Heres one of the one-shots I worked on while in the hospital. Some parts kinda suck (in my opinion), but idk. This story was just...annoying to write. IDK.

But anyway, it took forever to finish so please read! And...

Enjoy(;

As a kid, my mom always told me I belonged under a spotlight. I was way too talented to be kept in the dark. She dragged me to singing lessons and dance classes while everyone else I knew was skating around the local ice rink, learning how to play hockey. I didn't mind it, focusing on my vocals instead of athletics, but it was lonely. My friends were all hockey players. I was a singer.

One summer when I was ten, we took a family trip to LA. My mom basically worked the entire time while my dad disappeared into bars and clubs. Everyone who knew my parents knew that they weren't happy together. They had an unspoken, mutual agreement to pretend nothing happened and to stay together, despite their unhappiness. My unhappiness.

My mom found me sitting on the roof of our hotel one night after coming back late from a business meeting. "I can't sleep without seeing the stars from my window." I told her, searching the sky. She stared at me thoughtfully and walked to the edge of the building. "Do you want to know why there aren't any stars in the sky here, James?" she asked, turning to look at me.

I shrugged, joining her at the railing. "The city lights are too bright?"

She laughed, draping her arm over my tiny shoulders. "There aren't any stars in the sky because they're all on the ground . Actors, James. Singers."

The way she described them, with such awe and admiration, made them sound like fallen angels. Gods, even. I wondered if she would ever be proud of me if I was famous.

After that, all I ever focused on were my lessons. Anything to get me to the top. To make me famous.

Kendall noticed how focused I was on music and acting. I needed more time to practice, and my friends were feeling the impact.

"We never hang out anymore, man." a fourteen year old Kendall said, lounging against the shingles of my roof.

I sighed, staring at the stars I've grown to love. "I know."

Kendall sat up, staring at me. "Do you even care?"

I blinked, watching him from where I was lying. "What?"

He rolled his eyes and stood up, walking towards my window. "Fuck you, dude."

"Wait!" I shouted, pushing myself up. "I care about a lot of things!"

"Yeah," he folded his arms across his chest. "Like having everyone love you. And looking perfect. And being famous. Just not what matters."

"Oh yeah? And what does?" I asked after a moment. My entire existence was based on being famous. Loved. Perfect. It seemed like all anyone ever cared about anymore. Surely if none of that was important, then I wasn't either.

Kendall scoffed. "Friendship matters, James. Fami-" he cut himself off, clearing his throat. Family was a sensitive subject for both of us, especially for him after his dad walked out on them. "Maybe if you'd stop staring at the stars for five minutes, you'd know this."

"But Kendall," I said, turning back to look at the sky. "Stars are so amazing. The light travels millions of miles just to appear and then-"

"Yeah, I've heard this. In Hollywood, they're on the ground. I know. But do you know what makes these stars so special?" Kendall asked, walking back over to me. I shook my head as he sat down. "They're like little spotlights, shining for you. Like you said, they travel millions of miles, but they do that for you and everything you do. And they're always there, James. The people in Hollywood aren't special enough to have these following them around. But you are."

I tilted my head to the side, sitting down. "Why do I feel like you just recited a Coldplay song?"

Kendall shoved me playfully before lying next to me again. Silence surrounded us as we watched the stars. After a few minutes, a song drifted into my ears.

"Look at the stars, Look how they shine for you, and everything you do..."

Years passed before something life changing happened. A world famous music producer was in Minnesota searching for the next best thing. It was my shot. I could be famous. My life long dream, fulfilled. Maybe my mom would actually notice me. Love me. Want me.

I blew the audition.

It was too much pressure for me. All I ever wanted was practically handed to me on a silver platter, and I couldn't handle it. I was a failure.

Kendall, who didn't even audition, had the 'fire'. Something in him impressed the producer and his assistant so much that they offered him a solo contract on the spot. My heart shattered as he declined and left the room, walking away from my dream.

"What the hell is your problem?" I asked him the afterwards, shoving his shoulder. He stared blankly back at me. I growled, spinning around and exploding out of the emergency exit. A blaring alarm drifted into the distance as I ran through the snow and ice of Minnesota.

I shouldn't be here, I thought to myself. I should be out in Hollywood living the life. But I wasn't. And there wasn't any silver lining, either. Kendall wasn't taking the deal of a lifetime. He was ruining my dream. Surely if I didn't leave when I did, I would've punched Kendall in the jaw.

