Disclaimer: Last time I checked, I definitely don't own Big Time Rush.
Guest (btrfanfiction1516): Did you really? That's so awesome - and a little ironic in a way ;) I'm so happy you're enjoying the story, and thank you for taking the time to read and review, I always appreciate it :)
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Guest#1: I'm glad you enjoyed it! Agreed, but it's necessary for the story. Do you really? ;) Thank you so much for taking the time to read and review, I really appreciate it!
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A/N: So, ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you the third chapter? Not really a lot to say about this chapter, just that you finally get to see James' perspective on some stuff which I hope will be a welcome change.
Enjoy the chapter :)
Chapter Three
James' POV
I figured after everything that had happened the night before, I was lucky to be alive. The afternoon after breaking into Katie's apartment, getting hit on by her neighbor, and then being accused of letting her mouth (and teeth!) get anywhere near my dick or balls, I winded up meeting Logan for lunch.
"So, how've you been?" I asked him once we were settled down in our favorite café.
Logan eyed me warily. "Are you asking in the general sense, or about something specific?"
"Both."
"Well, my internship at the hospital is going really well," he said brightly. "I mean, the twelve hour straight stuff is killer, but it's worth it when you manage to save someone's life."
"Uh huh," I said blankly as he launched into a description about how he saved some guy's life from a bench seat or a metal rod or a Nokia cell phone or something. I don't know, I wasn't listening. Around the third word of his sentence, I tuned him out. The only thing I knew about doctor internships was what I had seen on Grey's Anatomy when my mom would watch it. She was in love with Patrick Dempsey, and I'm pretty sure he was the main reason why she watched it. If Doctor McDreamy had suddenly turned into Doctor McHorrible, she would have flipped the channel to Gossip Girl and never looked back.
She's got a thing for good looking guys.
"…Anyway," Logan finally finished off, "that's how things have been going. How about for you?"
"Oh, um…the usual, I guess. I saw Katie yesterday…and last night…"
Logan's eyes widened. "Last night? Like…where?"
"In her apartment."
"James!" Logan gasped out. "She's like our little sister!"
"Speak for yourself. I've never been able to stand her. Little brat…"
Logan gaped at me. "You should be ashamed of yourself! How could you say something like that about her?"
"What the hell are you talking about? I've always talked about her like this!"
"Yes, but to talk about her like that after last night!"
"Look, I'm not saying I didn't enjoy it, but the fact remains, she's still a brat. And she's so uptight. And she can't even fit her mouth around a halfway decent sized piece of meat."
Logan's eyes enlarged to the size of saucers.
"And apparently she's not very good with rolling balls. And she puts too much pressure on stuff. She does appreciate how good my sauce tastes, though…"
"Sauce…? Like…?"
I gave him a weird look. Seriously, what was his problem? What was so weird about sauce? "Yeah, like that…Anyway, she says she's not a screamer, but I had her screaming, Fuck, James! while she was eating it."
Logan dry gagged. "TMI! TMI!" he squealed out.
"Dude, seriously, what's your problem? It's just Katie."
"My problem is that you're going into – into – details…I can't believe there's details with you two…details…sordid, disgusting, filthy details…"
I stared at him, before a light bulb slowly flicked on in my head. "Ohhhh…you thought I meant…No! No! I swear, Logan, I didn't sleep with Katie. I made spaghetti and meatballs last night, and, you know, my meatballs are pretty huge."
A passing waitress smirked at me and said silkily, "I bet they are."
I smirked back, before looking at Logan. "Seriously, all we did was eat dinner. Nothing even remotely fun or sexual happened. All we did was talk and fight. Well, no, the fighting was fun. It's always awesome to get her so steamed and worked up about stuff."
"Right…So there's absolutely nothing going on between you two?"
I shook my head. "I mean, we're having dinner with Camille and St – I mean, friends…"
Logan fiddled with his fork. "It's okay, you can tell me. I mean, obviously I know about the wedding."
"I know. But you're still in love with her."
