A/N:

Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush, Phoenix, or anything of the sort.

Yes this is my first story, and I'm not going to bother asking to be nice in the reviews. Just lay it all on me! Honesty is key!

This story is inspired by miSSmeliSS1324124's Is It a Good Thing. The club name and the Kogan story line is hers! Just a heads up, so if they seem similar, it's because they are.

This story is also told in the POV of a character I made up named Jessie Santiago.

"Rate it even if you hate it." –Michael Buckley. Or rather, review it.

I walked into "The Sun", the local gay club near my apartment in The Palmwoods, determined to forget everything that happened in the past week. Doing five auditions and three photo shoots in five days was exhausting; I needed the pounding music and the nameless person dancing against me to take away every though in my mind. I didn't expect to see anyone from the apartments here, seeing as it was a 21 and older club, and there were new faces that came in from everywhere in LA, but there was rarely anyone underage that came to party it up. Everyone knew this wasn't a place to be taken seriously, just a spot where people went to forget for a little while.

I gave a smile at the bouncer, and was let in immediately. My fake ID was safe and untouched in its usual place: my bra. I hated carrying a bag into the club, so everything I needed, cash, credit card, ID, and my phone were safely in my bra, like every time I came to the club. And after around five times of partying it up in The Sun, I was considered a regular.

I walked to the bar, pulled out a five and ordered a strawberry margarita and two extra tequila shots. I downed the two shots quickly, then immediately put the girly drink to my mouth, waiting for the burning to ease some. I was a girly girl at heart, though most never suspected me to be. I was after all, a great actress, it was the reason my parents wanted me to move to LA in the first place. They sent me off to LA with 10,000 dollars and a promise to pay for my rent wherever I found an apartment. I wasn't happy at home, and neither were they. My parents constantly fought about everything, and I could barely handle it. When they found out I used my high school theatre program as an escape, coming home late from rehearsal every night, they realized how much their fighting was influencing me. So they shipped me off so they can attempt to fix their broken marriage.

I moved to Los Angeles almost a year ago, and from day one, I became friends with Hollywood's newest pop sensations: Big Time Rush. I had at least one thing in common with the boys. James and I were both of Jewish descent (I was half Jewish, half Filipino); Carlos and I were both daring and adrenaline junkies; Logan and I were both smart as a whip, though no one ever thought I was; and Kendall and I were both fun-loving leaders, willing to go through anything with/for my friends. I was introduced to them by my now best friend, Camille. We both were passionate about acting, and we clicked instantly. No one knew I moved out here alone, everyone just figured I was another stargazer, hoping to make it big in LA, like everyone else.

I missed my parents, and it was times like this I needed to escape from my own escape. I nodded a thanks to Larry, the bartender and probably the only straight guy in the place, someone I grew to know more than most of the clubgoers. I had a weird way of sensing people's real feelings and thoughts, a sort-of empathy, if you will (without all of the exciting mystical aspects of the word). I knew if someone was fighting with their wife (which was often the case with Larry), or if their mind was going 100 miles an hour. I was there to help, in any way possible. Whether it be to dance their worries away with them, or take it further and have mindless, emotionless sex until they forgot everything, at least for a little while.

I'm not some whore, mind you, that goes around having sex with people to make them feel better. No, I wanted to help them, sex (which happened more often than not) or no sex, to forget all of the feelings going through my body as well. To be honest, I've only slept with three people because of the whole empath thing. Carlos was a great friend to mess around with every now and then, but I would never include him in those three because he was always happy. It was very very rare that he felt anything aside from pure bliss.

I looked out onto the dance floor, sipping my margarita, when I saw a boy, a familiar boy. I blinked at the tall brunette as he was being led away from the dance floor towards the bathroom by a 20-something year old man, their eyes filled with hunger and lust. However, I caught something else in the shorter boy's eyes. The 20-something year old couldn't possibly see the slight pain and suffering in his chocolate brown eyes, but I'm sure he didn't care…

I blinked again, watching the two get farther and farther away when-

"… Logan?" I thought, starting to follow the two, slightly stumbling because of the effects of the margarita. I was soon only a few feet away, watching until they disappeared into the dirty bathroom in the back of the club. I stood back, and decided to wait until they were done with their (no doubt) dirty deeds. Whenever there was a slight pause in the music, moans and blasphemous words emitted from the small room, until finally the door swung open and the 20- something year old walked out with Logan trailing behind him.

I stepped forward, and he froze. I smiled, "Hey Logie. What brings you here? Other than Mr. Mysterious over there?"

He stammers, "I don't know what you're talking about…"

I raised my eyebrow knowingly before, "It's all good. I don't need to know. I can keep a secret, take a hint." I turned around and began to walk toward the dance floor. I wiggled my fingers goodbye behind me and entered the bustling, brain pounding music.

I took a girl's hand, and led her to the dance floor, I believed in solely having fun that night with whoever was available. It just so happened that a girl was in my path on the way to the dance floor. Because The Sun was a gay club, many girls went there to get away from the sleazy guys that would hit on them in straight clubs, and because most of them were drunk, they didn't care who they were dancing with.