How could he do this to me?

They're like little spotlights, Kendall's voice bounced through my head as I watched the stars. My feet carried me places I didn't even know. If I was so amazing, Kendall, why did they want you? Was something wrong with me?

I stopped walking then, looking around at my surroundings. Cold tears drifted down my cheeks. Where was I? Trees surrounded the small, snow covered clearing I stood in.

My knees hit the ground. Look at the stars. Look how they shine for you. I screamed out in aggravation, throwing snow up towards the sky. The stars were mocking me.

I've never felt more like a failure.

"James!" a voice called off in the distance. My eyes snapped open. The starry sky above me was replaced by the drywall of my ceiling. "James! You woke up!"

Carlos was perched next to me on the arm of my couch.

I rubbed the sleep out if my eyes. "How did I get here?"

"Kendall carried you! He found you in passed out the woods and brought you home," I growled at his name. It wasn't all a dream. Kendall really did get offered a solo deal instead of me. Kendall rejected it. Kendall ruined my dream.

"But oh yeah! He wanted me to tell you something," Carlos said, scratching his head. I stared at him as blankly as Kendall stared at me last night, waiting for him to continue.

"Right! Kendall took the solo deal. He called Gustavo after he found you. But it's not a solo deal. He's taking us with him."

I sat up quickly. "Are you saying that-"

"We're all going to Hollywood!"

At that moment, I decided Kendall wasn't all that bad after all.

In the beginning, everything was all fun and games. We got an amazing apartment in Los Angeles. We got to record and preform songs and dances for millions of screaming fans. People were paying us to do something we loved. Something fun. To put it simply- we were living the life. The American dream. My dream.

After the first year, we started to party. And when I say party, I don't mean the small apartment parties we had- the ones that got us in trouble but never enough to get us kicked out. I mean hardcore partying. At nightclubs until the sun was just peaking over the horizon. Parties with grinding girls, underaged drinking, and loads of other illegal things.

That was something I loved about Hollywood. Nineteen year olds could be puking in the streets from drinking too much and no cops were ever called. No, the paparazzi were called instead. The image I cared so desperately about suddenly became that much more important. It didn't matter that I was underaged. It mattered that I was famous.

I practically lived and breathed image. Gustavo wouldn't have it any other way. Kendall, though, could never be told what to do. He was a rule breaker, plain and simple.

Which is probably how I ended up slammed against a gritty bathroom wall, panting and moaning as he assaulted my mouth with his own. We were both extremely drunk, grinding against each other for shits and giggles on the dance floor. The next thing I knew, he was sucking and biting my neck.

"I want you," Kendall groaned into my mouth. I smirked, continuing our little makeout session. Who cared if we were caught? It was Kendall, and he wanted me.

Nothing else happened that night, though. I remember a drunken Carlos stumbling into the small room, breaking us apart and dragging us out to the limo.

We never talked about it.

It's funny how in Hollywood, you forget. You forget that your best friend wanted to be a doctor more than anything. You forget that your best friend was supposed to go play for the NHL. Hell, you even forget that your other best friend has a fantasy about becoming a superhero. All that matters is being noticed. Famous. Loved. And the stuff you didn't forget about, like being kissed by your best friend? That was the stuff you needed to forget the most.

About six months after making out with Kendall in the bathroom of that club, the band broke up.

I remember helping Logan pack his bags for medical school. I thought it was the end of the world. Our little group of best friends was breaking up for the first time since second grade.

Carlos was next, landing an acting job on an up and coming sitcom. He moved out of the apartment, saying he needed to live closer to the set.

It was just the two of us after that.

Kendall and I went to the ice rink a lot to relax. We were lonely without our friends. We needed something to remind us of them. Hockey was the one thing that kept us together besides singing.

A little after my twentieth birthday, a recruitment letter came in the mail. The New York Rangers were in need of a new center. I smiled, immediately handing it over to Kendall along with the rest of his mail.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he asked later that day, shoving the letter in my face. My eyebrows came together. "No? It just came in the mail today for you-"

"This is for YOU, you asshole!" he flicked the paper at me, storming down the hall. Kendall had pretty bad anger management moments, but this was one of his worst.

"Kendall, wait!" I shouted after him. A slamming door was his reply.

Three days later, I was on a plane to New York while Kendall and Gustavo discussed his new solo career.

Its funny how things work out sometimes. I could see the stars from outside the plane windows. They shine for you. Sometimes I felt like the stars were laughing.

