What's up, everybody! I'm back with Chapter Two.

Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. But while I was writing this, I just kind of noticed that a lot of what I'm making Carlos think is the way I feel sometimes. So please keep in mind that it might be a little bit harder to write about this because the subjects could get a little bit touchy. Hopefully I'll be able to get these next chapters out sooner.

Disclaimer- I DO NOT OWN BIG TIME RUSH!

So, here it is! Enjoy!

Chapter Two

Running

I am such a wimp.

Carlos winced as the blazing sun shined in his eyes when he watched the airplane pass through the sky. Yes, he watched the airplane; the one that he was too scared to get on. He tried to shield his face from the sun's blinding rays only to realize that it was near impossible. As a result, he simply through his hoody up and ducked his head low, drawing his knees to his chest and glaring at nothing in particular.

At first, Carlos was going to run away and that was the end of it. He had it all worked out in his during his nice, long walk back to the PalmWoods; he was going to go back to the apartment, pack his things, buy a plane ticket back to Minnesota and be in the first taxi to the airport before anyone was the wiser. It was the perfect plan, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. So now he was sitting alone, at the PalmWoods Pool, in his favorite chair. Wow, I am a wimp!

He didn't know why he didn't just go home; clearly Gustavo didn't want or need him there. He had said so himself- quite harshly at that. He couldn't believe that Gustavo had said that he should have left him in Minnesota! That had to be the most awful thing that had ever been said to him; and he'd said his share of terrible things.

Carlos tried his hardest to reassure himself; Griffin was the boss of Gustavo, so if he really thought that Carlos wasn't good enough, he would have dumped him from the get-go. Plus, Gustavo stuck with him when his head was full of Hollywood Fever, and when he messed up the Break Up song! And let's not forget, Gustavo worked so hard at making Carlos a better singer and dancer; why would he waste all that time and energy on someone he was just going to dump, anyway?

But somehow, the words of Gustavo- the mean, hurtful words of Gustavo- managed to break through his own words of comfort. They were berating him, tearing him down until he was nothing. The voice inside his head was busy thinking to himself just what am I doing here? Why can't I do anything right? Why am I not good enough? The haunting little voices inside his head continued to rip apart his confidence; the wall he'd built in his heart that kept him the strong, bounce back kid was beginning to diminish brick by brick.

"Hey, Carlos!" Carlos looked up and couldn't help but smile. There, staring back at him and blocking the sun was his favorite method actress, Camille. But at the moment, Camille didn't look like Camille. Instead, she was dressed as witch. Her big, pointy hat and wavy black robe made her look very convincing.

"Wait- don't tell me- are you doing another witch movie like Witches of Rodeo Drive?"

Camille chuckled. "No, silly! I just got back from a costume party!"

Carlos nodded in understanding, but frowned in concern. "Camille, it's- like- eighty- something degrees out here! Aren't you hot?"

Camille's eyebrows furrowed and she tugged feebly on her robe. "Yeah, this costume is really uncomfortable." She agreed, scrunching her face in discomfort. "Just a sec!" She said with a smile, then she dropped down out of sight. Before Carlos could blink, she comically popped back up in her normal attire. "There! That's better!" Carlos squinted in confusion, but decided not to question it. He could never figure out how people did that. He, himself, couldn't figure it out and he did it most of the time!

As Camille began to move, Carlos sat up just in time for her to pull the seat beside him closer. Her eyes never left his as she sat down to face him. "So, where are the guys?"

Carlos resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She's probably wondering where Logan was! "At Rocque Records."

Camille arched an eyebrow. "Wait- Why are you here and they're there?"

"Camille-?"

"Did something happen at the studio?"

Carlos sighed; as much as he would have loved to just let loose and tell Camille about everything that was bothering him, he really didn't feel like being pressed into talking. He placed both his hands on his knees and heaved himself onto his feet. He stared down at Camille with the most serious he could muster. "Look, Camille, I appreciate that you want to help, but I don't really want to talk about this right now, ok?"

