A/N. I know, I know. It's been a very long time since I updated. I'm trying to work through some things and I think they're getting easier. I have been reminded how much I need writing as an escape though, so maybe that will work to my advantage with fan fiction. You can skip ahead to the actual chapter if you want, but first I need to get something out of the way.
Something has been going around the Big Time Rush fan fiction archives in the past week or so. Something that truly touched my heart and inspired me, not just to write, but to be a better person. I already posted a story called, "Dare to Believe" about it. For those of you who didn't read it, it was dedicated to FootballandBTR and my aunt as well as anyone else who has suffered from cancer or witnessed a loved one battling this cruel disease.
Now, I'm not going to go into detail or name any names, but odds are, you know who you are. And guys? I am appalled, ashamed, and disgusted by what had been going on. What right do you think you have to make the accusations you have been making? Do you personally know the people involved? I highly doubt it's true. You have no idea what they are going through right now and for you to accuse them of lying about something like this. . . it's incredibly wrong. I'm ashamed to be a part of this fandom right now, I really am. You took a beautiful opportunity to spread awareness about cancer and you tore it down with your mean and spiteful words.
Even if this wasn't true, it brought so many good things out of it. It was for a good cause. My aunt, as I've already mentioned, is going through her second battle of cancer, and I can't tell you how much it encouraged me to see so many writers step up in support of cancer victims. I get that writing a story about cancer isn't going to make them better, I get that. But it still means so much to have others reach out with their writing talents and let people know that they aren't alone.
And then you're reporting some of these stories or informational posts. Guys, after years of non story posts with people saying to go vote on their poll or OC contests, all of which went unreported, you're going to report something that is bringing awareness to cancer? Why? Why would you do something like that? This project started out with love and you have brought nothing but hate into it. I am so disappointed.
So, please. . . please stop this. If you don't believe what's going on or if you're insulted or offended, then please just don't say anything at all. Because constructive criticism is all fine and good, but there has been nothing but hate and criticism meant to hurt. You're going about this the wrong way. As cliché as it sounds, why can't we all just stick together and support one another? All we need is love, why is that so hard to understand? Please, stop the hate, guys. Please.
That's all I can say for now. If you have a problem, you can talk to me about it through personal messaging, but please do not review this anonymously with even more hate. I have no respect for people who hide behind an anonymous identity to get their point across. It's saying that you don't really believe in what you're saying because you don't want to fight for your belief. Don't get me wrong, the last thing I want to do with any of you is fight. But I would be willing to discuss. If you're still reading this, thank you so much for all of your patience. All I can say is, thank before you speak, and if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.
I don't own anything.
A loud crash jolted Logan out of the darkness and he sat up, opening his eyes and blinking when he was assaulted by a bright light. Blinking in confusion, he glanced around and only became more confused. He was in his biology lab class. What was he doing here? The last thing he remembered was. . .
Logan's head ached. He rubbed at his temples and groaned quietly. It was incredibly hard to concentrate; everyone was talking loudly, Sam Peterson was picking up his pile of textbooks that he had dropped, and now the teacher, Mrs. Birch, had walked in and was trying to talk above her students. Another glance around the room showed Logan that no one had even noticed him.
Had he just dreamed everything? Logan had never fallen asleep in class, but he preferred it much more than being beaten half to death and dumped in an empty sewage drain. He shivered a little and shook his head. "Wait until the guys hear about this," he muttered to himself.
"All right, people, settle down!" Mrs. Birch said loudly. "It's time to get started! I assume you all have the required materials for today?"
She began listing them off and Logan looked down at his desk to make sure. Microscope, sharpened tools, dead frog. . . Logan pulled bent to pick up his backpack so he could retrieve his pencil and paper so he could take notes. "Mrs. Birch," he called out. "My lab partner, Jack, isn't here yet."
But she didn't answer him. She acted like she hadn't even heard him. Frowning, Logan opened his mouth to try again, only to be interrupted by the classroom door opening again. It was Jack. "I thought you weren't going to make it," he said with a small grin. "Everything okay?"
Jack stared right past him though. He frowned and then turned to the front of the room. "Mrs. Birch, Logan isn't here right now. Should I wait for him?"
"Jack-" Logan started to say.
"Oh, that's strange, Logan is usually the first one here and halfway through the experiment by the time I get in." Mrs. Birch frowned and walked over to Logan and Jack's lab desk. "I hope everything's all right, but I suppose we'll find out some time this week. He might be sick. The flu is going around, you know."
Logan could only stare at his teacher and classmates. Had no one really noticed that he was standing right in the middle of the room. "Hey!" he said, louder than he wanted to. No one even flinched at the sound of his voice. "Jack? Jack, can you hear me? Mrs. Birch?"
Nothing. A chill swept over Logan. No one knew he was there. They couldn't see him and they couldn't hear him either. His chest started to feel tight and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths. "Think, Logan, think!" he said aloud since he apparently wouldn't be distracting anyone from their work.
