A/N: Well, I had this idea in my head for a couple of weeks and I finally decided to write it down because it was slowly building itself in my mind and I started forgetting scenes. So here we are. I have even started writing chapter 2, but continuing it depends on the feedback this first chapter will receive(if it does anyway). Rated M because of later chapters and angst because sometimes Logan has issues...
Let me know what you think. It will be really, REALLY appreciated.
Oh and I do not own Big Time Rush.
Okay, hope you enjoy!
Logan Mitchell was always the antisocial bunny. He kept ignoring all people. People that wanted to become his friends, people that bullied him, people that cared, people that tried to take his place as the best student in class. Even if Logan considered talking to them, he had this lump in his throat, that knob that was tightening painfully every time he thought about opening his mouth.
Logan would only talk to his family. His mum and dad never suspected anything. When Logan was a kid he used to talk briefly with the other children at parties, at small gatherings, at celebrations at kindergarten maybe. He only did it because his parents were pushing him in his fellow classmates' groups and started conversations with them leaving Logan to continue. Logan hated it.
In junior school, his parents weren't around as much, so Logan felt free to be himself. He avoided every conversation with a mumbled excuse and hid in the toilets until the bell rang. He might have been the only person in the entire world that felt happy to hear the school bell ring signaling the end of the break. Logan would ran back in his classroom and sit at the desk he shared with no one else but his school bag at the very front of the class. He would march his – at least ten – perfectly sharpened pencils on his desk, pile up the subject's books and notebooks in front of him and impatiently wait for the teacher to walk in the classroom so he could start learning.
By the end of junior school Logan had made no friends. Sure lots of his classmates, boys and girls, had tried to approach him, but they failed miserably. He became the nerd of his class and soon enough he was being called names behind his back. As they were growing up, some boys became really disturbing. Finding his school bag in the trash can, his notebooks ripped, his pencils broken in half and names being written on his desk was a routine for Logan. It only made him hate people more. It confirmed his theories about the cruel world he lived in.
When his parents asked him about bringing any friends home to hang or if he would like to throw a party and invite his whole class, he would fake illness. Sometimes his mum found out, but some others she didn't. She never told Logan though, she thought he might have his reasons.
In high school things remained the same. But no, that is a lie. Things got worse. Logan was being bullied to the point of asking his parents to enroll him to another school. His parents refused to do it until they heard the whole story with every detail, if it was possible. Logan never before had talked to his parents about being bullied. When he told them the serious incidents, they couldn't believe in their ears. They both had hugged their son tight and his father told him "everything will be okay, son." And Logan believed him.
The new school was much better. The students there already had their friends and no one was interested in Logan or becoming his friend. His parents hoped otherwise.
Another thing Logan was happy about was that the boys wouldn't even bother to bully him. He had earned a few strange looks and he had heard being called "weirdo", but who cares? He became the best student in his class and the second best couldn't even compete.
Logan focused on his studies and spent hours in the local library, studying books of various subjects until his attention got caught by medical books and encyclopedias. He found surgeries intriguing and soon studying them wasn't enough. One day, after school, he followed a different way home. He stopped outside the DVD Club of his neighbourhood and walked in hesitantly. He found by himself the section where all the medical related DVDs were kept and he chose three or four before queuing to rent them. Easy task for normal people, but Logan was not a normal person so he mumbled a "Hi" and passed his ID card instead of telling his name and needed information, before leaving without saying anything else. That night he watched all of them and everything was making sense now, he felt like his life was beginning to point in a direction. He wanted to become a doctor.
His classmates were talking about new technology and computers. Logan was not a technology friendly person, he didn't own any devices. He preferred his books and the library, but a girl mentioned something about being able to see whatever you want on the internet and Logan's mind immediately connected this with surgery videos. He knew movies were fake and that the actors weren't really doctors, they weren't really worried about making a mistake or cutting the wrong vein, that it was all part of a scenario. He wanted to see how real doctors reacted, what they would do if they really were losing a patient. Logan found himself, for the very first time in his life, wanting to really talk to someone, to ask questions that weren't about the lesson. He couldn't though, his body wouldn't let him. He stopped taking notes and stretched his ears, focused on their conversation instead of what the professor was lecturing.
Logan went home that day and finished all his homework in no time. He had decided that at dinner he would talk to his parents about wanting to become a surgeon and he would request a computer.
His father was working at the coffee shop at the corner of the street and his mother was a secretary at a lawyer's office. The Mitchells owned a little two-story house – his mother had inherited it – since their marriage. Logan grew up there as an only child and his parents tried to raise him carefully not spoiling him. They were more than satisfied with their son, he had made them proud countless of times in those past sixteen years and he was their treasure. They lived plainly and that is why their two average wages were more than enough to spend each month. They saved a small amount of money each time they received their monthly income for Logan. They intended on sending him to college right after he graduated high school. They knew he would become something big.
They were all seated at the dinning table when Logan spoke.
"Mum. Dad. I have something to tell you." he announced.
