Fic - For What It's Worth (1/25)
Title: For What It's Worth
Chapter: 1/25
Rating: M
Ship: James/Kendall, Logan/Camille, side Carlos/Dak, Carlos/Lucy, Jett/Mercedes, and Guitar Dude/Jennifers
Summary: AU. Kendall was a dancer when he was a kid, but when his dad unexpectedly passed away, he had to give it up. He becomes a bit of a stoner, and ends up in a little trouble, and his mother decides that she doesn't want her son living that life. So the Knights pick up and move all the way across the country, to L.A. That's where Kendall meets his cousin, Camille, her boyfriend, Logan, the wacky dresser and actor, Carlos, and, among them all, James. James is a ballet dancer with more ambition than Kendall's ever known. Though the two of them do not get along at first, James finally convinces Kendall to use his natural talent, rather than waste it, and they find each other as kindred spirits, and eventually, lovers. This doesn't come without difficulties. With James' ex-partner, Mercedes; the pompous actor-extraordinaire, Jett, and even Kendall's best friend, Joseph (Guitar Dude) getting in the way. But in may not be a person that come between them. It may be the actual thing that brings them together that splits them apart.
Artwork By:thilia
Beta: jblostfan16
Author's Note: This is my . Woo! I had been playing with this idea for awhile when this finally came around and then Cassie convinced me to do it. And it kinda got away from me. Lol! But anyway, I won't ramble. Strap in. It's a long ride.
Chapter One
“Mom, why couldn’t Dad make it to my recital?”
Kendall took a long drag on a blunt, sucking the smoke over his lips and holding it in his chest and throat, burning just right against his esophagus.
“He just had a busy day at the office. He really tried to make it, sweetie. I know he did.”
“It’s okay I guess.”
Kendall waited until just before his head felt like it’d float off his shoulders before he blew out, a puff of smoke expelling from him, wafting toward the ceiling.
“Did I do a good job?”
“Of course you did. You did wonderful.”
“Fuuuuuuck man,” Kendall drawled. “This shit is fantastic.”
Joseph grabbed the blunt from Kendall’s hand and puffed on it. “I told you, dude.”
The light pluckings of the guitar floated around the room, somewhere around where Kendall’s brain ended up being. He took another drag and held it until his chest hurt. Joseph’s song sounded even better.
Kendall’s stomach growled. He sucked more between his lips.
“Dude, go easy on that stuff. You gotta go home at some point tonight.”
Kendall huffed out smoke. “Who cares? Mom’s at work til late. Katie will be asleep.” He paused. “I’m hungry.”
He climbed up, stumbling over Joseph’s piles of clothes and trash and the like. His room was a mess. Which was really convenient because it made it pretty easy to hide things. Kendall dug through the mess on Joe’s bed until he located a bag of Doritos and started cramming them in his mouth. They were stale and chewy but Kendall didn’t give a shit. The guitar-dude’s parents were right downstairs. And Kendall was a little too stoned to risk stairs at the moment.
Joe was a rich man’s son. His family lived on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, even though he was constantly trolling the more boho-chic areas of the city, chilling with the artists and the hippies and the like. His dad works on Wall Street and is all about smart suits and smarter numbers. His mom was the resident trophy wife, and had the attention span of a dead rodent. Joe had come home stoned from cello practice a million times and she’d never even noticed.
That was actually how Kendall met him. Back when they were kids they went to this stuffy fine arts academy. Joe’s mom was determined that he play the cello, but he found guitar around age thirteen and never went back. Not that his mom ever knew that he’d been blowing off cello practice for ages. As long as the teacher got paid, she certainly didn’t mind. Meanwhile, the other students were calling him Guitar Dude.
Kendall didn’t get to stay at the school very long. He went for a few years, performed a few recitals.
Kendall had been accepted into the dance program when he was just five years old.
His dad died when he was ten. Then there wasn’t any money for a crazy-awesome dance school. Not that it really mattered. He didn’t really feel much like dancing after that.
Doesn’t mean it isn’t in his blood. Even stoned out of his mind and completely uncoordinated, he was waggling his hips and twirling around with ease - at least until he toppled over a pile of clothing and into Joe’s daybed.
“Ow.”
Joseph chuckled, never letting up on his guitar playing. “Dude, I told you to lay off that stuff.”
Kendall rubbed the aching spot on his wrist. “Heh, maybe you’re right. Gotta walk home soon.” He looked out the window at the New York horizon. Up above the city streets, it was almost like he could see the whole world, set aglow in the red-orange-amber hues of the sunset. In his haze, it’s almost like he could spread wings and fly away from it all.
“So I think my mom is onto me about skipping cello lessons, dude.”
“Really? What are you gonna do?” She was bound to find out sooner or later.
“I don’t know. Probably go back to lessons.”
“You hate the cello.”
“Yeah, but I love the music, man.”
Kendall sighed. “Be happy you can still go there.”
He wasn’t actually bitter. His feet hadn’t really touched a dance floor since he was a kid. After his dad died, the money dried up, and things changed. A lot.
Kendall blew smoke rings at the window, watching them collapse against the glass.
“Besides, I’ll just go for a little while and then blow it all off again. She’ll never know the difference.”
