A/N: I need someone to, like, tweet or Tumblr message me when it's been a week since my last EotA update.

Then again, no, because there's two updates after this and I really need to get a move on with making Christmas presents.

Speaking of, don't ever make a stuffed minion. It's damn near impossible.

Um. Don't think I need to cover my ass on anything. To all the American readers of this, Happy You Guys Stole Other People's Land Day Thanksgiving! Enjoy all the food and family! To everyone else in the world, Happy Thursday! Or Tuesday, since today is Tuesday. WHICH OMFG IT'S "AGENTS OF SHIELD" DAY, YOU GUYS! "AGENTS OF SHIELD" DAAAAAAY!

Okay gonna go now while my notes are relatively short. *mwahs* :D

James' cock inside of him was as close to perfect as Kendall was ever gonna feel. He knew he didn't deserve to feel this good, that all his actions were pretty much guaranteeing him a one-way ticket to Hell, but he didn't care. He'd spend a thousand eternities at Satan's place if it meant he got to feel this small piece of Heaven.

The brunet's broad frame pressed him into his mattress, their breath mingling, bare chests sliding together. He moved in slow, languid thrusts that were a mix of torture and pleasure, straddling the thin line between too much and not enough. Each stroke rubbed his walls perfectly, grazing his prostate, making him groan with nearly every exhale.

His head was nudged to the side, James nuzzling behind his ear. Kendall's eyes barely noticed the contents of his room, the gray walls and black furniture all seeming further away than they really were. Teeth sank into his neck, making him cry out as the pain/pleasure of it made his dick twitch between their bodies.

He turned his head back to capture the elder male's lips in a frenzied kiss, the action sloppy as long, deep strokes became short, hard pounds. Moans were forced out with each thrust, green eyes locking onto hazel-green ones.

James was truly beautiful like this: thin sheen of sweat over his skin, hair matted to his forehead, cheeks red, kiss-swollen lips parted. But it was his eyes that really completed the look and made the picture perfect. The pupils were blown, lids halfway down, the browns and greens brighter yet darker. The pleasure he was feeling was written all over his face and Kendall felt a skip in his heartbeat at the knowledge that he was causing it.

James groaned his name out, burying his head in the crook of the smaller male's neck, thrusts returning to their leisurely pace. "Love you," he breathed out.

Kendall wrapped his arms around his broad frame tighter, fingers trying to grab onto slippery skin and flexing muscles. He swore under his breath at one particularly good stroke, nuzzling his scruff covered cheek against the other male's. "Love you, too."

He felt a smile against his shoulder before the brunet raised his head and allowed him to see it. A quick adjustment of their bodies and he was pounding into the blond once more, not showing any mercy as he took what he wanted.

Kendall moaned loudly, head rearing back, balls drawing up and spine tingling. He was gonna come, was gonna explode, was gonna—

Break his fucking alarm into a million tiny pieces.

Kendall's eyes popped open, hand blindly slapping around the top of his nightstand before finally shutting the aggravating noise off.

He let out a long groan as he rubbed his eyes roughly, trying to get his mind right. A dream. The whole thing had been a dream. James was still on tour, he was still stuck in Minnesota, and they hadn't spoken in four days.

Today was day five.

Dropping his hands, he looked down at himself in an attempt to further get with it. He'd fallen asleep on top of the covers, fully dressed, Lit textbook open on his lap. Apparently, Beowulf wasn't as interesting as his teacher had made it seem.

He closed the book and put it to the side before grabbing his iPhone, lighting the screen up. No new messages. His heart sank a little under the weight of crushed hope. Then again, James hadn't tried to contact him since Tuesday. Maybe he'd given up like Kendall wanted.

The thought made his heart sink further, down into their basement, and he was hit with a sudden urge to get under the comforter and never come out again.

No.

He needed to shower and head to school, get good grades, be a better guy. He couldn't do that while acting like a depressed, anti-social mole.

He frowned at that analogy before shaking it off. He didn't have time to dwell on his brain's nonsensical metaphor.

Figuring he was as awake as he was gonna get, he got off the bed and shuffled his way into the bathroom for a shower. Clothing stripped off and water heated up, he stepped under the spray.

