A/N Thanks everybody for the reviews and patience! You guys are the bestest!
Previously on Trapped:
"This party is one of the biggest this club has ever had, live a little. You look like you've had a rough night," the waiter said sympathetically. "How about a Samuel Adam's? Or Budweiser?" The waiter added when James wrinkled his nose in confusion. Suddenly, the young boy's hazel eyes lit up with appalled realization when he recognized the names as beer.
"Beer?" James cried, taken aback. Couldn't his waiter tell he was only 17? He was about to open his mouth to say that he was underage, but he quickly shut it when the waiter placed a drink menu in front of him. He remembered being warned by Gustavo, before they attended their first party as a band, that clubs in Hollywood rarely I.D'd the celebrities, and that they should be careful and always say no when offered a drink. The 4 boys never touched a drink in their lives. They had been raised better than that. But none of James' friends were around to stop him, and the prospect of having a couple drinks was tempting.
Nobody has to know, James reasoned with himself. He lifted his head of the table and gave the waiter a smile.
"What do you recommend?"
"Everyone's been ordering these tonight," the young waiter said, pointing to a picture of shot glasses on the menu.
"Oh. What are 'Nuclear Jag-ger bombs?" James asked, pronouncing the drink exactly as it was spelled. The waiter arched his eyebrows in amusement. He realized this boy was completely inexperienced with drinking. This would be fun.
"Those are 'Jagerbombs,'" The waiter explained. "They're shots mixed with Redbull and Jagermeister, and Nuclear just means they're made with a shot of vodka."
"Oh, ok," James said. He never even heard of Jagermeister before, but he loved Redbull. And besides, the drinks looked really small, so what could it hurt?
"I'll have one then." James said. His stomach dropped at his own words, yet he felt a rush of excitement run through his veins. He was guilty and exhilarated at the same time. He had never ordered a grown-up drink before. He felt like he was at his 21st birthday.
"Just one?" The waiter asked. "How about I bring you 3? First one's on me. I know you'll love 'em."
James bit his lip, wondering if 3 of them were a good idea. They were awfully small though…
"Deal," James said. The waiter smiled and announced thst would he would be right back. A few short minutes later, James was holding his very first drink in his hand, eyeing the brownish liquid with excitement. He expected to be nervous, at the very least. Any normal day and his stomach would have been gnawed raw with guilt, but for some reason he didn't pay any attention to the idea that it would be illegal and morally wrong to drink the poison liquid that he was staring down. It never crossed his mind that it was dangerous, addicting, or that if his friends found out they would be tragically disappointed in him. And it wasn't like he didn't know all of that in the back of his conscious, he just literally didn't care. He ignored what he should have been feeling and brought the shot glass to his lips. He gulped down the burning substance with a gagging cough. His eyes watered and his throat felt like it was on fire. He blinked rapidly and choked while trying to swallow every drop.
"You alright?" The waiter asked, feeling kind of bad that he made the poor kid choke. But James looked up and grinned, already feeling the rush of the toxic, strong alcohol mix.
"Whoa," Was all James could say, and the waiter laughed, taking another shot off his tray. The blonde knew for a fact that the kid would not be able to stand up by the time he was finished. He didn't feel one ounce of remorse for being the one to make James terribly drunk. He thought it was funny.
James took the glass from the waiter, his hand already shaking. This glass was easier to drink. It still burned, but it was smoother and he didn't choke him this time. A rush of heat ran through his blood and warmed his stomach, and he noticed with pleasant surprise that the pounding headache deep in his skull was completely gone. Suddenly, all of his senses were heightened by fifty percent. Noises were louder, the lights were brighter, and he felt warm and tingly.
"You ok? Jagerbombs work pretty fast," the waiter said. He wanted to get the kid drunk, not kill him, and he already seemed buzzed.
"I'm great," James said, reaching for the 3rd and final shot. He didn't even notice the way his words slurred, or how when he tried to grab the drink the waiter had to place it in his hands because he was off by several inches.
