Yes, it's a bible verse. No, it has nothing to do with the bible. It's just... it's the definition of love, okay? And this is what it looks like through the boys.
By the way, "King of Anything" by Sam Tsui is possibly the best song in the universe. It somehow always manages to match my mood. I sing it angry, sad, and happy. IT'S SO CUTE AND PERFECT! "You've got the talking down, just not the listening!"
Logan tapped his pencil on the desk absentmindedly, waiting while Carlos stared blankly at the worksheet infront of him. After about ten minutes, the latino threw his hands up in the air in an act of defeat. "That's it, I give up!" he sighed, leaning back in his whirly chair and treating himself to a spin. Logan stopped Carlos to face him, an eyebrow arched.
"You weren't trying," Logan told him patiently, referencing to how he hadn't even read the question he was supposed to be answering, let alone put his pencil to the page. Carlos huffed, pouting and crossing his arms like a toddler who had just been caught playing during story time. He was getting tired and bored, and Logan could tell. They had been sitting in their bedroom doing homework for the past three hours. If he had been on his own, Logan could have gotten it done in minutes. "Are you still confused?" Carlos nodded sheepishly, and Logan dove into the math textbook for what must have been the twelfth time, with the same enthusiasm he had the first.
James bit his lip, "Go away, Kendall. You're just going to laugh like everyone else!" A familiar sigh reverberated through the bathroom door, and James knew there wasn't any point in keeping it closed anymore. Kendall always found away in when he was upset, even if that meant crawling through the air ducts. There wasn't much you could do to keep him out. The door opened with a click, and James poked his head out to see the blonde standing there with his fists in his front pockets. "What?"
"Do you want help washing it out?" Kendall asked, and James ran a hand through his hair, his fingers getting caught in the sticky, chewed bubble gum placed in it just moments before by a toddler. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he nodded. Kendall sidestepped in and ran the water in the sink, grabbing a stool and placing it under. James leaned back and Kendall talked him through it, sharing awkward date stories, singing songs, telling jokes, and completely ignoring the way James struggled to breathe, so worked up about his hair being potentially ruined forever. No... Kendall was better than that.
Does not envy
James was quite frankly someone to be jealous of. He was flawless. His complexion wasn't something he took lightly, and it definitely showed for it. There wasn't a freckle, mole, or acne scar on his perfect face, his hair was always just how he wanted it, and his clothes and body each on their own were enough to make Zac Efron envious. James was the ladies man, James was 'the face', James was pretty one, and he owned it.
Logan was brilliant. His brain was a cluttered, cluttered place, making connections between the farthest of subjects. Having a conversation with him was more like having a hundred little ones, you bounced around so much. Every paper he ever wrote never had a mark on it, every test was a perfect score. He'd been prepping for med school since third grade. He was a perfect AP student without even trying. He had the patience for studying and did it all the time, but everyone knew he didn't need to. Logan was a prodigy.
But when James got an F on a test? Well, he was never mad at Logan for getting yet another A+. In fact, he was the one patting him on the back for his most recent job well done. And when Logan was the bait of a joke because of his ever-present nerdy sweater vest? He never got bitter towards James because he never had to endure the same teases he did. No, he was complimenting him on how well his shirt fit. They were best friends, and just because one was better than them at something didn't mean they had to be jealous.
Does not boast
When it came down to it, it wasn't James who got the record contract. It wasn't him with his nine years of dance practice, fifty dollar hair cut, or Buster Clyde shoes. It was Kendall. With a song about turds. Directed at his one and only chance.
However, as soon as Kendall said yes, there wasn't anything else about how Kendall got the record deal. It was all about how they got the record deal. Every simple conversation, every motivational speech, every introduction to someone wondering who they were, Kendall would say, "We did it". It was a togetherthing ninety percent of the time. And the other ten? It was a James thing. "If it wasn't for you, Jay Jay, we'd still be stuck in Minne' freezing our toes off." With Kendall? No bragging included.