The world was slowing to a standstill, and Kendall didn’t know if it was the weed or if it was just how sick he was of the godforsaken planet. Day in and day out, it was always the same thing. Public school sucked. Being the man of the house sucked even more. It was like he had all this responsibility just plopped in his lap all of the sudden. So maybe he didn’t handle it very well. He did find it a little amusing about how his worst influence came from the rich side of town.
“You wanna share that, dude?”
Kendall passed the blunt, even though it was almost burnt down. “Sorry.”
“Dude, you’re losin’ it lately. What’s up?” Joe’s voice sounded lower and slower than it probably was.
Kendall shrugged a shoulder. “I dunno. I just hate all this. School sucks balls, man. There’s nothing to do. I’m bored.”
“Why don’t you ask that rich uncle of yours to send you back to school with me?”
Kendall shook his head. “Little late for that now. I mean, dude. I’m no dancer.”
“Yeah, but you sing.” Joe finished playing and put his guitar aside. “When are we gonna make our band happen, dude?”
Kendall folded into himself. “Probably never, man. I can’t get off work enough to play gigs. You know that.”
It was one of Kendall’s only nights off. He had to work part time to help out at home, and between school and homework and his meaningless retail job selling to fucking spoiled brats with their smartphones and scowling faces, he was losing his mind. The weed kept him calm. Brought him back to earth while at the same time letting him float above it. He liked the numb feeling in his head, the way it made the roar of thoughts whirring in his head just disappear for a few minutes.
“Dude. I gotta get going. It’s a long way home.”
Joseph was already lighting incense, the swirling scents of ginger and a bunch of other spices filling the air, burning at Kendall’s nostrils.
“You can stay you know.”
Kendall laughed. Mainly because he was high as fuck, but also because Joseph had to be high too if he thought for a second that Kendall could do that. He had work bright and early the next morning, his weekend filled up with stupid-ass priorities.
“No way, dude. Don’t want to smoke up all your dope.”
“At least it’d be hidden. I think Rosita’s been taking it, man.” Rosita was Joe’s family’s maid. Yeah. He had a fucking maid.
“Nah, it’s me.” Kendall laughed again, flashing a peace sign on his way out the door. “Later, dude.”
Kendall made his way down the stairs and out the front door without a word to Joe’s folks and hit the pavement.
The world moved in slow-mo. He popped his sunglasses on his face, even with the sun hanging low in the sky, just to hide the bloodshot in his eyes. It was the end of summer, the city buried under scorching heat. Kendall wished he could be excited about school starting back. He sighed.
The sidewalks seemed to roll under his feet, and his stride never seemed to take him far. And every time he passed a subway station, he shrugged and kept moving. It wasn’t like he wanted to be at home. Things were rough around the edges. He didn’t like looking at it. He wanted things to be better for them, but hell if he knew how to make that happen.
Eventually the settings changed around him. He looked up and it was suddenly all worn down buildings and dirty sidewalks and graffiti, drenched in the shadows of twilight. He knew immediately when he’d walked too far. He could feel the eyes on him, popping out of the dark alleyways, following his movements.
“Shit,” he muttered, pushing his sunglasses up on his head and moving more quickly down the sidewalk. The next subway station was only a few blocks away. He could see it, lit up in the distance.
Too far.
“Hey.” It was a harshly uttered word that Kendall hardly heard due to the press of metal in his stomach. “Your cash. Hand it over.”
“I don’t have any.” The weed slowed Kendall down, and though he was teetering on the edge of sober by that point, his reflexes had not quite gotten back up to speed.
“NOW.”
Kendall held up his hands. “Man, I swear to God. I don’t have anything. I don’t even have my wallet.”
He was surrounded, feeling the burn of hateful stares, the flash of metal sliding from pockets. He swallowed, wishing his brain wasn’t so hazy so he could figure a way out.
“Come on, man. I’ve got a family. I’ve got a family.”
“We’ve all got families.”
Kendall closed his eyes, willing it away, his heart racing, roaring in his ears. Then, it hit him. “I’ve… I’ve got some weed. In my shoe.”
The guy glared Kendall down like he was expecting him to lie, but when he yanked Kendall’s sneaker off his foot, lo and behold, there was a baggy stuffed down in it.
“You got more?”
Kendall shook his head. “No, man. I smoked it.”
When he got clocked, he wasn’t expecting it. It sent him whirling into the concrete, spots playing before his eyes. The hits that followed were far from pleasant. Kendall curled into himself and let the bruises form. There was no way in hell he could take down a whole group of guys. He’d just have to wait til it was over.
Blue lights blasted into his vision, the siren cutting through all other sound.
They were gone.
Kendall sat up, bruised and bloodied, his mouth tasting like copper. If he’d been in better shape, he probably would have taken off too. Cops weren’t fun to deal with regardless of whether he was the victim or not.
“You alright, kid? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
“No. I’m fine.” Kendall frowned. He couldn’t go home looking how he did. His mother would freak and he’d never get to leave the apartment ever again.
“You need a ride home?”
“No, thanks.” Kendall wasn’t about to push his luck. He didn’t need the officer to smell the weed on his clothes.
“You sure?”
“Positive. Thanks. Just gonna get on the subway.”
He always marveled at how he could ride the subway in New York with blood all over him without anyone ever noticing.
Seemed fitting. Flitting through life without being noticed? Yeah, he was used to that.