"Be that as it may, she's gotten over me. And I have to accept that and move on."
"Yeah, but…you should fight for her. Don't let her go without staking your claim."
"She's not a piece of property, James! And she's not mine anymore. She made that very clear when she called off our wedding. So all I can do is wish her the best and move on to someone else."
"Well, that sounds boring."
"Not everything is fun and games, James. This is the real world, where sometimes you don't get what you want. Anyway, are you seeing Katie any other time?"
"Um, yeah, on Sunday. She's going to be at church and then at brunch with us, I guess."
"Wow, you two in church together…That ought to be interesting. I can't wait to see how you two manage to go two hours without cussing each other out."
"I'm seeing a lot of pinching and slapping in our future."
Logan let out a small laugh. "Believe me, I am too. And you won't be able to cuss at each other or try to kill each other in front of Mama Knight."
I groaned. "Ah, man. Sunday's going to be horrible. How am I supposed to go so long in Katie's company without annoying her?"
"No idea, man. No idea."
I sighed and signaled a waitress to let her know that we were ready to order. Fifteen minutes later, Logan and I were both chowing down on oversized hamburgers and fries, and slurping on chocolate milkshakes.
"So," I said as I took another bite of my hamburger and promptly washed it down with a sip of my shake. "Let's say Camille was maybe, say, not quite as happy with Steve as you might have been led to believe by certain lying friends, namely Jo Taylor and Lucy Stone. Would you try to win her back if that was the case?" I peered at him eagerly, and Logan blinked at me in return.
"I – I can't say."
"That's a sucker's answer!" I cried. "Dude, seriously, if you had the chance to win back the love of your life, would you do it or not? It's a yes or no question, Hortense! Yes or no!"
Logan stared at me. "I can't believe you just called me Hortense…"
"Yeah, I can't either. It kind of leaves a weird taste in your mouth…I'm starting to see why my mom made you change your name to Logan."
Logan rolled his eyes, before stuffing fries into his mouth.
"Come on, Logan, you're avoiding the question. Would you try to get Camille back or not?"
"For a fling? No."
"Well, what about permanently?"
"James, we already tried to do the permanent thing, but it didn't work."
"Because you two had a fight and she got mad and stormed out, and then you never followed her, and seriously, you're such a dumbass."
"Thank you so much for your vote of confidence, it means a lot."
"Look, you can't just let her go. I really don't think she's as happy with Steve as what Jo and Lucy keep chirping on about."
"Why would they lie?
"Because while Jo is in love with our best friend, she's still a bitch. And Lucy isn't in love with anyone and is also a bitch. They think you deserve what you're getting for not going after Camille."
"Well, maybe they're right. And maybe you are too. Maybe I am a dumbass."
"So, get un-dumb-assed, and man up! Woo back the girl of your dreams – and I just said woo. What is this, a fucking Shakespeare play? Romeo and Juliet?"
Logan shook his head. "If I really thought there was a chance, then yeah, maybe I'd give it a try. But the fact is, I just don't think I have a shot. If she really didn't want to marry Steve, she wouldn't have agreed in the first place. I'm sorry, James, but the happy ending you seem to want for Camille and me just isn't going to be happening."
I sighed as I sucked up some of my milkshake. Well. That wasn't the answer I had been going for. I was hoping he would feel enlightened and inspired enough to go after Camille himself. But if he was just going to sit around on his ass and not doing anything while the girl he had been in love with since he was fourteen went off and got married, then I'd just have to go back to my original plan – convince Katie to help me break up the wedding.
The reason why I wanted Katie to help me was because I knew her. I may not have been able to stand her, but she had a good heart, and she, like me, just wanted what was best for her friends. And once she saw how miserable Camille really was, she wasn't going to be able to just sit around and do nothing. She'd start scheming and plotting and together we'd be able to take out the wedding, get rid of Steve, and push Camille right back into Logan's arms. And then we would never ever have to speak to each other again. That last part alone sounded like pretty good incentive to break up the wedding.