"What is it, honey?" his mother asked while serving the salad. His dad was cutting his stake, but his ears were focused on his son.
"I, I um, decided what I want to do in my life," he continued not as strong as he started. He wasn't afraid to tell them, there wasn't something bad about it, but he knew they would do anything to support him and he also knew they were working hard already. Now his mother had placed the bowl on the table and his father had let down his cutlery and they were both looking at Logan.
"Go on, son," his father encouraged once he saw Logan hesitating to continue.
Logan took a deep breath, "I want to become a doctor. A surgeon actually."
His parents turned to look at each other before smiling widely as if their son just told them he found a cure for an incurable disease. Logan had to clear his throat loudly to gain their attention and hopefully a response. His mother was the first to speak.
"Baby, we know,"
"You know? How?"
"I was tidying up your room the other day and I found medical books and movies under your pillow, under your bed...I also found your Logan's-Future List-"
"Mum!" Logan interrupted, eyes wide.
"I know, I know you hate it when I mess with your room, but I came across them and I couldn't keep myself from peeking," she apologized.
"It's okay, mum," Logan said in a low voice with flushed cheeks.
"Logan," his father started, "we always knew you would want to become something big, we expected it," he smiled, "in two years we will have the money needed for you to move to college-"
"No, Dad, please. I will find a job, I will earn my own money. I don't want to burden you with more expenses," Logan just wanted them to know, he had no one else to tell after all.
"Honey," his mother reached to take her son's hand into her own, "as your father said, we've been expecting this, we've got our savings for you."
"But, how? How-"
"Parents know, honey, they always do," she interrupted and gave his hand a kiss before letting it go, "now let's eat before it gets cold."
Logan felt relief. He was so lucky to have his parents to support him and look out for him. The computer idea flew out of the window, never mind, he could use the library's. Logan now knew there was nothing he could keep from his parents and when he heard at school about other parents that constantly fought, beat their children, owed their homes to the banks, were picky with jobs even though they had nothing to eat and discouraged their children's dreams, he felt so much gratitude for his own family that his heart was ready to explode.
Months passed, a whole year passed and then some more months. Logan was now in his senior year and he was still alone. Sometimes he felt jealous that his classmates had developed the bond of friendship and that he wasn't part of it. Sometimes he needed someone to talk to, but not his parents. He needed someone to share his thoughts, his dreams, his expectations, his findings with. But Logan was a hard nut to crack. He could manage. He started a diary at the age of seventeen and a half. There he kept everything important, he wrote about his days, about the new students that his class had this year, about the part time summer job he had, about the computer he bought with his own money. He wrote about his sexuality.
Through high school, lots of girls had tried to flirt with him, tried to touch him in any way. Logan never gave a second thought about turning them all down. They were distracting him from keeping notes too, that was rude of them. He had seen girls crying and swearing to God that they would kill some boy – their ex probably – for various reasons and he never liked the drama. He had connected relationships with whiny chicks that each week had a new boyfriend. That was definitely a waste of time. Logan wanted to become a doctor, doctors don't have time for such things.
Logan was watching a video on his computer one night – heart surgery. He was anxious through it and the doctors' and nurses' rushed actions and words were making him even more. Finally after two hours, the surgery was over and the woman was saved. Logan needed a couple more minutes for his heart to calm down and he took a few deep breaths. That was a rather difficult surgery.
The surgery was over, but the video was not. The camera man was following the doctor out of the surgery room where two nurses were waiting for him. They immediately run up to him, the one took off his bloody gloves and threw them away while the other one took off his mask. The doctor looked young, probably around the age of thirty, – quite young for the lead surgeon, Logan thought – dark brown hair, sea blue eyes, skin pale white. The nurses kept undressing the surgeon, throwing all the pieces of the dirty blue uniform in the trash can. Then suddenly Logan's breath caught in his throat. This man was wearing only a pair of dark blue jeans under the filthy uniform and Logan could see how strong, well-built his body was. His arm muscles prominent, his abdomen must have suffered a lot of exercise too and his back was wide and muscly.
The surgeon moved to the big sink and one of the nurses gave him a white soap. He took it and started rubbing his hands together with it, his arms and back flexing with each movement. Now that the camera man moved, from the new angle, Logan could see sweat on the man's forehead and back, sliding down his spine until the beads disappeared on the waistband of his jeans. These jeans were hugging his ass so perfectly and his thighs too. Huh?
Logan squeaked and pushed himself back with so much force that his chair hit his bed and fell to the side. Logan groaned when he felt sharp pain hit his head. He stood up carefully, he felt dizzy. Logan pulled the chair up, placed it in from of his desk again and took a seat. Only this time it wasn't so comfortable. Hand still massaging his head, Logan looked down and saw a visible tent in his pajama pants. No, that wasn't possible. Why?
