Fic - For What It's Worth (7/25)
Title: For What It's Worth
Chapter: 7/25
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 bigtimebang. 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 Seven
James made good on his promise.
Kendall came to school the next day to see a million flyers adorning empty spaces all over campus: KENDALL KNIGHT IS A LIAR.
Apparently James Diamond had a flair for the dramatic.
“Fuck,” Kendall muttered.
Camille helped him pull them all down before his first class, but he knew that more was to come.
Over the next couple of weeks, James went out of his way to make Kendall miserable - from knocking his lunch out of his hands and splattering it all over the ground (including his pink smoothie) multiple times - to stealing his clothes after dance class so Kendall had to walk around in his tights all day. He bedazzled everything in Kendall’s locker. Kendall couldn’t figure out when James managed to have the time, because he never caught James in the act. James was always practicing, practicing, practicing.
“You need to stop this,” Kendall growled, waltzing right into the dance studio and shutting off James’ music. James was on his toes, and he looked beyond offended when the silence reigned in the room.
“You need to turn that back on right now,” he commanded.
“Or what? You’re gonna bedazzle my face to match my backpack?” Kendall seethed, dropping the sparkly abomination to the floor in front of James.
James lowered himself onto his heels and put his hands on his hips. ”Maybe.” He slithered past Kendall with ease. “Or perhaps you could just join the higher level dance classes so we can put an end to all this nonsense?”
“No.”
“Then get lost. I don’t talk to slackers.”
“I’m not a slacker,” Kendall argued, his jaw tightening. “Don’t call me that.”
“You’re not living up to your potential,” James said, stretching a leg up onto the barre. “That makes you a slacker.”
“No it doesn’t. I’m here, aren’t I? I’m not cutting class or anything? Maybe I’m just brushing up on my basics!”
“You’re a liar too. Which makes those flyers I made really suitable doesn’t it?” James switched legs.
“You don’t know me.”
“I know that you’re bored in that class. I’ve watched you in the past few that I visited. You’re bored to death. I don’t get why you don’t just move up. Find a challenge. Do something with yourself.”
“I don’t want to be a dancer,” Kendall said.
James looked offended at the very idea. “Well, what the hell do you want to do then?”
“I don’t know…” Kendall paused, shaking his head, frustrated. “I don’t have to explain myself to you! Just get off my back or you’ll be sorry. You told that Jett kid that I’ll make good on my threats, so I know you know I’m serious.”
“Try the higher level courses,” James said, turning to look at Kendall completely for the first time, feet flat on the ground. “If you don’t love them, you can go right back to your boring existence.”
Kendall sighed. “Give me one reason why I should. Seriously. Give me one.”
James kicked Kendall’s backpack out of the way. “Turn the music back on. Track four.”
Kendall swallowed. Something in James’ eyes challenged him, and he never backed down from a challenge. So he did it. He turned the music on. It was an easy piano piece that drifted through the speakers, but it wasn’t classical by any means. It didn’t have the structure behind it. It flowed like paint from a paintbrush, over the room in a wave.
James danced. He moved across the floor with an ease Kendall didn’t think was possible, swaying and sweeping as simply as a glance from Kendall’s eye.
Kendall’s mouth ran dry. Watching James, he was absolutely mesmerized. He felt himself catapulted back in time, to when he was just a small child, watching the older kids dance and feeling everything in his body pulse with excitement and want. He’d wanted to be a dancer so badly when he was a kid, seeing the bodies lift and dip and twirl. He’d been completely fascinated, and completely, totally smitten.
James was just like those kids. No. He was better. Kendall had never seen anyone in his life do something so perfect. It was almost like he’d been animated, drawn on to the planet so everything he did was to the point, flawless. The curve in his spine as he dipped back, the long lines of his arms, the slight curl in his foot - it was all so well-rehearsed. But at the same time, it bubbled over with emotion. The expressions that played over James’ face were complex and powerful - it made Kendall feel everything along with him.
He didn’t really know what was happening, but by the time James finished, Kendall was shaking.
“You are perfectly capable of doing that,” James said softly. “Perfectly capable.” He grabbed Kendall’s backpack and shoved the ridiculously sparkly bag into Kendall’s arms. “And it makes me sick that you won’t share that with people. You have a gift, Kendall Knight. Don’t waste it.”
Kendall couldn’t speak. He just clutched his backpack and stared at James until he disappeared out the door.
