Kyla Sanchez was not your everyday girl, and all her friends knew it. She was apathetic and laid back, often open-minded and spoke on her own behalf. In Minnesota, you can find an awful lot of people like that. There was just something about Kyla that made her different. Most people thought she was boring and too emotionless, seeing as they never saw her cry, never saw her upset. She never got mad, barely raised her voice any louder than a scold.

See, Kyla wasn't always that way. When she was younger, before her mom died, she was lively. She always smiled, bounced around, just enjoyed everything about life. She marveled everything around her. She was a perfect mixture of her mother and father. Her hair: father's. Big green eyes: mother. Skin: both of them. Her personality: her mother's. But, the day her mother died, the life seemed to, literally, be sucked right out of her. After a while, they'd all expected her to move on. She never did.

Currently, she had changed slightly. She'd crack a joke and maybe, you'd see her smile. It was highly unlikely. If she did smile, it was fake and phony. She'd laugh, but there was never humor to it. It was always blank and lacked any enthusiasm. She was 14 years old, definitely morphing into her beautiful parents everyday. However, even at the slightest mention of her mother, she'd cringe and instinctively change the subject.

"Ky!" Slowly but surely, Kyla looked over her shoulder. She saw the bright smile of her male best friend, Kendall, right in front of her. She nodded and turned back to what she was doing: her homework. It sat sprawled all over the resteraunt table-top, papers all around. Her forehead rested on both of her hands, her fingers holding her bangs. "Whaaaaatcha doin'~?"

"Homework," came the monotonous reply. Kendall walked around her table, sitting down in front of her, sliding some of the papers to face him for a better perspective. He looked up at her quizically. She let out a small grunt, "I've been...falling...a bit behind recently. Okay," she finally released her forehead, closing her books, sliding them off to the side of the table closest to the window. She pulled her soda to her mouth and took a sip, "now you have my full attention, Mr. Knight."

Said boy's smile grew wider and wider until it reached his ears. "Guess where the boys and I are going," he said, trying to contain his excitement. Kyla shrugged, sucking the last bit of soda from the straw, leaning back in the chair. "Well, I'll give you a hint. It's quite a ways a way and it rhymes with Jollygood."

Soda spurted across the dining hall, making a mist of Cherry Coca-Cola. "Wh-what?" she gasped, holding over her mouth, stomach, and nose. Kendall nodded, his smile never leaving his face. "When are you leaving?"

"Well, we're leaving tomorrow night. We're packing up today and heading out tomorrow."

"Oh," was all that came. Despite her heart being broken and ripped to shreds at the very second, she pulled that fake smile. "I'm happy for you guys."

"Thanks for your support, Kyla! We were going to go ice-skating later, then maybe grab some pizza as a last night here. Would you like to come?"

"S-sure. Can I bring Emily?" Emily was her other best friend.

"Yes."

"Cool."

Both stood, Kyla's things in her arms. They nodded to each other as Kendall got ready to order lunch, Kyla headed for the door. She needed to get away and fast. Lucky for her, her house was only two blocks away. She made the walk with ease, staring at the plain door of her house. She pushed open the door, setting her books on the bedside table. Her dad wouldn't be home until late. He had to work. When he had to work, he wouldn't drink. When he didn't drink, she didn't suffer. When she didn't suffer...what was there to be an upside to?

She made her way up to her bedroom, pulling her shoes off as she went. She looked into her bathroom, her eyes slowly welling up. She looked at the sandal in her hand before rearing her hand back, sending the sandal flying at the mirror. It didn't shatter, but it definitely left a mudprint. She backed her way onto a wall, slowly sliding down, her face in her hands. How could this be happening? The boys who made her life exciting were leaving. The ones who made her suffer all the abuse of her father were going away. They gave her the strength. She slowly stood up and walked into her bathroom. She yanked open the drawer, her hands digging in. Her fingers grazed it's cool, metallic surface. She yanked out the razor and brought it up to eye level.

She sighed and lifted up her shirt sleeve.

~One Year Later~

Big Time Rush had become pretty popular. The news reached around the country, but not a whole bunch of people were too fond of the band. Kyla noted the boys' dreams, and once she and Emily had seen the band's picture, they had decided where they were moving too: Hollywood, California. She looked out of the window of the car, looking over the new surroundings. So many buildings. She marveled as they drove past a few signs, but she ignored every one.

"Are you excited?"

"Hm?"

Emily chuckled. "We're going to find the boys."

"Oh..."

"What's up?"

"Ne? Nothing. I was just looking," Kyla resumed her look back out the window. Emily shrugged and looked back at the road. She'd gotten a job in modelling and had the choice of New York or Hollywood. She and Kyla had looked over both places and decided on Hollywood. They'd packed up and the agency found a place for them to stay. A place called "Palm Woods." Emily had laughed when she heard the name and questioned the amount of single guys, earning a punch from Kyla. Despite that, she still laughed. Even now, in the car, as the building came into view, she burst into laughter at the words. They paced inside and grabbed their key from Mr. Bitters and checked into their new room. Sure, it was pretty bland, but it was in great shape. The company Emily had signed for offered to pay for whatever rennovations they wanted to make and any furniture. They accepted.