With that, he started back towards the lobby, hoping that Camille would take no for an answer. But with luck he'd been having lately, he wasn't really surprised when Camille took hold of his arm.

"Oh, no you don't!" she remarked. Although she sounded serious, he could still see the hint of a smirk playing on her face. Then before he could even think about getting away, she was dragging him to the nearest, empty cabana so that they could have at least a little bit of privacy. After she sat Carlos down in one of the seats, she zipped up the tent and turned to face him. "You're crazy if you think I'm going to leave you alone. Not this upset."

Carlos crossed his arms. "I'm not upset," he muttered through a petulant pout.

Camille simply rolled her eyes. "Right; because people who aren't upset pout." He looked up with a much more serious face, watching Camille with anticipation. His face showed a mixture of fear and curiosity, watching as if he were a child whose mother was about to give him cough syrup. Carlos thought that at that moment he he would have rather had cough syrup than observe what he was about to observe.

He had absolutely no idea what she had in mind; Camille was the most unpredictable method actress he'd ever met in his life! She could interrogate him into talking. One minute she could be nice and sweet like the good cop; offering him candy and hot chocolate and hugs and friendly advice. Then in the blink of an eye, she could turn into the bad cop, slamming things and screaming in his face, demanding answers!

Carlos anxiously stared back and forth. That did Katie tell him to do when people suspected he did something? Right, deny everything! Deny, deny, deny!

Carlos winced when Camille sat down beside him. His heart was already beating a million miles a minute and he could practically feel her eyes piercing through his skull. He panicked. She's going to figure me out. She's going to judge me and think I'm a cry baby! I'm not going to let that happen! And before he could stop his lips from moving he was screaming, "I didn't do it! I deny everything!" out of force of habit.

Camille pursed her lips with confusion. "Didn't do what?"

"Uhhhh..." That plan was not well thought through; he'd managed to throw her off, yes, but now she thought he was crazy!

"Carlos, I already know you didn't do anything wrong!" Camille said, giving him a friendly pat to his back. "I just wanted to know what happened while you were at Rocque Records."

"Oh." Carlos muttered, feeling foolish.

"Now, talk to me!"

For once in his life, Carlos was at a complete loss of words. He had no idea what he was going to say. What if he told her everything and she didn't believe him? What if she judged him? Or misunderstood what he was saying and thought that he was just being ungrateful? What if she just overlooked his problems?

He shook up the apprehension that was currently building up in his chest. Camille would never do that to anyone! Camille would never judge him! But still, there was a part of his body that he just couldn't convince. He decided that he was going to try another approach.

"What do you do if you want to do something that you're not good at? But everyone else is good at it except for you?" Carlos knew it was a stupid idea; but if he would have came right out and asked if he was good enough to be in Big Time Rush, she would have tried to coddle him and told him that he was perfect just to spare his feelings.

Camille arched an eyebrow. "I don't understand."

Carlos tried to backpedal. "Well, say Guitar Dude one day decided that he wanted to be a... A Male Model? Or Budda Bob wanted to be a stunt man? What would you say?"

Camille scoffed, as if she had just pictured Guitar Dude trying to be a male model. "I'd tell him he's out of his mind!" She chuckled.

Carlos was taken back to say the least. That was the last thing he was expecting Camille to say. "Y-You mean you wouldn't tell him that he could try? I mean, what if I-?" Carlos paused at Camille's confused face. "I-I mean he worked real hard at it, could he do it?"

"Not if he wasn't good at it. There are something's that not even practice will make you better at. There are some things that no matter how hard you try, you will never be good at. Take someone who can't sing; no matter how hard you train, you will never teach that person to sing."

"But what about Jenny Tinkler? She was an awful singer when we were in school together..."

"Ok, bad example. My point is, Guitar Dude should just stick to the things he's good at. Does that help?"