Eventually, Logan and I finished eating and we paid the bill. Once we had forked out money for a tip, we got to our feet and headed out of the restaurant.
"Look," he said to me as we stepped out onto the sidewalk, "I appreciate you wanting Camille and me to work out. But the fact is, I screwed up, and she found someone who's probably better for her. We already had problems. She didn't think I was spending enough time with her, she was a complete drama queen, we just didn't fit."
"You are talking about your personalities, right…? And not about…your sex life…?"
Logan blushed. "No, I'm talking about our personalities. Our sex life was pretty incredible." A slight smile crossed over his face and by the faraway look in his eyes, I could tell he was reminiscing.
Okay then. Gross.
I clapped my hands in front of his face. "Hello, earth to Logan! I get your sex life was awesome, and that's cool and incredibly gross and all, but we were in the middle of a conversation."
"Right, sorry. Anyway, my point was, we were complete opposites. We were like you and Katie, only without the intense hatred and insane urge to strangle each other."
"Ah…"
"Yeah. So, you know, it just wasn't meant to work out. But thanks for caring, James. Oh, and when you see Katie tonight, tell her I can't wait to see her on Sunday." With a smile at me, he patted my arm and headed off towards his car, leaving me shaking his head.
That guy really was a dumbass.
Katie and I were meeting Camille and Steve at Maurice's, a French restaurant in the nicer part of town. It wasn't a formal restaurant, but it still required you to arrive fully dressed – no shorts or bikini tops allowed. Oh, and people with visible piercings and tattoos were frowned upon.
Snobs.
At 6:55, I pulled up beside Katie's car and parked, before climbing out. She was wearing a black coat, skinny jeans, and sparking peep toed high heels. She gave me a long look as I approached her.
"If tonight's horrible, your balls are going to be in jeopardy. And I'm not talking about your extra large, super sized meatballs."
"My balls are extra large and super sized too," I informed her with a grin.
"Gross, I didn't need to know that. Though I doubt that. I've long since figured out that one of the reasons why you act like a dick is to make up for your lack of one."
I paused, before cocking my head. "Oooh…burn. So, I guess the reason why you act like a boob is to make up for your lack of them?"
"Hmmph." And with that, she turned and stomped towards the restaurant, though she stumbled slightly in her heels.
"Hey, if you can't eat it, then don't dish it out!" I called after her.
"Oh, fuck you, Diamond!"
"You want to."
"Not on your life!"
I snorted and headed after her. Yeah, tonight was going to be a fucking blast…
We stepped into the waiting area of Maurice's, and I was immediately hit with the aura of rich, snobby people – expensive perfume lingered in the air, suit jackets were hanging up on a coat rack, and I was pretty sure the walls were paneled in dark gold. Or shiny mahogany. Either one.
Camille was apparently part of Maple Leaf Creek's elite now. Not that that really surprised me. Steve's father was our beloved mayor a few years back, and while he's retired from politics, he still gives to charities, eats at restaurants that cost more than my apartment's monthly rent, and buy his wife thousand dollar faux-mink coats. I know Steve actually went to Harvard for law, and he's a lawyer at his uncle's firm now, and making pretty fucking good money from what I hear.
It's amazing how Camille always manages to end up sleeping with the mega successful and ambitious guys. That's probably one reason why, even though we kissed in sophomore year, she never pursued a relationship with me.
Don't get me wrong, I'm super ambitious, but I'm not overly successful. True, my mom is Brooke Diamond, the CEO of Diamond Cosmetics, but her business only took off in the last few years. And I don't borrow money from her. I put myself through school, and I was currently living in a crappy apartment – although I fully intended to move, and soon – while auditioning for roles at the local theater. I had one audition coming up that I was really excited about – it was for Shakespeare's play Much Ado About Nothing. I played the male lead, Benedick, in high school, and I had been waiting for a chance to perform it once again. I was praying fervently that I landed the role, but until then, I had been practicing the scene I was going to be performing in front of my bedroom mirror.
