Attention: This chapter is about self-harm. Read at your own risk.
F.
Logan Mitchell was sitting in the kitchen, reading the newspaper as his cell phone vibrated. He looked at it and frowned.
"Everything all right?" Peggy asked, looking at him curiously. He shrugged. "I don't know … I just got a text from Jo. She asks if I can meet her tonight. But she doesn't say why."
"Maybe it's about Kendall."
Logan shook his head. "I don't think so. But I'll find out tonight."
While the guys were recording some new songs in the studio, Logan was watching Kendall closely. Maybe there were signs that something was wrong. But Logan's concerns were unfounded. Kendall was in a good mood and showed no sign of any problems. Logan was so focused on the new songs and Kendall that day, that he didn't notice that Carlos was watching him.
When Logan came home, he found a note from Peggy, telling him that she would be back late in the evening because she wanted to meet with her cousin. He took a shower and then watched TV for a while until it was time to leave. Jo wanted to meet him in the park, so he decided to walk. On the way, he whistled one of the new songs to himself. When he reached the park, it took a few minutes before he saw Jo. She was sitting on a bench, talking to someone sitting next to her. She noticed him and waved. He waved back and at that moment the person next to Jo turned the head and also looked in Logan's direction. He froze, unable to breathe. Everything in him felt numb. He turned around and ran away.
He was in his bathroom. Memories rushed to him, threatening to suffocate him. "No!" He punched the bathroom mirror, which broke. Then a sharp pain shot through his hand. Some of the shards had cut his skin. Blood dripped from the cuts. At this sight, he remembered a memory that was stronger than anything else. He slowly sank to the floor and lost himself in the worst memories of his life ...
*Flashback*
The Palm Woods, five years ago:
Two weeks. Logan's life had ended two weeks ago. Camille was gone and it was his fault. He had barely eaten for two weeks, stopped sleeping, and stopped going to work. He felt sick, tired, and lonely. He stood in the bathroom and stared in the mirror. His face was pale, his hair a mess, his eyes red. A deep emptiness had spread inside him. With a trembling hand, he turned on the faucet and washed his face. Then he reached out to take a fresh towel from the shelf. An opened pack of razor blades fell down. Logan tried to catch the pack, but one of the blades cut his hand. He gasped as the pain shot through him. The cut wasn't deep, but it was bleeding. But instead of starting to take care of the wound, he just stood there, staring at the blood. Suddenly there was a loud bang in the living room, followed by the angry voice of Mrs. Knight. Logan flinched and woke up from his trance. He washed the blood from his hand, then bent down and picked up the pack of razor blades. He put it back on the shelf. Then he left the bathroom and tried not to think about what had just happened there …
One week later:
Logan was back in the bathroom, looking thoughtfully at the razor blade in his hand.
'Don't do it!'
'It could help me.'
'That is no solution!'
'But I would feel better.'
'As a future doctor, you know very well that this is dangerous!'
'I can't take this emptiness in me anymore.'
That was the truth. That damned emptiness that made him feel nothing but his despair. Yes, he knew this was dangerous and stupid, but he couldn't help it. He raised the blade and ran it over the skin on his upper arm. The pain shot through him. At the same time he felt relief. The pain signaled that he could still feel, that he was still alive. When the first drops of blood came out, a deep peace spread inside him. There was no more cold emptiness, no unpleasant thoughts or worries. He smiled.
One month later:
And once again Logan was in the bathroom. He was alone in the apartment and that was fine with him. He had been waiting for such an opportunity all day. He took off his t-shirt and pants and looked for a spot where he hadn't used the razor blade. He found a spot on his thigh, reached for a blade and made the cut. He slid to the floor, closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of inner peace.
"Logan?"
Kendall's voice. Before Logan could do anything, the bathroom door opened and Kendall entered. "Hey, Logan, I-" He fell silent when he saw Logan sitting on the floor and noticed the blood on Logan's leg.
"Damn it! Logan, what happened?"
Logan was silent and looked down. Kendall took a closer look at him and his eyes fell on the razor blade that Logan was still holding in his hand. He looked back at the injury and then he noticed it. His breath stopped when he saw the cuts on Logan's upper arms, thighs and inner thighs. Kendall's gaze went back to the razor blade, then he shouted, "Are you crazy?! Why are you doing that?!"
When Logan remained silent, Kendall lost control. He slapped Logan. The pain on his cheek brought tears to Logan's eyes. When Kendall saw this, he fell on his knees and said, "Logan ... I'm sorry."
The tears were already running down Logan's cheeks. "It's okay, Kendall. I deserve it," he said hoarsely. Kendall shook his head. "No, that is not true. But Logan … Why?"
Logan sobbed but didn't answer. Kendall sighed deeply. "Logan … please don't tell me you did it because of Camille."
The name broke the barrier. "I couldn't help it! It was my fault that she left! I couldn't take it anymore!"
"Logan, that wasn't your fault. She chose her career over you."
Logan shook his head. "No, she had to go. I was so selfish. I was just thinking about myself."
"All that matters is that she's gone. And she will not come back, Logan. But that's no reason to hurt yourself."
Suddenly Logan grabbed Kendall by the collar and looked at him intently. "Kendall, you have to promise me you won't tell anyone. I don't want the others to know. Please, Kendall, don't tell anyone."
Kendall looked at him seriously. "Under one condition."
"Which one?"
"Forget Camille."
Logan shook his head. "I can't do that. She's the love of my life. I-"
Kendall's patience was over. "Logan! Camille is the reason why you hurt yourself! Do you think that's okay? She's gone and she will not come back! You must finally understand that!"
"I know, but ... I have no idea how to do it."
Kendall smiled slightly and put a hand on Logan's shoulder. "That's exactly what friends are for. I'll help you. But you have to stop this crap and start living again."
Logan sighed deeply. He knew Kendall was right. He looked into Kendall's green eyes and nodded. "OK."
*End of Flashback*
Logan opened his eyes. He felt sick. His eyes fell on the still bleeding hand and the nausea increased. He rushed to the toilet and vomited. Then he cleaned up the bathroom and took care of his injured hand. He left the bathroom and sat down on the couch in the living room. The shock was over. He could finally think again. But that didn't help him in this situation. What was the reason why Camille Roberts was back in Los Angeles?