All of us pretty much lost contact after that. Logan was always busy at school or at the hospital. Carlos was always filming something. I was always with my team. And Kendall? Well, he was always being famous.

I remember watching him during an interview a few years into my new hockey career. A pair of Ray Bans were hooked on the collar of his expensive button up shirt. He looked nothing like the hockey player from Minnesota. He looked like a superstar.

He used to high five strangers on the street. He didn't look like he would even acknowledge a stranger now. Unless, that is, they wanted an autograph or something.

Two weeks later, Kendall was on a Ray Bans billboard. I almost laughed. Great advertising, really. With his face up there, the sign practically said "Don't buy these unless you can handle copious amounts of awesome."

No one would ever be as awesome as Kendall. At least, that's what the entire teenage population thought.

I wasn't a teenager. Not anymore, anyway.

A week later, in a game against the Pittsburgh Penguins, I busted my knee. A broken leg was nothing to me, just a minor inconvenience. The Rangers disagreed. I'd be out for the rest of the season.

There was always something different about New York these days. I could never put my finger on it until now. I glanced up towards the sky. There were stars for the first time since I've lived here. Shining for me? Yeah right. More like mocking me and my faults.

I used to admire Kendall. He gave up his dream for mine. It didn't work out like that, though. He stole my dream, and I stole his.

I wanted my dream back.

About a year back, I contacted the head coach of the Minnesota Wild. After hours of talking on the phone and emailing each other, I finally convinced him to send a recruitment letter to a Kendall Donald Knight, pop sensation and hockey god. Kendall declined.

It was clear what he wanted. He wanted my dream. And I was okay with that.

I sighed, pushing on the wheels of my wheelchair. I didn't know where I was going, and I didn't care. It was just like the time I ran away after the audition so many years ago. This time, though, Kendall wouldn't be there to carry me home.

Something deep down inside me wished he would be.

I wheeled myself into a bar. It wasn't anything like the nightclubs I partied in as a teenager, but it was nice. I was surrounded by adults, not dancing girls.

"Holy shit!" a younger looking man exclaimed, jumping off of his bar stool. "You're James Diamond!"

I smirked and nodded. "Did the wheelchair give it away?"

He jumped over to me, helping me sit in a barstool. "Well yeah, but your face isn't something people easily forget either." I smiled. "I saw Crosby check you into the boards, though. That looked painful." I cringed, smile long gone. Sidney Crosby was the center of the Penguins, and he hated me. I wasn't surprised when he was the one shoving me against the glass, ruining the rest of my season.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked, motioning towards the bartender on the other side of the bar. I smirked at him. "Sure, if you want to."

The kid got back out of his seat and walked over to the bartender, waiting for his turn to order for the two of us.

"So, James Diamond accepted a pity drink? There's something I would've never expected. But then again, you being a hockey player is equally surprising." the man two seats down from me stated, hands wrapped around a half empty beer glass.

I studied him, noticing the way he slouched, the way his hair almost covered his face, the Ray Bans perched on his nose. I scowled. "Because whenever I see someone wearing sunglasses at night in New York, I never assume that they're a douche."

He turned his head slightly to look at me. "There's something I never missed. Your sarcasm."

"Why'd you never answer my calls?"

He shook his head, laughing to himself. "You really dont know? You're not as smart as people think you are. Though, I've never thought you were smart to begin with."

I rolled my eyes. "Is there a list of things you hate about me or something? Or is today just hate on James Diamond day?"

"More like a list. Theres no way in hell I'd know about a day involving you. Want me to go down it?"

I glanced down at my watch. "Why not, I've got time."

"Your attitude. The way you thought you were better than everyone. The way you cared so much about your god damned image. Why you spent hours in the bathroom everyday, I'll never know. Should I continue?" he asked, sipping from his glass.

The kid was walking back over towards us, drinks in hand. "You know what? Maybe we could continue this the next time we see each other. You know, to give us something to talk about."

He smirked, finishing his drink. "You mean, in four years? By mistake? Sure, why not." and with that, he pushed away from the bar and left.

The kid raised his eyebrow, motioning to the retreating figure. "You know him?"

I shrugged, gulping down some beer. "I'm pretty sure everyone does."

His eyebrows came together. "He might've looked a little familiar. Does he play hockey?"

I sighed. "Not anymore."

The kid took a drink of his beer, thinking. "Then who was he?"

I took another swig from my glass. "Kendall Knight."