He picked up his heavy backpack and held it high in the air before letting it fall with a crash. Nothing. Panicking, Logan shoved the microscope off the table and watched the expensive piece of equipment break into tiny pieces. He then looked over at Jack only to find the other boy peering through the lens of the very same microscope he had just broken.
Logan staggered out of the classroom, forgetting about his books. The hallways were completely deserted. Classes were all in session. It was silly, but Logan had suddenly never felt so alone in his entire life. He stumbled over nothing and fell to the floor in his hands and knees, shaking all over. Climbing back up to his feet, Logan leaned against the lockers while he tried rather pathetically to get his bearings.
Kendall. He had to get to Kendall. Kendall would be able to help him. Kendall and Carlos and James. What classes were they in? His mind raced as he tried to remember what had always been a sort of instinct for him. He knew his friends' schedules better than they knew them themselves. Usually. When he was panicking like this, it was almost impossible to think at all.
Kendall had. . . English, didn't he? Logan didn't know for sure, but it was better to start somewhere than just stay pacing around the halls in disorganized panic. The halls were empty and he immediately took off sprinting in the directing of Kendall's English class, surprised that he could remember the location of that room when his mind was in such a daze.
He didn't see anyone on his way to Kendall. Part of him was relieved, because he didn't think he could take a single interruption. And yet, part of Logan was also wishing he could see someone and that they could see him. He needed an explanation of what was going on. If the guys couldn't help him, he didn't think anyone could. Logan was doing everything he possibly could to avoid thinking about what might happen if his best friends couldn't help him.
How could this be happening? And what was it that was happening? Logan was the type of person to look toward logic for answers, but this time he couldn't see any logic. There was no theory or explanation or. . . or anything. It terrified him.
"Please, please, please." Logan chanted as he reached his destination. He fell against the door and shoved it open so forcefully that it slammed into the wall inside the classroom, creating a deafening crash that should have startled the whole class.
No one flinched. Logan shut his eyes so tightly that he saw fuzzy spots dancing around the blackness. He opened them again and then glanced around, searching frantically for Kendall. He had to be here. He had to. "Kendall?" he tried to call out. It came out in a frightened and choked whisper, so he tried again. "Kendall?" Louder this time, but the result was the same. No one heard him. And even worse, Kendall wasn't there.
"Excuse me," Logan tried approaching the teacher, he couldn't remember her name, hoping against hope that she could hear him. "Ma'am?"
Again, there was nothing. She stood up from her desk, looking straight through Logan. She spoke to her students, but Logan didn't hear a word she was saying. He turned around and walked out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him just in case. When no one came out to yell at him, he slid down against the wall and rested his head on his knees and started to cry.
Nothing was making sense. For some reason, no one was aware of him. At all. They didn't see him and they didn't hear him no matter what he tried. Kendall wasn't where he was supposed to be and Logan was now too afraid to look for James and Carlos. He didn't know what he would do if he couldn't find them.
Part of Logan wondered if he was overreacting. How long had it been since he woke up in biology class? It couldn't have been much more than ten minutes. Maybe he was deep in a dream and having trouble waking up. He couldn't lose it now. He had to think and he had to act.
But what could he think and what could he do? Logan lifted his head and took several huge breaths, letting them out in long sighs. "Calm down," he whispered to himself, brushing furiously at his eyes. "Crying definitely isn't going to help anything. You have to think!"
Think. Okay. Think. His cell phone! Logan sat up against the wall and reached for his pocket, inwardly screaming at himself for his stupidity. Of course! His cell phone, was it really that hard? He could call home and have everything be explained. If home didn't work he would call one of the guys or his mother and even Katie. A phone call would fix everything.
If. . . if he had his phone with him. Groaning, Logan let his head fall back against the wall with a thud. "Where is it?" he hissed in a whisper. He always had his cell phone with him and it was almost always fully charged. His dream. . . or whatever it had been, his phone hadn't been charged, but. . . that meant it had to be a dream, right?
A bell rang interrupting his scattered thoughts. Logan glanced up as the classroom doors opened and a parade of students stormed out into the halls, rushing to their lockers or the next class. Briefly, he entertained the idea of sticking out his foot and tripping someone. Maybe that would get their attention. But when someone practically tripped over him all on their own and didn't appear to notice, he gave up on that idea.
"I'm going home," he muttered. There was nothing else he felt he could do. Logan stood up and glanced around one last time. He saw plenty of familiar faces, but no one saw him. He didn't even see anyone he really wanted to see. He wanted Kendall or Carlos or James, or better yet, all of them.
Logan stepped outside into the sunlight, blinking a little. His head was still throbbing painfully and the bright light certainly didn't help. Looking around the big parking lot, his heart fell a little when he didn't even his friends' cars. Granted, it was a big parking lot and there was no way he could see every car in one glance. That didn't make it easier though.