In retrospect, that was really bad advice; but Carlos didn't know that at the time. Carlos' mind was racing a million miles a minute. He didn't know what to believe anymore. People had told him all his life that he wasn't a singer. Or a good dancer. Or anything for that matter. Had Gustavo been right all along? Was he really not meant to be in Big Time Rush? Was he really holding the band back? Carlos wasn't sure anymore; but what he did know was that Camille's advice didn't make him feel better.

He looked up upon realizing that he had been lost in his own world again. "Yeah," he cleared when his voice cracked with emotion. He tried again. "Yeah, thanks Camille." He offered her a friendly smile.

"No problem." she said, feeling quite proud of herself. "Anything else you need help with?"

"No," He mumbled with a humorless laugh that Camille didn't seem to catch. "I just have a lot to think about, you know?"

Camille smiled, patting his knee reassuringly. "Are you sure you're ok here by yourself?" Carlos nodded. "Good; I just need to get back to my apartment before Logan gets back." Camille said, jumping to his feet.

"Later," Carlos mumbled and then he was alone.

Alone with the dark and his thoughts...

The first thing Carlos thought of was Gustavo.

He thought about everything that had happened to them since the day they got to LA. New friends, music videos, concerts, fans, a tour! It was all so much! The memories of it all brought a smile to his face. But then his mind traveled back to what Gustavo said and the frown returned. All the mean, hurtful things that Gustavo said clashed together with Camille's "advice" perfectly. Each word echoed in his mind. He could only imagine where Big Time Rush would be if he weren't there to hold them back.

Carlos sighed sadly as he heaved himself back to his feet. He knew exactly what he had to do; he had better kick himself out of the band before they could.

With a heavy heart, he shuffled back to the apartment. He didn't even bother to acknowledge anyone who tried to talk to him, offered him high-fives, or even waved to him in the hallway. He simply got in the elevator without a word to anyone, too depressed to even wallow in his own self pity. When he looked around the apartment and was relieved that no one was there. Mama Knight had taken Katie out for the day and wouldn't be back until later. If she'd have been there, she would have hounded him on walking out of the studio and he would have probably been grounded for the rest of the day.

He moved to his and James' combined room, dragging his feet as he pushed the door open. After flopping down onto his bed, he grabbed his cell phone and turned it on. He looked at it and saw that there were twenty missed calls; five from James, five from Logan, and five from Kendall. He'd even got a text message from Kelly. He got nothing from Gustavo; no surprise there.

Carlos pursed his lips, punching in the number then holding it to his ear. After two rings there was a click.

"Hello?"

A tiny smile spread across his face. "Hi, Dad!"

"Hey, buddy! Is everything ok?"

"Y-Yeah Dad, everything's... fine." Carlos lied. He could practically see his father's disapproving look. He sighed again. "No, Dad, everything's not fine... um..." He trailed off, unable to find the words. "Papi, can I come home?"

"Oh, um." the man seemed taken back. "Of course, bud. How long do you plan on staying?"

"No Papi," Carlos sighed. He must of have worded it wrong. "I want to come home. Like home, home. To stay."

"Oh, buddy..."

"I'm not good enough to be here in Big Time Rush, Dad. Gustavo thinks that I'm worthless, a joke. He thinks he should have left me back in Minnesota! Papi, please don't make me stay here! Please!" By the end of his rant, he was in tears, gripping the phone in a death grip in one hand and his helmet in the other.

There was a long pause, where he assumed his father was thinking it over. Then he spoke, and he was very surprised to here his answer. "Ok, son. If this is what you want, you can come home."

Carlos smiled, a tear ran down his face again. "Thanks Dad, I love you."

"Love you too, buddy."

He hung up the phone, and hopped out of his bed and opened the closet door. He quickly pulled out the suitcase that he had buried in the back of the closet and pulled it out. Another tear slid down his face that he didn't even bother to wipe off and it dropped into the empty suitcase.

I'm going home...

Well, there you have it. What did you guys think of it? Did you hate it? Like it? LOve it! Just let me know! Leave a review! Or PM me works too!

Well, that's it for now, until next time, remember:

Peace, Love and Happiness!

-BrittSmiles4BTR!