"I have to make a phone call," purred Emily, digging her phone from her pocket. She pressed a number, held it, and put the phone to her ear. "Hey! I have something I wanted to mail to you...what's your address?" She dug through her bag for a piece of paper and set it on the counter, yanking out a pen as well. "Yep... Yep... Uh-huh.. Slow down!... Okay... Okay, thanks!" She hung up and waved the paper eagerly. "Ready to make a quick visit?"

Kyla and Emily made their way down the hallway, both being stealthy and quiet. Surprisingly, for a Wednesday, no one was out, roaming the halls. They made their way to the apartment that Carlos had given Emily. Both stood on either side of the door. Emily mouthed 'ready' and Kyla nodded. Both stuck out a fist and pounded on the door, resuming their positions. The door opened, a grumbling noise was heard. Definitely Carlos.

"Eeeeee! Carlos!" squealed Emily, turning her corner before jumping onto the shorter boy. He fell over backwards, Emily still stuck onto his figure. Kyla stepped from the shadows and watched calmly. After the sudden compulsion of who they were settled down, all fell calm.

"So, what're you guys doing out here?" Carlos asked, leaning against the apartment door. They glanced at each other and simply explained it from Emily's perspective. Although he was a bit skeptical, Carlos finally decided the answer was good enough and apologized for having to go early. "I have to get ready. We record in an hour. I'll see you girls later. Dinner later?"

"It's o~on!" Emily growled playfully, snapping her wrist like a cat. Both laughed as he disappeared into the room and they made their way down the hall. "Man, I forgot how short he was..." she mused, her head tilting back. Kyla nodded silently. She'd been awful quiet, and Emily had noticed. She decided to let it slide. "I remember the day they left..."

While Emily went off into her own thoughts, Kyla had her head elsewhere. She wanted to crawl into a hole. Yes, she was happy, but she didn't think she'd have the strength to call them again.

~Flashback! :D~

Kyla had left her house. She'd been out with Emily, who was just starting to model, when she realized her phone was back at home. She sighed. She should've brought it, just in case. She was used to no phone calls, but it she still prayed for the phone call, text message, voicemail from her friends. Six months with nothing. Emily approached from the dressing room, smiling. Kyla smiled her usual smile and both walked out to the car, speeding home, Emily telling tales of how her experience was. The raven-haired girl never muttered a word, but nodded and would say "mmm" or "mmhm" every now and again.

They pulled into the driveway and Kyla hurried into the house. She ran straight for her bedroom and yanked her phone off the table. Fourteen missed calls, five voicemails, 37 text messages, and three pic messages. Her eyes widened as she ignored the missed calls and called her voicemail, making her way to the kitchen. She pulled out a can of soda as the voicemail started playing.

"Ky~y!" came the familiar voice. She splurred her soda across the room, her hand going over her mouth. It couldn't be! She grabbed a napkin and began to clean up the mess she had made. "Kyyyy, it's meeeee, Kendallllll! I tried calling your house, but your dad said you weren't there, so I figured you'd answer your phone. Ooookay, well, happy birthday, Ky! I love you, sister!"

She could feel tears sting at the corners of her eyes, but she saved the message and opened the next voicemail. "Oh Kyla Marie Sanchez, did you really think you could avoid me this easily?" she gulped at Carlos' voice, but shook her head, tossing the napkin into the trash. "I wanted to tell you that we've been having fun, but we miss you and Emily more. Happy birthday, chicka-loo! Call back soon!" She swallowed the lump in her throat, her finger saving the message and let it play the next.

"Kyla?" Logan's voice was calm, yet held a slight bit of nervousness. She pushed herself from the floor and walked down the hallway, her eyes glued straight ahead. The tears had yet to fall. She turned into her room and flopped on the bed. "Kyla, we're getting worried. I guess you turned your phone off today, huh? Sorry. We've just been busy and haven't gotten around to calling yet. Well then...guess I'll be going." Logan was always seemingly worried around her. She knew why, but always ignored it. "Happy birthday, Kyle. Hope it's going well for you."

Her finger grazed the buttons as she sat up against the headboard as the last voicemail started. "Hey Maria," she felt her breathing stop at the voice. Never had that happened. She bit into her lower lip. "It's James, obviously." She put a hand over her heart, trying to calm the surge of anxiousness going through her bloodstream. "I know we haven't been calling lately, but I wanted to let you know...GUYS, I'M RECORDING A VOICEMAIL, GET OUT!" She loosened her grip on her lip, seeing as a small bit of blood had begun making it's way down her face. "Sorry. Anyway, I'll make this short. Call me back, Kyle. I miss you. We all do. We all love you, too. So, happy birthday. Bye."

