A/N: Just wanted to write a quick thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter and the one previous to that. And everyone else. Thanks for reading :D
Chapter 10: The Hangover Part III
Scarlett was awoken by a glittering stream of sunshine coming through the blinds of her window. The songbirds were chirping, the clouds were full like cotton balls, and, if you listened closely, you could hear little children laughing.
And it was pissing Scarlett off.
"Somebody shoot those damn birds!" she growled, pressing a pillow over her face.
Her head was hurting like an anvil had been hurled at it and everything sounded as if it were screaming directly at her. Her mouth was drier than the Sahara and every noise was amplified to the max. Hangovers were not fun.
At that very moment, Lucy strolled past the bedroom door. She, unlike Scarlett, was already up and at 'em. She backtracked a couple of steps and peeked in. "Look who's finally awake," she muttered. She jammed her fists into her pockets and walked in, plopping carelessly onto the end of Scarlett's bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit." Scarlett rolled over on her comforter and squinted blindly. She cringed, sticking her tongue out. "The inside of my mouth tastes like I just licked the inside of a grave. And maybe ordered a side of roadkill with it." She paused and glanced up at Lucy. "I'm guessing you know—"
Lucy wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Yeah, that's why I don't drink," Lucy claimed, and promptly added, "And, uh, gross? TMI." She shifted away slightly.
"Sorry. Ugh, what did I do last night?" Scarlett looked down and realized she was still stuck in her party attire. A memory of she and James suddenly flashed before her eyes. She could vaguely remember the two of them in a heated make-out session that had been interrupted by...someone. She couldn't recall who.
A wave of nausea hit Scarlett like a ton of bricks. "Oh, God...," she mumbled, stumbling out of her sheets and stepping on Lucy's toes. She raced out of the room and collapsed in front of the porcelain toilet bowl next door. She coughed uncontrollably, breathing raggedly.
Her stomach emptied into the toilet. The rank stench stung her nose and she retched once more.
"You done?" Lucy asked outside of the door.
Scarlett flushed the toilet. "Yeah, I think so." Lucy pushed open the door and handed Scarlett a glass of water.
Scarlett swallowed greedily until she reached the bottom of the cup. Then she spat into the sink. "Ugh, don't look at me," Scarlett whined, turning away, "I'm disgusting." She clutched the edge of the sink and heaved herself up to face the mirror.
Her horn-rimmed glasses were askew on the bridge of her nose, doing little to mask the dark circles underlining her eyes. Her hair was in an extremely bed-head state and her dress was wrinkled and creased beyond recognition. Her makeup was smudged and messy. She grabbed a comb and a makeup pad to do some damage control.
Scarlett gasped unexpectedly. "Holy crap, what time is it?" she asked fearfully.
Lucy frowned and pulled her phone from her pocket. "Uh, a little after nine. Why?"
"And the day?"
"It's Monday...?"
A squeak escaped from Scarlett's throat. "Holy shit!" she shrieked hysterically, her voiced getting scratchy. "Today is my first day of work! Why didn't you wake me?"
"Scarlett, you're in no state to work today," Lucy lectured in her let's-be-honest voice. "Kendall called Gustavo earlier and I called your aunt." After seeing Scarlett's alarmed look, she added, "Don't worry, we told them that you were having severe cramps. No need to thank me."
"Thank you?!" Scarlett exclaimed. "Why the hell should I thank you? You should have kicked me out of bed and forced me out of the apartment!"
Scarlett brushed past the girl and back into her room. Her blood sloshed inside of her heavy head like soup. She yanked open her dresser drawers violently, tossing clothes around in a panic.
"Look, I'm sorry," Lucy sighed, leaning up against the bedroom door that had been thrown open. "James told me you got really drunk yesterday and it wouldn't be very professional to show up to work hungover." Scarlett groaned loudly and squeezed on the bridge of her nose. She wondered who else knew.
"Great, now everyone knows what a drunken harlot I am," she grumbled sadly.
