Summary: Gustavo's estranged Italian niece, Ariana Vitarelli, comes to L.A. to work for her uncle. Music's in her blood, but what will happen when she meets Gustavo's latest project: Big Time Rush? Will a close friendship or a complete disaster follow?

Warnings: Rated K+ at the moment, could possibly get to T in the future to be safe.

Pairings/Characters: NO SLASH. Original characters Ariana Vitarelli with Kendall, Logan, Carlos, and James and appearances from others.

Author's Note: My first BRT fan fic! Carlos might be a little out of character here, but this first chapter is just a prologue to get the story started. It will get better, I promise! Please review!

Other Details:

-If you want to listen to Ari's song, go here: youtube. com/watch?v=kAcACGvHGO0 ((without space between youtube. and com)) ((credit to Jacqui/muso90))

-A general idea of what Ari looks like: tinypic. com/r/2hehl49/6 ((without space between tinypic. and com))

Brown hair with natural reddish and blonde highlights, tall, thin, pale, hazel eyes that can look more green or amber in certain lights. You'll learn more about her personality as the chapters go on, but she's stubborn, outspoken, bluntly honest, and sarcastic, but loves to have fun and is a pretty random and entertaining person. She's emotionally strong and hardworking, and is very loyal and supportive to those she loves.

Read, Rate, Review! :D

Ari packed the last of her boxes and hauled them to the moving van. She couldn't believe this was actually happening. 'Couldn't believe' as in she was so incredibly angry that her mother had even entertained the idea of moving to Los Angeles, let alone actually following through with it. Well, they weren't technically moving. Their cozy cabin would be there when they came back. If they came back. It was just a "pro-longed visit", according to her mom.

Her mother was Alice Rocque-Vitarelli, sister to the famous (more like infamous in her household) Gustavo Rocque. Her estranged uncle had shown up a weekend or two ago, sending condolences for her dad, who had passed a few months ago. He hadn't even made the funeral and hadn't even bothered to send a card, but was there now. After twenty years, he was just now caring? Uncle G., as Ari called him, hadn't even bothered visiting since she was seven. But suddenly he was there, standing on the doorstep of their home on the lake in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Crazy.

It just happened to be the weekend her show was premiering, too. Ari thought about the production lovingly. It was her brain child, so to speak, and it had consumed her life for five straight months, October to now. A musical that she had written and co-directed for her high school, composing all the music and helping out with everything in between. Being the Gustavo Rocque, her uncle had to come see a performance. And he was so impressed (well, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. His exact words were 'not bad') that had made 'the offer'. The offer she had declined, multiple times. Ari had said no, she had insisted, but yet here she was. Stupid parents, over-riding her decision.

Her uncle had offered her a job at his studio, Rocque Records., writing music and assisting his new boy band, Big Time Run, or something stupid like that. It was one of those hit and miss groups, and with her uncle, it was usually a miss. Singing cheesy pop music and love songs was not something she was interested in. Ari had been adamant about her choice; NO WAY! But of course, her mother was so happy to hear from her brother that she had said of course they would stop their life and move across the country. No big deal!

After somewhat of a fight, she had given in to her mom's wishes. That weekend with Gustavo was the closest thing she'd seen her mom to happy since her dad died. She did want to get in the music business, after all. But this certainly wasn't the way she wanted to do it. Ari wished to be completely separate from her uncle, but now her name was attached to Rocque Records and stupid techno beats and a boy band. But, what was done was done. She was moving away from everything she knew and loved, and it was final.

The girl plopped into her seat in the moving van, calling for the family dog, Skip, to sit next to her. She and her mother were off. Her father had passed away, drowned in a boating accident, another reason they were moving. Her mom wanted a new start, and thought her daughter should have some male role model in her life. Yeah right. Like Gustavo would be anywhere near the man her father was. Ari had obviously been upset and had taken the loss hard, but she hated being weak. She had to be strong, for her mom's sake.

The two drove for days, stopping only to eat and sleep. After ages in the van, they arrived in sunny L.A.

As much as she didn't want to be there, it was hard not to be a little excited. It was February, and she was off wearing shorts and a t-shirt, where as back in Michigan they'd have three feet of snow and be bundled up with sweaters, even indoors. Another good thing was that they wouldn't be staying with her uncle, Ari and her mom would be at a hotel. Her uncle had gotten them an apartment, 3J to be precise, at the Palm Woods. They'd be going there after a visit to Rocque Records. Speaking of the studio, driving through Hollywood was like a dream. The biggest city she'd seen is Marquette… and well, enough said. They arrived at the fancy building, and she was given free reign to explore. Looking at all the recording equipment and instruments, Ari couldn't help but think that maybe things wouldn't be quite so bad.