A satisfied grown escaped him at the pleasureful sensation, eyes drifting shut. His hand tried to work out a kink in the back of his neck caused by sleeping in a slightly unusual position, which reminded him of the dream he'd had—first one in a while that he was aware of. Combined with the memory of the showers he and James had shared and his dick sprang back to life.

Fucking awesome.

Tilting his head down, he took in the sight of his hardened cock jutting out from him, wet from precome and the shower spray. Chances were pretty high that had his alarm not gone off and his dream allowed to continue, he would've woken up with a mess in his boxers and a possible smile on his face. But as it was, his orgasm was still lurking justthere, making his dick throb with achy need. And since there was no way he'd be getting laid any time soon...

His hand wrapped around the shaft, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to hold back any noises. He was gonna have to make it quick so his mom wouldn't show up wondering why he wasn't downstairs eating breakfast yet. Probably best not to think about his mom at that moment though...

With quick motions, he stroked himself, hips thrusting into his grip. He thought of the dream he'd just had of James fucking him. He remembered when the singer had actually done that in real life, how he felt inside the blond, the way he filled and stretched him, how he would alternate between long, slow thrusts and quick, shallow ones.

Suddenly jacking himself off wasn't enough.

Kendall switched hands so his left was wrapped around his cock before sucking two fingers in his mouth, coating them in saliva, then reaching around behind himself. He rubbed the pad of one finger over and around his hole, the sting pretty much gone. Gingerly, he slid a finger inside, gasping at the invasion before biting his lip harder.

His hand had stopped moving so he started stroking himself once more, finger fully inserted in his hole. He exhaled harshly through his nose, experimentally tugging at the tight ring of muscle. It burned more than usual, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle and could easily be attributed to a lack of proper lubrication. Feeling impatient, he pulled his finger out and immediately slid two inside.

Kendall cried out at the sensation of having something inside him once more, at the slight sting of stretching his hole that hadn't fully recovered. But the pain just added to the pleasure as his fingers moved in and out, causing whimpers to leave him as he bit his lip again.

Gradually the sting subsided, his hips moving in rhythm with his fingers. His mind flashed back to when James had his slender digits buried in him, readying him for his cock. He remembered the feel of them, the way they rubbed his inner-walls, how his tongue would be brought into play, licking in and around his hole.

He groaned loudly, eyes drifting closed as his head tilted back. He imagined that the fingers inside him belonged to the brunet, that the water droplets sliding down his skin were his other digits teasing him. He thought of how James would mess with him, tantalizing him with soft touches that would drive him insane and make him hotter. He recalled how his fingers would scissor, twist, rub, pressing against his prostate and making him cry out.

Curving his fingers, he did just that, left hand flying out and slapping against the wet tile. He struggled to find a grip, finally settling on just leaving his palm flat against the wall, head hanging down. His fingers were moving faster now, rubbing at his prostate, making him pant wildly. He felt shaky all over as his orgasm neared, balls drawing up tight, spine tingling.

"C'mon, Kendall," he heard James' voice growl in his head. "Come for me. Lemme see you fall apart."

The memory of the brunet's sex-roughened voice made him do just that, his orgasm spurting out in thick ropes that spattered against the tile. Kendall cried out a swear and the other male's name, fingers still moving, hips stuttering as they thrust back and forth against nothing. Spent, he collapsed forward, forehead against his arm as it lay flat against the wall.

It took him a moment or two to recover, for his breathing and heart rate to return to normal. When he had, he carefully slid his fingers out, wincing. It stung a little more than usual, although he wasn't sure if it was because he hadn't fully healed up or a result of no lube. Either way, the pain wasn't really anything when compared to the ache in his chest. While his body had been satisfied, the rest of him felt... empty, hollow. And he knew why. His mind might've tricked him into believing that James had been there, that James had been the one who'd caused that pleasure, but he hadn't been. The cold bite of reality was sinking its teeth into his jugular, causing him to bleed down the shower drain, leaving him an empty shell once again.

Fucking awesome.