After the 3rd drink, it didn't even dawn on James that he was drunk, despite the fact that his mind was buzzing pleasantly and he felt strange. Like he was lightheaded again only this time it didn't make him feel sick. Truthfully, he felt good. Alert and happy, instead of exhausted and ill like he had been 15 minutes ago. When he tried to talk and joke with the waiter, he had to shout to hear his own voice because his ears were ringing. When he made a move to get up and go to the dance floor, the waiter caught his arm.
"Whoa, careful you'll fall on your face," the young man warned. James found this hilariously funny and started laughing so hard he wheezed.
"I won't-I won't fall," James slurred loudly. He hauled himself up off of the booth and the world spun around him. The purple, flashing lights were like a sporadic tornado, and the floor felt like a rollercoaster. He started cracking up laughing at this. The waiter laughed too, entertained by the young, drunken boy. He dared James to go hit on a brunette young actress who was swaying her hips in a red dress on the dance floor, surrounded by guys watching her. He gladly accepted the dare, put on his best sexy face, and stumbled to the dance floor to unknowingly flirt with a girl whose boyfriend was just feet away.
~~~~~~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~~~~
Carlos had had enough of sulking in the corner of the crowded nightclub. He hoped that by now James had cooled down so that they could finally go home. He searched through the hundreds of people for his friend, but could not see the familiar face among all of the celebrities.
"James!" Carlos cried, but his voice was carried away by the blaring bass and loud voices. The Latino was getting worried now. He hadn't seen James in half an hour, and he was willing to apologize or whatever it would take to go home. He didn't like this club. There were a lot of underage kids drinking martinis and beer as if it were soda. It wasn't his scene. It actually kind of scared him. Carlos was innocent. He would much rather spend his night playing video game with his friends than party, and at a club like this, he only felt safe with his buddies at his side.
"James come on I wanna go home!" Carlos yelled when, for the 6th time, a skimpy-dressed girl tried to hit on him. He hurried to the dance floor, hoping James would be there, but all he could see was a circle of people. He could hear what sounded like a fight breaking out in the middle of it all. Carlos rolled his eyes. He didn't understand why people wanted to waste their nights getting drunk and getting into brawls. It didn't sound very fun.
Carlos poked his head through the circle to see if any of the onlookers were James. He sighed when he didn't see his friend anywhere. Carlos' stomach was in knots now, and he was close to tears. He felt lost in this giant club, unprotected and alone. He needed James.
A purple light flashed in the circle and Carlos got a quick glimpse of dark, long, perfect brown hair that looked oddly like James'. The Latino jumped up and down, trying to see over all of the people in front of him that were blocking his view. He tried to push through the crowd, but it was too tight and they were too focused on the fight that was brewing to even notice the small boy was trying to get through. Finally he crouched onto his hands and knees and crawled through the crowd's legs until he was inside of the circle.
"James, no!" Carlos screeched. He had looked up just in time to see a beefy hand belonging to a large guy collide with James' jaw. The Latino watched his friend fall to the wood floor with a painful thud. James writhed on the ground, clutching his throbbing face. The thug who punched him leaned over, about to deliver a blow to his stomach, but Carlos sprang to his feet and jumped onto the older guy's back, stunning him.
"That's my brother!" Carlos screamed.
"Get off of me!" The guy bellowed, throwing himself backwards to dislodge the hyper boy on his back, but Carlos held on tightly and pounded his fist into the back of his neck. He sneaked a glance to the floor to see how James was doing. He was holding his jaw with one hand while struggling to get up. He seemed very dizzy and Carlos wondered if he had hit his head.
The distraction proved to be a handicap to Carlos. He was thrown off of the larger guy's back and a fist collided with his nose, sending him stumbling backwards into the crowd. Several hands caught him and held the dazed boy up.
"Alright break it up!" A voice yelled with authority. The music had ceased and the wild lights stopped flashing. Carlos and James were dragged unceremoniously to a back door and dropped to the gravel roughly. The metal door clanged shut and locked behind them.
"James! James, are you ok?" Carlos exclaimed, crawling to his friend, who lay motionlessly on the gravel parking lot. James groaned and rubbed his jaw, confused.