Lucy shook her head. Everything she was saying was making things worse, so she gave in. "I'll go grab you some breakfast." She trudged away, her combat boots clomping in defeat.
Scarlett slipped out of her dress, left in her underwear. She wearily adjusted the cracked mirror above her white-painted bureau. Scarlett peered closer and noticed a purplish-black bruise gracing her collarbone.
"Are you freaking kidding me?" Scarlett hissed, her fingers grazing the blemish. "No, no, no, no, no..." Scarlett plucked a tube of concealer from the pile of makeup products on her wardrobe and squeezed out a droplet, rubbing aggressively over the mark. Crisis averted, she thought.
Thinking about how far she could have gone with James was making her feel sick all over again. Why she had kissed him in the first place was beyond her. James was a lovely boy, but she wasn't really attracted to him. Whenever they spoke, half the time James was flirting with her. Not that the flirting wasn't nice…
Scarlett threw on some clothes hurriedly and slipped her feet into a pair of scuffed loafers. She then smeared some roll-on deodorant under her arms, spritzed herself with Chanel No. 5, and applied her signature red lipstick to her mouth.
Lucy poked back into the room with a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, knocking hesitantly on the open door. Scarlett glanced up in surprise.
"Wow, did you make that?" Scarlett asked, caught off-guard.
Lucy scoffed obnoxiously. "Please, you know I can't cook," she snorted. "Kendall brought it over." At this, Scarlett smiled widely. "What?" Lucy asked, annoyed.
"He is totally in love with you," Scarlett blurted out. "How do you not see it?"
Lucy felt a sea of red invade her cheeks. "If Kendall loved me, don't you think he would have asked me out by now?"
Scarlett shrugged, snatching the plate of breakfast from Lucy. She nibbled on a couple strips of bacon and felt the nausea crawling back up her throat.
Hangovers were a bitch.
"I think I'll just take some Advil," she decided, pushing the plate away. She and Lucy padded their way to the kitchen. While Lucy put the untouched breakfast back into the oven, Scarlett fetched some pills from the medicine cabinet.
Scarlett swigged the Advil down with a cup of OJ on the kitchen table and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "Okay, I gotta go," Scarlett announced curtly. She grabbed her Aztec-print backpack from the chair it was sitting in and slung it over her shoulder, got out of the kitchen, and skipped down the stairs.
"Wait!" Lucy called from the top of the staircase. "Do you want me to call you a cab?"
Scarlett shook her head. "Don't have time for that." She fished her Lolita shades out of her knapsack and traded them with her prescription frames. "See you later."
BTRBTRBTRBTRBTRBTR
"Yesterday was a complete disaster!" Gustavo Rocque bellowed. His pillowy arms were firmly crossed over the zipper of his velour tracksuit and his beady little eyes were slits. He was mad.
Kendall, Logan, Carlos, and James were seated in front of Gustavo's office desk, being berated by their boss for the third time that week. Kelly stood in the corner with plugs in her ears. She would nod along every so often when Gustavo looked to her for an agreement, not actually entirely sure what she was agreeing to. Being Gustavo's assistant was hard work.
"You didn't even end up performing and Carlos broke his ankle! All of the choreo we've rehearsed will have to be readjusted," Gustavo continued angrily, waving a scary-scarp pencil at the boys. Kendall cringed as sprinkles of Gustavo spit speckled his face.
Carlos raised his hand tentatively. "Uh, actually, I sprained my ankle." Gustavo grunted, the pencil in his hands snapping like a twig.
"Keep talking and I'll break it myself!" Gustavo spat.
Carlos recoiled; he zipped his lips and tossed the imaginary key over his shoulder. Kendall pretended to catch it and stuffed the key into his pocket. Logan took the nonexistent key out and pretended to swallow it, smiling proudly. When he started fake-choking, James fake-whacked him on the back until Logan fake-spat it out. Kelly rolled her eyes from the corner.
Just as Gustavo opened his mouth to resume his verbal abuse of Big Time Rush, Scarlett burst through the doors, looking a bit less composed than usual.
