A/N: Here it is, all! The sequel to my story, Walk On. I hope you guys enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I own the plot and the adorable little Ryan Durant.
Gustavo was simply losing it, Kendall could swear, because in accordance to previous events, things went badly. The first time, though, Griffin had issued the epic change. That time, it was Griffin who had simply lost his focus on the four-part harmony. Now, it was Gustavo himself. What a day, what a day, Kendall kept repeating within himself. Glancing at Logan, he noticed his confused demeanor shot into disbelief, then at Carlos, whose face looked almost exciting, then at James, bearing an emotion between dizzy from the impact against Freight Train and angry with Gustavo's decision to wreck the tradition the four boys had going.
This changed Kendall's intention for the band completely; four friends from small-town, Sherwood, Minnesota, making it big time and moving to Los Angeles and have their hand at fame. They were long past halfway there; that is, until Gustavo decided that, for the hell of it, add in a fifth member.
A scrawny, thin, Caucasian fifth member, to add to the other three already in the band. But it wasn't the boy's ethnicity that had Kendall dumbfounded about what it was that was going through Gustavo's mind. It was his age. It was the fact that there was a fifth member at all. There shouldn't have been the little, midnight-black-haired, pre-pubescent, teenage fifth member romping his way through the band's territory, metaphorically vandalizing everything their band was constituted from.
Had Wayne Wayne not been proof that too many people in one musical unit was far greater than necessary? The bag would burst if they filled it with any more pretty boys than what should have been. Wasn't there a maximum occupancy for this kind of thing? And besides—
He was only thirteen for God's sake!
Had high-pitched, lengthy-headed, short-stacked teenagers been the fad lately? Wasn't Justin Bieber enough for the world? Apparently not to Kendall. He left the thoughts to ruminate in his mind as Gustavo broke the news and ordered them to sleep that night. Kelly motioned for them to give the young boy, the new "baby brother" of the band, some serious consideration before deeming him unworthy.
So now, here were the four, the next afternoon, relaxing poolside, awaiting the arrival of their new "baby brother." James seemed to give it good thought, remembering Kelly's words about heightening the middle school student demographic. Logan seemed to have brushed it off as the time progressed, remembering that he would always be the smartest. Carlos seemed to have been excited, from fact number one: he loved meeting new people, and from fact number two: he wouldn't be the shortest of the band anymore.
Los Angeles's beautiful beaches were about to be visited by a teenager who probably lived here all his life. He could have been a Wayne Wayne duplicate—a testy bad boy of sorts that would be the band's eternal downfall. He could have been a Jennifers-turned divo with enough vengeance for fame in one eye to turn all women and men he looked in the eye of to stone. He could have been a hockey-hating Mississipian with a Southern twang to give Big Time Rush the country-like sound they never wanted. Kendall felt bad about hating on country music, soon after finishing his thought.
It was like throwing a cat into water, adding the "baby brother" to the four of them. Something about him, Kendall knew he wouldn't belong. And even though he may not have judged character too well in the past, Kendall was, admittedly, afraid of meeting the new boy. Was he even a threat to the band's well being?
Within moments, a buzz came from James's cell phone on the side table nearest him. A text message from Gustavo blinked onscreen, apparently, the background information on their new baby brother. James swiped the phone from the low table and snarled at the text message with reluctance.
"That's about our new member, yeah?" Logan peeked, interested in the boy they now had to look after.
"Yeah," James's voice trailed as he scrolled down the text message, reading up on their new friend. He began reading slowly aloud, "Ryan Jacob Durant. Goes by Ryan, only thirteen years old. Good voice, hyper-active, studies well. Musically gifted." When James said musically gifted, he sounded like he may as well have asked a bag of sewage to dance, disgusted in tone.
Taking the cell phone, Logan began reading off the rest, "Manfield, Iowa; hometown, incredible sense of rhythm and balance. Enjoys music," James looked up at the sound of music, "Bungee jumping," Carlos then perked up, "The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien is his favorite book," Logan's voice softened to learn that Ryan liked to read, "and plays hockey." Logan's tone of voice implied that maybe baby brother wasn't as bad as Kendall initially had believed.
