hesitantly, stepping forward and coming around the side of the counter.
Gwen glanced up briefly as he entered, then quickly returned her eyes to her mug of coffee. "Hey."
James stared at her, moving across the room to the cupboards and pulling out a mug for himself. "How was your two-mile walk?"
Gwen stirred her drink slowly, keeping her eyes down. "Long. I went to the store and I caught a bus back."
James poured himself a cup, grimacing as he took a swig of it black. "Your car still out there?" he asked, moving to the fridge and grabbing the milk jug.
She shook her head. "It's out front. Mom called a guy, made him fix it overnight."
James scoffed, adding a more than generous amount of milk to his drink. "Fun for him." Gwen didn't answer, and James put the milk back before grabbing his mug and leaning against the counter. Still, his sister said nothing, and James fidgeted under the awkward silence. "Um. . .the guys are coming over in a few," he said eventually. "We're gonna make waffles and stuff, try to relax before we go back tomorrow. You can. . . you can hang with us, if you want."
Gwen quickly shook her head, standing and downing the last of her coffee before moving towards the sink. "No, thanks," she replied, dumping the mug in the sink and moving past him. She headed for the stairs.
"Are you okay?" James asked quietly, a bit hesitant but worried none the less. He'd been in the room for almost five minutes and she hadn't bitten his head off yet. It was a bit concerning.
Gwen turned, shrugging and scoffing lightly. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"
James shook his head. "I-I don't know. . . I just. . ."
She turned the corner to the enter the foyer the housed the stairs, and James trailed off. "Okay, then. . ." he muttered with a sigh. He really couldn't seem to do anything right, could he?
The other boys arrived shortly afterwards, with Carlos dragging his younger brother Julio in tow and Katie coming over as well. Breakfast was an interesting experience; Logan remained glued to his laptop, refusing to do anything until he finished the homework he'd been electronically assigned by Ms. Collins. Carlos and Kendall shrugged it off, fully intending to procrastinate as usual (they really did do their best work under pressure. . . no adults seemed to believe them, though), and James did his best to push the thought from his mind. He often turned in little to no homework, not because he wanted to fail but because school wasn't his priority in life. He did enough to pass, since he didn't want his mother calling and getting on his case about his grades. Now, though. . . he barely had the energy to get out of bed. How would he do almost two weeks' worth of make-up work?
He buried his worry over the course of the day; Carlos had been determined to make smiley-face shaped waffles, even in Mrs. Diamond's ordinary shaped waffle iron. He . . . actually succeeded, although James wasn't sure that was the right word since his mother would now need a new waffle iron. Oh, well. She never used it, and what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
They spent the majority of the day in the basement, unsure of what to do besides take turns playing air hockey and throwing darts. Video games were almost always a guarantee, but Kendall was hesitant. They were violent, and while violence had never been an issue before. . . it certainly was now, given their situation. It seemed as though everyone else was thinking the same thing too, because the awkwardness seemed to marr any potentially good time they may have had. All of that, coupled with the thought that on any other occasion, Landon would have been hanging out with them. . .
They did finally get a smile on James' face when Julio somehow managed to shoot the puck right off the table and into Logan's forehead. Kendall didn't feel a bit bad for laughing, since Logan was clearly okay a few moments later. He was certain the younger boy had exaggerated his pain a bit, if only to make James laugh.
Any good feelings they had were dashed early that afternoon, when the door at the top of the stairs squeaked open and Mrs. Diamond peered down at them. She looked terribly shaken. "Kids, could you go home please?" she asked quietly. There wasn't a hint of anger in her voice, and it took James aback. His friends seemed to feel the same way, because they quickly sent him somber looks and obeyed, heading up the stairs as his mother moved aside to let them past. Once they'd gone, she motioned for him to follow her.
James felt nothing but dread as he headed up the basement steps, moving cautiously into the living room. Gwen was already there, standing hesitantly by the couch, her eyes flickering quickly between her mother and brother. Brooke rubbed a hand tiredly across her forehead, motioning to the couch as she did so. "Sit down, kids."
Gwen tentatively sat down, and James followed suit, looking up at his mother worriedly. "Mom?"
Brooke sighed, sitting down in the armchair across from themand dropping her purse on the floor beside her. "They called in a homicide detective today," she announced softly, meeting their eyes.
Beside him, Gwen swore under her breath. James' brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"
His mother sat forward. "That means. . . they're going to start building a case against your father. And we need to be prepared for that."
"W-. . .prepared for what?" James questioned. "They can't send him to prison, they don't have enough evidence for that."
"Mr. Beck at the gas station never saw your brother," Brooke said. "He never even saw the car. The detective is going to try to argue that your father set the entire thing up, to turn suspicion away from him. There's plenty of evidence against him, James."
Gwen sighed, dropping back into the seat with a light thump. "So, he's gonna go to court?"
Brooke was hesitant. "It's possible. . . it's likely, to tell you the truth."
"But that's just one guy's opinion about what happened," James protested. "He wasn't there, no one was there. Dad's got like, seventy-something people working for him that'll vouch for him. He's not a psychopath."
