Guess what you guys? I missed the bus this morning, and I had no other transportation. I mean, if I'm gonna miss a day of school, I would want to be like, extremely sick or something...it just seems like a waste. I didn't feel like even going today, especially after last night, but I was gonna go anyway, but, I missed the bus...so I'm kind of upset.

Haha, sorry, just thought I'd put that out there. Anyways, this chapter is very, very special to me, so I hope you guys like it (:

After Camille's performance, everything was almost back to normal. Almost. Logan and Camille were still in that in-between stage, though they acted as if they were a couple again. They weren't on a "break" anymore, but there was still that one thing that was holding them back from really being together, and the reason they...went on the break in the first place. Camille had decided to wait until after the party to spill her guts to everyone. One of the reasons being that parties weren't exactly pleasant for her when all of her friends were around. She loved them, but sometimes they could be way too impulsive. Sometimes it worked in their favor, but other times it didn't, so she figured telling them in a more quiet place would be better for everyone, considering there was no telling what they would let slip out.

So that was why Kendall, James, Carlos, Logan and Jo were all huddled in Camille's bedroom in silence, their only light source being the small lamp on Camille's nightstand, making the mood in the room more tense than it already was. Kendall and Logan were on either sides of Camille, Jo perched on Kendall's lap while Camille's head settled into the crook of Logan's neck as he weaved his fingers through her dark locks, something he'd missed doing. James and Carlos weren't far away, as they sat directly in front of the four, looking anywhere but Camille. No one wanted to. She was going to tell them eventually, so they gave her some time to calm down, afraid of making her uncomfortable.

Logan, however, snuck a few worried glances and loving gazes at Camille every now and then. Her delicate features told him that she was in deep thought. He didn't know if she had forgotten that they were there or not, but he let her think, waiting patiently for her to speak. It wasn't awkward. No, not at all. It was a comfortable silence, though everyone in the room wanted to know the same thing.

James shifted from his position on the bed to a more comfortable one so that he was sitting straight up and stole a glance at Camille. That was his first mistake of the evening.

Logan hadn't spoken to James all day, so he didn't know what Logan's thoughts were as far as their friendship went, but he should've known better than to look at Camille in...that way. He wasn't even sure what that way was, but whatever it was, Logan wasn't too fond of it.

James stiffened when he felt Logan's eyes on him. As reserved as a guy Logan was, his looks could kill. You did not want that boy mad at you. You just didn't.

Logan continued to glare at James, whose eyes stayed glued on Camille. What was wrong with him? Hadn't he done enough?

Before Logan could open his mouth and give James a piece of his mind, Camille's soft voice broke the silence of the room.

"You guys?" she asked, her eyes searching the room and looking at each and every one of them.

Everyone instantly snapped their heads so that they were looking at Camille, giving her their undivided attention.

"Yeah, Cam?" Logan replied as Camille lifted her head from his shoulder so that she was looking at him directly in the eyes. She took a deep breath.

"Logan, after you came to see me earlier, I came to a conclusion. Either I keep being stubborn and not have you as my own, or I can put my trust in you. So that made my decision easy. Logan I realized that...that-"

Logan brushed a strand of hair out of her face, almost grinning when he noticed that her perfectly crimped hair was slowly going back into its original curls.

"You realized what?"

"I realized that I love you, and I need you. If there's anyone on this planet that I could trust with this, it's you," she said.

"And James..."

"What?" she asked.

"What?" Logan countered, eyes blown wide. He hadn't meant to say that out loud, and by the look on James' face, Logan knew he'd heard what he said.

Camille looked at him oddly for a moment, but continued. She took Logan's hands in hers. "You said it yourself, Logan. Our relationship won't go any further if we can't get past this, and it kills me knowing that we aren't...together."

Logan grinned and caressed her cheek as their group of friends looked from each other to Logan and Camille awkwardly, wondering if they even wanted them there at the moment.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, Camille," Jo said for the fifth time that day, grinning when Camille and Logan broke away from their little world they'd created long enough to acknowledge that she was there.

"Yes I do, Jo," Camille said.

"My mother was a singer," she started after a few brief moments. "She had the most beautiful voice I'd ever heard and our old home in Connecticut was always filled with music. She sang everywhere. At parties, weddings, bars, clubs...anywhere she could get exposure. She even did a Broadway show once. I always loved watching her sing and express herself on stage. Watching Broadway musicals is why I love acting so much. It's always been my first passion, but when I sang, I felt free, like I was...being myself, for once. I got a rush, almost...and it felt amazing."

The four boys of Big Time Rush grinned in understanding.

"So...why have you been keeping it a secret, if you love it so much?" Carlos asked.

Camille tensed up for a second. It happened so quickly that Logan almost didn't notice it, but he did. Logan gave Camille a look of sympathy before gathering her in his arms in such a way that her back was against his chest. He wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible.

Camille sighed and let her head rest against Logan's chest, feeling herself loosen up.

"Well, when I was twelve, a music producer saw my mother performing at a bar and told her that he might want to sign her to his label. You guys should've seen her face when she came home and told dad and I the news. I'd never seen her so...happy," Camille paused for a moment. "So anyways, that next afternoon, she invited...him over to our house for dinner. Personally, I thought the guy was a little sleazy, but even my dad warmed up to him. So over the next few weeks, dad and I barely got to see mom, because she was always recording and spending most of her time with...him." Camille swallowed. "My dad...he started to get suspicious. He was sure that they were having an affair. The way...he looked at her, how she'd sometimes sneak into the house late at night or early in the mornings. He was right. He didn't want to believe it, but one night, my mom came home and told me to go upstairs..."