I found myself bored most of the time. Hockey practice took up most of my time. When I wasn't doing that, I was working out or sleeping. With my leg broken, I couldn't skate. That left working out and sleeping. But there were only so many ways to work out your upper body.

I traded my wheelchair for a pair of crutches. It was hard enough walking through the city, let along wheeling yourself. Kendall's billboards towered over me as I moved along through the crowds. He was ending yet another tour, his last stop in Madison Square Garden. The tickets sold out in under ten seconds.

"Look, James, you can't come to practice," my coach told me yet again over the phone. I was going insane. I needed something to do. "But look, if you are that bored, can you do me a favor?"

I accepted immediately. Anything would be better than sitting around my apartment all day.

"Good. Can you take Rachel to a concert tonight? You know how safe she feels around you. She loves you. Plus, backstage passes. Are you in?" Rachel was Coach's sixteen year old daughter. He was right, she did love me. She came to almost every practice. My team joked around that she had a crush on me sometimes. Sometimes, I agreed.

If I said no, she would probably have to go with a butler or driver. The driving age in the city was eighteen, after all. At least she'd have more fun with me, right? And- I didn't need my crutches.

"I'm in."

Thinking back, it would've been smart to ask what concert we were going to. Or I could've just assumed. What concert would a sixteen year old girl want to go see? Kendall Knight.

"Thank you so much, James!" Rachel said as we pulled into the parking lot. We were late, but it didn't matter. We had parking passes.

I smiled as I pulled my Aston into a spot. "No problem, sweetie."

The concert was full of screaming girls. I'm pretty sure I was the only guy my age there, let alone guy in general. The only other ones I spotted were excited teens and grumpy dads, pecking at their phones the whole time. Probably checking to see how much longer they'd have to stand there. Either that, or plotting on a good time to blame traffic and drag their screaming daughters out of there.

Lucky for me, I didn't have that excuse.

Kendall was great on stage. I remembered when the band first started, all of those vigorous dance lessons with Mr. X and hours of harmonies. They paid off for Kendall, obviously. He was doing amazing.

The concert ended sooner than I thought it would. Looking down at my watch, I was shocked. We'd been here for three hours, yet it only felt like one.

Rachel intertwined our fingers, dragging me towards back stage. I would've pulled my hand out of hers, but I was too distracted by my thoughts. Where did the time go?

After a few minutes of walking, we ended up down a crowded hallway. People with passes were let through a pair of double doors. People like us.

"I wonder if he would ever date me." Rachel stated dreamily as we entered the back stage area.

I sighed, shaking my head. "He's twenty four, honey. That's not exactly legal."

She looked at me, eyes wide. "You know how old Kendall is? How?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but someone else beat me to it. A blonde someone else. "Isn't she a little young, James? Or did everyone else reject you?"

I rolled my eyes, turning around to face my old friend. "It turns out most of the older, attractive women I ask out aren't interested in your concerts, Kendall."

He smirked, leaning against a wall. "Well, there's that sarcasm I love again."

Rachel stood next to me, eyes wide. "James...you know Kendall?" she asked slowly. I nodded. "Yup."

She shrieked. "Oh my god! How?"

Kendall put his hand on her shoulder. "Believe it or not, sweetie, I was supposed to be the star hockey player out of the two of us."

She turned to look up at me. "You played hockey together? Oh my gosh! That's so cool! Did you sing together?"

Kendall and I nodded, a scowl on my face. "That was a really long time ago, though. Five years, was it?"

She hugged me tightly. "And to think you might not have come with me! But I want a soda. I'll be back, James!"

Kendall smirked at me while she walked away. "She's in love with you. But really, why are you here? Didn't wanna wait four more years to see me?"

I scoffed. "I would've preferred longer. But that's Coach's pride and joy. I'd do anything for her. Even suffer through one of your stupid concerts." That was a lie. That was a huge lie. I didn't suffer at all. I just couldn't give Kendall the satisfaction.

"Right, right. So if that letter really was for me, I'd be the one suffering through your concerts with a fourteen year old?"

I frowned. "Sixteen. And yeah, sure, something like that."

He crossed his arms over his chest, still leaning on the wall. "I think it's funny that you got the Wild to send me a letter, you know."

I leaned next to him, watching Rachel across the room. "It wasn't supposed to be a joke."

"Yeah, but unlike you, I don't take things out of pity." He smirked yet again. "And besides, who else would there be to steal your dream?"

I clenched my jaw. "That's what this is all about? Getting even?"