"It's not that simple, James."
"Why not?"
"Because your father has an assault charge!" That promptly shut James up, and the tension in the room rose considerably. "As in battery," Brooke quickly continued. "'Assault with intent to harm' or something along those lines."
"Since when?!"
"That's not what matters!" Brooke snapped. "What matters is that with that charge, they can prove that violence is in his nature. There's a very real chance your father is going to prison, and he will drag this entire family down with him if we're not careful!" She took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. "James, absolutely nothing about any of this to the press, do you understand?"
James scoffed. "Wow, thanks Mom. You think I'd tell them about this?! They already know most of it anyway!"
"I don't care what they know. The point is, they will get no more information from this family. You go back to Los Angeles tomorrow, and you smile, and you tell them everything is under control."
"Under control?!"
"James!" She gave him a look that was almost pleading. "You know what I mean. Just. . .for your sake, don't talk about it. Let it unfold over here. Don't dredge it up two-thousand miles away."
"And what am I supposed to do?" Gwen chimed in.
An uncomfortable pause from their mother came. "You can leave whenever you want. There's nothing else for you to do, so. . ." She sighed heavily, standing and grabbing her purse. "I'm heading over to the courthouse before they close."
James' brow furrowed. "Why?"
"I've got to start filing for custody of your sister, since obviously your father can't be the custodial parent from a jail cell." James and Gwen grimaced in unison, preparing themselves for a rant on the divorce when their mother cursed under her breath. "James," she said quickly. "Can you pick up Macey from school? I don't want her walking but the courthouse closes in half an hour and the sooner I get that paperwork-"
"I'll do it," Gwen piped up.
The others fell silent for a moment. "You'll do what?" Brooke questioned.
"I'll get Macey from school."
She scoffed. "Yeah, absolutely not."
"Uh, James doesn't even have a car to go pick her up in. I do."
"I don't need two people in this family arrested for murder charges in the same week."
"I'm not gonna murder her."
"I didn't say it would be you."
Gwen groaned in frustration. "Come on," she whined. "I know where St. Michael's is, I can have us back in an hour. It can be like. . .sister bonding. Don't you always want us to do that?"
James stared at her incredulously, while Brooke just narrowed her eyes. "What have you smoked today?"
"Nothing! Geez, can't I extend an olive branch?"
Her mother sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes tiredly before giving a reluctant shake of her head. "One hour, you understand me?" she said firmly.
Gwen nodded quickly, rising and grabbing her car keys off the kitchen table before hurrying out the front door. Brooke exchanged a rather puzzled look with James before heading for her own vehicle.
A sharp knock on the car window made Gwen turn, and she quickly rolled it down as a woman, presumably a school administrator, peered inside. "Miss, you can't park here," she said firmly, pointing to several No Parking signs spread out across the sidewalk of the school's side entrance.
Gwen pushed her sunglasses higher up her nose and furrowed her brow. She was absolutely not in the mood to deal with this today. "Yeah, see, I'm already parked."
"This is for parent pick-up only," the woman continued.
Gwen nodded. "Yeah. I know."
The woman looked her up and down a bit before raising an eyebrow. "And which child is yours?"
"I'm here to get my sister," Gwen answered, rolling her eyes. "So, unless you have some sort of special 'sister pick-up' zone. . ."
"If you're picking up a child, you must park in the parents' parking lot." The woman pointed across the walkway behind her to a small parking lot.
"Yeah, but I don't have a permit to park in that lot. That'll get me a ticket."
"Then I suggest you request one at the office. Otherwise, parking here will get you towed, and I promise you, that's much more expensive than the ticket."
Gwen exhaled deeply, bringing her arm up to lean on the passenger seat beside her. "Ma'am, do you know who my mother is?"
The woman chuckled. "This is the 21st century. You can't just wave a wad of money in my face and expect to get what you want."
"I'm flattered you think I have a wad of money to wave around," Gwen joked, gesturing to her poor excuse of a car and hoping it would garner a smile. It didn't. She sighed. "Brooke Diamond. Brooke Diamond's our mom. Now, if you want, I can call her and-"
"No, no," the woman said quickly. She straightened up and looked at the vehicle reluctantly. "I'd rather not. . . I'd rather not see her today. Tell your sister to be prompt."
Gwen smiled smugly. "Will do," she answered as the woman headed into the building. She leaned back in her seat, scrolling through her cellphone as teenagers began filing out.
"Macey!"
The call was obnoxiously loud and got her attention, and she glanced up in relief because she was wholeheartedly expecting the office woman to call the tow company anyway, and she wanted to get out of the lot before she got her license number. She could see Macey heading in her direction, towards the parking lot behind her. She was being trailed by a girl her own age, who was rushing to catch up with her.
"Mace, come on," the girl was saying, grunting in frustration when Macey continued walking as if she hadn't heard. "You're not making this easy!"
That seemed to get Macey's attention, and she stopped spun around to face the girl.
'I'm not making this easy?!'
"My dad's trying to help!"
'We don't want your help! We don't want anything from you!' She turned and kept walking once more, and the girl followed.
"This is so stupid, can't you just let it go?"
