No Idea

Summary - After getting called out for his past actions, James vows to change his ways and prove to Mickey that he can be her friend. (James x OC)

"And she has no idea, no idea, that I'm even here, I'm even here. She has no idea, no idea, I'm standing—no, wait—I'm lying here, I'm lying heeerrreee…"

The orange vinyl stuck to James' face and probably wasn't doing good things to his skin. He was too heartbroken to care. It was supposed to work this time. He had it all planned! New haircut—check.

New clothes to go with new haircut—check!

The perfect date idea—check!

The perfect opening to ask Mickey on a date—check!

It all lined up! It was all perfect!

How did it go wrong?

He ran his tongue along his teeth, even though he knew they were free of any unsightly bit of spinach or poppyseed, still smooth to the touch. He would never run the risk of bad breath. C'mon, a world-famous singer with bad breath? No one would live that down. And he was James Diamond, everything was on point with him. But she still said no! How was that possible?

"Are you okay, sweetie?"

James tilted his head, turning his view from shiny orange plastic to Mrs. Knight approaching with a laundry basket on her hip. "No," he uttered. How could he be okay when the girl of his dreams shot him down? Again.

"What happened?" She sat and set the laundry basket on the table, pulling out one of Kendall's shirts. Or was it Carlos'? They both tended to prefer off the rack sacks that hung off them. Logan, at least, leaned towards the collar shirts that fit him a little better. James had tailored clothes all the way.

Huffing a breath, James pushed himself upwards. The couch peeled away from his cheek. He rubbed the back of his hand against the line that formed and tucked himself into the corner of the couch. Crossing his arms, he flicked his head, moving his hair out his face. "I did what I always do. I asked Mickey out and she said no."

"Is that all?"

He balked. Is that all? As if he'd said he dropped a toaster waffle on the ground or his that his fish sticks were soggy. How come no one ever understood the gravity of his life? Why did they always laugh at it? Okay, so, maybe it wasn't a good idea to call the FBI over because he ran out of hairspray but it was a hair emergency! It was important! This is important!

"I don't think you understand." James cleared his throat and slowed his speech, "She. Said. No."

"I heard you." Mrs. Knight snapped another shirt in the air and, with a few quick folds, added it to the quick growing pile on the table. He almost asked her to separate his clothes from his buds', but held his tongue. He wasn't sure she'd take that too well. She got weird about things like that sometimes. "She's said no to you before." Rude. Hurtful. But…true. "What was different about this time?"

Wincing, he sucked air in between his teeth as the deep, throbbing ache came back; souring his stomach with that ugly feeling of shame he tried to ignore. He couldn't exactly do that when Mickey's face—twisted; anguished; red, wet eyes and all—came slamming back into his brain. He'd never seen her like that before.

He didn't know which was worse: seeing her so upset or being the reason she was so upset.

He twisted his fingers, spotting a hangnail. That had to go. "Well…it wasn't exactly a no…" It wasn't as short as a no. And it wasn't as quiet as her usual no. It was louder. Much louder. And faster and more pointed than she'd ever turned him down before. And longer, definitely longer.

"What was it, exactly?"

Maybe it was the way Mama Knight looked at him, maybe it was the soft tone to her voice, maybe it was that she actually asked instead of brushing him aside. Either way, the cork was popped. There was no coming back now. "That's what's so weird." He hopped off the couch, pacing, words spilling out of him. "I've asked her out a hundred and twenty-seven times"—yes, he'd been keeping track—"and she'd always say 'I don't think so' or 'I' not sure that's a good idea' or 'I'm busy' or 'I have to feed my ferret'—she actually does have a ferret." Mama Knight made a silent 'oh' and nodded. It was a cute ferret. His name was Gizmo, she called him Pipsqueak or Pip for short. She absolutely loved him. He wished he knew how that felt. "Anyway! We're hanging out in Studio A, just messing around after practice. The girls are packing up to head home and I figure, now that she's alone, it's the best time to ask her to the Griffith Observatory. So I do.

"And she says she's not sure. So I try and sweeten the deal by reminding her that I'd pay for everything. And she says 'I don't know'. And I said what could be better than spending time with me? And she…well…" Sighing, James rubbed the back of his neck. The sour pitching of shame hit him again and, God, it was worse the second time around after everything happened. "She…kinda…yelled at me."

"…Mickey yelled at you?"

"Yeah, I know. Surprising right?"

Mickey wasn't just called 'Mouse' by her sisters because of the obvious name association but because she was just that quiet. In fact, the day they met by the Palm Woods pool, he couldn't get a word out of her. And he pulled out all the stops.