Scarlett's cheeks were flushed red and her forehead was glistening with a sheen of perspiration. A blonde- black curl had fallen over her face, covering one of her eyes. Her ripped pantyhose-clad legs were buckling in exhaustion. Yet she looked incredible.
The button-up blouse she had paired with destroyed cutoffs and a pastel pink blazer was pasted uncomfortably to her sweaty skin. Her scuffed loafers now seemed even more scuffed.
"I'm...sorry...late...sick...sorry," she said between pants. Her fingers were tightly wrapped around the doorknob, the only thing holding her up. She pulled off her shades and pushed her glasses on. "Oh, God..."
Kelly quickly dropped her clipboard, reaching for Scarlett before she collapsed on the carpet. "Someone get her some water, please!"
Carlos hopped out of his seat; he was obviously eager to avoid another earful from his boss. James pulled up a chair and positioned it under Scarlett.
"Geez, did you run here?" Gustavo asked, frowning and looking the girl over.
She nodded enthusiastically. "I hadn't...realized...it was...so far away," she replied, her hand over her rapidly-pounding heart. "Just needed to get here quickly."
"Kendall told me you were having severe cramps," Gustavo sneered, lip curled. Scarlett shot Kendall a look; he shrugged back at her.
"That's what pain meds are for?" she replied uncertainly. Gustavo muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.
Carlos walked back in with a Dixie cup full of cold spring water in hand. He handed it over to Scarlett, who could have devoured it, cup and all.
"Are you okay?" the words left James' and Kendall's mouths at the exact same time.
Scarlett nodded. "Yeah, no, I'm fine," she sighed, fanning herself with her hand.
Logan's eyes narrowed at Scarlett. "Your knee is bleeding." Their eyes met and Scarlett instantly remembered who had interrupted her and James. She also remembered saying something really stupid…
Everyone in the room looked down at her leg. There was a tear in her tights at the knee and it was, in fact, bleeding. During her run, Scarlett must have fallen and gotten scraped up badly.
Scarlett crossed her legs to cover the wound. "I'm fine, really," she claimed breathlessly, looking away from Logan. She faced Gustavo. "And Gustavo, I'm soooo sorry."
Gustavo cracked a smile. "Sorry? What for? I'm just sorry you weren't here earlier so I could congratulate you."
Scarlett cocked her head to the side in confusion. "Wait, what?"
"I saw your impromptu performance at the club last night on SchmoopTube. It didn't completely suck," Gustavo explained, turning his laptop towards her. Under a video titled "Scarlett Browning: Comeback Kid!" there were several comments left by teenagers who had seen Scarlett's performance. The video had already garnered more than 200,000 views and the number was still rising.
"Look at the highest-rated comment," Carlos ordered, crouching close to the laptop. Everyone huddled around the screen.
Carlos read, "'Few young artists can carry off acoustic sessions-she kills it in this video! Her lyrics are extraordinary for someone so young'." He smiled cheerfully, squeezing Scarlett's shoulder.
Scarlett tried to stifle her prideful grin. Inside, she was bouncing from wall to wall. She scrolled down the computer screen and scanned over some other comments. Some were sweet, some were ugly. At least people were watching.
Gustavo pulled his laptop away and snapped it shut, causing the whole room to flinch. "Okay, enough with the fun, it's time for work," he bellowed. He lowered his sunglasses from the top of his nearly-bald head to over his eyes. "Dawgs!" he hollered, "Into the studio. NOW!"
The boys didn't have to be told twice. They scrambled out of their boss's office, tripping over each other. Scarlett and Kelly followed closely behind. Kelly glanced over at the blonde.
"So do you think you're ready to sign with us?" she requested curiously, brown eyes wide.
Scarlett nodded. "Yeah, I think I'd like that." She surprised at the certainty of her own voice.
For the rest of her time at Rocque Records that day, Scarlett observed Big Time Rush rehearsing their songs, dancing their asses off, and writing new music with a begrudging Gustavo. Even with their constant goofing off and immaturity, they somehow managed to get work done under the guidance of their boss. Scarlett was beginning to see why the boys looked up to Gustavo.
