"Oh, I think this will really cheer you up!" Carlos said in his most cheerful voice and poured a bucket of water on the bed.
"Cut! Good job. Next time, we'll meet on Friday."
When Carlos heard the sound of the movie clapper, his expression instantly changed from foolishly naive to serious. He quickly thanked his coworkers and headed for the dressing room, but stopped after he felt a slight nudge on the back.
"Bro, we decided to play pool tonight at the new pool hall a block away. Cassandra and Paul have already agreed. What do you say?" The man gave Carlos another pat when he turned around at the sound. "Beer's on me."
"Sorry, can't make it tonight. Business." Carlos' smile strained and he said goodbye to his colleague before he could interrogate him. As he changed, he involuntarily gritted his teeth. Bro. None of these actors could stand even close to the people Carlos truly considered his brothers. That was probably why his heart clenched painfully every time he thought about how far apart they had become in the last three months.
Kendall had barely seen Carlos since he'd gotten together with Jo and moved into their shared rental apartment. He had apparently had to take on more work in hockey after a long absence due to the tour, too, so Carlos took little offense. However, regarding the events surrounding James, he couldn't find an explanation.
James had fulfilled a dream and was pursuing a solo career under Hawk Records, which Carlos hadn't even learned from him but from an advertisement. When he first saw the poster with the rising star and that ridiculous alias 'Jamez,' he was truly furious. How could James leave Minnesota and take a job with Big Time Rush's main competitor without even telling anyone? Carlos always cooled down quickly, so he didn't hold grudges. If James decided it was better for him, let him. Carlos wasn't even going to argue anymore, he just wanted to talk, but trying to get through to James was getting him nowhere. He ignored Carlos on social media, didn't answer his phone, and didn't show up at the Palm Woods, where Carlos would have gotten any insight from their mutual acquaintances.
He desperately didn't understand what his guilt was, but today he was determined to find out. With what was left of the band's fame and good publicity, the pop artist had quickly found his listeners and, even if he couldn't replicate the level of early Big Time Rush, Hawke found the idea of a tour of America profitable. In an hour at the Minneapolis Armory there would be a gig where Carlos just had to get through to James!
Carlos thought long and hard about how to get to the artist through the adamant security guards. Bribing one of them was too sneaky and almost impossible. Make a huge poster and wear brightly colored clothes to stand out from the crowd? But even if James were to spot Carlos, the chance of him talking to him after the show didn't get any better. What's more, the former Big Time Rush member's appearance at the concert could attract press and make his friend look bad.
There was only one, more dubious option left. Before leaving, Carlos began to write a message, not giving up hope even after all this time:
"Hey James. You probably deleted my number a long time ago, so I'll clarify. It's Carlos. I know I'm boring you with texts and calls, but I really hope you've just been busy and haven't had time to answer. Listen, friend, if this is about Hawk Records, I'm not mad at all. Do you want me to not even say a word about your career? It's just that I've missed you a lot and now that you're coming to Minnesota for a little while, we can finally talk. Please, James, if I'm not a blank slate for you, let's meet up after the concert at Dancing Ganesha tonight. I'll wait till the last minute, please don't leave me."
After sending it, Carlos closed his eyes briefly and, swallowing heavily, headed to the gig.
Sometimes time flies so fast that you don't have time to look at your watch. But today was different. At the concert, even though Carlos was standing practically in front of the stage, he was exhausted with anticipation and wanted to be even closer to James. Had he read the message? Had he noticed Carlos? Perhaps it was just paranoia, but he was sure James was deliberately avoiding the front rows with his gaze. All he could do was guess and keep counting the minutes until the end of the show, which, despite the artist's amazing voice, was frankly boring to the hyperactive Carlos.
In the restaurant, the tension only grew more. An hour or so passed, but the expected man never came. Carlos guessed that his affection was becoming unhealthy, that his fear had long ago turned into anxiety. He literally couldn't stand being alone: just like before Camille called with the fateful news, panic took over his mind. Several times, when his father left the house for night duty, the emptiness seemed to be suffocated by an invisible force. Carlos felt as if something was bound to happen to him, which made him even more afraid, which only made him wish more strongly that one of his friends were there to give him a sense of security. It was a vicious circle. But Carlos couldn't help it: he'd already made the fatal mistake of asking Logan to go to school in another city. Now that he only had Kendall and James left, there was no way he was leaving them behind! Realizing that James wasn't going to show up, he felt the fear boiling over again.