"So, what do you think it is that this kid is learning about us?" Carlos figured with an incredible point made. "I mean, is he as scared as we are?"
"He's from Iowa, and it says he's never left," Logan read, "it says here that he is 'grateful for the opportunity presented to him by Mr. Rocque.' We can assume he's a kiss-up."
"People kiss up because they're scared," Carlos said, another very good point arising from the shadows. Where the hell was he coming up with these?
"When does it say he arrives?" Kendall left the question blatantly unanswered.
"Today. Gustavo said they were on Sunset," said Logan.
"They're closing in quickly," Kendall muttered in a super-spy-like tone. "The Palm Woods is under attack, operatives, we've got to defend the castle before all else fails."
"Calm down, he's a thirteen-year-old teenager, not the Trojan War Horse." Logan snickered at Kendall's James Bond melodrama.
After twelve minutes of heated impatience, the four boys sat both eagerly and nervously, Kendall, quaking on the front lines. He was the leader of this group, and he was either admitting in a fine, trained new warrior, or a lying, double-agent. James was blending his emotions, like he was doing much of lately, both angry at Gustavo for thinking he could barge in on a heavy-set theme they were going off of for the band, and also quite excited to be able to look after another boy. Logan sat happily, ready to bombard the boy with questions from The Hobbit; an ice-breaker waiting to happen. Carlos pretended not to care, reading Helmet magazine like a typical day.
Finally, Bitters approached the boys with an ice cream cone in his hands, the melted parts slithering down his hand like arms on an octopus. What Bitters was up to now, the boys didn't plan on finding out. Bitters, though, finally spoke up through ice creamed mouth, "Gustavo and Kelly are waiting up front with some kid. Said it was urgent."
The four bounded up almost instantly. Kendall lead, "well, guys. We're about to meet either our total demise or our complete success, who now lies in the hands of Gustavo Rocque. This boy is going to change things. Are you guys ready for that?"
"He's a boy," Logan repeated, "not the Manhattan Project. Calm down, Kendall."
"Bring it on."
Ryan Durant looked as wondered and dazed as the four were when they first arrived at the Palm Woods, some several months ago. He gaped his mouth at the skyscrapers, half of which were merely palm trees, and he stared at the cars passing, a quarter of which being limosuines, containing the honor of celebrities, another quarter being expensive cars from the Barbie-dream-Lamborghini set, the other quarter being buses were people from the ruddy walks of cement came to converge and get someplace, the other quarter-and-a-half being a combination of either, and the last quarter-and-a-half being cars he actually knew the name of. He stared out at the beach like he had never seen one before—and he probably hadn't. Sweat showered his face, the typical homeostasis occurring in his body after being brushed into the forever-going-on Los Angeles heatwave without even a minute to prepare.
He held a quite thick rolling luggage piece tightly in his hands as Gustavo's two assistance managers lugged a good four boxes of Iowa valuables into the Palm Woods, and up the elevator. Kendall didn't even want to fathom where Ryan had planned on staying yet, but all he knew was he was sure as hell not going to part his room three ways, having already shared a room with Carlos.
Ryan stood behind Gustavo, still unaware that the presence of his new bandmates was slowly approaching. Surveying the target, Kendall saw the young boy watch the cloudless sky sprawl out above him, as if had never seen so much sky blue in his entire life. He had somewhat short black hair to contrast the fair skin and blue eyes, his hair posing almost like Logan's, except Ryan's looked almost messy—but in that way that worked. You could tell he merely had to brush it back in the morning to get it to obey, what with all its volume. Great hair, James was sold.
Ryan donned a pair of flip-flops, looking almost newly bought, and some slightly slim jeans, but not too tight, a dark denim blue, with an orange tee shirt. Fisted in one hand was the handle to his roller luggage, but in the other was a book, a quite thick paperback book, that he remained propped open clean down the middle with his thumb, as he continued curiously surveying the new world he was set in, as if he was calculating how many wonders he had to dissect before dying. A hyper nerd, Logan was sold.
