Too Little Too Late

By: Riley

Summary - Gustavo was tired of being seen as the bad guy, as nothing more than wanting things to go his way. He was tired of everything. [For BTRlover1122)

Trigger warning: suicide.


Gustavo Rocque stared out the window of Rocque Records.

It wasn't stare that held any emotion in it, he wasn't angry at anyone; he wasn't feeling anything at all. He was just empty and tired of everything. His arms were crossed over his chest as he continued to stare down at the people that walked along the streets below him. The happy people. Everyone around him was always so happy and he as the one that had to put his entire life's work on the line just for…for what really? For a brief moment of satisfaction before he had to prove himself all over again?

Gustavo leaned forward, practically mashing his face against the window. He caught a glimpse of his reflection; his miserable body posture, hands clutching his elbows, chest rising and falling in rhythmic breaths, mouth twitching at the corners, but no noise coming from him. No way to prove that he really was there, just the quiet breathing and his own thoughts running through his mind.

With a sigh, Gustavo turned and walked to his desk, his eyes moving to the clock that rested on the corner, by his compute. It was his fifth clock that week, something always angered him to the point that he had taken it out on the poor, defenseless electronic. It was seven AM. He was never particularly at Rocque Records that early, he made it a point not to have to get up early for anyone. But, of course, Griffin had made it his life mission to grind on his nerves and that included having a meeting early in the morning that typically served no purpose.

Resting his elbows on his desk, Gustavo ran his fingers over his eyes. His eyes that were typically hidden behind sunglasses were puffy and heavy, eyelids falling with the weight of the world. His goatee had grown out fuller than he had ever had it, unkempt. Not that it would matter now. Nothing mattered now.

Why practice hygiene when it was about to be over?

He knew that they were in the meeting waiting for him, Kelly, Griffin, the dogs, their Momager, the marketing team, everyone. The future of Big Time Rush was going to be talked about at that meeting but Gustavo didn't see the point. Even if Big Time Rush didn't continue with Rocque Records, even if they didn't continue with music, they were always going to be successful. He—begrudgingly—knew that sine the very first moment he worked with them. He saw the drive and the potential after their first performance for Griffin when he had wanted to see if a band could be put together in three days.

They had proved Griffin wrong.

But he, Gustavo, had proved Griffin right.

He was a failure that couldn't do anything right. No matter what he decided to help the boys along in their career, he was met with resistance and back talk from them. Then Kelly and Mrs. Knight had on more than one occasion—which had become more frequent as the time went on—sided with the boys. Didn't they all see that he was just trying to help them? That he was trying to protect them? Sure he yelled and ranted and raved and screamed, but that was the only way he knew how to do things, to get results. He promised to get them to the top and he would, but they didn't seem to have a lot of faith in him. Why else would everything he suggest get met with them ruining everything to have it go their way instead?

They didn't understand how hard Gustavo worked and that it wasn't just about them it was about him too. Everyone seemed to forget that.

It was so funny, how he had so many people in the next room waiting to hear what he had to say, and yet he felt so totally and completely alone. They were waiting for him to bring the news. But for what really? To understand he financial status of the company. His company, his pride, his whole life. It was going under and he couldn't admit it to anyone.

With that thought, Gustavo put a hand to his chest, it hurt, and everything hurt.

Everyone around him was happy and he was hurting.

He wasn't going to hurt anymore.

Gustavo pulled out his desk drawer and took the bottle of sleeping pills with shaking hands. His sleep pattern had been thrown out of whack since his start in the music industry. The constant late nights and working until the early hours of the morning had been what did him in. He had succumbed to taking sleeping pills so that he could just get a tiny bit of sleep and deal with the day. Yes, the side effect was that he became cranky and irritable. Did anyone think to question it?

No.

That was just Gustavo Rocque and it all he was going to be.

Gustavo opened the bottle and dumped a handful of the soft, white pills into his hand. He stared at it for a long moment, eyes closed, and lips trembling, then tilted his head back and pushed them into his mouth. He forced himself to swallow away the thick, bitter taste that reached his tongue and coated the back of his throat. Once it was all down he sat back in his chair, staring at the wall across from him. Finally, his eyes lowered and he grabbed the framed photo that was sitting on his desk.

And it was that photo, the one of him, Kelly Mrs. Knight, Katie, and his dogs, that he was found holding to his chest when someone went to go find him.

A little too late.


A/N for BTRlover1122: I'm so sorry this one-shot took so long to get put up. I had most of it written out when I had finished my BTR story Memories and Melodies and my Suite Life story Save Me from Myself and took a break from FFN. And now that it's the end of the semester/exams and graduation being less than two weeks way, I became swamped. It wasn't until your review on my sister's story that I remembered to do it so here you go.

A/N: She requested a suicide awareness one-shot and I thought what would be different as opposed to having it be one of the boys? Have it be Gustavo. If you ask me, he's the one that is probably the most likely to do it for the reasons I stated in my story.

I hope you all liked it.

Cheers,

-Riles