BEFORE I SAY ANYTHING…This story was inspired by a conversation I had with my PM Pal, a fellow author, here on Fanfiction, who shall remain nameless for the sake of her privacy, because I know she's sensitive about her deepest, darkest secret, and…yeah. So, this shouldn't be as long as my stories usually are. Happy you.

NO I DON'T OWN ANYTHING, WHY DO YOU ASK SUCH STUPID QUESTIONS…

Ehem…sorry. Onward—

Some people believe Los Angeles is a beautiful place to live—sure, believe what you want. In general, once could make any broad assumption that the weather, as in the constant sunshine, would make for an amiable location to reside, and these notions are the same that are regularly entertained by many, including Kendall, James, Logan, and Carlos.

Too bad it was storming.

Yes, t'is true, it was pitch black outside at five o' clock in the evening in the middle of summer, due to the extinguished rays of the sun, thanks to the nearly black clouds, and nothing outdoors was made visible, because of the seemingly perpetually pelting rain, flooding the streets to ankle length, and was complimented frequently with a clap of thunder, whilst it seemed like the whole entire earth was illuminated by a bolt of lightning.

So, as is implied, everyone, as well as whom we spotlight, Big Time Rush, were forced to remain in their abodes, restricted by all means of exiting under even the most extenuating circumstances, observing the ever expansion of the flood lurking beyond the streets.

So, as we further focus on the four boys, their administrative figure, and their younger female acquaintance, we see this—

"Carlos! Stop pacing!"

And there it was, Carlos, relentlessly walking back and forth, in the worst possible spot—in front of the TV; and to make this scenario worse, his friends' were growing sequentially angry at him, because of his continuous viewing restriction.

"Carlos, can you please get out of the way?" perhaps if frustrated demands had no effect, forced politeness would.

Stopping in his tracks, he stared at Kendall with furrowed eyes in correspondence. "But I'm bored!" he exclaimed, throwing his head back, and rejoining in his pacing-fit, which wouldn't seem to end until the storm ceased its wicked ways, which also, seemed to never end.

Kendall sighed in defeat, and stood up to forcefully pull Carlos out of his way, and potentially lock him in a closet, but the effort seemed in vain, because just as he should, there was no longer a reason to which for Carlos to retreat from his position in front of the TV screen—because the electricity went out.

A moment of bickering, and Mrs. Knight finally found a flashlight, perched on the coffee table adjacent to her seat.

"What just happened?" Carlos asked, assuming the intellect of an idiot with his inwardly idiotic questions.

"The lights went out, ya' ninny," Logan responded, taking advantage of the aiding illumination in Mrs. Knight's flashlight, to rise himself up from the couch, and examine the dysfunctional appliances in the kitchen. "That's it, it's all down. "

"Yay, no more TV!" Carlos spontaneously chanted, throwing himself onto the accessible spot on the couch, a newly found elated smile spread across his face. "So what do you want to do?"

"How are you so happy?" James ejaculated, in all his random compulsion. "Lack of light, means lack of reflection, and lack of reflection means not seeing this beautiful face—" he stopped to gesture his 'fire' action—"in the mirror! How can I deal with that?"

"You'll survive," Katie retorted, throwing herself over the couch, and landing gracefully in the seat next to Carlos. "What are we going to do? There's no electricity, and we obviously can't go outside."

"Let's play a game!" Carlos suggested. "Truth or dare!"

And assisting his remark, he leaped into the center of the floor, and peered at his friends with the most innocent smile, inviting them nonverbally to join him in his childish tactics. With a shrug, James sat reluctantly next to his friend, gesturing with him for the remaining residents to engage in their fun. And so, though with some notable hesitation, Kendall, Logan, Katie, and Mrs. Knight, formed a circle on the floor, and taking the flashlight from Mrs. Knight's possession, Carlos happily opened with his own diverse introduction.

Placing the flashlight beneath his chin, he smiled evilly, and started his speech—

"Rules, children," he said. "No hitting. End of discussion, I go first, circle goes from left to right, and here we go, have fun, I beseech you!"

