"No, James. Please, don't go. I want you to help-me-unpack." Kendall pleads and James stops at the door; the other male is less than convinced by his friend's words. He knows better than to believe him, he knows he's a liar and on top of that he's a freak.

Unsympathetically he toys with the door handle and watches as his friend winces from the torture "Yeah, well if that's what you really wanted you would have invited me here two years ago when you moved in and not now as some kind of sorry make-up attempt for breaking up the band."

Kendall shakes his heart hurt by his friend's harsh words and accusations. But he can't pull his words together, in a way; James is saying nothing but the truth. "You can't be mad at me for that. I mean. I didn't—. It's not that I didn't want to be in the band or to have you over... Just—. It doesn't matter. We're supposed to be best friends, man, give me a break…" it was supposed to come out as a command but it flowed like a plea from a helpless little child. That's what Kendall felt like, this wasn't fair, this wasn't his fault. He tried – he tried to make it stop.

But James laughs sarcastically none the less "Right, best friends." He nods then gets an evil look upon his face that makes his normally handsome complexion looking uglier than sin itself "Do best friends —."

Kendall cuts him off suddenly on the offensive, fearing what the words will do to him "Don't" He closes his eyes erasing all mental pictures and images. "Things are different now. It's over — I swear."

"Well, that's too bad" laughs James "because all I can do is think about it. That's why from now on we aren't friends anymore. That's why I shouldn't be here. That's why after I leave I'm never coming back. And, that's why you didn't invite me or the other guys over for two years. I'm not surprised that they didn't come. You can't deal with the truth — you can't deal with being around us when we know what he did to you. Admit it, Kendall; if not to me, or anyone else, then at least to yourself!" James demands

Kendall shakes head furiously "No! He didn't —. I didn't. Just—. Shut up!" he demands having all the horrible images just fly back into his mind.

"Shut up?" retorts James "Shut up?" suddenly furious he slams the door shut then grabbing Kendall by the collar pins his back to it. "Say it again!" he snaps and slams the other male once again "Say it again!"

A whimper escapes Kendall's lips and he feels the tears well in the corners of his eyes "James, stop." he pleads "please..." being forced into submission reminds him of the event and it reminds him in very vivid and painful detail.

"Please?" growls James once again slamming the other male against the door "PLEASE? You're disgusting!" he snaps then slams his hand on the door beside the others head "You're sick, Kendall!"

As he's released, Kendall lets his back slide down the door and begins sobbing bitterly "It wasn't — it wasn't my fault! It was my job!" he defends in a choke "What was I gonna do?"

James paces the room angrily before lunging at his former friend once again and puts a vise-grip on Kendall's neck "Tell somebody!" he snarls not able to believe his friends stupidity "Make it stop! But, no. No, you didn't stop it — you liked it!" he accuses and Kendall shakes his head furiously

"No, I don't — I didn't. I—." James's hand slams on the door again pushing Kendall to silence

"You little faggot! That's exactly why you didn't tell! Because you're gay! Because you LIKED it."

"No!" Kendall whimpers "I'm not I just he's"

"He's what? He's the manager of the apartments! Don't you see anything wrong with that? You ignorant" slam "incompetent" slam "worthless" slam "idiot!" James's hand was practically smashing through the mahogany.

Kendall drops his head in shame, what can he say to his former friend's cruel words? What can he do to prove that he didn't let the molestation continue because he 'liked it'? Nothing, he can say nothing at all. But he's telling the truth...he never wanted any of this to happen...

Two years earlier, Kendall was fairly familiar with his attacker, two years earlier he wasn't such a nervous wreck and a broken shell. Things never hinted to the evils that would occur, the antagonist would watch him with careful eyes and give him heartless smolders, but that was normal, right? After all, Kendall and his friends did cause a lot of trouble on the premises. It'd happened before, people just liked to single out Kendall, it was no big deal. Wrong — it was bigger than a big deal. This man, the same man who was normally hanging around Kendall's baby sister, the same man who tried to get rid of Kendall and his friends so many times – was a rapist – a child molester – a sadistic tyrant.

"Now you stand in that corner and think about what you've done!" snapped the manager before chucking a handful of popcorn in Kendall's direction.

"Yeah, yeah." Snorted Kendall before taking his usual spot in the corner of the office, this wasn't out of the ordinary, it happened a lot to all of the boys, it was no big deal. But this time was different, the door closed and it locked and the lights dimmed leaving Kendall alone with the manager. "Wha –why'd you close the door?" he stammered

"Don't ask any more questions," growled the manager as he crossed the room and made a move for Kendall's direction "take off your pants."

"What?" Kendall was shocked by the request "But — but why? I — I don't wanna do that." He slowly turned around and backed up but came in contact with the corner's end; he wanted to make a mad dash. He wanted to disappear and pretend this never happen. He gulped "Please," he pleaded the closed his eyes when the much older male began to touch him "please don't do this."

"Why not?" he hissed carelessly and began touching Kendall in a way that made him squeak. "Don't you like it? Don't you like being the one who gets humiliated?"

"No!" he whimpered in a serious manner "And — and if you do it, I'll, I'll tell!" he threatened but his words were ineffective. His attacker continued at him intentionally torturing him to unwanted arousal and forced pressure. Kendall parted his lips to scream to say something but it was only to be met by the much older males tongue in a forced and miserable kiss.

"You won't tell anyone," he hissed "because if I can't have you — then I'll have one of your friends or maybe" his pause lingered and Kendall began to think of other possible victims "maybe your sister, little Katie?" he cooed.

A spark went off in Kendall's head and that was enough for him to say no more, to struggle no more, to fight no more. He'd do anything to protect his friends – to protect Katie. Anything. Over time he became accustomed the abuse, he tuned out every day at the exact same time and went completely numb while the other male fantasized and fondled him. He thought of nothing, he ignored the harmful effects to his future and he dealt. No one could know about it, no one could understand why he allowed it to continue, and that forced him to be alone. First it was Jo, she began to notice how distant Kendall seemed and one refusal to kiss her too many and she was gone – then it was the guys – they hadn't run so quickly but slowly and surely they all dropped off one by one until finally only James was left – but that had ended now. His family didn't understand what was the matter with him; they didn't know why he wouldn't take off his shirt when they went to the beach, or sit close to either of them and soon enough they just stopped caring all together. The last person Kendall could even think of turning to was his father, but they hadn't spoken recently – he'd been across seas for some missions work. That's right, Kale Knight was a missionary and though he and Kendall's mother were still going strong, Kendall wasn't on the same wave length. The abuse caused him to turn to drugs and other 'sins' for help. He was afraid to go to his father and he was afraid of the rejection or the damnation that could occur. But where else did he have to go? Kendall would have to talk to his father if he ever wanted to get over what had happened, if he ever wanted to be set free from the false notion of his worthlessness.

James leaves Kendall's apartment as quickly as he entered, leaving Kendall basking in a pool of his own tears and gut wrenching sorrow. Desperately Kendall wishes his friend would just listen to him, give him time to explain, but time is gone. It's too late for Kendall to tell James that he went through what he did for him; it's too late for any of that. Sniffling he sits up and swats away any stray tears as with his other hand, he fishes into his pocket for his phone. He scrolls the contacts at a swift pace but when he sees his father's name the temptation to back out arises. No! He tells himself: No, I can do this! And in desperation he dials the number his breathing halting when he hears it: "Kendall, son, is that you? It's been a while? How you doin?" Not so good dad, not so good.