"What happened?" The drunken boy asked. Was he… Outside? He didn't remember ever going outside. And why did his jaw hurt so much?
"You tell me!" Carlos yelled, sitting Indian style on the uncomfortable, tiny rocks and wondering how in the world James had gotten into such a violent fight. He whimpered loudly when he saw the rocks were splattered with blood. A few more drops dripped off of his face and splattered to the ground.
"James I'm bleeding!" Carlos said, pressing his palm to his heavily bleeding nose. Tears automatically escaped from his eyes. He hated blood.
The brunette didn't seem to process this information. He just continued to lie there, mumbling incoherently about something instead of taking care of the younger boy, which he normally would have done. Carlos looked at him, hurt.
"James don't you care?" The Latino asked with a tiny sob, holding his shirt to his nose to stop the bleeding. When he still didn't get an answer, Carlos got to his feet and pounded on the metal door, even though he knew it was useless. He could hear the loud music had resumed and the party had gone on like nothing ever happened, but he needed to get James help, just in case he hit his head. He was acting very out of it.
Carlos scanned the deserted parking lot with his eyes. They were behind the huge building and not one car or person was around. The Latino's heart raced. They were both hurt and alone, and it was dark save for a couple of dim street lights.
"Come on Jamie, we gotta get to the car," Carlos said, bending down to help James up.
"No, I can't," James slurred, wavering as he struggled to get off the ground. He fell right back down before he was halfway up. Carlos was extremely concerned now. He got on his knees and placed James' chin in his hands, peering into his dark, unfocused eyes. His pupils were dilated and his hazel irises were glassy. However, Carlos' fears that James had been hit in the head were changed when the older boy's over-powering breath washed over him. It smelt strongly of alcohol. Carlos let go of his face and fell back onto his butt in surprise.
"James you're drunk!" Carlos accused, horrified.
"No I'm not," James said, and Carlos could barely understand his slurred words.
"Dude how could you?" Carlos groaned, putting his face into his hands. He felt scared and helpless and betrayed. What was he supposed to do now?
"Carlitos, you're bleeding," James said, finally noticing that his best friend was injured when he saw blood seeping between Carlos' tan fingers. James reached for his wrists, but Carlos pulled them away and glared at James. He didn't even care that he was bleeding anymore. All he cared about was how James was so drunk he couldn't even stand up.
"Why would you do this to yourself? Why would you do this to me?" Carlos yelled with disgust. He had never known his voice could sound so angry. His entire body was shaking with rage. "You're 17 James! We promised each other when we moved to LA that we would never do anything like this!" More tears poured out of Carlos' eyes, mixing with blood and dripping onto the gravel.
"I'm sorry Carlos," James said tearfully. "I don't know why I did it. I'm so sorry." James tried to crawl into Carlos' lap, but the Latino pushed him out and stood up.
"I don't even know you anymore," Carlos said, allowing his anger to get the best of him. It was either that or break down into crippling sobs. He would rather let anger take over his heartbreak this time.
"I didn't know I would get drunk," James said. He moaned and pressed his hand to his temple. He was impossibly dizzy and his head was starting to hurt. "Don't be mad-"
"Save it James! We're going home!" Carlos hauled James to his feet and started walking ahead of him. James tried to step forward, but his body felt heavy. He couldn't move without being hit by strong waves of nausea and dizziness. The sensation of walking on air was no longer pleasant, but sickening. Fear ran down his spine when he saw his friend walk away from him.
"'Don't leave me," James said in a tiny voice. Carlos turned around, hearing pain in James' voice. "Please. I don't feel so good."
"You should have thought about that before you got wasted," Carlos snapped, not realizing at first what was really happening. James let out a sob and slumped to the ground. He was panting and crying now, and his shaking hands clutched his middle as a tremor wracked his body.
"J-Jamie?" Carlos asked softly, sitting next to his friend. Something was wrong. His cheeks were a deep red and his eyes blinked furiously, trying to focus on the world spinning violently around him. James was beyond wasted. His young body couldn't handle the toxic amount of alcohol that he consumed.
