Standing in the Dark - Chapter Fifteen
"Alex Milligan – star of the new hit CW show "Chasing Angels" – is throwing the biggest party of the year in downtown Los Angeles tonight to celebrate his sixteenth birthday! I've seen the guest list and it seems like everyone is going to be there tonight!"
Carlos bit his lip as he listened to the radio announcer drone on and on about the kid's birthday party, his hands resting on the steering wheel as he sat in the infamous Los Angeles traffic. The announcer hadn't been exaggerating. He had seen the guest list a few days prior and literally everyone was going to be there. He had only skimmed over the multi-page list but some names had caught his eye. Jaden and Willow Smith. The entire cast of Glee – new and old. Fall Out Boy was supposed to be performing.
Alex Milligan's mother, Denise, who was the poor kid's overzealous manager, had hired him as the photographer for the party. Paparazzi were strictly forbidden because of the resent fallouts with some of the celebrities invited and Denise didn't want any chance of bad publicity for her son. It was Carlos sick how much people cared about publicity. It reminded him of his old friends.
The kid was a great actor and Chasing Angels had brought a lot of traffic to the CW, which had almost gone off the air due to such low ratings after Supernatural and The Vampire Diaries wrapped up their last seasons. Alex Milligan was only sixteen and yet he was one of the hottest stars in Hollywood.
Carlos remembered what it felt like to be like that. Famous. Throwing parties and inviting the whole town. Hearing thousands of fans scream his name.
But that was years ago. It wouldn't seem like that – but the Hollywood spotlight fades quickly. It had taken the town nearly six months to forget about him – which was a record since most stars were forgotten about only weeks after they went under. Paparazzi had spotted him a few times around town but not once had anyone found out about his studio above the coffee shop.
It was as if time had gone on and he wasn't special anymore. He had become so anonymous that nobody cared anymore. Even the fans that had claimed they "loved" him had either lost interest or forgotten. Sure, there were still a few who roamed the dead forums online, waiting for him to make a comeback – but Carlos knew that would never happen.
"Although it has been rumoured that Fall Out Boy will be the performing act at Alex's party, I wouldn't be surprised to hear that his brother gave his own performance as well. His nineteen year old brother – Andrew Milligan – is attending the party as well along with the rest of his – "
Carlos groaned and turned off the radio. He had an awful headache that felt as if his brain was throbbing and pounding against his skull. It was probably a hangover from getting drunk, again, last night. As the traffic began to move, he glanced down at the empty bottle of Jack Daniel's whiskey on the floor of the passenger side of his car. He hadn't been drinking and driving – Bradley made sure of that – but he could still taste the drink in the back of his throat.
He would never admit to himself that he had succumbed to drinking after his friends dumped him. Carlos Garcia had too much pride for that. He drank simply because he had acquired the taste. It wasn't so bad after all. The burn of the first few sips would always fade as he drank more.
Bradley had tried time and time again to make Carlos stop drinking – but he had never been successful. He had finally given up and could only watch as his best friend went in a downward spiral as he downed a whole bottle practically every other night.
Carlos finally turned off of the road, the constant honking of the cars around him making the headache even worse, and pulled into a large parking lot. Gazing at the large, cream-colored building, his heart skipped a beat.
This would be his first real job. He had been given permission to send in whatever pictures he had taken to the publishers of Us Weekly, Hollywood Nation, J-14 Magazine, Pop Tiger, and Entertainment Tonight. Alex's publicist would make sure that none of the tabloids would give Alex or any of the attendee's bad publicity. Carlos couldn't help but smile at the thought of his first job. He just hoped that none of the attendees would pull anything stupid.
He knew from experience that some celebrities would rather have bad publicity than no publicity at all.
After setting up his equipment and chatting briefly with Alex's publicist and personal team of assistants, Carlos sat down at one of the tables at the back of the large ballroom.
There were at least fifty of these round tables covering the floor, leaving a wide space in the middle for the stage and dance floor. Each table had a dark, maroon colored tablecloth and streamers littered the walls and high ceiling. The ballroom was huge and was certainly big enough to fit the entire guest list and everyone's plus ones. If not more.
Carlos watched as the crew set up the stage, hanging a large banner across that said "Fall Out Boy" in large black letters. It was only 4:30 and guests weren't supposed to be arriving until at least 5:00, so Carlos sat back and resisted the urge to pull the silver flask out of his pocket and take a swig.
"Are you Carlos Garcia?"
Turning around quickly, Carlos found himself face to face with Alex Milligan himself. Standing up, Carlos flashed the boy a toothy grin and shook his hand. "Yeah, that's me."
"I'm Alex."
"I figured."
Alex Milligan was about Carlos' height and had a curly mane of red hair that almost covered his eyes but looked as if it had been cut recently. His freckles and green eyes were the most evident features on his face and when he smiled, Carlos noticed that one of his front teeth were slightly crooked but the white and barely noticeable braces he had were working on fixing that.