…
Kendall caught himself practicing in his bedroom.
It wasn’t until he was on pointe (or as much as he could do in his sneakers) and in mid-pirouette that he realized it. He saw himself in his dresser mirror and nearly toppled over his bed. He couldn’t believe himself. He’d been trying forever to forget that he ever wanted to be a dancer. He didn’t like the sudden hurt that hit him in the chest when he realized what he was doing.
He flopped onto his bed with a huff.
Maybe James was right. Maybe he was wasting his life.
He started to text Joseph.
And then he realized something else.
He hadn’t spoken to his so-called best friend in over a month. Close to two, actually.
The guilt made him want to bury himself in a hole. He texted him anyway, and tossed his phone to the side when he didn’t receive an immediate response. Who was he kidding? Joseph had probably forgotten all about him. If Kendall was such a liar, slacker, life-waster, who would want to be his friend?
Kendall hated being moody. But he figured it came with being a teenager.
He didn’t like thinking about dancing. He really didn’t like that thinking about dancing led him to thinking about James.
“Hey Mom,” Kendall greeted, trudging down the stairs.
“What’s wrong?” She responded immediately, her mom instincts kicking in.
Kendall shrugged a shoulder, clambering onto the couch with her in the living room. She pulled him to her chest and he rested against her.
“Am I… am I an awful person?”
“Kendall, honey! No!” She looked almost hurt that he would think it. “What would give you that idea?”
Kendall sighed. “It’s just. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. Am I wasting it away? Am I making any kind of impact on anyone at all? Or am I just going to… I don’t know… fade out of existence?”
“Kendall, sweetie.” His mother kissed him on top of his head, stroking his arm. “You’re just a teenager. You’ve got lots of time to figure out what you want to do. And you’re in a new place. Of course you’re going to feel like a fish out of water. But it’s going to get better, I promise.”
Kendall didn’t feel much better. “I’m… thinking about changing my classes at school on Monday. I’m thinking of auditioning for the higher levels in the dance program.”
His mother grew quiet. “Are you sure?”
“No. I’m not sure about anything.” He pulled away from his mother and hugged his knees to his chest. “I haven’t really done it since…… you know.”
“I know.”
“But this guy keeps telling me I have a gift that I’m wasting. And he’s so stubborn about it. He won’t let up.”
“Kendall, I support whatever you choose to do. Follow your heart.” She kissed Kendall on the forehead as she stood up. “I’ve got to run to the grocery store. Do you want anything?”
Kendall shook his head. She patted his cheek and headed for the door.
“Hey, Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
…
Haven’t heard from you in a while. Guess you’re all caught up in the West Coast. :-/
Kendall frowned at the text. All he could text back was: I’m sorry. Things have been really hectic. I’ll explain later.
His Ballet I class began.
Kendall was bored. Bored to tears. He started hating it with a burning fiery passion. Everyone around him annoyed him with their constant questions. No one knew what to do. And Kendall didn’t get it, because it wasn’t that fucking hard.
He moped through his other classes.
“Hey,” Carlos greeted after Acting I, in his knee-high chucks and feather earring. “You look bummed. Pink smoothie?”
Kendall offered him a smile. “So good to see you Captain Jack.”
“Shut up,” Carlos laughed. “What’s eating you?”
“Your buddy James,” Kendall sighed. “You know he’s been messing with me, right?”
“Still?” Carlos asked, looking almost surprised. “I’m amazed he’s had time. He was here all weekend practicing for a school audition.”
“All weekend?” Kendall stared.
“Yeah. I ran by him last night around midnight, and he was in one of his hardcore states.” Carlos’ face contorted to something more worried, bothered. “…He’d written all his flaws on the mirrors in the room to remind him to fix it. I hate it when he gets like this. You can’t talk to him. You can’t tell him to stop. He’s obsessed.”
“Why is he trying so hard?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t have to. He’s amazing. But he never thinks he’s good enough.”
Kendall did notice that James hadn’t done anything to him that morning. In fact, he hadn’t seen James once, not even in his peripheral vision in the hallways. James had vanished from fucking existence. In all his moping, he didn’t realize he was having the easiest Monday he’d had in weeks.
“He is really good,” Kendall murmured, the vision of James dancing for him burned into his retinas. He looked down at his own skinny legs and wondered how James could possibly think Kendall could measure up to that level of skill. “…Anyway. Lunch?”
“Every day, man.” Carlos swung an arm around Kendall’s waist when they made their way down the stairs.