"I can't believe you used 'beseech' properly in a sentence…"

"Shut up, Logan. Okay, Kendall—truth or dare?"

"Do I really have to—"

"Truth or dare!"

"Truth…"

Carlos threw himself back with a groan, allowing the flashlight to fall askew in his lap. Quickly re-gathering his conventional position, he released the aversion for his annoyance;

"You always take the safe way!"

"If I said 'dare', you'd ask me to bungee jump off Seattle's Space Needle."

"How did you know? "

"Stick to the game, Carlos."

"Right, okay, um…do you…love Jo?" Carlos questioned, if the most eager and conceited expression written across his face, leaning inward on his knee, as he contently awaited Kendall's response.

It was somewhat disquieting at Kendall's distraught expression, and his eye brows were furrowed, as though he were in deep thought; he clearly appeared as disturbed as ever, when everyone seemed to be just as willing to behold the answer as Carlos was.

"I…I don't know…"

Carlos slapped his forehead, and looked at Kendall with a once again, conspicuously irritated expression. "That's not answer! Do you love her, or not?"

"Nope, next question."

Everyone's face had filtered out in genuine disappointment, but, as they realized that they, as well as Kendall, knew the truth, and keeping that in mind, they continued;

"Logan's turn; go ahead, Logan," Carlos urged, gesturing dramatically to the circle-of-friends, attempting devotedly to cure Logan of his sour attitude.

With an exaggerated sigh, Logan reluctantly obeyed, and, with fallen eye-lids, peered shortly at the people before him, with an appearance of little or no eagerness for the game to continue. "Whatever. James," he finally said, "truth or…you know the rest."

"Dare. I'm living on the edge!"

With a passive eye-roll, Logan continued; "Okay, um…I dare you to…" and, as if Carlos's prayers have been answered, Logan's expression and back straightened up on that spontaneous note, and he glanced at James, with the most notably evil smirk on his face. "I dare you to prank call…"

-Everyone leaned in, to make as audible as possible, the supposedly evil plan of Logan's—

"Gustavo."

He finished with such simplicity, you might have believed he was joking, but with the serious, yet content, facial expression, he met nothing more or less than for James to obey his command. And when he did say it, everyone threw themselves back, allowing a corresponding "Ohhhh!" to pass from their windpipes.

"What? No! Prank call Gustavo? Do you want me to die?" James questioned, looking at Logan with an earnest expression that translated on his eyes, to 'never'.

"Only sometimes," Logan responded with a casual shrug of the shoulders.

"No way!" James stubbornly countered. "I am not doing it!"

"You got to do it," Carlos chimed in, "he dared you; don't hate the player, hate the game."

James, knowing he would only be hypocrite to label this statement untrue, sighed and stared disquietingly at the ceiling, running through his industrious mind, ways of excusing such a demand. "I don't have his phone number," he finally recalled, wearing on his lips a relieved smile, which humorously faded, when Carlos said as follows—

"I have it in my contacts—hurry, it's ringing!" Carlos said, shoving the gradually connecting phone into James's unwilling grasp.

Puckering his lips and finally coming to realize there was inevitably no reliable escape, he unnervingly raised the phone to his ear, and waited anxiously, his eyes furrowed and his palms sweaty.

"Hello?"

James's heart nearly skipped a beat, when Gustavo's evil voice rang through the other line. "Um…Hallo, there, mate!" he stammered, surpassing a smile at his own failed Australian accent.

"Who is this?"

"Um, yeah, this is Barney Springsteen calling on account of those baby Kangaroos you ordered to make an appearance in a concert with that phony-baloney band of yours, oh, what's it called, um…Fig Rhyme Mush, if mah memory serves me properly…"

All the while at James's remark, the entire group had their hands pressed to their mouths, in attempt to not break down in a tear-producing laughing-fit, and a few of the participants had tears rolling down their cheeks at the very moment; James himself seemed to have the hardest time in not bursting into a fully-blown-out LOL-drill.