"I don't feel good," James whimpered. His hands went from his stomach to Carlos' arms, grasping wildly as he silently plead for help.
"I don't know what to do," Carlos sobbed. He intertwined his fingers with James' sweaty ones and squeezed, trying to comfort him. James was crying now, tears and perspiration rolling down his cheeks. His headache was back, only much worse, and his insides were burning and twisting as it revolted the booze and Redbull. Carlos could only watch helplessly as James gagged a few times, his stomach constricting painfully.
"Carlos," James whispered, more crystal drops of pain leaking out of his innocent hazel orbs.
"It's ok, I'm right here," Carlos soothed, rubbing James back. "You can throw up James, you need to throw up. Logan always says it's your body's way of getting rid of harmful substances."
"No," James cried, but he couldn't fight it. He rolled onto his stomach and started vomiting onto the rocks. Carlos cringed as the acidic smell and horrendous sounds of gagging filled the night air.
"I'm sorry," Carlos said. He pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face in his hands, trying to block out the sounds of his terribly ill friend. He was angrier at himself now than he was with James. Logan asked him to watch over James, keep an eye on him in his unstable state, but instead he had stormed off childishly, leaving him all alone. It was his fault James was puking his guts out.
"It hurts," James croaked when his episode was over. His stomach ached and his throat was on fire from the booze coming right back up. He moved away from his mess and into Carlos' lap, leaning heavily against his chest. Carlos didn't push him out this time. He stroked his sweat-drenched bangs out of his eyes and placed a kiss on his forehead.
"Are you ok now? Do you need a hospital?" Carlos asked. James shook his head.
"I'm ok I just… I need to sit here for a while," James said. He was coming down from his vicious high now and needed to rest before he could move. His body was in torment right now and he was afraid to move. "Don't leave me Carlos, please," he said, burying his face in Carlos neck.
Carlos wrapped his arms around James' waist, finally accepting the temporary role of big brother. He looked up at the sky and blinked back tears, trying to hold it together for James. "It's ok, I'm not going to leave you buddy. I'll stay here with you until your better."
James relaxed against Carlos' chest and melted into his warm, compassionate arms. There was something healing about Carlos that just came with his nature. Despite his nausea and headache, he was comforted in Carlos' embrace, content in listening to his soothing, deep voice whisper encouraging words in his ear.
Time passed slowly as James rested, trying to control his breathing and tears. His stomachache faded into a faint queasy feeling, and his headache wasn't quite so intense, but still noticeably there.
"I'm ok now," James said in a raspy voice when he realized the world was finally steady. He was merely woozy as Carlos helped him stand. The Latino wrapped an arm around his waist and assisted him to the car.
"Do you hate me?" James asked as they drove to the apartment.
"I could never hate you James," Carlos said. "I love you. You know that."
James nodded and wiped away a stray tear. "I love you too, 'Litos."
"If you did, you'd never drink again," Carlos said. "Promise me?"
"Oh I promise. I am never going through that again," James said, rubbing his temple.
"Ok, I trust you," Carlos said. "It was a mistake, right?"
"Right," James agreed. "It will never happen again. I learned my lesson."
The exhausted duo arrived home and quietly crept into the apartment. Kendall and Logan thankfully were sleeping, and Carlos led James to his bed and tucked him in, then brought him water and aspirin. James took it gratefully and settled into his warm pillow.
"Good night James," Carlos said, patting his still over-heated cheek. "Get me if you need anything."
James nodded and watched Carlos get under his covers. His eyelids drooped heavily and he knew he could not fight off the darkness that begged to come. Memories of the night swam blurrily in his mind and he moaned. Now that he was halfway to sober, he was realizing just how horrible the mistake he made was. He was appalled at his decision to ever let that waiter tempt him into drinking. He had no idea that those small drinks would get him so drunk, but he should never accepted them regardless.
"Carlos, I'm sorry," James mumbled in a barely coherent voice before he slipped off into the sleep that beckoned him.
A/N How many of you think that James is going to keep this promise?
Reviews light up my life!