Unable to stand his shower anymore, Kendall quickly washed and got out, wrapping a towel around his waist before padding into his bedroom. He ignored the sight of his bed, the location for the previous night's x-rated revery, heading straight to his bureau. He dried off in fast, rough motions, dressing in whatever random jeans and longsleeve he pulled out his drawers and closet. Gathering his school supplies at lightning speed, he grabbed his boots and hurried out his room, down to the kitchen.

His pace slowed considerably by the time he reached the landing near the bottom of the stairs, turning and taking the last three with lumbering steps. He shuffled his way into the kitchen, finding his mom in there by herself emptying the dishwasher.

She twisted her head at the sound of someone entering the room, giving her son a smile and a "mornin', sweetie."

Kendall grunted in response as he slid onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar, not entirely in the mood for human interaction. At least it was a Friday. He could spend the weekend locked in his room, wallowing in his misery, using the excuse that he was busy studying. Yeah, it probably went against his New Kendall Plan, but whatever. He'd fucking earned the weekend off.

His mom's brow furrowed as she glanced at him while taking glasses out the top rack of the dishwasher. "You okay?"

"Not really," he mumbled, folding his arms on top of the counter and training his eyes downward.

"You wanna talk about it?"

In all honesty, he really did. At least at that moment in time. He wanted to tell his mom that he hadn't been lying about going to Cali to meet up with James Diamond and that it was more than just a celeb crush. He wanted to tell her all the details about their whirlwind romance—minus the more x-rated moments, of course. He wanted to tell her that it was killing him inside to not be able to talk to him, despite it pretty much being his own fault for the lack of communication between them. He wanted to tell her that he was pretty sure he was in love with the singer and that he kinda felt like maybe the feeling was mutual.

He wanted to. But he couldn't.

The words got caught somewhere in his throat and he cleared it, hoping to loosen them up and help them on their way out his mouth and into her ears. Only it didn't happen. They died, along with any hope of making his mom understand that it wasn't just some delusion or wishful thinking.

Frowning, he stared down at his thumb as it rubbed over the countertop, mind racing as it tried to think up a way to talk to his mom and get her take on things without sounding crazy.

"Kendall?" she prompted, making him realize he hadn't actually responded to her offer of listening to whatever was upsetting him.

Unable to look at her, he spoke lowly, quietly, almost in disbelief that he was saying something, no matter how vague. "What would you do if you were in love with someone, but couldn't tell anyone, including that person?"

"Why can't you tell them?" she questioned back, walking over and standing on the opposite side of the breakfast bar from him.

Once again, he had the perfect in needed to get the ball rolling and tell her the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And once again, he pussed out. "Extenuating circumstances."

She gave him a "hmm" that could've meant any number of things: disapproval at whatever she believed he was hiding, annoyance at him hiding it, understanding that certain things just can't be talked about for whatever reason. "Is this about that guy in Cali?"

Kendall nodded, finding it humorous that the world knew him as "That Kendall Guy from Minnesota", a relative nobody, but in his house, the celeb half of his barely there relationship was "That Guy in Cali", the unknown person with a moniker based on their location.

His mom sighed softly, sympathy on her face and in her voice. "Personally, I think you should tell him, but if you can't—" She paused to gather her thoughts, tucking her hair behind her hair. "—then you should try to show it somehow. Text him, e-mail, call, whatever. Just let him know you'll always be there for him, no matter what, and believe that one day, the circumstances will change and allow you to say how you feel."

He nodded more, taking her words in. What she said made a lotta sense, but unfortunately for him, it wasn't all that applicable. For starters, he'd been on the mindset of letting James go and her advice was more for holding onto him.

Although really, that didn't seem like a bad thing.

At least it wasn't a bad thing for him. Fuck only knew what kinda disaster it would be for the brunet.

"So this guy," his mom began, drawing his attention. "Is he the reason why you've been so up and down with your emotions the past couple months and why you disappeared last weekend and why you're now lumbering around the house like a teenage zombie?"

"Yeah," he hissed out, wincing. His left hand rubbed the back of his neck, head raising to look at her. "Sorry about taking off like that," he apologized, genuinely meaning it and hoping she could hear the sincerity in his voice. "I honestly didn't mean to worry you or anything. I—" He paused, dropping his hand on the counter and playing with his fingers. His mind struggled to come up with a good reason for his behavior, one that didn't make him seem like an uncaring douchelord who was only thinking of himself and not giving a fuck who was affected by his decisions and how.