Then he looked at his computer screen. The doctor was buttoning up a white shirt while looking at the camera. He was...beautiful. He shot a smile at the camera and the camera man giggled. He moved closer and closer to the surgeon until the screen went black. The video wasn't over yet, it still had twenty seconds to play. Logan turned up the volume and stuck his ear against the speakers. What he heard next was the sound of a kiss followed by two sentences he didn't expect to hear, but made his heart skip a beat.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
Basically, yes. Logan found out he was gay. Not only from this video. This just triggered his curiosity to find out. It crossed his mind once, when he caught himself licking his lips at the sight of one of his classmates playing football shirtless. That was no proof, though. He shook the thought away and it never came back. Until three years later. Now he knows why some mornings he woke up from a dream, about a doctor he saw on a video, hard. He knows why when Camille, one of the hottest girls in school, whispered to him dirty words and things she would do to him once they were alone, it did nothing to him.
Now Logan knew and he had no one to share it with. He couldn't tell his parents; he was too shy, too scared. He had no one. No one except his diary.
. . . .
Logan graduated five months ago. He turned eighteen one month ago and his new life was about to start in one week. He was moving to college. He was moving to college!
Logan was very excited. He even kissed the cashier at their local market that morning. He returned home, left the bags with the food his mum told him to buy on the kitchen counter and took two steps at a time to reach his bedroom quickly. When he opened the door he saw his mother sitting on his bed, crying. She cried a lot those days because her only son was moving out, but these were mostly tears of pride. What Logan saw and heard at that moment was sadness.
"Mum?" he walked further in. She didn't answer, she just continued crying. He took a few more steps towards her and his heart dropped in his stomach.
"You never told me," she choked out through sobs and tears, closing the little notebook and raising it for Logan to see.
"Mum, that is none of your business," he said and raised his hand to grab his diary. She moved it out of his reach.
"I am pretty sure my son's health is my business," she looked at him with swollen red eyes. Logan's heart broke.
"I am fine, mum," he tried to take his diary again, but she didn't let him.
"You are suffered depression, Logan. You still do," her last word broke and she started sobbing again, loudly. Logan didn't know what to do; hug her? Tell her she was wrong? Leave? He didn't know.
He sat next to her and said nothing. He waited for her to let it out.
"You know," she started, wiping her eyes with one hand, "I thought the reason you weren't talking to us the last two years, like you used to, was because you found a friend. I thought you had finally found a friend."
"I don't need a friend," Logan turned to look at her. Her eyes were so sad he couldn't look in them.
"Everybody needs a friend, Logan. Someone to rely on, someone to talk to,"
"I don't," he insisted.
She shook her head and tried to find his eyes that were avoiding hers. "That is not what you write in here," she stood up and moved to place the diary on Logan's desk, "I am so sorry, Logan. You are not moving to college."
Logan's head whipped up with wide eyes, silent tears already making their way down his cheeks.
"What!" he shouted.
"I am sorry, I am not letting you go. You must get well first," she left Logan sitting on his bed, in shock and crying. This was worse than what he was living all these years. His own mother against him. Worse than anything he imagined happening in his life and he knew that when his father heard about it, it would become even worse. He closed his eyes and tried to stop the flow of his tears, but somehow they managed to escape his eyes.
"You are not sorry," he whispered and laid back on his bed. He buried his face into his pillow and started crying uncontrollably.
. . . .
"Honey, open up,"
"No!"
"We are not trying to punish you, you have to understand that,"
"Yes, you are!"
"Honey, please. We want to help you,"
"You want to get rid of me!"
His mother sighed, "We love y-"
"This is bullshit,"
"Logan!" now his father was pounding his fist on his son's door, "Open this door. Now!"
"Leave me alone!"
"I will break it down if I have to," his father threatened. To his surprise, Logan unlocked the door and opened it wide in a matter of seconds. He was in his pajamas, his hair was dirty and sticking in every direction, his eyes bloodshot. Logan's room was a mess. Clothes were on the floor, the window was fully open and the strong wind whipped the light blue curtains so hard they might fall off. His desk was full of small pieces of paper which the wind was spreading around the room and his bed was just a mattress. The comforter, the pillow were nowhere in sight.
"Okay," Logan started, his parents weren't going to interrupt him even though they were worried sick with what they saw, "I am going. But only because I don't want to see you for the time being," he clenched his teeth, "and because I want to go to college and I have no money for that."
His mother nodded rapidly and moved forward to hug her son tight. Logan didn't move, he didn't hug her back. He just wanted this to end. "It's for your own good, honey," she said and pulled back. She gave a kiss on her son's cheek and Logan rolled his eyes. His father said nothing, he just stared.
"You are leaving tomorrow morning. Get ready." his father finally said and once his wife walked out of the room he closed the door.
Logan was trying to hide in his room for a week, he was trying to avoid this, but he finally gave in. If his parents wanted him to leave and go stay in a center where anti-social, depressive people stayed for at least six months in order to go to college, then fine. He would also have his own therapist, who he already hated by the way. His mother thought he will make friends there, or just his therapist, it doesn't matter. She just wanted for her son to make one or two friends, to communicate.
But Logan didn't. He just wanted to be a doctor.