Something about this kid looked vaguely familiar. Carlos had never watched his show – he wasn't much of a fantasy or supernatural type of guy. Then, it hit him.
Fuck.
Milligan. Why hadn't he realized it before? Here he was, standing in front of the brother of the guy who took his place in Big Time Rush. Carlos' grin faltered slightly and Alex gave him a confused look before someone called his name from the other end of the ballroom.
"Well, it was nice meeting you, Carlos. Thanks for agreeing to photograph the party for us. I'd much rather have you here than a swarm of paparazzi." Alex said, but before he left he leaned closer to the Latino and said in an almost whisper, "But I wouldn't have minded having a smaller party, you know? Maybe a little laser tag with my best friend and some pizza. I've never been much a big event kind of guy."
Carlos couldn't help but laugh as Alex walked away to greet his first few guests. Even though he didn't have a very high opinion of Andrew, Carlos liked his brother. He was glad that the fame hadn't gotten to his head. At least not yet.
Actually, when he though about it, Carlos had never even met Andrew. He'd had the misfortune of turning on the television and coming across an interview of the guys, but Carlos had never really paid attention to anything that he had to say. Although, just because his brother was cool, didn't mean Andrew was.
At 7:30, Carlos slid down into his chair, holding a hand to his forehead as he used his other hand to place his camera down on the table. Since he wasn't a "celebrity", he sat at the back of the ballroom with other crewmembers. It had only been two and a half hours into the party and Carlos was already exhausted. The guests were still piling in, some held back because they were held up on set or because they couldn't find their lucky earrings or some other lame excuse.
The only reason why Carlos had a chance to sit down was because Denise had decided to hire another photographer at the last minute and she hadn't arrived until 7:25. Carlos could see the girl photographing the attendees who seemed to be constantly walking through the doors and he closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing his wrists to ease the ache from holding the camera.
"It's so typical of Denise to only hire two photographers for such a huge party. She's new to the management job, but she thinks she knows everything." said one of the crewmembers at Carlos' table.
Without opening his eyes, he nodded in agreement and sighed. The party was supposed to last until at least midnight and he didn't think he could make it without at least a sip from his flask. Sitting up straight, he pulled the flask out of his jacket pocket and uncapped it. Taking a swig, he listened as the crewmembers complained about a diva on set today who held them up because she had a cowlick.
"We were at least an hour late getting to lunch." whined a lady who still had a headset attached to her ear. Obviously she had rushed off of set quickly to attend the party. Every once in a while she would put her finger to the black plastic and mumble something incoherent.
"Tell me about it."
"Did you hear about what happened at the Vogue photo shoot today?"
Carlos didn't care to listen anymore as he took another sips, their voices fading rather quickly. Somehow, the alcohol made his headache fade away and he picked up the camera. As he examined the pictures he had taken of Ashley Tisdale and Sandra Bullock when they arrived, he made a mental note of the weak lightening in the ballroom. He would need to send the tabloids a tip to touch up the pictures before printing. He didn't want any hell from upset publicists about the damn lighting.
Standing up, Carlos slipped the camera strap over his neck and let it rest against his chest. As he walked towards the center of the room, he gave a quick scan of the guests. He couldn't see the guys anywhere and he couldn't help but feel relieved as he made his way towards the stage and got ready to snap a few pictures of the band.
He got a good side shot of Patrick with the "Fall Out Boy" banner in the background before he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around quickly, he met a pair of emerald green eyes that were all too familiar.
Suddenly, the headache was back and as Patrick moved away from the banner, Carlos' mood plummeted. It wasn't as if he was angry – just kind of annoyed that this asshole had just stolen what could have been the cover of Us Weekly with his name copyrighted at the bottom.
"Go away, Kendall." Carlos grumbled, turning back to the stage and taking a quick shot of Andy on the drums, he felt the hand on his shoulder again and the familiar voice in his ear.
"Carlos we need to talk to you."
Without turning around, Carlos replied through gritted teeth, "I don't have time to talk to you. Can't you see that I'm busy?"
"Please."
Carlos groaned but let his camera fall to his chest once more. He turned to face Kendall and gave him an annoyed look. "Fine."
As the blonde led him away from the stage, Carlos realized something. He wasn't necessarily angry at them anymore. He didn't feel that gut wrenching rage he used to. He simply didn't care. Hell, they could all die and he still wouldn't care. It kind of scared him, the way that he felt. But maybe it was just the booze.
It was probably just the booze. Thank God for ol' Jack Dan.
Kendal led him to one of the round tables a little ways away from the center of the stage. The music wasn't so loud because the acoustics in the ballroom kind of totally sucked, so they didn't have to yell over the sound.
Even though each table sat four, there were a few extra chairs at the table where James, Logan, and Andrew were sitting. Kendall sat down in an empty chair and patted the one next to him; inviting Carlos to sit who reluctantly slid down into the chair and felt suddenly self conscious under the stare of his old best friends.