Around noon, Kelly sent James and Scarlett to grab some coffee for their break while she left to pick up their Subway order. They found themselves in the break room filling biodegradable foam cups in silence.
"Scarlett-"
"James-"
Both names came out of their mouths at the same time. They laughed uncomfortably; they hadn't actually spoken since the night before. James' fingers combed through his shaggy, sandy hair.
"You go first," Scarlett encouraged gently, grabbing a fistful of skinny brown straws. She knew she was avoiding his eyes, but she couldn't help it. It seemed like James was having the same trouble.
James wasn't used to feeling uneasy or awkward. The Diamond Charm wasn't just something you could simply turn off. It was his default setting.
"I just, um...,"James began clumsily. He seemed very interested in the faded coffee stain on the marble counter. "I wanted to apologize for what happened last night. I don't want you thinking that I'm a sleazy guy or something..."
Scarlett blinked at him in surprise. She hadn't been expecting that at all. And everybody kind of thought James was a man-whore anyway. No offense.
"You have nothing to apologize for," she assured him, touching his muscular arm. "I can't consider it taking advantage if I instigated it. And I told you to kiss me."
"Kissing you wasn't all that bad, to be honest," James admitted, flashing his winning smile.
"Every girl wants to hear that one day," Scarlett giggled sarcastically. James grabbed a drink-holding tray and stuck the filled cups into the spaces. "So, uh, does anybody know about the events of last night? You know, besides me, you, and Logan? And I guess Lucy?"
"No, don't worry," James said calmly. "And Lucy only knows that you were drunk, nothing else. Did your aunt find out?"
Scarlett shook her head. She felt horrible about Nova being in the dark on, well, everything. It was best that she didn't know, though.
"Did Logan say anything to you? About yesterday, I mean?" Scarlett tried her best to remain nonchalant.
James frowned, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. "No…," he answered, cocking his head. "Did something happen with you two?"
"Nope, just a question."
Scarlett could feel James' arm bumping against her own comfortingly. She didn't mind the way they were always tip-toeing around the boundaries of friends and more-than-friends.
As they walked back to the studio, this time in a comfortable silence, Scarlett stared at their feet in comparison. James' were bigger, and he was wearing shiny new Supras. Scarlett's feet were smaller and clad in her old Michael Kors loafers. While the physical difference was blatantly apparent, they stepped in sync, their strides the same.
"You know," Scarlett piped up, "I almost thought that you were gonna, like, confess your true love for me back there."
James stared at Scarlett incredulously before bursting into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. "Where on earth did you get that idea?" His dark eyes were sparkling, like they always did when he was really happy. His dazzling teeth peeked through his parted pink lips.
Scarlett shrugged, and the tray she was carrying shook. "I have no freaking idea," she laughed, shaking her head. "I must have been really drunk last night."
James seemed to have moved past that subject. He was now gazing steadily at Scarlett's curly head. "I really like your haircut. It reminds me of you last summer," he mused, taking a lock of midnight black hair between his fingers. Scarlett didn't mind. "Curls suit you."
Scarlett smiled inwardly; she thought so, too. After a beat, she asked, "Would you tell Logan something for me?"
James frowned. "What?"
"Tell him…," Scarlett began, choosing her words carefully, "Tell him 'I didn't mean it'."
James' frown deepened. "Huh?"
"Just tell him, okay?"
"…Okay."
BTRBTRBTRBTRBTRBTR
The next day, Kelly sent the guys (as well as Scarlett) to the gym. It was part of BTR's weekly routine, a part that they quite enjoyed. Gustavo avoided any form of fitness like the plague, so the boys were free to do as they pleased without constantly being screamed at. Another perk of going to the gym was flirting with the abundance of hot chicks in yoga shorts and cropped tops.