'Let it go?!'
"If this was all reversed, and it was James, you'd be on his side."
'. . . No, I wouldn't. How can you say that?'
Frustrated, Gwen laid on the horn. Both girls turned to look. She leaned out the passenger window. "Let's go my sister from the same mister! I haven't got all day!"
Several kids stopped and stared, and Macey looked absolutely mortified. Gwen sat back in her seat, pleased. Point her.
Macey reluctantly approached and came to a slow stop by Gwen's Dodge, keeping a good five feet back as she bent her head to peer questioningly through the window. Gwen rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to lay on the horn again. "You are not five," she began, "and this is not a middle school stranger danger video, so get in the car, will ya?" She was firm, but she sounded considerably less irritated than she had in previous days.
Macey reluctantly threw her bag in the backseat with a thud and climbed into the passenger seat beside her sister. She buckled her seatbelt and crossed her arms over her chest, just as the girl from before came up to the window and peered inside. "I didn't know you were back," she said to Gwen.
Gwen stared at her for a moment. "I don't remember your name," she said simply.
The girl rolled her eyes. "Winnie."
"Oh, yeah. Like the fat bear."
Winnie glared at her before turning to stare at Macey, who stared right back.
"You got something to say?" Gwen interrupted. "Because we have things to do."
Winnie hesitated before standing and backing away from the car. "Text me," she told Macey. Macey signed nothing, intently glaring at the floor of the vehicle. Gwen sighed noiselessly and shifted the car into drive.
"Was that Mato's kid?" she asked exiting the parking lot. Macey nodded. "What was that all about?"
Macey shook her head. 'Nothing,' she mouthed.
They rode in silence until Gwen had come to a stop at a red light behind a Sudan. She took advantage of the stop and moved her eyes from the road to the sixteen-year-old, touching her arm to get her attention.
"I. . . need," she said slowly, apprehensively attempting to sign at the same time. ". . .to talk to you."
The bitterness seemed to leave Macey's face momentarily as her brow furrowed. She stared, a bit shell-shocked because Gwen adamantly refused to learn to sign when they were children and had never even tried when it was clear that ASL was Macey's chosen form of communication.
Seeing the look on her face, Gwen frowned. "Was that right?"
Macey nodded quickly, just as a car behind them laid on the horn. Gwen looked up only to realize that the light was green and the vehicle in front of her was long gone. She hit the gas but continued glancing frequently at Macey. "I need your help," she continued, unable to sign and steer at the same time but settling for at least making eye contact. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she looked as though she hadn't slept.
Macey jerked her head upwards in a universal "What's up" gesture since her sister's sign knowledge was minimal.
Gwen exhaled rather shakily. "I'm in a spot and I need some help."
Macey leaned forward so Gwen didn't have to take her eyes far from the road. 'No money,' she mouthed firmly, the irritated look returning to her face.
"I don't need money. I need to tell someone, and I can't tell James 'cause he's a guy and I can't tell Mom 'cause she'll flip out. And Dad's obviously not an option. . ."
Macey huffed and dug her cell phone out of her pocket. Gwen looked at her in confusion as she typed before a robotic voice quickly read aloud, "So by process of elimination, I'm your last choice? Gee, thanks."
Gwen rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant and seriously, I'd rather you just mouth stuff. That's creepy."
"You're starting to freak me out.'
Gwen whipped the car quickly threw an intersection with a yellow light, and her grip on the steering wheel tightened. "You can't tell anyone."
'Okay.' That sign was easy, and she assumed Gwen understood because she took another shaky breath before continuing.
"This is giving me rather unpleasant flashbacks," Brooke said quietly, shifting through the stack of papers on the table in front of her. Across the room, Mrs. Knight sent her a sympathetic glance as she stirred a pot of sauce on the stove. Normally one for homecooked meals, she was a bit disappointed they hadn't ordered out tonight. All the families were having one final meal together before she and Katie and the boys returned to Los Angeles, and cooking for over a dozen people was quite a chore.
"Why don't you let that sit until tomorrow?" she suggested. "It's getting late."
"I'd rather get it over with," Brooke replied, moving a finished sheet to the side before grabbing one that had yet to be filled out. She sighed, a bit annoyed, as she glanced at the clock. "James, have you heard from them?"
James lowered the volume of the tv and glanced at his phone, even though the volume was on and he would have heard any notifications. "No, not yet."
"Did I not say one hour? How difficult is it for her to understand instructions. . . Try calling Gwen for me, would you?"
James obeyed, flipping his phone open again and shifting through his contacts to find his sister's number. As he did, Brooke's own cellphone buzzed, and quickly opened the message, annoyed. The color seemed to drain from her face.
"What is it?" Jen asked quietly.
Brooke didn't bother to type out a reply, instead rising from her chair and pushing it haphazardly back into its place as reached for the coat closet.
"Brooke?"
"James, get a jacket on. I think the girls were in an accident."
Did I just give the Diamond family even more trouble? Yes, yes I did. I'm sorry I'm so angsty.
I hope you guys enjoyed! Please review!
God bless and much love,
-downtonabbey15 :)