The first time he'd heard her was her laugh at dinner that night. Kelly had invited them, Mama Knight, Katie, and Gustavo over for dinner so they could all get to know one another. They'd never met quadruplets before—really cute ones at that—so the questions were flying. She didn't outwardly react, responding mostly with shrugs, faces, or waves of her hand. But then Carlos said something that made her laugh and—

Oh. My. God.

It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard in his life.

She first spoke a couple days later, some sarcastic comment about how they were stupid—which was fair—and none of them realized she'd said it at first until her sisters started cracking up. But the first time she'd said something to him? The first time she'd looked him in the eye, had his attention, and said, "You were meant to be here"?

His entire world stopped. Gustavo yelling at him for having "no talent" and being "the absolute worst" suddenly didn't matter anymore. He was a goner. It was the best he'd ever felt in his life.

Mama Knight hummed and snapped another shirt. James frowned. What was he supposed to do with that? "Well, what did she say?"

Might as well get this over with. "She said for me to stop. To stop asking her out and to leave her alone. And why do I keep doing that to her? That she can't take it anymore. And I was saying I didn't realize she was serious and thought it was a joke or a game, our thing. Cause, you know, girls can be confusing, and I thought it was just how we were. And then she's like 'Why would you think that? We're not friends. You don't know me. You know nothing about me. Leave me alone.' Which, I don't know how I can do that when she plays in our band and she goes to school with us and they hang out here all the time. But now I'm here and I'm sad."

He flopped onto the couch again, letting out a low moan, partially at having to recount something so uncomfortable and partially because it hurt all over again. Was this what embarrassment felt like? Her words echoed in her mind but it was the look on her face that hit him straight in the chest. He high-tailed it out of Rocque Records after that. He and the couch had become one ever since.

"I see."

"What?" He didn't meant to be so loud but…damn! She was being too cryptic for his liking. He needed answers! Popping back off the couch he demanded, "What do you see? 'Cause I'm not seeing anything! And I don't need glasses! I have perfect vision!" He pointed his fingers around his face, just missing poking himself in the eye.

"Well, sweetie, you have been coming on a bit strong."

James crossed his arms. "Explain."

With a few quick curls of her fingers, she paired and matched sock after sock. "Well, it's…possible you've been making her uncomfortable with all the attention you've put on her."

"What? No." James scoffed. "Girls like that sort of thing." She didn't know what she was talking about. How long had it been since Mama Knight had a date? Right. She had no idea what dating was like now. It wasn't the 80s.

"Not all of them," she insisted.

That couldn't be right. It always worked for him. It especially worked for his dad; he'd seen it with his own eyes. He'd seen the videos of his old rock shows, the girls lining up just to catch a glimpse of him before and after a show. The way they held onto his every word at meet and greets or parties. The way they practically melted beneath the attention he gave them. It worked for him. That's how he got his mom (so he says, his mom had a different story.) That's how he got his second wife. It worked. He had the proof.

…Didn't he?

"Why do you think it was different this time?" Mama Knight added.

"I don't know!" He threw his arms in the air. They landed on his denim-clad thighs with a smack. "That's the problem!"

"Just think about it. Based off her verbiage, she sounded distressed. And she said that you weren't friends."

"Yeah, that was the really weird part. Because we are."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Are you?"

"Yeah." He paused. Then, "I think so? I mean, we're always hanging out."

"In a group."

"I mean, there's enough of us so…" Even numbers between his buds and the Mason girls made it easier to play games or do homework or teaming up for playing pranks or bothering Gustavo. It made sense.

"Have you ever spent time with her alone?"

"I've been trying to, but she keeps saying no!"

"She's saying no to going on a date with you." She put a stack of folded denim into the basket. "What I'm asking is have you, James, ever spent time with her as a friend?"

"Well—"

"Have you ever asked her about her day? What she's been reading? What movies she'd seen lately? What she's interested in?"

"Yes! I definitely have!" Ha! Mama Knight couldn't poke holes into that one.

"Have you ever asked her those things without the expectation it'll lead you to a date?"

"Um—"

"Have you ever asked those things just because you wanted to know?"

"I—" That's not where this was supposed to go. She was supposed to have all the answers. Not ask him a bunch of questions.

"Here's the thing; girls can tell when all you want from them is a date or a kiss or something else. And you've made it clear that you've been chasing after that instead of trying to get to know her."

