Logan

103. Roses, Part 5

*Kellan's POV*

I drew in a breath of fresh air once I got back to town, going to visit home, and then Whitney, had been nice, but it hasn't been the same since I was in my 20s. Shops that were there before are now something else, something strange, gentrified.

When Alex had called me about Natalie, I fought the urge to fly back immediately. He told me not to, that Natalie was going to be fine. That she didn't want me to worry.

She didn't look fine when I was on the phone with her at the lounge, trying not to cry in front of a bunch of people in a random airport was pretty difficult. Thank god for first class, I sat there trying to figure out what the hell I was going to say to Logan, and what was I going to do for Natalie.

Sometimes I wondered where these parents went wrong with their kids, instead of going to them, they came to me. I became the makeshift dad, the father figure for them. Except Damien, he seemed to have it together this time.

I saw him waiting for me at the baggage claim, and sped up my step a little. His hair was in his face a bit, it had grown longer since we moved in together. I walked up to him and parted his hair, looking into his eyes for a moment.

"Are you going to kiss me, or are we just going to stand here?" He smiled and I leaned in and our lips brushed. I fought the urge to pick him up and carry him to the car. Instead, he grabbed my hand and we headed toward the exit.

"I didn't know you were going to be this early," he said, "Natalie will be really happy to see you."

I shook my head, "I'll go over there, but I have to talk to your brother first."

Damien's smile faded, "I don't know if you want to do that. He's been holed up in his room for a few days. Ever since Natalie told him she doesn't want to see him he's been distant."

"All the more reason for me to talk to him."

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I'd settled for the pizza Logan had in his fridge, and this place was a mess. Dirty dishes, clothes everywhere, what the hell was wrong with this kid?

I filled up a cup with cold water and let it sit for a moment. I walked up to Logan's room and knocked on the door.

"Logan?"

"Go away." I heard him yell.

"Logan let me in."

"Why? So you can yell at me?"

"When was the last time you took a shower?"

"None of your business."

"I'm going to count to five, and if you don't open the door I'm going to make you regret it."

"Whatever, man."

"Okay, five, four, threetwoone!" I opened the door to see him curled up in a blanket, food spread all over the floor, clothes, and the only things neatly organized were the records on his shelves. Broken glass with a photo of him and Natalie on his nightstand, too.

Jesus, I thought, it's worse than I imagined. I stepped back into the bathroom and brought the cup with me, through the door and threw the water on him.

He reacted as I thought, gasping and coughing, then followed up with a, "What the fuck, dude?!"

"What the fuck is the matter with you? Aren't you better than this?"

"Fuck you! You just threw water on me in my bed!"

"Your bed needs it, look at this mess. There's a food trail, that's how you get ants and bugs, jesus look at the floor! Clothes belong in your closet, you know?"