Does not dishonor others
Camille completely tuned out as every word Carlos was saying filtered through one ear and out the other. Her eyes glazed over, her jaw fell slack... the works. After about ten minutes a "So what do you think?" graced her ears, and she couldn't help feel relieved that their conversation was near over. She opened up her mouth to give a half-willed, vague answer, when someone else's voice penetrated the air.
"I don't know, man. Sounds a bit too risky. But I love the idea, maybe we should do it this way..." and once again Camille tuned out. Only, this time, her mind wasn't blank. No, instead, she was thinking of how lucky Carlos was to have a friend like Kendall who respected him so much... who not only listened to the crazed babble that came out of his mouth, but actually considered it. And the way he was completely shutting him down was really nice, too... After all, someone who respected someone else that much wasn't going to let them jump from a plane and into a five foot deep pool.
Is not self seeking
There were a couple people who thought Carlos just liked to hang out with Logan for the free tutoring. After all, everyone else had to pay ten bucks to the hour. He was more then happy to set them straight.
See, there were only a select few who could see how hanging out with Logan could be a fun time, and most of those people attended Comi-con last year, and those who didn't were only unable to attend because they were busy checking out some freaky thing the moon was doing through their million dollar telescopes. So, naturally, it was hard to see why Carlos of all people, would try to spend as many waking hours of the day with little, nerdy Logan Mitchell as possible. It was, in fact, so incomprehensible that they figured the only explanation was for Carlos to be using him.
Well, whatever. Carlos knew Logan was way more fun then people gave him credit for. Since that was the case, he didn't have to share. What better way to stay attached to his hip?
Not easily angered
"Logan, man, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to kiss her." Ugh, those words again. A tinge of fury fluttered in Logan's chest, but it quelled as quickly as it had the first time it came. He wasn't mad enough to punch James down at the pool, and he wasn't mad enough to punch him now. It was an accident.
It hurt though. It hurt so, so bad. They were supposed to be best friends. Logan knew he should be feeling all kinds of angry, but he couldn't find it in him. He bit his lip, cracking the door of their bedroom open just a crack, peeking through just a little so only his one brown eye met James's one hazel. "Just... just give me a second. But I'm not mad... don't worry..."
Keeps no record of wrongs
Did BTR have their mess ups? Of course. Did they ever say the wrong things to each other? Every now and then. Did they ever grate on each others' nerves? All the time. No matter how hard they tried, they were always going to upset one another in some way, but that was okay.
One apology was all it took to get them playing nice again. So if you asked them if they had their mess ups? They wouldn't know. If you questioned them saying wrong things to each other? They'd answer with a maybe. And if you asked if they ever grated on each others' nerves? They'd laugh and give you a probably. Truth is, they did all those things. But our boys practiced "forgive and forget" to a T, and they don't worry about that kind of thing anymore.
Does not delight in evil
"But it's not mine," he told the sun-glassed man in front of him, whom he had dubbed Scary-TV-man-the-creepy-hair, hoping that would shed some light on the situation. Clearly, the director wasn't getting something because Carlos knew full well that you weren't to take things that weren't yours. And, he especially didn't want to take anything from James. They were video game buddies.
"Yeah, that's not cool," James mumbled through a mouthful of pie beside him, and Carlos looked to Scary-TV-man-with-creepy-hair hopefully, thinking he would understand. After all, James was one of his best friends. They were tight. Why would he want to do something mean to him?
Rejoices with the truth
"Well, if it wasn't you, Carlos, who the heck was the one to break my hockey stick by beating the couch?" Kendall asked, doing his best to tame his temper, but he was getting impatient. They had been having this conversation too long for his taste, and all he wanted was to find out why Wayne the Champ Jr. was split in half. My poor baby! His mind seemed to lose all other thoughts as he concentrated solely on his hockey stick and not throttling Carlos.
"I don't know, but I swear! I didn't do it!" Carlos assured him, holding his hands up, "Pinky swear, no fingers crossed!" To be honest, Kendall didn't believe him. Too be fair, it would be super hard to after walking in on him with his splintered, dead baby in his hands with lumpy, smacked-around couch cushions surrounding him. However, when a Palmwoods security tape showed a very guilty-looking group of Acro Bros leaving the room, Kendall let out a cheer. He hadn't wanted it to be Carlos in the first place.