Basically, he was asking the impossible.

Staring at his hand, he continued, speaking lowly once more. "Guess I was just thinking more with my heart than my head."

Flicking his eyes up, he peered at his mom, hoping she wouldn't be too pissed at his selfish excuse. But instead, he saw a small sympathetic smile tugging up the corner of her lips, a glimmer of understanding sparkling in her eyes.

"I get it," she said softly.

His brow furrowed as he fully raised his head to her. "You do?"

She nodded, still smiling. "That's how I ended up with you," she informed him before leaning over the counter. Cupping his face in both her hands, she looked him dead in the eye as she spoke. "And I don't regret a thing."

Kendall didn't bother fighting the small grin that formed on his face. A huge sense of relief washed over him knowing his mom didn't regret having him, wasn't upset or pissed at how her life turned out, and most of all, still loved him, despite all the shit he put her through.

"Now," she started sharply, releasing his face and straightening up. "You really wanna stop worrying me, eat some damn breakfast!" Her voice got louder at the end of her statement, eyes hard as they locked onto his, letting him know she wasn't fucking around.

"All right, all right," he placated, rising from his stool and heading around the breakfast bar into the main part of the kitchen. Seemed like things were okay between him and his mom, especially if he continued on his self-improvement track he'd been on. And who the fuck knew, maybe he'd be able to locate his balls and deal with this shit with James.

He grabbed a pack of Pop Tarts, taking them out the silver foil wrapper and sticking them in the toaster. He depressed the levers as he heard the sounds of the dishwasher and cabinets being closed behind him. A sympathetic hand rubbed between his shoulder blades, his mom stepping into his peripheral vision and heading towards the door that led to the living room, only to stop when he called her name.

"I love you," he reminded her, refusing to think how long it'd been since he'd said those words to her. "And I'm sorry."

She gave him a small smile. "I know," she confirmed, walking back over and kissing his cheek. "And I love you, too. And whatever is going on between you and that guy, if it's meant to happen, it will. If he cares about you as much as you care about him, then he'll put forth the effort and help make it happen. Relationships are a two-way street and take a lotta work, but it's worth it in the end."

He turned away from her, head tilted down as he nodded. She was right once again, only she wasn't aware that the only one who seemed to even be on that street was James.

She kissed his cheek again and ruffed his hair, giving a disapproval grumble at the length. Without another word, she spun around and exited the kitchen, leaving Kendall alone with his thoughts.

A very dangerous place to be.

His iPhone was taunting him.

Okay, that wasn't entirely sure. iPhones can't talk, much less mess with one's head. But that wasn't what it felt like at that moment.

Kendall's purpose in going to the school library was to kill time during lunch hour by getting some studying done. He felt like a ginormous fucking geek doing it, but it was kind of his only option. Carlos was off retaking a test and he wasn't in the mood to deal with Lucy or any of his other stoner friends, so he opted for doing some reading.

Only that wasn't happening.

Instead, Kendall sat slouched in his seat, textbook open in front of him, fingers rubbing his iPhone through the denim of his jeans as it sat in his pocket. All he could think about was what he could do with that device and how. He could head to the bathroom and call James, break it off that way. He could slip the phone out and hide it under the table as he sent a text or email. He could even go to the computer lab and send an email that way. Countless ways to officially end things with James, yet he wasn't doing any of them.

He mentally debated if he was pussing out by not contacting the brunet, or if trying to end things without giving them a real shot was the puss-tacular move. Either way, not the manliest courses of action.

A heavy sigh left him as he leaned his head against the back of the chair. God, he wish he knew what to do. Seemed like no matter which way he went, it was gonna hurt, and not just himself. But it was better to hurt James now than in the future when emotions were further invested and they were more vulnerable than ever.

'Course there was no guarantee that things were gonna end badly. It could just be his constant pessimism, getting into his head and convincing that their relationship would be a disaster.

Or he could be right about it being a bad idea.

Fuck, he wished he had someone to talk to.

A light bulb went off in his head and pulled out his iPhone, quickly typing up a text to Camille.

'u free this afternoon? need ur advice.'