Anyway, my point is, I haven't exactly been working steadily. When I was living in Minneapolis I was getting constant work, and my agent was also booking me for modeling jobs. But since the Maple Leaf Creek theater isn't particularly huge anyway…I had already decided that if I didn't get a role in this play, I would try the theaters in the nearest city, which was something my agent had been pestering me to do ever since I moved back to my hometown a month ago. And it had taken me a month to realize just how big a mistake Camille was making. Thus my little visit to Katie's work and then to her apartment yesterday. Plus, it's always fun to torment her. She's just such an easy target.
The maître d' approached Katie and me with menus and a look on his face that suggested he had just seen a couple of slugs in the kitchen. Either that, or else he could tell at once that Katie and I weren't even close to being part of Maple Leaf Creek's elite.
"Table for two?" he sneered out in an a la faux French accent.
"Actually, we're meeting a couple of friends here," I told him. "Steve Trousdale and Camille Roberts."
"Ah." He scoffed the word out like he couldn't quite wrap his head around the idea of ex Mayor Trousdale's son hanging out with such outlandish hooligans such as Katie and me. "Right this way, Monsieur, Mademoiselle." He led us into the main part of the dining area, past tables laid with pristine china and bathed in the golden glow of candlelight, and out through two French doors.
For a split second I thought he was going to kick us out, and then I realized he had brought us out onto an enclosed terrace overlooking the lake at the edge of town. It was less stuffy than in the main part of the restaurant, but just as warm and toasty. There were several tables set up a few yards apart from each other, and at the center most one sat Camille and Steve, enjoying a glass of wine in the candlelight while staring out at the lake.
A crisp white tablecloth had been spread over the table, and equally white china dishes adorned the table, with a bottle of some fancy-schmancy wine open and waiting to be finished off. Crystal chandeliers dangled like stalactites from the ceiling, casting the terrace in a golden flush, the illumination reflected in the floor-to-ceiling windows, little orbs suspended in the glass.
The maître d' cleared his throat, catching Camille's and Steve's attention, and they whipped their heads around to finally look at us.
Katie gave them a little wave and I dropped into the chair across from Steve, grabbing the bottle of wine and pouring myself a glass. "What kind is this?" I asked, sniffing it as Katie sank down beside me, scooting her chair as far away from me as was humanly possible without actually sitting at another table.
"1961 Chateau de Margot le Fleur," Steve answered, watching as I swirled the wine around my glass.
"Is it good?"
"It's expensive," the maître d' said in his hoity-toity voice, "so oui, it's very good."
"Maybe you should try saying that without a French accent," I suggested, taking a sip. "Eh, yeah, it's good for wine. Dude, could I get a beer?"
Steve looked like he wasn't entirely sure whether he should laugh or cry, and Camille had dropped her head into her hands. Like she would rather drink wine with three names and two French articles than good old fashioned American beer. I could remember watching Sunday afternoon football with her, Logan, Kendall, and Carlos before the disastrous wedding rehearsal dinner. She was always the first to crack open a can of Budlight and she was adamant about someone bringing nachos. The same was true when we would watch hockey games. The girl could be ladylike, but I knew from experience that she could hold her liquor.
Katie's lips twitched slightly before pouring herself a glass of wine as well. She brought the glass rim up to her mouth and sipped before raising an eyebrow. She didn't say anything, but I could tell she was about as impressed with the wine as I was.
The maître d sneered again before stalking off, leaving Katie and me with Camille and Steve.
I flipped my menu open, bypassing all the consommés and goat cheese tarts and escargots. Yeah, sorry, I wasn't in the mood to drink my dinner or eat snails. I was craving a fucking steak.
I located the steaks and decided on a prime rib with mashed potatoes and a side of salad with ranch dressing. I closed my menu and laid it flat on the table, resting my forearms against the edge as I surveyed Camille and Steve.
When Camille had been with Logan, they had always sat as close to each other as they could without actually crossing the lines of PDA. They would whisper and giggle to each other and sneak kisses every couple of minutes. But with Camille and Steve, they were just sitting there, actually looking at their menus. Katie and I had more chemistry than those two. Beached whales would have more chemistry than them.
