"Hey, here I am!" The phrase instantly awoke Logan.
"My mom told me I should shut myself off from jerks like you," he said. He was clearly not happy to be awakened.
"Come on, you can take a nap later. We've got a lot of work to do, so let's go!" Carlos exclaimed cheerfully and put on his trademark helmet. "I'll make you some coffee, but you get your cleaning supplies ready."
"Just a minute," Logan said and turned away from the window, where the bright, natural light was coming in.
Opening his eyes, he felt quite awake and reached for his smartphone. For Logan, reading the news feed in the morning was a ritual, even if it hadn't been a happy one in recent days. But immediately after unlocking it, a slight shiver ran through his body. What, twelve hours already? How long had he been asleep?
He jumped out of bed and went to find Carlos.
"Why didn't you wake me up?"
"I woke you up this morning to make amends," Carlos said with a smile and some strain in his voice, and then he took out a bag of garbage.
"I know there's something you're not telling me. Admit it."
Finally, Carlos looked away and set the bag down.
"When I came in here, it wasn't just the mess that surprised me. I've slept around you before, but I've never seen you this worried," he admitted and shrugged. "You were always tossing and turning and saying things. I remember 'Kami' and 'Iritis'... What does that mean, by the way?"
"Oh, it's nothing. Iritis is a medical term," Logan dismissed it, deliberately not saying anything about Kami. "You know, I really can't sleep lately. I've been having nightmares. I'm sorry I had to put things on hold."
"It's okay. I've already taken out most of the trash, so you have to wet clean. Oh, and I broke your cup. I'm sorry," Carlos blurted out quickly, his eyes squeezed shut, apparently expecting a stream of moralizing.
"Just forget it," Logan dismissed him. He usually scolded the clumsy Carlos for any slip-up, but right now he was too grateful for the help to be angry.
As the boys continued, Logan couldn't help but marvel at Carlos's optimism. Watching his actions was hilarious and brought an involuntary smile to his face. More specifically, watching Carlos continue to diligently scrub the windows, even as he noticed that the streaks were only getting bigger. The way he sneezed cutely from the disinfectant. The way he gesticulated cheerfully despite his fatigue.
No matter what was going on, Carlos remained as energetic and cheerful as ever. Of course, it occurred to Logan that the behavior might just be good acting, but he immediately dismissed the assumption at the mere sight of his friend.
What did he have to lose? Carlos had no girlfriend, no career, no prospects. Although it is unknown what is better: to live each day as the last, or to suffer from unfulfilled dreams. Logan was sure he shouldn't be so carefree. Logan had already been shown it and learned how painful it was to return to a life where you were a nobody.
There was a loud knock on the door, which made James' headache seem even more piercing. He didn't want any scandal or bickering right now, so he silently went to open the door. Kendall was a persistent guy, and there was no way to get rid of him.
"Hello," James said in a low voice, then sat down on the couch and patted it defiantly, calling Kendall to him.
"Hi," Kendall said awkwardly. "To be honest, you don't look so good. How are you now?"
"Tolerable," James replied distractedly, trying not to get into details. Though he guessed that the distinctive bruises on his pale face and the tired look on his face gave him away.
"Yeah, I noticed... Look, I realize we agreed not to talk, but that was a mistake. We started together and we'll finish together." Kendall's voice had regained its confidence and was more sonorous. "And we'll end up with careers, paparazzi, tedious tours around the world, and Gustavo yelling at us. Aren't we sick of that?"
Kendall paused for a moment after the question, but James looked at him, and by the feel of it, even through him, silently. He didn't hide the fact that he listened for show, because the speeches seemed like tinsel.
"We may have broken up as a band, but we didn't break up as a group of friends," Kendall said. "Remember when the four of us used to play hockey and then come over to my house to play video games? And how we'd give Carlos a ride in the cart or talk your mom into letting us all stay together for a sleepover at Hortence's... Well, Logan's. We were so happy then!"