James shook his head before she finished speaking. No no no, she didn't get it! That wasn't what he was doing at all! But something niggled in the back of his mind. But…but what if she was right? Any explanation that came to his mind died on arrival because none of it sounded right. Not anymore. Wouldn't that be the point of a date? To get to know her?

"Let me ask you something." He groaned. He couldn't take anything else. "Why do you like her?"

…Huh?

What kind of question was that? Apparently, he'd asked it aloud because she followed it up with, "What do you like about her?"

His lips blew in a raspberry and answers collided in his mind. Where to start?

"I like how much she loves playing the bass and how she puts her all into it even when it's just practice. You can tell she really cares about it." When Mama Knight didn't laugh or make any sort of reaction he cleared his throat and kept going. "I like how much thought she puts into making sure fans have a great experience at our shows. I like how when she's talking to someone, they're her entire focus, like they're the only one in the room. She's a great listener and very understanding. She has this way of making people who walk away from her feel special, but I don't think she realizes it. I mean, yeah, it takes a bit for her to talk but you when she does you can tell she's taken the time to think about the right thing to say and that it means something."

He stopped and shrugged. He could go on, but the thoughts collided into one another into one unintelligible jumble. What wasn't there to like? Something about her drew him to her since he first saw her but he couldn't put his finger on what it was that lit him up inside. That made him want to be around her all the time. Maybe a word hadn't been invented for it yet.

"Hmm." That humming was starting to get on his nerves.

"What?"

"Most people, when asked that question, they say things about what the girl does for them. Or they focus on their looks or something physical."

"I mean, yeah, she's gorgeous and funny and sweet and she has cool hair and she's gorgeous, but that part's a bonus." She stopped folding, staring at him hard. His skin prickled beneath the scrutiny of her gaze. Did all moms practice how to look at them like that? "Sooo…what do I do?" She had to have some sort of idea to fix this. She always did. Otherwise she'd just be torturing him with facing his actions? That'd just be cruel.

"Okay, I'm going to tell you a secret. It's really big and but it's guaranteed to win anyone over. Are you ready for it?"

"Yeah!"

Mama Knight placed her hands on her lap and leaned forward. "…Treat her like a person."

James blinked, shook his head, and blinked again, his eager smile instantly dropping off his face. "….That's it?"

"That's it." Pushing out a sigh, she reached out and stroked his cheek. He leaned into her touch. And so what if he was pouting a little? That wasn't the answer he expected. "Honey, I don't think you're bothered that she turned you down, I think what really bothers you is that she says you're not friends." He was ready to rebuff but she continued. "But she's right. You haven't been treating her like a friend. Or like a person. It's like a consolation prize to you, and having a real good friend shouldn't be less than."

But it kind of was wasn't it? "Just friends" didn't go on dates or dress up or look at each other in a certain way or kiss or hold hands or whatever else it was that Kendall and Jo used to do and Kendall and Jazz now did. He claimed they talk a lot which, okay, that didn't sound particularly exciting. He could talk to anyone if that's all they did. He was good at that.

But he didn't want to be in the Friend Zone. That was filled with airport pickups and shopping trips and ex-boyfriend talks (not that Mickey had any that he knew of but he couldn't risk that.) His nose scrunched up at the thought. Mama Knight gave him that look again and sighed.

"The Friend Zone doesn't exist," she said, as if she could read his mind. How did all moms have that ability, anyway? "Looks like we're going to have to have that conversation again." He rolled his eyes but fought off a huff. She nearly bit his head off the last time he mentioned the Friend Zone around her. He didn't want a repeat of that, thank you very much. Besides, she was a girl. She wouldn't get it. "If you like Mickey as much as you claim you do, then being her friend or her letting you into her life would be enough. Because if you're only being her friend with the hopes to date her, then you're not friends at all."

He clicked his tongue. He'd never felt like this for someone before. It could have been one of her sisters he met by the pool that day instead of her and he knew, deep down, he wouldn't have the same feelings. Something made it nearly impossible for him to get her out his head, made him want to be around her, made him want to impress her.

But was that enough?

"It is." Well, he could fake it until it was. Or until he liked her less. If that were even possible.

"Great. All you have to do is let her know that."

"How?"

"Words work but, in this case, I think actions would work better. Be there for her. Be her friend. Everything else will work out the way it's supposed to." Slapping her palms onto her knees, she got up with a long sigh. Placing her hands on her hips, her mouth twisted to the side. "You boys are focusing so much on having girlfriends, you're missing out on having great girl friends. You're young, you're in a successful band, you have all the time in the world to get girlfriends. Don't let good friends pass you by on the way."