He hit send before putting the device on top of the table, his leg shaking, teeth nibbling on his nearly non-existent thumbnail. He stared at his iPhone as though he could somehow magically will a response to appear, focusing on it so much he didn't notice the presence of another person.

"Hey."

Kendall practically jumped in his seat, head snapping to the left to see Lucy standing next to the round table. His brow furrowed as he let out a puzzled "hey", sliding back down to his original slouched position. "What're you doing here?"

She shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly, hand gripping the strap of her messenger bag. "Lookin' for you."

He rolled his eyes, allowing the annoyance he was feeling seep into his voice. "I already told you, I don't wanna ge—"

"I'm not here about that," she interrupted before sliding into the seat on her left and folding her hands on top of the table. "I get it. You don't wanna get high, no biggie."

Confusion and skepticism had his eyebrow raising, not entirely sure if he believed her or not. "Really? Then why are you looking for me?"

Her black-lined eyes roamed the library, body shuffling uncomfortably in the wooden seat. Whatever she was about to say was gonna be good.

She cleared her throat as she returned her gaze to him, back ramrod straight, face all business. "Look, whatever I did or said yesterday that pissed you off, I'm sorry." She was only half-mocking as she said it, making Kendall's eyebrows raise in surprise. She was as much for apologies as he used to be.

"Except for that part where I kicked you. You deserved that."

Okay, that sounded more like Lucy.

Kendall didn't entirely agree with her belief that he'd earned the bruise on his side, but wasn't in the mood to argue. Chances were he'd just receive another black mark somewhere. Two were enough for him at the moment.

His iPhone screen lit up with a new text alert and he grabbed it up from where it sat. He felt relief hit him when he saw it was from Camille, quickly sliding his thumb across the screen to read it.

'got play rehearsals til 6, should be free anytime after 7. i'll call u when i'm free to chat. i'm assuming u have some sorta phone privileges since ur textin me. u still owe me a rundown of the weekend, fyi ;) :P'

He rolled her eyes at her final sentence, thinking it was completely typical of her.

Lucy leaned over, trying to peer at the screen. "Who ya texting?"

"A friend," he muttered, more focused on typing his reply than satisfying her curiosity.

"What kind of friend?"

Nosy much?

He sent Camille a promise to fill her in on everything before looking at the female sitting next to him. "Just a friend," he informed her, eyebrow cocked in question, wondering why she was asking all this shit.

Lucy held her hands up in innocence as she leaned back in her seat, spine thumping against the back of it. "Just wonderin'," she explained nonchalantly, picking at her black nail polish as her hands sat on the table. "You seem like you've been dumped."

Kendall winced at that, hand working the back of his neck. "Don't think I've been," he responded with a frown.

"Sooo, you are dating someone?"

Okay, seriously, what the fuck? Lucy never asked about what was going on in his life—other than what his plans were for that night. It was a huge part of why he started hanging out with her, loving that he could escape all the bullshit that was going on with his step-dad bailing and his family falling apart and his own confusion over his sexuality. He didn't have to constantly rip open still raw wounds by talking about it or discussing how he felt. He could just get drunk and/or high and totally forget about anything and everything negative.

So why she was suddenly asking about his personal life was something he couldn't even begin to figure out.

Unless...she knew.

No. No fucking way. Lucy hated James Diamond. There was no chance in hell that she'd be aware of any fandom rumors involving the singer and "That Kendall Guy from Minnesota".

Which brought him back to his puzzlement over her questioning him and his personal life.

He cocked an eyebrow at her for the umpteenth time giving her a narrow-eyed glare of suspicion. "Why are you asking?"

She shrugged a shoulder, lips pouted, acting like the whole thing wasn't that big a deal. "Curiosity."

He still wasn't convinced. "Why?" He felt like a three year old stuck in their "why" phase, repeating the one word question over and over to the point when the parent screams "just because!" or "I don't know!" in order to get their kid to shut the fuck up. And while that behavior would typically amp up his annoyance—even if he was the one guilty of using the word too many times to count—at that moment, he didn't give a fuck. He needed to know what his friend was getting at, why she was being so invasive, why any of it really mattered to her.