The annoying waiter was keeping him busy, so he had to place his order. Carlos took the drink list and studied the menu. He chose the first item he saw, and without much desire, voiced it, but immediately he heard a slight creak. Who else could have entered the pre-booked room if the waiter was already here? Could it be…?
"James!" Carlos exclaimed happily, already running up to his long-awaited guest. As he clung tightly to James, the first thing he smelled was Cuda. Oh, James, the same James: not without his quirks, but somehow the most valuable person to Carlos.
But when Carlos pulled away, he realized he didn't feel James hug him in return. Holding his gaze fully, he realized that what stood before him was... not quite the same James. The expression on his face gave off a seriousness that had never been characteristic of the boy. And it wasn't the new, shorter length of hair that emphasized the severity of his outer features. The look in his usually rich hazel eyes seemed faded and even frightening, and his lips were tightly closed into a thin line, as if James wasn't going to say a word. Maybe he was just offended? But why?
"James, I'm so glad you came! Are you okay?"
"And what did you want to tell me?" he asked, not at all friendly, ignoring Carlos's question.
Bewildered, Carlos didn't immediately find something to answer and looked down guiltily. "But, friend, it's been so long since we've seen each other. I just missed you... Let's talk! If you want, I'll start. I'm a recent graduate of acting school, and in one of my classes we had a famous movie director and some other pros from the production crew come in. They interviewed us on how and what to do, but that's beside the point. One editor recognized me as a former member of Big Time Rush, so he offered to cast me in a big project. And guess what? I did pretty well! Now I have a minor but awesome role in a great sitcom..."
Carlos glanced at James. Not that he'd ever been particularly attentive to his interlocutors, but James certainly wasn't even listening right now. He was lazily spinning the napkin holder, which made Carlos feel pathetic at first, but, as if at the snap of his fingers, the pity was replaced by a more recent wave of resentment.
"I don't understand what's going on! For three months you ignored me and made me suffer while you yourself were getting high on your new starry surroundings. Now you came to the meeting, gave me some hope of clarifying the situation, and showed me how much you don't care. Great! So, why are you here, just to mess with me?"
James looked up slowly. "No. You're not going to leave me alone, so ask questions now. And let's make a deal, we're saying goodbye. Don't text me again."
Carlos' heart sank. Where was the, albeit a bit cocky, but sweet, open, and caring James? As much as James loved fame and luxury, he'd always valued his friendship with the guys above anything else. Now his priorities had shifted enough to leave behind the longstanding and strongest friendship of their lives. Carlos couldn't believe that James's behavior was just a lust for glory. There was something else, something more serious, but Carlos didn't understand what it was. "What did I ever do to offend you?"
"Nothing. Circumstances change, and you need to accept that."
"Accept it," Carlos muttered sullenly. "I can't accept it!" Then he leaned on the table and looked up at the ceiling. "They say friendship is like brick walls... At any moment you can lean on your friends and know that everything's going to be okay. And sometimes just knowing that the support is there is enough to feel safe. After what happened with Logan, we promised each other we'd stick together. What is it with you, James? How could you change our principles?"
"Change is a normal reaction to life's events," James said apathetically and looked away from the screen of his smartphone, taking his time to swipe notifications. "You should grow up, too, and stop repeating nonsense. The last time I heard that was in a cheap melodrama."
"Guess what?!" Carlos jumped up and clenched his fists with unforeseen aggression. "Yeah, maybe I'm naive. Probably the most naive of the bunch, but I can't just leave you. I never would have gotten attached if I'd known what you'd become."
"If you're that attached to people, maybe you're nothing yourself. Forget about me, think about your own needs. "
A shiver ran through Carlos's body as if from a stun gun. The indefinitely long pause was interrupted again by James: "Are we done? In that case, I'm going."
"No!" Carlos exclaimed, forcing James to stop. "I don't know what happened to you, but... If it has to do with Kendall, he's waiting not far from here. I'm not aware of the situation, but Kendall really admits he's at fault. He really wanted to talk to you."
"We have nothing to talk about." James stood up again and quickened his step.
"Please, you're making it worse for you and him. Give him at least one chance. He needs to apologize. I promise, then we'll back off."