"One last voicemail..." she said quietly, letting the next one play. All it was was a rhythm. That's when she heard it: six voices, singing. She could tell you who each voice belonged to. Mrs. Knight, Katie Knight, Kendall, Carlos, James, Logan, all of them. As soon as the singing ceased, she realized that she had begun crying. Tears had fallen into her lap, drenching her legs with their warmth. She hurried through the text messages, all from friends and family (and the boys), saying happy birthday, asking questions, pointless things. She opened the first picture. It was the stuffed animal she'd won when she was in first grade, three years before her mother's passing. It had been a caramel-brown bear that she dubbed "Rusty". It had buttons for eyes, and she'd accidentally ripped one eye out. She'd given it to Kendall, remembering his dad had left. That's how their friendship had started. In front of the bear was a small notecard, and, in big, bold letters, read: 'Remember Rusty? He's helping me wish you a happy birthday!' Tears cascaded down her pale face and neck.

The next picture was a piece of paper, big red letters written on top, a sticker to the side, and a blocked letter question: "Your friends just gave you 12 sparkle markers, now you have 19! How many sparkle markers did you have before your friends gave you 12?" She cleared her throat, blocking the sob from escaping. That's how she'd befriended Logan and James. They'd sat at the same table in 2nd grade. She'd gotten frustrated at that very math problems, as had James. Both pestered Logan for minutes at recess, seeing as he was the top of 2nd grade class. Finally, he caved and helped them both. They'd all three aced the paper and celebrated happily.

The last picture was of a swingset with a child's bike parked next to it. She instantly caught on, bringing her sweater sleeve up to wipe away the tears. There was no text. But that was where she'd met Carlos. He'd been riding his bike past the playground while she was swinging. He had wrecked on his bike a few meters away. She had hurried over, only being a third grader, and was worried silly. He looked up at her and smiled toothily. He'd already lost his two front teeth, adding onto the childish face. She'd taken him back to her house to patch up the scrape on his knee. At the time, he hadn't been wearing a helmet, but luckily, nothing happened. She scolded him, her hands on her hips. He finally gave up and went home to get a helmet.

She couldn't breathe. Tears had begun to fall rapidly, leaving her body wet. She dialed the number to their room in the hotel and, sure enough, sat on the phone for the rest of the night, talking with each of the boys.

~End Flashback~

She didn't want to think about the day before they left. Brought too much pain. The hours flew by and they agreed to go and visit their friends. Kyla pulled on her shoes as they walked down the hallway.

~F.F, because I'm a lazy cow D~

All six teenagers were sprawled out on the sand of a beach, staring up at the sky. Kendall and Emily had decided to walk off, Carlos had made Logan mad, and they had started a chase up and down the shoreline, leaving Kyla and James alone. Said boy was watching stars, pointing them out. Every time his hand would go up, Kyla made a mental note of the bandana on his wrist. She knew he wasn't depressed, but even before he left, he had a bandana addiction, and any of the teens could tell you that. She closed her eyes and put her hands behind her head.

"So, why'd you come to Hollywood?" asked James, breaking their silence.

"I told you, because Emily's job." She snapped. The conversation died. Kyla sat up. She could feel tears stinging at her eyes again and she tried to tell herself not to cry. She knew she was a bigger peson than crying. "I...I've missed you...all of you."

"Maria."

"Mmm?"

"What's on your mind?"

James, who was always joking and immature, had suddenly gone to sincere and caring. She burrowed further into her sweater, biting her lip. "The...the last time we saw each other... You had no regret. You seemed perfectly fine with leaving Minnesota. Do you remember what you last told me, James?"

"No."

"You last told me that you were growing up. I asked you what you were talking about..."

James shook his head, trying to erase the memories.

"You said that you were growing up again. I watched you...watched you drink your soda and bowl. You came back and sat down. I stared at you, waiting for more. You told me that since you were growing up and leaving, you might forget me. You might forget me and find someone who was perfect; blonde, skinny, tanned. I told you you were stupid. You smiled at me. You said not to forget you, but you told me if you forgot me, it'd be for the best if I forgot you, too..." His face cringed at the memory. Tears raced down her face. "I-I never did, James David Diamond. I'd always go back to the photo album my mom had put together of us. I still updated it up until the day you guys left. I...there's no way, I would ever forget you. I can't...forget you. It's like loosing a body part...you had it once, and it may be gone, but you still remember it.

"I'm done talking. I would like to thank you though, for your voicemail. It meant the world to me..." She slowly stood up, dusting herself up. "I love you, James. I always will, no matter what type of bimbo you fall in love with, marry, have kids with... I...will always...love you..." She choked out. She turned and left the beach, her eyes hazed over.