It was the strangest feeling – sitting there with them. The people he had grown up with, shared so many memories with, and loved like brothers were only a few feet from where he sat. Although they were the same people who dumped him for almost no reason at all and treated him like shit – he couldn't help but remember all the happy times they shared.
There was one memory that kept flashing through his mind as he looked at them. He remembered their first concert. When they sold fliers all over the city and sold out their first arena. He remembered performing with them and how happy and proud they all were. It almost made him sick to his stomach knowing that they would never share a moment like that ever again.
Or maybe that was the booze too.
"We missed you, Carlos." James murmured, not breaking eye contact with the Latino. He looked almost exactly the same, except that his skin looked slightly loser from age and he obviously hadn't taken the time to shave before the party. Logan and Kendall both had new hairstyles that stood up with the use of way too much gel on Logan's part.
He had to look away eventually, the sight of them making him feel sicker. He knew it wasn't the booze that was making him feel this way. He hadn't drunken enough to make him sick. His body was so used to the alcohol by now that he had to have at least half of the bottle before he even began to slur.
"I wish I could say the same, but then we both would be lying." Carlos snarled, looking away at the stage, where the music had stopped and Pete had asked for Alex to come up on stage.
"Carlos, I wasn't-"
Carlos cut him off as he stood up and flicked on his camera. He could get a good shot of the stage from where he stood, courtesy of the $2000 camera lens, and snapped a few pictures of Alex on stage with the band.
"So is that what you do now? You're a photographer?" Logan asked, his voice a little too loud. It was obvious that they were just as uneasy as Carlos was, but he sighed as he felt the anger begin to bubble up inside of him again. He hadn't felt that anger in a very long time.
"Yeah, I am." He spat, sitting back down in his chair. "Remember when you said that it was just a hobby for gay people, Kendall? Well, will you look at that - I turned my hobby into a career. Not that any of you care about what I do."
"Carlos, we're trying-" Kendal began but was cut off as Carlos spoke again.
"Why the hell are you trying to be my friend again? Why did you come by the shop and bother my friends and try to make things worse? You shouldn't even be trying to be my friend. We shouldn't be in this position. If you ever cared about me as much as you led me on to believe, I would be were Andrew is sitting and we would still be best friends." Carlos growled, not breaking eye contact with Kendall. He felt the sick feeling in his stomach worsen, but he ignored it.
"But…" Kendall seemed at a loss for words.
"We know we were jerks, but we want to make things better." James exclaimed, a pleading tone in his voice.
"Jerks? You think you were just jerks?" Carlos stood up, his eyes black with rage, "You were more than that. You were my best friends – my brothers – and you turned on me. You turned into monsters that suddenly flicked a switch and stopped caring about me. You hit me and screamed at me. You broke me inside and out and you didn't even care.
You made me terrified to live in my own home. I had nightmares every night that the three of you would beat me over and over again. All of the things that you said to me were like bullets that finally broke me. You fucking ruined your best friend and you're acting as if you can fix it.
Well, here is some news for the three of you. You were deaf to my cries, blind to my scars, and left me alone without a friend in the world. You promised we would always be together but you lied. And you can't fix it."
Backing away from the table, his old friends giving him shocked stares, Carlos turned away from them. He felt nauseous and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold it in. He had wanted to scream and yell so much more than what he had said, but the lump in his throat had made it almost impossible to say more.
He made his way across the room, finding it hard to breath, and mumbled a quick excuse about feeling ill to Denise. He must have looked sick because she nodded sympathetically and thanked him for coming. He pushed his way through the doors and stumbled out into the night air.
Fuck.
Carlos felt his stomach lurch and he finally vomited in the parking lot outside of the building. Nobody was outside and the music rang in his ears. He finally made it to his car and he didn't bother unlocking it before leaning against the door with his back and sliding down to sit on the pavement.
As much as he tried to hold it in, he felt a few stray tears trail down his cheeks and he covered his face with his hands. The flask fell out of his pocket and he grabbed it and took a swig without even thinking.
He didn't stop swallowing the drink until the flask was empty and he dropped it on the pavement beside him. The edges of the world began to blur and Carlos felt as if he could breathe again.
Fuck.
Yeah I don't have an excuse for being away so long.
But I hope that you guys liked the chapter! I'm getting close to wrapping up the story and I hope you guys like angst because a lot of it is coming! I'm not going to make any promises to update soon because we all know that I suck at keeping those promises - but I really hope that you guys liked it! I really appreciate everyone who has been here throughout the entirety of the story and those of you who have left feedback that always inspires me to keep writing!
I don't have much to say except that I hope you guys are having a good summer so far, for those of you who are out of school, and if you're still in school then I hope that you're doing good as well.
Ahhh I feel bad for not updating but, what can I do? Writing is hard man.
~ Carnie