The weekly gym session also happened to be one of the only times Logan and Camille ever got to see each other. Camille had to stay in shape for the show she was filming, so she had her manager book a session at the same time BTR had their own. Unfortunately for all other gym-goers, Logan and Camille couldn't bear to keep their hands off of each other for very long.
Let's just say it's hard to concentrate on exercising when there is a sex-starved couple making out beside you.
Scarlett stepped off of her treadmill after running for a few laps, suddenly disinterested. She glanced around for a companion, yet it appeared that everyone was preoccupied. Kendall was working with BTR's personal trainer (responsible), Kendall and Carlos were flirting up some girls (typical), and Logan and Camille were perfecting their Downward Dogs in a private yoga class that Camille had, no doubt, forced her boyfriend into. Scarlett was left on her own.
The blonde jogged to the vending machine on the opposite wall and dug through her gym bag for a dollar. There was a foil-wrapped package of strawberry-flavored Pop-Tarts calling her name.
"Come on, I know you're in there," Scarlett muttered, scraping the bottom of her drawstring sack for some money.
"Stuck for cash?"
Scarlett's head snapped up when she heard the voice. She was delighted to meet the gaze of an old friend.
"Dak Zevon, how are you?" Scarlett asked enthusiastically. "I've missed you." As always, Dak was looking picture-perfect. Even after an intense workout, his highlighted hair was perfectly in place. He wore the warm, boyish-cute smile that graced almost every issue of PopTiger.
Scarlett had met Dak through Mercedes, back when Scarlett was still a young, wide-eyed dreamer from New York and Dak was still a virtually-unknown, small-town boy destined to be a star. Mercedes had arranged a blind date for the two at one of the swankiest restaurants in LA. It had been one of the most awkward, uncomfortable moments they had ever experienced. In the end, they had ditched the snooty eatery and bonded over cheeseburgers in the parking lot of In-N-Out Burger. It had been the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
"I'd hug you, but I'm all sweaty," Dak apologized, his lips curling around the edges. His pale eyes studied Scarlett carefully.
"I don't mind," Scarlett insisted. Dak wrapped his strong arms around Scarlett's waist, squeezing her tightly. Scarlett breathed in the smell drenched in his t-shirt. Sweat, sweat, and more sweat.
"Okay, I changed my mind," Scarlett gagged, trying not to laugh. "What did you roll around in?"
Scarlett squirmed, but Dak refused to end the embrace. "Breathe in my manly odor!" he chuckled. His iron grip on her tightened. It wasn't until Scarlett stepped on his toes that he let go of her.
Scarlett socked Dak in the arm with all of the force of a bunny rabbit. "You owe me some Pop-Tarts," Scarlett teased, poking Dak in the chest with her finger.
Dak agreed to buy Scarlett a package and she gladly agreed to let him have the second one. Scarlett started picking the crust away. She believed the only good part was the filling.
"You look great, by the way," Dak added, scarfing his Pop-Tart like he hadn't eaten in days. "Incredible, actually."
Scarlett shrugged humbly. "You look better," she argued, patting his solid six-pack approvingly.
Dak grinned good-naturedly. As a result, a group of tweenage girls ogling them a few feet away fainted.
"I only look this way 'cause I'm bulking up for a movie." Dak was playing the son of Superman in an action flick coming out sometime the next summer. "Which reminds me, I have a music video that's being released in a couple of weeks-"
Scarlett cocked a blonde eyebrow. "Okay, now you're just bragging."
"I was actually going to ask if you would costar in it as my love interest," Dak finished, biting back his smile.
A blush crept along Scarlett's collarbone. "Oh...right. I knew that," she lied unconvincingly. "I'm flattered, but-"
"But..."
"But I'm going to be pretty busy for a while. I just started at Rocque Records and the job is going to be pretty demanding." When Dak looked skeptical, Scarlett hastily added, "Plus, you know I can't act. Remember that time on the set of your show?"
Dak had once invited Scarlett to audition for a part on the popular "zom-rom-com" (zombie-romantic-comedy) sitcom, Feeling Alive. Let's just say she had been forcibly thrown out of the television studio before she'd even gotten the chance to reach the end of her script.