"Why are you telling me this now?" James said weakly and took a sip of water, trying to suppress the sudden onset of nausea. "Childhood, like Big Time Rush, is not going to come back. If you want me to suffer for that, go ahead."
"No, you misunderstand me," Kendall continued and poured some water into his cup as well, apparently not hoping for hospitality. "I'm just saying that we've always been able to get through things together. If you're having trouble getting over the breakup of the band, you can come to us and we'll work something out."
"I didn't ask for you or Katie," James said more sharply and turned toward the door. He tried to keep his composure. He really did.
"You know, if you want to be alone, be alone, but stop drinking! You should do something, like go to the gym."
"Give me a break. Who are you to tell me what to do?!" James shouted, and then he felt a piercing crack in his head and touched it. "Look, if you don't want me to hate you, just leave."
"You're my friend, and I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure you're okay," Kendall cut him off and crossed his arms defiantly.
"Are you short of hockey players or something? I'm not the only hockey player in Minnesota. You don't have to look very far."
"You're so stupid," Kendall said affectionately.
"Yeah, I'm stupid, too. Thanks for reminding me."
Kendall scratched the back of his head and looked down. "Sorry, that's not what I meant. 'Insecure' is the right word. You know, you've always tried to appear narcissistic on the outside, but as soon as someone around you was better or you thought you weren't perfect, you gave up."
"Where are you going with this?" James interjected, interested but indignant.
"The point is that you're not just a pretty wrapper for us. Carlos, Logan, and I know you as a sensitive, responsive, motivated, kindly naïve, and then a good-looking guy," Kendall continued, hugging his friend tightly. "We really appreciate you, James, and we held on to your dream as best as we could, from Gustavo's audition to the plan to change your mom's mind. I'm sorry we couldn't do anything, but there are so many other avenues. Modeling, solo career, whatever you want!"
"I love you, Kendall," James said faintly, and he collapsed helplessly into the arms around him.
"I love you, too, bud," Kendall said, a little embarrassed, and released James from his embrace.
He didn't seem to understand.
"Why don't you go to the gym tomorrow and distract yourself. Maybe find a new girl?
James was sure he didn't get it.
"Well... okay," James said and leaned back against the back of the couch, touching his head again. It felt like it was about to explode. Still, he didn't want to show how lousy he felt in every sense of the word and tried to force a calm expression onto his face. "You should leave, really."
"I can't leave you right now. You look broken."
"If you want, come see me sometime later, after the gym. Right now I just want to get some sleep. Please," James said weakly, though convincingly.
"Okay, I'll definitely come see you later," Kendall agreed. "Call me if you need anything," he added awkwardly on his way out.
There was no verbal response, or even a nod of affirmation. James didn't pay attention to the words coming from his best friend. They didn't matter. What was he thinking, confessing his love under these conditions?
He wanted to get his mind off the subject of feelings. At first James just stared at the ceiling, then, starting to get bored, scrutinized the room. Details that his eyes had not been drawn to before seemed extremely important at this moment. Among them was the hand-painted painting on the vase and the stone-encrusted frame. Inside the latter was a portrait of Brooke Diamond. Looking at it always made James feel a little guilty. Today that feeling was heightened, so he tried to focus on something else.
The only thing that was interfering with the class was his deteriorating health. His head didn't seem to hurt as much as it had half an hour ago, but the nausea was getting worse. After a couple of minutes, James made his way to the restroom and relieved himself, then went to the sink to gargle his throat.
And why does there have to be a mirror in here? he wondered indignantly. James usually liked to look at his reflection, but he hadn't found it attractive in recent days. On the other side was a haggard man with bruises and hair that, as Kendall would sarcastically put it, "even the FBI couldn't help."
The horrible reflection, the breakup of the band, the declaration of love, it all came together in an unsolvable puzzle. No, it was decided, this couldn't go on. He needed to go to the gym and take his mind off these problems.