"I don't care about his apology. I'll stay so you don't touch me again, but if he's hoping for something, there's no point."
Carlos sighed heavily and nodded faintly. When he reached the door, he added awkwardly: "One more thing. Write if you change your mind. No matter what, I'll miss you."
James stared at the door expectantly. He didn't know if it had been curiosity or, as he'd told Carlos, a desire to be left alone once and for all. He did have an inner hatred for anything that connected him to his dark past, but it had long since become a background emotion that he paid no attention to. He didn't feel like screaming, crying, punching walls, or doing anything like that... He didn't really want to do anything.
"Can I?"
"If I say you can't, it doesn't change anything," James said, wishing he could roll his eyes at the empty affectation.
"James," Kendall began nervously, sitting down. "That act was a misunderstanding, and I'm an idiot. Just hear me out, please, and don't ignore me like you've done dozens of times before, okay?"
James glanced sneakily at him. Now that Kendall was so close to him, he could clearly see a few shallow wrinkles on his forehead that appeared to be recent.
"I had to admit to you that I've been conflicted since the beginning of our relationship. You see, I've never met a partner like you in my life, but I was raised differently. I was taught that you had to live by the rules, that feelings between two men were stupid. Just stupid!"
Kendall gave James a quick glance, and without reading the questions, continued: "I was dealing with it, at least I thought so. Yeah, not every attempt was successful, and I still haven't admitted to Carlos that there was something between us. But I have to tell you everything first, there are too many unspoken secrets piling up..."
Taking a sip of Carlos's untouched mojito, which he'd ordered earlier, he continued. Kendall fidgeted uneasily, but his voice seemed unshakably confident, as if he'd been practicing his phrases for years and was just trying to say them in one breath.
"Things had gone downhill since the tour started. I may have seemed calm on the outside, but, Logan... I couldn't," Kendall closed his eyes for a second and swallowed hard. "I couldn't and I can't accept it. It sounds stupid, but I could see him. And you and Carlos too, just the old us, untouched by the pressure of everything that happened. When I met Jo, she was a beacon from that bright time, and I was confused. Maybe, somewhere deep down, I even thought that by bringing Jo back, I could bring back Logan and the carefree us."
James stared ahead as if in a daze. There was a naive glimmer of hope in Kendall's gaze, or maybe it was just the sudden tears that gave off an emerald glow.
"The most ridiculous excuse you could come up with. Funny," James finally responded, but there was nothing on his face that could be mistaken for fun.
"Do you really think I'm lying?" Kendall asked, more desperately than aggressively. "If I wanted to fantasize, I wouldn't have tried to get through to you all these damn months! I've come to my senses, James, and I'm ready to move on. Even if I have to go back to LA again for you and your music career. You're the only thing that keeps my heart beating. No one else can help."
"What makes you think I want that?" James said affirmatively, apparently not wanting to hear the answer. When he needed help like oxygen, hardly anyone reached out to him. But he should be helping, and the same person who had sent him to the bottom.
The crack of an unfinished glass, which Kendall had aggressively thrown off the table, rang through the room. "You don't have to believe me, but at least don't pretend to be an arrogant scumbag! Carlos came out of that conversation almost hysterical, and he had nothing to do with it!"
"You want to say that you're not a scumbag?" James said a little more animatedly. "I don't care about Jo, but right now she's waiting for you at home, and you're telling me that you love me. Carlos is naive, but he does stupid things unintentionally. And you know exactly what you're doing. You're an asshole."
"Look," Kendall began, his head down. "I'm sorry to Jo and to you, but I really didn't know what to do in that situation. Do you no longer feel anything for me because of one mistake? After everything we've been through?"
"I thought I wouldn't feel anything, but I still do. Disgust. You're disgusting."
James didn't remember how or when Kendall left the room. He seemed desperate to say some parting phrases, but they were frantic nonsense that no longer interested James.
He took his time leaving the restaurant, as if processing everything he'd heard. For a moment, a moment echoed in his mind as Kendall recalled the past with rapt attention. Paradoxical. Even though James hated everything about Big Time Rush, right now he felt a slight prick of longing. Slight, but deep enough to realize: if he ever wanted to go back, he couldn't. Trust in humans was lost forever, and it was unlikely that a single person would be able to restore it.