"What?" Gustavo's irritant voice responded. "I didn't order any mango-moos, or whatever you call them!"

"Uh, yeah mate, our records, here, show that you ordered twenty-two cages of Kangaroos."

"Twenty-two cages?"

"Yes-sir-ee!"

"I did not order any Kangaroos! I don't even like Kangaroos!"

"Than why did you order so many?"

It was too much to bear, because if James continued, his identity would have been completely revealed from the piercing sound of his hysterical laughter; he therefore hung up the phone, and when he did, he, as well as everyone else, even the up-tight Mrs. Knight, howled and laughed outrageously.

"Okay…That was good!" Carlos finally chanted, swiping a tear, once the momentary chorus began to wrap up.

"Yes, I'll admit, it was funny," Mrs. Knight managed, as she finally started to sit up properly, and wiped her hair out of her eyes, "but never do it again."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay!" Carlos chanted, re-gathering himself completely, and repositioning the flashlight so that it might restore its function. "Now…Katie, you're next, go ahead."

This was, of course, a strike of nervousness for the sewing circle, acknowledging in all their past encounters that somewhere beneath that small, pre-teen-girl structure, laid a pit of dark evil. Granted, everyone nearly flinched when an evilly content smile suddenly repositioned on Katie's face, and her eyes shifted evilly from side to side…in all its evilness.

"Carlos…" she said, with a slow, monotone voice that made Carlos cringe in anxiety.

"What are you going to do?" the genuinely spooked Latino asked after a long pause, his eyes rapid, and his form rocking gradually from back and forth, as he impatiently awaited Katie's dare. "What are you going to do? Make me jump off the ledge? Launch a NASA rocket over the moon? Put my hand down the working garbage disposal?"

"Oh no, nothing like that," she responded, still in that deep, dark tone. "I dare you…"

Every person, one-by-one leaned closer, as the suspense began to role upon them.

"To reveal…"

"Reveal what? Just say it, already!"

"Okay, don't get your shorts in a bunch! I dare you to reveal your deepest… darkest… secret."

Conveniently, with that said, a bolt of lightning eliminated the room, and a clap of thunder sounded and echoed over miles of land, contributing to the dark, suspenseful feeling lurking through out the room.

"What?"

"Yep."

"But…" Carlos stammered, biting his nails softly, as he could practically hear the evil music sounding in his head. "I…I can't…"

"It's a dare, dude," James arrogantly cut in, abusing the advantage of allowing himself to counter Carlos's earlier contradicting remark.

"I know, but—"

"You have to."

Carlos finally relinquished his secretive ways and threw down his hands, to stare with jolting eyes at his friends, questioning as to why he even started the game in the first place. Oh, because the electricity went out…that's right. But frankly, he began to assess in his mind that even now more than ever, he would much rather be bored watching a hockey game, than revealing something humiliating he buried deep in the caves of his heart.

"Oh, okay!" Carlos deeply inhaled, and, once-overing his friends one last time, he squeezed his eyes shut, and proceeded—"You guys really want to know my deepest, darkest secret?"

"Yes."

"You really want to know?"

"Yes!"

"You really, really want to—"

"Yes!"

"Okay!"

And, removing all the air from his lungs, and whimpering like a kicked puppy at the dreadful situation, all stressed was relieved, (except from his own), when he finally blurted out—

"I don't know how to ride a bike!"

And the lights came back on.

Um…I wasn't actually sure how to end this…I didn't want to go on, but I will admit it's kind of abrupt…Anyhow, PLEASE REVIEW…Because I have recently posted just a few stories, and the general public literarily seems to REFUSE to tell me what they think of the story…I think I'm going to cry… But yeah, it's verging on 'stupidest fanfiction ever'. Oh, and I just want to say something…I read "The Three Musketeers" recently, and it was the worst book I've ever read in my entire life. Don't get offended if you're a die-hard Dumas fan; I just didn't like the book. The ending was stupid. Just had to get that out… Merry Christmas! XD