It really had become an everyday thing. Carlos always took Kendall to lunch. Oftentimes, Camille would join them too, and they would walk to whatever restaurant they were feeling for the day. The deli around the corner was still their main crashpad, and the staff knew them by name. Kendall did love the pink smoothies after all.
“Hey guys, wait up!” Camille beckoned from the top of the stairs, rushing after them with her bag slung over her shoulder and her chestnut curls waving in the breeze. “I’m starving. I’m not going to come between you guys’ little love fest, am I?”
“Love fest?” Kendall raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, you two are practically boyfriends nowadays. Attached at the hip!”
Carlos bumped his hip against Kendall’s. “Please, he’s so not my type.”
Kendall flushed bright red. “What?”
Carlos and Camille chuckled at Kendall’s expense.
“We’re just teasing you,” Carlos added on after a few minutes, squeezing Kendall into his side. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hit on you or anything. You know, unless you want me to.”
They waved at the staff at the deli and ordered their usual (and Carlos got his cookie), then nestled into a booth in the corner of the place, far away from the mass of clientele that was always in the place come lunchtime.
“Speaking of which, did you ever really have a love life back in NYC, Kendall?” Camille asked, stirring her straw in her smoothie to thin it out a bit.
Kendall leaned over his own. “No. I was kind of a loner back in NYC. It was just me and Joe all the time.”
“Joe’s your burnout best friend, huh?” Camille smiled.
“He was. I don’t know if he is now. He seems pretty pissed that we haven’t talked very much.”
“Distance does that,” Carlos said comfortingly. “Don’t worry. You guys will catch up. A couple of months isn’t nearly enough time to get settled in a place like this. Los Angeles is a crazy joint.”
Kendall shrugged a shoulder. “I told him that I wouldn’t change.” He didn’t like talking about it. It made him feel all itchy and uncomfortable. “But I don’t really know if I am or not.”
“Well, you didn’t have a bedazzled backpack before,” Camille laughed, trying to lighten up the conversation.
Kendall rubbed his thumbs against the cold plastic cup containing his smoothie, leaving little marks in the small mist of condensation. Camille’s shoulders slumped a little.
“You’ve been down all weekend, Kendall. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I just… I’m thinking about… taking higher dance classes.”
Carlos crunched a potato chip between his teeth. “Why? Are you bored in the first level classes?”
“Yeah.”
“How good are you? Those classes are intense even for first years.”
“He’s amazing,” Camille answered for Kendall. “He pretty much choreographed my whole tap routine.”
“Wow, really? I saw that routine. It was really good.”
“Is that why James has been messing with you?” Camille asked offhandedly.
“Yeah, kinda.”
“Well, don’t let him make the decision for you,” Carlos said through a mouthful of food. “James is an intense guy, but he’ll lay off if you hold your ground. Do things for you, man.”
Kendall stared into the pinky fluffy liquid in his glass. “I don’t know.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
...
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll be fine. It’s not that far. I just need a little time to figure out what I want to do. Maybe a little private time on campus will help me clear my head.”
Camille frowned. “Well, okay. But it’s already late. Call me if you need me to come pick you up. You know I will.”
“I’ll be okay, I swear.”
Kendall knew what he wanted to do to clear his head. And for the first time in a long time, it actually didn’t involve smoke drifting around his skull. He had his pointe shoes in his bag, new and ready to break in. That was when he heard it. The music. It was the piece that James had danced for him just a few days before.
Was that the piece James was practicing all weekend? Was that the piece that apparently had all kinds of flaws?
Kendall felt his heart drop at the thought. Kendall hadn’t danced in any professional form since he was a kid, but he knew that to perform something considered flawed, incomplete for another human being was… brave. And it made Kendall feel pretty honored.
And he hadn’t seen one problem with the dance.
He moved quietly over to the door of the studio, peeking through.
The mirrors in the room were littered with words in black dry-erase marker. Some made sense, like Watch your feet in measure six, and Keep in time with the sixteenth rest. But Kendall could see the struggle over the days, growing in big black letters, larger and more quickly scrawled STOP SCREWING UP. FAILURE. STOP SLACKING. TRY HARDER.
Kendall was horrified. It was like seeing every insecurity James had played out before him as he pushed the door further open. YOU SUCK. NOT GOOD ENOUGH. Do you even want to get into college? Do you want to be a dancer at all?