Occasional smiles to fans, habitual flirting that never ended in anything more than intimacy, became an integral part of life. James didn't even think about the rightness of it. The difference from his past adventures before falling in love with Kendall was that James didn't feel the slightest bit of sympathy for his so-called partners. Meeting basic physiological and social needs, nothing more.
Sip after sip burned his aching throat, which James really didn't feel, nor did he feel the multifaceted flavor of Son of a Peat with its smoke notes. The whiskey seemed to be just a hot mixture that quickly stupefied the mind.
With each dip, his chest shook more and more with unreleased emotion, but James only stared silently at the geometric tile pattern that was already beginning to float into view. A few more sips, or shots, and the young man called a cab, trying his best to hit the touch buttons. As the car pulled up, he made another call:
"Hello, R-R-Rebecca?"
"James, amazing concert! Almost all the tickets are sold out! Hawk and I are very pleased."
"Never mind that, listen up-"
"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Rebecca half-questioned on the other end of the line. "Did you get your teeth knocked out in Minnesota and you're under anesthesia or something?"
"Sort of. It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter at all. I demand that all tours in Minneapolis be canceled. Forever! You hear that, right?"
"Clearly. Talk sober, boy."
James continued to insist, but she had already hung up. After the beeps were heard, he hissed softly: "B-bitch." Again the loud, obnoxious ringtone. Who needs anything else? Ah, yes. The cab number popped up on the screen.
A month later, life continued to go on as usual. Kendall's leadership skills helped him become the team's forward, James successfully continued recording songs for the new album, and Carlos finished filming the first episodes of the series that was about to be released on Netflix.
Just as the guys dreamed, they were able to find their purpose in life. Fans of Big Time Rush were genuinely happy for their idols and from time to time continued to write them words of recognition. People around them either remained indifferent or envious, and with undisguised judgment said that they were just lucky, without the band they would not have made it in the people.
It was commonplace to judge the work as a symbol of success, the more the guys really seemed happy. But no one knew what was behind the career achievements. Behind the smiles, no one noticed the lifeless sighs, the hard stares, and the pain that wasn't enough to scream and draw attention to itself, but sat inside and brought a lot of suffering.
Carlos was laughing hard on the set, playing the character diligently. Sometimes he even joked in the company of actors, all appearance conveying ease and directness. No one guessed that once a week he was just as emotional and loud, barely holding on his knees, sobbing over Logan's grave. But Carlos wasn't just grieving for the young man who had so cruelly abandoned him. He was grieving for the dead bond with the people still closest to him, who had left him to the cruel world, all alone.
James eventually convinced Rebecca to cancel her trips to Minneapolis, as thankfully the city was not the most lucrative place to perform. However, James still resorted to hard liquor many times, having adapted to both the larger dose and the morning torture. But now he did not make the same mistakes: he allowed himself to give himself to alcohol only at home and on weekends. The first rule was related to his unwillingness to get involved in conflicts with the press, and not a special impulse to crawl to a cab. The second rule was to show up at Hawk's studio sober. Although, perhaps, in the latter case, James was not so concerned about the consequences. For years he had dreamed of becoming a solo artist, but now he almost didn't care, and such a long-awaited opportunity had become a chore.
Kendall continued to live with Jo. When he found out about her pregnancy, he even managed to act excited. The secretly and not quite legally purchased antidepressants he had so desperately needed after his conversation with James were really not bad, if even a child from a woman he didn't love he could take with the proper calm. Realizing how many more irreversibly painful moments lay ahead, he ordered a few extra packs.
Everyone around him seemed happy: Jo in love, the mother satisfied with the rightness of the situation, and even the unborn baby, who was kicking and falling asleep to his father's stories. The only unhappy one in this story was Kendall. But he did not mind, because if nothing else could bring joy to his life, then at least the people he was close to were be happy. So he wanted to do the world some good, and probably atone for a transgression he'd never forgiven himself for.
Although the three former members of Big Time Rush were no longer connected neither by band nor friendship, and their paths went in completely different directions, each of them was united by the same inner state. Destruction.
Well... This is my first maxi and it's not without its rough edges, but I really tried and put some of my worldview into the fanfic. Thanks for reading, rushers are the best!
P.S. And again I send rays of light and love to my beta reader BigTimeRush-BTR, without her you would have to suffer my imperfect English.