She found an empty booth with a piano, and was in her element. She was classically trained, you know. Even if she lived in the middle of nowhere, USA, she had Rocque in her blood. Ari slid onto the bench and started playing a piece she had begun composing after her dad, Leo, died. It was titled L'Acqua, which meant The Water in Italian, her father's native language. She had to be strong for her mom, but when she was playing, she could just let it all out.

Carlos quickly ran back down the hallway of Rocque Records. The guys were outside waiting for him, annoyed that they had to stall getting back to the Palm Woods after a long day of work, but he had left his helmet inside. Yeah, the one thing Carlos Garcia never forgets was still sitting in the recording studio. Truthfully, he felt a little lost without it. Finding the correct door, he headed in a found what he was looking for. Grabbing the helmet, he headed back down the corridor. But as he walked past a room, a sound caught his attention.

Backtracking, Carlos peered in through the open door. There was a girl sitting at a grand piano playing some strange but intriguing song that he did not recognize. Her pale hands looked like spiders crawling across the keys, that's the only way he could think of to describe it. He stood, slightly entranced by song and the person playing it. So entranced, in fact, that the helmet he had been holding slipped out of his hands and fell to the floor with a clatter. The melody ceased, and the girl turned around to face the noise. Carlos ran to the side and ducked as soon as he saw her swivel around, quickly taking his head gear with him. Little did the boy know that she had caught a glimpse of his tanned face and deep brown eyes, along with his hockey helmet.

Still crouched in the hall just outside the door, the singer breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the tones of the piano continue on. Carlos wasn't sure why he was hiding in the first place, it had just seemed like the right thing to do at the moment. He knew he should had left at that point, but he was curious about the song being played. It interested him, quite a bit actually. It was one of those things that you couldn't stop listening to and couldn't get out of your head, like those cereal jingles on TV. It had a different melody, something Carlos had never really heard before. It was a little dark sounding, and as mysterious as the girl playing it. He'd never seen her at the studio before.

He shook those thoughts out of his head, and as the final note ended, he quickly stood up and made his way outside like originally planned. Each of his three friends shot him one of those 'where-the-heck-were-you?' looks when he reached them in front of the main doors. It hadn't been more than a few minutes, but they acted as if it had been an hour. He didn't blame them, though, he himself was anxious to get back to their new home.

"We were about ready to leave without you, man," said James. "What took you so long?"

"Oh… just… got lost," Carlos lied quickly. Why he didn't tell them, he didn't really know.

The guys just laughed, it wouldn't be the first time the boy had gotten mixed around in the studio. The group piled into Mrs. Knight's car, and they headed back to the Palm Woods, planning to hit the pool once they got there. Some relaxing was just what they needed after all day with Gustavo. A short time later, the SUV pulled into the hotels parking lot, and everyone piled out. After heading up to apartment 2J to get changed, the boys went down to the pool area.

Walking through the lobby to get to the pool, Carlos looked over to the counter where Mr. Bitters was checking someone in. It was a girl, and when she glanced back, it was like déjà vu. She had the most familiar, warm hazel eyes. Eyes he had seen at Rocque Records just twenty minutes ago. They held eye contact for just a second, then he continued walking with his friends, though looking over his shoulder once or twice. Surely it couldn't be… her?

Carlos, Logan, Kendall, and James swam for an hour or two and relaxed by the pool side. The thought of the mystery girl stayed in the back of one of Big Time Rush's members, however. Carlos' friends knew something was up. He was still fun-loving and goofy as ever; busting out singing the Spice Girls and rough-housing in the water as usual. But something seemed to be bothering him, or else he was just thinking something over. It was different for the boy, who usually didn't have a care in the world. But, no one asked, and he didn't tell.

After their time by the pool, the guys headed back to their apartment and did their usual night-time regimens. Logan started reading one of his medical books, James combed his hair and browsed through a teen celebrity magazine, Kendall watched clips of a Minnesota hockey match on his phone, and Carlos went down the swirly-slide exactly eleven and a half times. One by one, they began heading to bed, glad that they had a day off tomorrow. They planned to go to the pool again; it was there favorite part of staying at the hotel.

As Carlos began drifting off to sleep, the melody he had heard earlier in the day rang in his ears; it had been stuck in his head all day. Or was it really his imagination? Straining his ears, he thought he actually heard someone playing what sounded like the same song. Putting his ear against the wall, he was almost positive somebody in the room over, 3J, was playing a keyboard.

"You guys hear that?" he whispered to his friends.

"Go to sleep, Carlos," Kendall told him. "It's probably just a radio or something."

It took the boy a long time to fall asleep, though. It was all too much of a coincidence. Maybe he was crazy.