I glanced at Katie and she looked back at me. I tilted my head at the happy couple and raised my eyebrows pointedly.
She shook her head and went back to her menu.
The maître d' showed up again a few minutes later. He set a glass of beer in front of me. "Are you ready to order?" he asked in a would-be polite voice if he didn't sound like he was snorting the words through his nose.
We all nodded and we each reeled off our dinner orders. He jotted them down before saying, "Should I put your orders all on one tab?"
Steve looked across the table at me, flashing me a smile. "Want to put them on two? I'll pay for Camille, and you can pay for your girlfriend."
There was a long pause during which Katie and I both blinked at him blankly. Camille snorted with laughter before trying to disguise it with a cough.
"What – what'd I say?" Steve asked in confusion, brow furrowing.
"Katie and I aren't dating," I clarified.
"We were next door neighbors for most of our childhood," Katie added. "And we could never stand each other. In fact, we went a good year without speaking to each other."
"Oh. Well, I don't get that vibe from you guys," Steve said slowly. "That you two hate each other. You're actually kind of cute together."
I fought back the urge to dry gag and Katie said quickly, "James doesn't do relationships and I don't do asses."
"But would you take it in the ass?" I wanted to know.
"That's not what I meant!"
"Don't get your panties in a twist, it was just a question."
"My panties are not in a twist. Can't you ever be nice?"
"No. You just called me an ass. I'll be nice when you're nice."
"And I'll be nice when you're nice," she shot back.
Steve's eyes widened and he turned to Camille. "Are they always like this?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
Maître D' guy cleared his throat. "I'm still here. How many tabs am I putting your orders on?"
"Put ours on separate ones," Katie pointed back and forth between us. "I don't need that jackass paying for my food."
"Like I'd want to pay for your food. Do you hear me complaining?"
She rolled her eyes and took another sip of her wine, before making a face.
I smirked before sliding my beer over towards Katie. She wordlessly took a long drink and wiped her mouth on her wrist before passing it back to me. I sipped from it, humming in appreciation.
Camille started up a conversation about Steve's cases and how proud she was of him, before asking me how finding an acting job was going.
"Well, I'm hopeful that I'll be able to get the rule of Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing," I replied, "but if nothing else I could always try some theaters in other cities."
"And you, Katie?" Camille looked at her. "How's writing for The Gates-Hills Chronicles going?"
Katie shrugged. "It's not my dream job, but I'm making do."
"That's good."
"How about you, Cami?" I asked her. "Are you still acting?"
"No, I've slowed down on that," she answered. "Steve would really prefer me to stay at home."
Katie and I both blanched. Camille was not the stay at home type of girl. She preferred to get out and about, meet people, put on shows, travel, experiment, anything she could get her hands on, really. And Steve…Clearly he wanted a trophy wife to return home to in the evenings, the kind of wife who would always have his dinner waiting for him and would bring him his newspaper when he would retire on the couch in the sitting room.
Camille would never be happy like that. So why the hell she was agreeing to this was beyond me.
Our food arrived soon after and we ate. Once we finished, we paid our bills and got to our feet, heading back out through the restaurant.
We stepped out into the parking lot and Camille and Steve made their way to his car. The second the car doors had slammed shut, Katie spun around to face me.
"Okay. Okay. I'll do it. Fuck it. Camille's never going to be happy being Mrs. Steve Trousdale, no matter what she believes right now. I'll help you get her and Logan back together."
I grinned. "In that case, I do believe we have a wedding to crash before it even gets started."
Katie nodded and held out her hand. "Let's make a pact – we'll be partners in crime this one time, and once Logan and Camille are happy together once more, we'll never come near each other again."
I placed my hand in hers. "Deal."
"Good. Let's crash this fucking thing."
So, Katie's agreed to help James with the scheming side of things. Should be interesting...Anyway, please review, I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions on what's going on :)