And then, in the middle of the floor, the lights beaming down on him, was the crumpled form of James.
Kendall dropped his bag. “James! James! Hey!”
He rolled James over onto his back, the sweat sliding over Kendall’s fingers. James’ chest was heaving, his face twisted and contorted in pain.
“Wh-what… what are you doing here?” he half-breathed, half-groaned.
Kendall ignored James’ question and substituted his own. “What happened to you?”
“Just. Ungh-my legs. They cramped up. Really bad. I-I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.” He tried to raise up, but he swayed violently into Kendall’s shoulder. His skin burned against Kendall’s.
“You’re sick,” Kendall deduced. “You’ve got fever.”
“I’m fine,” James tried to argue, but through the haze of his pain, it lacked conviction.
“You’re dehydrated,” Kendall said, “How much water have you been drinking? How long have you been working on this?”
The song he had been dancing to faded into silence. James closed his eyes, looking like he wanted to cry. He tried to lift himself off of Kendall a bit, but he came toppling back over again.
“That’s it. I’m not leaving you here.” Kendall shouldered his bag, and then slid his arms under James’ knees and behind his back, cradling him as he lifted him from the floor.
“N-no. That’s not necessary. Put me down.”
“Shut up.”
Kendall carried James out of the studio, out of the building, and out into the night breeze. James’ head lolled against his chest, his cheeks colored with a mixture of fever and shame.
“Where’s your dorm?”
James pointed to one looming building just beyond the dance building. “2J.”
Kendall climbed the dimly lit stairs to James’ dormitory, and never complained, even when his arms started to ache under James’ weight.
“You got your keys?”
“There’s one on top of the sconce…” James winced, the muscles in his legs twitching. His voice was withering away. “Put me down. I can get it.”
Kendall leaned James against the door, ignoring his request as he gripped the little metal key in his hand.
James’ dorm was small. Which, yes, it was a dorm, so of course it was small. But it was extremely modestly furnished in comparison to what seemed to be the economic class that attended the place. He had a full sized bed shoved up against the wall, on what looked to be a very old headboard. He had no television, just a small boombox on top of some milk crates, and his tiny kitchen looked to be pretty empty on food. But all over the walls was dance memorabilia. Kind of like Camille’s room, except instead of pictures and posters of him, it was things he aspired to be, almost like he needed the constant reminder to push him forward. Kendall carried him over to his bed regardless and gently laid him down. His ballet shoes were still on.
“I’ll get you some water.”
“I can…”
“It’s fine. I got it.” Kendall grabbed a glass from the dish drainer and threw a few ice cubes in it, then filled it with tap water. “You can sip on this. I can run to the gas station and get you some Gatorade too. That’ll help.” He walked across the small space and pushed the glass into James’ hand.
James sipped on it, but he kept an eye on Kendall as he did so.
“You did too much. You’re pushing yourself too hard.”
“I don’t need a lecture.”
Kendall sat on the foot of his bed, giving him a critical look. “What if you’d been stuck there all night? Would you have preferred someone find you all dried out in the morning? People die from stuff like that.”
“I’m not gonna die. Christ. Don’t be so dramatic.”
Kendall reached over and brushed his hand over James’ forehead, his sweaty hair gliding over his fingers. James’ breath hitched.
“You’re running fever. Do you have any Tylenol or anything?”
James swallowed. “It’s on the counter. I took some yesterday morning…”
“So you’ve been sick for a couple of days?” Kendall huffed, going over to the bottle and popping the pills into his hand. “Here.”
James took the pills. “I’m sorry, okay? I have something important coming up. Excuse me if I actually care about something.”
Kendall glared, taking his seat back on James’ bed, grabbing his feet and pulling his ballet shoes off. “I care about things. Just because I don’t care about the same things you do doesn’t mean I don’t care at all. And I’m not the one with charlie-horses from hell.”
“You can leave. You took me home. You don’t have anything to feel guilty about.”
Kendall rolled his eyes. “I’m going to make sure you’re okay before I go anywhere, got it? It’s how I was raised. It’s how I am.”
“So you’re not a complete asshole. Good to know.” James took another swig of his ice water. Looking at him, Kendall could see every line of exhaustion on his face, the dark bruises of circles under his eyes, the sallow hue of his skin.
“Keep drinking on that,” Kendall said. “I’ll run and get you some Gatorade. And some soup.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Yeah, well, what are you gonna do about it? You can hardly move.”