Her black-lined eyes were locked onto her fingers, almost like she was more interested in her chipped nail polish than giving him an answer. Or maybe she was trying to figure out what the remnants of her polish appeared to be, since they kinda resembled Rorschach tests at that point.

Kendall didn't think she'd see any pretty, pretty butterflies in 'em though.

"Just tryna figure out what happened to you over the past couple months," she explained, almost sounding bored.

"Oh." His mouth remained in the 'O' formation, part of him feeling bad for blowing off his friend over the summer. Then again, it wasn't like they'd had all these plans made, promises to spend all their free time together, shit like that. Besides, he liked who he was now—other than the depressed zombie parts—and Lucy tended to be a pretty bad influence.

Not that he ever really said "no" to her or anything.

Until yesterday. And she understand that he wasn't gonna get high anymore and was okay with it. So Lucy during school hours was all right, and he didn't really know much of her outside of school since all their hangs involved booze and bongs. A solid foundation to any friendship really.

Whatever. Point was he kinda felt bad for ditching someone who'd been there for him when things at home were shitty—even if they didn't realize they had been. But he honestly hadn't given a fuck about who he'd left behind or who he'd hurt, too caught up in his personal bullshit once again.

Just another thing that proved James deserved better.

"So," Lucy said sharply, cutting into his thoughts and stopping the mental downward spiral before it really got going. "Are you dating anyone?"

Kendall frowned as he worked the back of his neck, honestly having no clue how to response to her. Really it wasn't like he knew the answer himself. And even if he did, he probably still wouldn't tell her. Not any of her fucking business really.

The fact that he and James still hadn't established what kinda relationship they were in nagged at the back of his mind and he cursed himself for being so easily distracted by sex. Stupid fucking teenage hormones.

He struggled to come up with an appropriate explanation for what was going on between them, since he couldn't tell her "yeah, I met this pop star and we talked on the phone for a week or so, then I flew out and spent the weekend on tour with him where we had tons of sex, but no convos defining our relationship, and now I'm grounded and punishing myself by not contacting him and hoping he'll move on to someone better, even though the thought of that makes me wanna put my actual heart in a blender 'cause it'll be less painful."

Summed things up pretty nicely though.

Wincing slightly, Kendall trained his eyes on his iPhone as it sat on top of his textbook. "It's complicated," he admitted flatly, thinking that was as good an explanation as any. Not to mention the only thing he really felt comfortable saying.

Lucy leaned back in her chair, leather jacket creaking as she folded her arms over her chest, eyebrow arched in a dare. "Try me."

'Fuck that.'

For once, he and his brain were on the same page.

He snorted as he raised his head to her. "No thanks."

His iPhone screen brightened, both of their eyes flicking to it. Only Kendall never really got the chance to see why it lit up to life—although he was assuming the cause was Camille texting back—Lucy snatched the device up before he did. He reached to grab it back, but she held it away from him, evil smirk on her face.

"This you and the guy's hands?" she questioned, pointing to the device's lockscreen.

"Yes," he sighed, exacerbated, still stretching his arm out to try and get his iPhone back. Fuck only knew what would happen if she unlocked it and saw the pic he used as his homescreen or any of the apps he had—which he should probably get rid of if he was serious about severing all ties to James Diamond.

Apparently, the Universe was still out to get him, given how Lucy was, in fact, unlocking his phone.

He really should've put a code on that thing.

Kendall rose to his feet, leaning over the table to try and snatch the device back, a renewed urgency to his movements. She put a hand on his face, shoving him back as she let out a disbelieving chuckle.

"Dude. Seriously?" She sounded as dubious as she looked, eyes still glued to his phone. "Is that James Diamond?"

Too late. Busted.

To a degree anyway.

Defeated, he slumped back into his seat, pissed she'd grabbed his phone like that, embarrassed he'd been caught with a pop star on his device.

"Yeah," he admitted, sheepish look on his face.

She turned her head to him, eyebrows raised in question and slight horror. "Seriously?" she repeated. "You like him?"

He shifted in his seat, arms crossed, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly. He didn't see anything wrong with liking the singer—at least not at that moment. A few months ago though, he definitely would have. But his opinion had been changed and he knew James better, both as an artist and as a person. Although he couldn't say any of that, not without telling a whole buncha shit he wanted to keep to himself. So instead, he acted like the whole thing was the total non-biggie that it was and tried to get her to let it go.