He turned to look at me, fists now at his side. "You never had to accept that letter, James."

"And what was I supposed to do?" I exclaimed, shoving off the wall to get in his face. "We were running out of money, Kendall. I needed a job!"

He shoved my backwards. "Not my job!"

We were both breathing heavily, fists clenched at our sides. The entire room was silent, watching. I quickly reached for Rachel, pulling her towards the door.

A hand shot out, grabbing mine. Kendall jotted something out with an official 'Kendall Knight' pen. He let my hand go when he was done, letting me leave with Rachel.

"What was that about?" she asked, as we made our way to the parking lot.

I shrugged, looking down at my hand. "It's been a while, sweetie. That's all."

The letters stared at me, black on white skin. It was an address.

I ignored it for a few days after, the lettered itching on my skin. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I wouldn't let him win. His billboards stared me down on a daily basis, anyway. I could only take so much of Kendall.

There weren't many things to do to consume my time. Somehow, by the end of the week, I was standing outside of his presidential suite. I raided my fist hesitantly, knocking. He answered within moments.

"You lack a sense of urgency. Something else to add to your list."

I pushed passed him, walking inside his large hotel room. "Why'd you want me to come here?"

I turned around, facing him where he stood by the door.

"Can't I just miss my old best friend?" Old best friend. I rolled my eyes.

"Whats the real reason?"

He slowly made his way towards me, stopping inches away. I didn't back off when he didn't. He wouldn't win.

His hand came up to my chest, lazily tracing patterns. "You know how they always told us to forget? To focus on our careers and nothing else?" He asked, eyes locked with mine. I nodded slowly, confused. His hand stopped moving, instead, gripping my shirt. "I never forgot." He pulled me down slightly, pulling our mouths together.

Kissing Kendall was like kissing a god. He was a god, to some people. Like in my moms eyes. I was her athletic son, the one she was proud of, but not enough to endorse with her own company. Kendall, though, 'reached out to the right audience'. If she could pick sons, she'd pick him. Because he was better than me, always.

Ever since that night in the club bathroom, I've wanted to know. If Kendall really wanted me, or if it was just the alchohol talking. If it was only a one time thing. If he felt the same way I did.

"I hate how you always acted like an idiot when we all knew you weren't." Kendall breathed out before pushing me against a wall, lips on mine again.

"I...I hate how everyone assumed you were the leader of the group." I gasped out in between rough kisses, clinging to him as we made our way down a short hallway.

"I hate how you spent so much time with random girls." My shirt was thrown on the floor, along with his. Our hands wandered across each others bare skin, mapping out the planes of muscle and flesh as we continued. The back of my legs hit his bed, sending us tumbling backwards. I flinched as pain shot through my knee.

"Me? I hate how you spent every waking moment with Jo." Kendall's fingers were working on my belt, pulling it loose from my pants. Once it was free, his hand disappeared down the front of my pants.

"I hate your mommy issues."

I gasped as Kendall gripped my hard self, fingers sliding below the fabric of my boxers. "I hate your daddy issues."

"You're not one to talk. You have them too." He mumbled before attatching our lips again, jerking me off. I moaned, thrusting against him.

As much as it pained me, I knew that I never hated Kendall. I was hopelessly in love with him from the start, his talents and personality, even his anger management problems. That moment in the bathroom started it all, sparking wet dreams and sex fantasies deep inside me. I imagined his hands moving down my sides like they were just doing. I imagined him thrusting into me like he just was. I imagined him kissing me passionately, leaving me breatheless like I was right now. My dreams became reality.

It was weird now, though. his hands were smooth against my skin as we moved against eachother. He wasn't the hockey player from Minesota anymore. He was Kendall Knight, national superstar and singing sensation.

"You've changed, James," Kendall breathed out once we were done, face half burried in his pillow.

I raised an eyebrow, eyes locked with his. "How?"

He reached out, gripping my hand. "You have calluses. Bruises. More muslces than before, believe it or not."

I smiled. "And now you're the opposite. It was weird, to tell you the truth. You're supposed to be Kendall Knight, the hockey player. You should be the one with all the calluses, not me."

Kendall brushed his hand over my cheek. "It was supposed to happen this way. It makes perfect sence, if you think about it."

My eyebrows came together. "I dont understand."

"I'm a star now, James. And I shine for you."

Did it suck as badly as I felt like it did? You should review:P you know...let me know and all.

Thanks for reading(: