A/N AU, OOC Logan and Kendall. Before Big Time Rush existed. In high school, around March grade 11. Idk I like to start all my stories in March for some reason haha. I also use a lot of commas so bear with me :/ Otherwise, enjoy! Feedback greatly appreciated. xoxo, JT

I don't own Big Time Rush or any of the characters associated.

Beep! Beep! Kendall's phone beeped and vibrated in his pocket signalling a new text message. Upon inspection, the text was from an unknown number, yet it somehow looked familiar.

Hey, Kendall. I hope this is still your number. I know we haven't really kept in touch but I really need your help right now. Can you call me?

- Logan

Inhaling sharply, Kendall re-read the message over again a few times, making sure it wasn't somebody playing a trick on him. Without his knowledge, a small smile showed itself on his face, as the thought of Logan still having his number made his nerves jump a little. As he stared at the message, the short flashback that had been played over and over in his head until he finally blocked it out resurfaced. Once again, he could see Logan walking away from him, head down, his right hand tightly balled into a fist at his side, never looking back while all he could do was stand there and watch his best friend storm away from him. Shaking his head out of the daze, he pondered his options quickly, then before he could change his mind, punched the numbers into his phone and bit his lip anxiously while waiting for his call to get through.

The moment it connected, Kendall was greeted by a nervous "Hello?"

He inhaled deeply, and replied with fake confidence, "Hey, Logan. You called?"

"Yeah." A relieved exhale from the other end of the line. "Hey Kendall, listen, I think this conversation would be better in person, so can I come see you or something? I mean, it's not that urgent... it's okay if you're busy, or if you don't really want to see me, but I mean if you are, I totally underst-"

"Yeah, now is fine," Kendall blurted, cutting Logan off. He had reacted eagerly, maybe a little too eagerly.

Caught off guard by Kendall's enthusiasm, Logan replied with a nervous "I guess I'll see you, then."

Before stepping out of his car, Logan could feel a tingling in his hands and the bottoms of his feet. He swallowed his nerves, took a sip of water, then took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He blew on his thumb, because he remembered reading somewhere that it helped to soothe the nerves, but it didn't seem to work. He looked at himself in the rearview mirror from a couple angles, fixing a tuft of hair standing up funny on the back of his head. He took another set of deep breaths and wiped the sweat forming on his hands off onto the driver's seat, taking another swig of water. Finally, after checking himself out in the mirror one last time, he picked up his water bottle and stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him.

The walk up the Kendall's front door was one of the most nerve wracking things Logan had ever experienced. The two boys had been distancing themselves for just over three years, and an effect of that was their friendship slowly deteriorating until they were merely acquaintances, making this meeting awkward in so many ways. But right now, Kendall was the only person that would understand what Logan was going through, and any help would be better than none.

Logan used to go to Kendall for many of his problems, as he was the only one who would listen and give helpful advice that made Logan wonder why he hadn't thought of that. He nodded along, he showed interest in his eyes, he would sympathize and rationalize.

It made Logan feel terrible for what he had done to Kendall three years ago. For the first couple months after, he would lie in bed until 3:00 in the morning, running the scenario over and over again in his head, thinking about what he did and what he should have done until his mind went numb and he continued on with his life with a practiced smile and faked optimism. But now, he found himself standing right outside of the door he hadn't stood in front of in years, his right hand balled up, in position and ready to knock. He inhaled deeply, trying to tie down the rest of his nerves, then closed his eyes as he slammed his fist into the white door before he could think of reasons to stop.