Some things are hard to put in a delicate manner. Logan's popularity back in Minnesota was one of them. It was probably comparable to how cool the from the "White and Nerdy" music video was. (For all of you who have been deprived, that's beat-up-and-thrown-into-a-dumpster-everyday cool.) Needless to say, this was something the boys were worried about for a while, but it only lasted a few months before Kendall stepped up his game as a leader and ended it.
Logan drew himself into a ball, doing his best to cover his sides as hard kicks fell against him. Ugh... this sucked. But soon the bell would ring, and possibly sooner a teacher would come out of their classroom, ending his nightmare. "Hey!" an angry, familiar voice bellowed down the hallway. Logan couldn't help but sigh and relief. The sound of hitting, kicking, and slamming into lockers filled his ears, but Logan was mostly just concerned that no part of him was making those noises. Soon, the fight stopped, and Logan peeked out from behind his arms, eyes meeting a pair of self-satisfied, sparkling green ones.
Kendall wouldn't let anyone hurt his boys. Sure, a lot of people poked fun and said they were his "babies", but Kendall would just laugh along and agree. That is, until someone got insulted by that, which is when he'd be forced to shut you up. After all, no one messes with his wittle buddies but him.
It was just... It was a blind faith that Carlos had in him. You could see it constantly whether through the way he was constantly looking to him for answers or by the way he always agreed with him. The kid was always on his tail when they were younger, trailing behind him and practically always stepping on his heels. Despite being a people person, he had been the only one Carlos would talk to in kindergarten. He trusted him with his all. It was a bit scary, the pressure Carlos unintentionally put on him to always be right, to guide him, but he wouldn't trade it for the world.
So naturally, when he heard the little Latino screaming "CATCH ME KENDALL!" from across the Palmwoods lobby, Kendall went running. He wasn't letting Carlos fall; he was more trust worthy than that.
James waited with baited breath, frantically grabbing for the stranger standing next to him's hand and squeezing it tight as the judge walked up the steps to the stage. He prattled off the honorable mentions, and James bounced on his heels, a nervous aura flooding off him in waves. The man speaking to them, a middle-aged professor with a sizable gut, was rambling on about the astounding achievements of the third place winner before announcing it, and James could kick something out of frustration. Logan had to get a prize... he just had to...
Finally, the judge managed to make his way to first place, and, admittedly, everything he said in the past half hour had gone through one of James's ears and out the other. And then, and then, that one syllable he'd been waiting for graced his ears. "Lo-" and with those two short letter, James was jumping up and down and cheering at the top of his lungs as the professor finished pronouncing his best friend's name. "-gan Mitchell." He was clapping to hard, his cheers were misplaced and deserving more of a football stadium, and Logan was blushing up a storm, but James didn't care. His best bud had won the National Science Fair, all James had ever hoped and wanted for him, and he was celebrating this win like it was meant to be.
Life doesn't always treat you well, and just because BTR managed to get a record deal, it didn't mean they were an exception. There were hard projects in school, inner-band fighting, outer-band fighting, sickness, deaths in their families... it was hard. Really, really hard. Yet, somehow, when Friday night rolled around, no matter what the occasion or what the situation, all four of the boys managed to make their way around one of the fire pits. At first, it was an everyone thing, they were never ones to turn anyone down, but soon their other friends started to trickle back to their rooms, the fire dying down and the cold night air getting to them.
And then it was just the four of them, all sitting around the still hot embers of a long gone fire and wrapped up in hoodies and blankets. Every Friday. Sometimes Jo and Camille didn't go upstairs until 2AM, and other times it was just Guitar Dude chilling with them for an hour. Sometimes they laughed and kept singing songs with no audience, and other times the night was filled with deep stairs into the warm glow of the pit and dark confessions. They were just people... embarrassed themselves, let insults get to them, and got stressed out. But none of that mattered on their Friday nights when only the moon and bitter cold was left to keep them company.
Because they knew they had each other. No matter what.
That was two weeks in the making, and, in my opinion, so worth it! Please review, my little duckies!