It was only when he got out of the parking lot that Logan realized he would have to be walking home. It was a long walk home, but maybe it would give him some time to calm down and think. Collect his thoughts. . .
Yeah right. Maybe if someone he saw while he was walking gave him a passing glance, but not even the neighbor's three Rottweilers. Barked when he walked by their house. Instead of calming down, Logan began to feel even worse. His head hurt so badly that it felt like it was blinding him and by the time he did reach his house, he could hardly walk.
Logan started to walk down the driveway when something caught his eyes. The sight of the police car sitting by the curb outside his own house really did make his legs collapse right out from under him. He fell to his knees knees shaking all over. The pounding in his temple reached such a level that it was almost as if he could hear someone slamming a hammer over and over again in his brain. His chest felt tight with fear and it was all he could do to get back up on his feet.
Logan didn't remember walking up the porch steps and opening the front door. He didn't remember walking in his house. All he could suddenly focus on was the three uniformed police officers sitting in his living room, talking with his family.
Katie was curled up on the couch shaking with small sobs. She looked tiny and fragile and Logan took a step toward her, his hand held out to put on her shoulder. But his mother got to her first, pulling her into her arms. Logan could see that she was trying hard to not cry as well, but he could also just as easily see that it was a losing battle.
Kendall was standing over the police officers, looking taller than usual, but somehow smaller at the same time. It might have been the uncharacteristic slump in his shoulders and the tortured look in his eyes. His blond hair was tangled and tousled and Logan saw why as he ran hands through it once again as he nailed one of the officers with his stare. Carlos' father. Logan swallowed hard, feeling sick to his stomach. He sat down in the middle of the floor and put his head between his legs, simply listening. He could no longer watch.
"What do you mean you don't even know where his car is?" Kendall was demanding. "We told you where he went and everything. There's nothing else to tell you!" The anger in his voice scared Logan and he looked up just in time to see Kendall ticking off things with his fingers. "He went up to Minnesota University to meet with an adviser and talk about their programs. He should have been home at 10:00 or 11:00 last night. He never called, he either has his phone off or the battery died. He didn't-" and suddenly Kendall's voice cut itself off and the anger melted away into nothing but fear. "He never came home last night." he whispered.
"Kendall, we know." Mr. Garcia- or rather, Officer Garcia, said gently. "I told you, we had men going back and forth between the University and here. They didn't turn up a single thing."
"Well, what about you?" Kendall pointed out. "You and Luke? Did you two look?"
Luke Adams, Officer Garcia's right-hand man since the boys had been little. When Mr. Garcia wasn't available, they had always always been able to depend on him. But he looked as helpless as everyone else in the living room. "We were the first ones to look," he said softly. "We plan to go out again as soon as we finish up here too."
"It's 8:30 in the morning," Kendall spoke haltingly. "Logan should have been home ten hours ago. You're the police, Logan is your son's best friend. Luke, you've known him almost as long as I have. You guys have to-" Kendall's voice broke. "You have to find him. Please."
"Kendall," Logan pleaded. "Kendall, can you hear me?"
Kendall was crying now. Logan wanted to look away. He didn't know how he could keep his eyes on his best friend, his brother, the person he had idolized more than anyone else in the world, when he was completely broken like he was now.
"He's my brother," Kendall sobbed as he sat down on the floor, inches from Logan. "You have to find him, please! The more time that passes. . ." he trailed off and shook his head violently.
"Sweetie," their mother murmured tearfully. She and Katie moved from the couch to sit with Kendall and together, the family embraced each other, trying to give and receive comfort. "Everything will be okay, baby. Logan is going to be okay. We'll get him with us where he belongs."
"We'll find him, Kendall." Luke said suddenly, breaking the first rule of a police officer. Never make promises you can't keep. He wasn't the type to do such a thing and it gave Logan help. It anyone could help them all, Luke and Carlos' father could.
He looked over at his family again, thinking of how much they meant to him and all they had given to him. They had given him a family, not just when they adopted him when he was fourteen, but before when his mother was dead and his father was buried in his work. And now they were all broken and in tears. Over him. And there was absolutely nothing he could do to help them.
Reaching out slowly, Logan placed his hand on Kendall's shaking shoulder. His eyes filled with tears when his brother didn't even flinch. He was invisible to him as well. He could only move on and go to James or Carlos. James lived closer, so Logan would go there first. And after that- no, he wasn't going to think of his next move after James. He could only do one step at a time.
Logan stood up and leaned down close to his family and whispered in Kendall's ears. "Please find me."
A/N. Oh, and this story is based very slightly off of the movie, "Invisible". I wanted to wait before I told anyone so I didn't ruin everything, but. . . yeah. Anyway, hopefully you liked it. I'm going to try to start updating at a more regular pace. In the meantime, thank you so much for your patience that I certainly do not deserve.