"What?" Kendall asked innocently. "He's hot."

Lucy's face was a mix of questioning and disgust as she sneered at him. "I guess," she placated, not sounding like she agreed with him. "If you like shallow, big-headed pretty boys with more beauty products than substance."

This time he actually managed to snatch his iPhone back, glaring at her. He felt the overwhelming urge to defend James, to smack his friend down—both metaphorically and literally—for daring to bad mouth the singer. He wanted to tell her about how driven and determined the brunet was, how caring he acted towards the teen, how he took the time to be thankful and act grateful towards each and every fan because he knew they were the ones who made him successful. James wasn't as dumb or egotistical as haters made him out to be. He was just like every other twenty-two year old guy out there, except a lot more people knew who he was.

Kendall wanted to say all that, but couldn't.

The corner of Lucy's lips turned up in a wry grin, eyes glittering with a mix of amusement and disbelief. "Wait, is that why you got pissed yesterday? 'Cause you have a thing for him?" she questioned, sounding as though she was trying to hold back a laugh.

Eyes still narrowed, he locked his iPhone and slid it into his jeans pocket, making a mental note to check Camille's text later. "Partially," he mumbled, thinking it was safe to admit that much. Plus it wasn't exactly a lie, not really, so it helped somewhat assuage the guilt he was feeling over dissing Lucy so much over the summer.

She laughed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. "Dude, reality check: he's a celeb living in LA. You're just some guy living in Minnesota. Even if you guys met through some sorta miracle, there's pretty much no chance of shit working out between you two."

He knew she meant no harm, especially considering the casual tone in which she'd spoken, but each word felt like a stab in the heart. She was right, something he was well aware of. And given the fact that he'd had those very thoughts countless times meant he couldn't deny that she'd made a very valid point.

Didn't mean it didn't hurt like a motherfucker to have it pointed out by someone else though.

His eyes turned down at the corners as he looked down at the table, absently playing with the bandana on his left wrist. His shoulders slumped, body slightly curling in like it was protecting itself, even though most of the pain was internal, emotional. Once again he was overcome by the desire to crawl into his bed and never come out.

Too bad he was at fucking school.

"Look," she started lowly, seeming sympathetic in a way, even if she didn't understand his sudden depressed mood. "Guitar Dude's having another party at his place tonight. You in? Promise I won't try and get you stoned." She said the last part in a slightly mocking tone, tiny smirk on her face as she nudged his boot with hers.

Kendall didn't look at her as he shook his head. "Can't," he replied solemnly. "Grounded."

Lucy wagged her eyebrows once in disapproval, lips twisted in an "okay then" fashion. "Well, whenever you're un-grounded and wanna hang," she trailed off as she rose to her feet, slinging her messenger bag strap over her shoulder.

Still not looking at her, he nodded absently, eyes fixated on the bandana adorning his left wrist. He heard her leave without any verbal goodbyes—typical Lucy behavior—not feeling all that bothered by her heading elsewhere. Granted being alone wasn't all that great for him, since it allowed him to think and his brain had a wonderful habit of concentrating on all things negative.

Like James and how it would never work between them.

Like Kendall's constant battle to forget the brunet and get rid of all things James related.

Like Carlos commenting on how it didn't even seem as though the blond wanted to move on, since he was still wearing the pop star's bandana.

Right. That thing clearly needed to go.

Only when his fingers gripped the knot, they didn't untie it.

Fucking hell.

He couldn't bring himself to do it, couldn't bear to part with the piece of fabric. He needed it, needed the reminder of James and their weekend together so he'd know it'd been real. He needed to see it and know that the other male cared for him more than anyone and that he'd had three beyond amazing days being shown just how much. He didn't care how much it hurt to see it, didn't care that he was ruining his happiness—and possibly his life. He just...needed it.

Thoughts of being an addict came back to him and his brow furrowed at the realization of how accurate a description that was. He was definitely a total, hardcore, extreme, there's-no-rehab-that-can-help addict.

And withdrawal fucking sucked.