Dak didn't reply. He was peering over Scarlett's shoulder to see a cute, petite girl with tiny ringlets framing her heart-shaped face heading their way. She was accompanied by her boyfriend, Logan, who Dak failed to notice. Camille stopped beside Scarlett to set down her Adidas gym bag.
"Hey!" she chirped brightly. Her yoga class had just split for a five-minute break and she had a hankering for a Fiber-One bar. "Got bored of that treadmill, Scarlett?"
Scarlett tried not to cringe. She couldn't understand how a person could be so chipper so early in the morning.
Scarlett pushed her hair behind her ear. "I prefer running someplace to running in place." Scarlett stepped away. "You wanted to get something from the vending machine?"
Camille's eyes widened. "Right!" she replied, forking a bill out of her wallet.
Dak had not stopped gazing at Camille. She was wearing a purple Under Armour sports bra with a pair of Victoria's Secret yoga shorts that left very little to the imagination, especially now that she was bent in front of the snack machine. Logan narrowed his eyes at Dak.
Dak cocked his head to the side, his curiosity piqued. This girl-with her almond-shaped eyes, her lightly-tanned skin, and her glossy, espresso-dark curls-could have been a model. Not to mention that tight, compact body of hers. "Uh, Scarlett, who's your friend?"
"She's my girlfriend," Logan announced, stepping forward. His tiny nostrils were flared furiously and his chest was puffed out ridiculously. His normally-warm brown eyes were pinched and vain. A very un-Logan-like glower was pointed directly at Dak, who hadn't appeared to have heard him.
Scarlett frowned at Logan's steely features. Was he actually feeling threatened? Then again, what boyfriend wouldn't? Dak was suave, handsome, and wealthy—the whole package. And he was sweet to boot.
Camille's head jerked upwards and she blinked at Dak like she hadn't realized he'd been standing there the whole time. "Omigosh, you're Dak Zevon!" she breathed, starstruck.
Dak stuck his hand out for Camille to shake. "And I just recognized who you are. The cute vampire on New Town High." A pink flush faintly appeared on Camille's cheeks.
Logan's eye twitched unnervingly when Dak uttered the word 'cute'. Camille's giggles reverberated off of the gym walls, stabbing into Logan like knives.
"I'm Camille Roberts," she said confidently. Apparently, she had regained her composure.
Scarlett's suspicious eyes flitted from an overly-flirty Dak to a swooning Camille and soon, a wickedly selfish idea had fully hatched in her head. "Hey," she announced, "I bet Camille would love to be in your music video." Logan seemed horrified by this suggestion.
Camille looked bewildered. "I'm shooting a music video for 'Celebrate' this week and I still need a love interest," Dak clarified, much to Logan's dismay. "You game?"
Camille could have jumped out of her skin. "I would be honored," she admitted breathlessly. A pathetic squeak left Logan's throat.
Dak retrieved a business card from his wallet and pressed it into Camille's limp palm.
"Call me," he ordered, grinning. He pressed a quick kiss to Scarlett's cheek and said goodbye. Even when he brushed past Logan, the raven-haired boy just stood there, dumbfounded.
Was it wrong for Scarlett to essentially set up a single, attractive teen idol with a girl who was in a relationship with her ex, Logan, just to spite him? Maybe. Scarlett almost felt bad when she saw Camille squealing ecstatically and gripping her boyfriend's shoulders while he feebly smiled. She almost felt bad about the bitter feelings she still harbored towards Logan.
But then Scarlett saw the fateful summer from the last year flash before her eyes and the feelings of sympathy vanished. Logan had apologized so many times, yet Scarlett had never received an explanation as to why he had done what he had done.
Had he ever loved Scarlett at all? Was Camille simply better than her? Was Scarlett overreacting to the whole thing? There were so many gaps, so many things left unsaid.
It hurt Scarlett's head too much to think about, so she turned away and hopped back onto the treadmill.
A/N: The next chapter will be up soon. Promise.