It had been 10 minutes or so of bodies smashing together, moving with the music coursing through our bodies, when I felt someone tap my shoulder. I turned around, away from the nameless girl and saw Logan. He mouthed, "Let's go outside," and motioned towards the club's entrance. I followed him out, leaving grind-girl hurt, before she herself found someone else to dance with.

We finally weaved our way through the crown and out onto the street. The cold air felt good against my sweat-drenched skin. We stood there for a moment in silence, letting our bodies cool down from the high temperature of the club we just came out of.

Logan said, "Jessie, listen-"

"It's fine. You got your secrets, problems, whatever. I understand, dude." I replied.

"Look it's just…" another moment passed. "I just want to feel wanted…" he said finally.

I sighed, and looked into his pain-ridden eyes, " Don't we all babe?" he sighed too, and his shoulders slumped. He was on the verge of tears.

"Whoa babe, what's wrong? Talk to me. I know how to keep a secret," I crooned, pulling him into a hug. He leaned into my shoulder, tears streaming down faster and faster. I called a cab, ready to take him home. I didn't expect him to cry, but I guess it was just one of those nights. Luckily, I knew how to help.

I called a cab, and soon we were on our way back to The Palmwoods. No words were spoken during the ride home, no sounds were heard except for the sobs coming from Logan, and me thanking the driver when we finally reached the building.

I led him to my room, and sat him down on the purple couch that faced the TV. I walked to the kitchen and knelt down to the drawers at the bottom, to the left of the sink and pulled one out. I reached into the back and pulled out a box labeled, Remedy. I lifted the lid to the old shoe box and took out the mug, hot cocoa mix, and a Ziploc bag of mini-candy.

I straightened my legs and poured some water into the mug, then stuck it into the microwave. I cut the hot cocoa packet open as the microwave counted backwards for three minutes. I opened one of the cupboards above the sink and grabbed a bag of mini- marshmallows. The microwave beeped as I grabbed a cloth to handle the hot mug. I had done this so many times before, I could've been blind and still been able to make the perfect cup of hot cocoa. I pulled a spoon out from the utensil drawer and began mixing the powder into the water. The whole process, including the dash of milk and handful of marshmallows I added at the end all came naturally, without thinking, things I had done so many times for myself.

I walked back to the couch and handed Logan the mug. He was silent now, tears falling quietly from his eyes. "Here. Medicine, of sorts" I said, as he took the mug and the bag of candy, before I made my way to the speakers underneath my TV. I pulled out my iPod from its place on the small coffee table and hooked it up to the auxiliary cord. I pressed shuffle on the Remedy playlist and let the music fill the apartment.

The soothing voice of Thomas Mars came floating out of the speakers and into our ears. "If it's not with you, there is nothing that makes me want to settle down…"

Silence except for the music and our breathing. Then, "I'm in love with someone who doesn't love me back," from Logan.

I blinked twice, not expecting him to provide any explanation about his outburst. I was glad he wanted to tell me though. I really wanted to help him, with whatever he was going through. Someone as smart as him knew better than to keep everything bottled up inside, and I was glad to hear he was ready to tell me something, anything at all.

I thought first of what I should say then, "That sucks…" I huffed. He nodded, and sighed. It was someone I knew. I could feel it in the tension in the air, the knowing.

"It's Kendall." – Bingo- he confessed finally. I nodded and took the information in. My mind went through every moment I saw Kendall and Logan together, they were so close. It was weird not seeing them together. How could I have not seen that? Thinking about it now, I always sensed something from Kendall too. He had a special way of paying attention to Logan, that no one else got… Of all people… Anyway. I turned my attention back to Logan, who had been staring at the ceiling.

"Does he know?" I wondered aloud.

He shook his head then said, "No. It would ruin our friendship. He doesn't feel the same way about me, I just know it. He's straight. And I'm gay. It would never work out."

I looked at him and replied, "So now what? You're just going to keep finding guys who are only a cock to you and vice versa? Just to feel wanted for five minutes? Logan, you're a smart boy, can't you see the way Kendall looks at you? And plus, talking to him about it won't hurt… Okay. That's a lie. I know very well that it may hurt, but what else can you do? If he says no, that's when you should become a heartless, emotionless being. You haven't even given yourself a chance. Or better yet, move on, and find someone else who cares about you as much as you do to them. Don't be like me, void of any emotion and incapable of feeling anything besides from raw sexual contact. I know it might hurt, but it's better to feel something than nothing at all." He began to protest but I interjected," I know I can't make you do anything, but there's some food for thought. And know I'll always be here for you, no matter what happens, my love."

We were both silent for the longest time, song after song playing through the apartment. At least five songs must've passed before I said, "You can stay the night here if you want. I can share my bed. Trust me, I don't have cooties, and I won't make any moves. I understand that you're gay." He nods and chuckles and follows me through the apartment, to my bedroom. I stripped down to my skivvies and began to crawl into bed, and soon Logan was too. We lied there, not moving, staring at the ceiling, not speaking until,

"Thank you." Logan muttered, before the both of us fell into a deep sleep.