Though with a book in his hand, he donned a skateboarding tee shirt with a motivational saying to go for it scrawled across in a font that looked like handwriting. And as one of the assistants returned to retrieve a thick duffel bag, Carlos couldn't help but see a small helmet stick out, not unlike the one he had resting on his bed in 2J. On it was some masking tape, and the quick note that said, In Case of Emergencies. Helmet-wearing nutjob, Carlos was sold.
And, finally, also sticking out of the final piece of luggage, the hockey bag, he could see a dented up hockey stick peeking its way through the end, the same colors as Kendall's first hockey stick. Kendall had to resist being sold, for the sake of the group, but for now. Hockey jock, Kendall was sold.
"Ryan," Kelly motioned for the youthful thirteen-year-old to step forward and meet his new older brothers, "meet Kendall, James, Carlos, and Logan. Your new bandmates."
Ryan looked at them with a bashful smile. You could tell he wasn't accustomed to meeting new people just yet, but Kendall decided to give him a break, considering he had just met Gustavo Rocque. He feigned a smile, and waved at the boy, saying, "you'll like it here."
"I hope so," he laughed quietly, as he met the gazes of each of his new, older counterparts. James had tons of questions to ask him about haircare, Logan of the book he was reading, Carlos of the things he's jumped off of in the past, and Kendall. Well, Kendall had questions for the boy, alright, but none of them really pertained to hockey.
"Come inside." James smiled, quickly tugging at the boy to enter. "Have we got questions for you."
Spending a day with Ryan ended up in him fitting in quite well, but Kendall was all the more suspicious and cautious of letting the boy into their wild faction. Why his friends felt so relaxed about such a drastic change, Kendall couldn't fathom, but they laughed at Ryan's Iowan humor, they talked of hockey and famous people, they tested his voice (to Kendall's remorse, he was good), and they pushed him playfully into the pool, where he popped back up, yelling, "I can't swim, I can't swim," only to have tricked James and Carlos into jumping in and getting just as soaked, and earning him a few good punches in the arm. A hilarious prankster, a pseudo-genius, a well-trained athlete, and a potentially gifted musician?
There was something too good about this boy, and the way that he clung to Logan instantly, and Logan willingly clung back, threw Kendall off immediately. Kendall couldn't determine whether it was the hormones from past events that forced him to be a bit taken in by Ryan's sudden closeness with the pale, genius boy they knew as Logan.
The night ended around the pit fire, where the boys were having another poolside jam-session, reminiscing on the days when they would take Logan's triplet brother and sister, Becca and Davie, camp out together, and sing songs under the moonlight. Never was there Ryan in the picture, but now here he was, singing along as if he's been there all this time.
And Kendall wasn't too enthusiastic. After closing a song they dedicated to Becca and Davie, the audience cheered, and the boys flooded Ryan with more questions.
"So, Rye, you're alone here in L.A.?" James queried, placing a nickname where nickname was due.
"Yes. My parents are sort of," Ryan took a sigh, and a small pause, "in a situation."
"What kind?" Carlos instantly retorted.
"I'd rather not say, but all I know is, I'm not a part of whatever it is they plan on doing with their lives anymore," Ryan's face went cloudy, but brightened sunny again before saying, "now I've got this beautiful place, and there's nothing I really have to worry about."
"Except Gustavo." James chuckled, noting how big a handful their boss was all in all.
"Hey, he's paying my rent," Ryan shrugged with a smirk, "I really can't disgrace the man."
"Trust me, antics are what he's used to, after producing us." Logan laughed with a nostalgic grin, probably looking back on the chaotic memories that caused the four boys so much happiness. He wondered how much more intense they would be with Ryan in the picture, the over-active boy who could fit into air vents with ease, jump off of things and land like a feline, and have enough energy to follow a well-organized plan through till the end. Logan stopped himself from thinking this way before he turned into Carlos, but with a good look at Ryan, Logan could tell that he would be a member just fine.
"He knows we mean well," Carlos reassured, "so when you see the four of us up to something, don't be afraid to jump in."
"I have a feeling I won't be too afraid when the time comes around." Ryan nodded firmly to the others. "I've never been the type to not jump."
A/N: Do you guys like Ryan? Review with your thoughts!