Mrs. Roberts walked into the warm Connecticut household, slipping off her sunglasses and setting her new purse on one of the empty chairs in the living room. She was on her way to the kitchen when her husband appeared before her. She gasped in surprise.

"Where the hell have you been?" Mark Roberts demanded.

She avoided his eyes as she continued to the kitchen for a glass of juice. "I was recording with Jackson, like I have been every day," she replied, taking a sip from her glass, shrugging nonchalantly.

"For twelve hours?"

She didn't answer.

Mark sighed and rubbed his temples. He didn't like the new demeanor his wife had been putting on lately. He found it childish and extremely unattractive at most times, though he still loved her either way. He did a double take when he spotted something on the small chair in the living room. It seemed as though his wife knew exactly what he was thinking as her eyes went from the purse to him frantically. He walked over to the chair, picking it up slowly.

"Molly, what's this?" he asked, tearing his eyes away from the purse to look at his wife, who was now standing next to him.

She laughed lightly. "It's a purse, Mark."

He gave her a look. "I'm not stupid. This isn't just a bag. It's a Prada bag, Molly. You know we can't afford things like this. We're struggling enough as it is."

Molly sighed. "Lighten up. Jackson just gave me a little money for all the hard w-"

Mark paused. "Wait a minute...Jackson?"

She nodded.

"We have a daughter, Molly. Do you have any idea how much she misses you? You can't just stay out for as long as you want and spend all of your time with some guy you barely even know. Do you even know if he's legit?"

Suddenly, fury arises in her eyes. She was just about to speak until a gentle voice stopped her.

"Mom? Dad?" Molly and Mark turned around to see their daughter, Camille. Her long wavy hair that matched her mother's was styled into two braids on either side of her face, and she was dressed in a blue tank and her favorite polka dot shorts. Tears threatened to fall down her cheeks as she looked from her mother to her father.

Molly put on an extremely fake smile before walking over to her daughter. "What are you doing up so late, sweetheart?" she asked, brushing Camille's bangs out of her face.

"Everything OK?" Camille asked, looking past her mother and to her father. "I just heard you guys arguing and-"

"We're fine, honey," Her mother lied. "We're just a little stressed out and upset right now, okay? Why don't you go back upstairs and try and get some sleep."

Camille hesitated, but nodded in agreement. She received a peck on the cheek from her mother and a bear hug from her father before turning around and going back up the stairs.

"...but I still heard them arguing," Camille continued as Jo clasped her hand in hers. "My mom said that...she and...Jackson had a special connection, and that she "Couldn't be with someone who didn't share her dreams."

"So after my parents divorced, the both of them came to an agreement that I would stay with my dad during school days, so I could keep all my friends, and I would stay with my mom and Jackson on the weekends. It seemed like a fair agreement, but month after month, life started getting harder and harder. Jackson lived in this huge, beautiful mansion, but my life wasn't all it was cracked up to be. You see... he was an alcoholic. He would go out late at night, do drugs gamble, and come back drunk. He'd call my mother a "talentless slut"and threatened not to represent her anymore. And sometimes..." A few tears fell down Camille's face, but Logan quickly kissed them away, pulling her even closer to him.

"It's alright, Cam," He said soothingly into her ear. "Take your time, we're all here for you," he whispered as he stroked her hair. Everyone nodded in agreement.

Camille nodded and smiled a bit before taking a deep breath and continuing. "He would...hit her sometimes," she revealed, ignoring the looks of sympathy her friends were giving her.

"After a while, my mom barely paid attention to me. It was always about pleasing him. She would try and do anything and everything just so he wouldn't leave her, and sometimes that wasn't even enough. Me, I stayed away from him as much as I could. I'd...blast my earphones and sing...write music all day. Those were the only things really getting me by. Some days, though, mom would come in my room and fill my mind with all of this false hope about how she was gonna get her big break soon, and then we would get away from Connecticut and start a new life. For a while, I believed her. I actually had faith that things would get better soon enough. I thought that things would change. I thought that she would pull herself together and get away from Jackson. All he wanted was to show her off to his buddies and brag about his "Amazing artist that was gonna be signed one day."

Camille took in another shaky breath. "Things didn't go as planned, though. Jackson's new studio was yet to be built, no one was that interested in my mother's demos, and he had a lot of people on the streets that he owed money to. About a month later, things went downhill from there. My mother would cry every night, she'd stopped singing, and Jackson got even worse. He apologized every night, telling her how much he loved her and needed her. He persuaded her to do drugs with him, saying that it would "take the pain away." When he was angry, though, he blamed my mother for his career going down the toilet and hit her more than usual. I didn't know what to think. As much as I longed to come home every week, I didn't want to leave my mom alone with him. I wanted to take care of her...make sure she was okay." Camille was sobbing into Logan's shoulder now as he rubbed small circles on her back affectionately. A tear crept out of his eye but he quickly wiped it away, knowing that he had to stay strong for Camille while she was in such a fragile state.

Camille sniffled, straightening herself up for the moment. "One night, it all became too much for me," she whispered.

Camille opened her door ever so slightly, cringing at the slight creaking noise it had made. She slinked through the small opening in the door, her eyes darting from side to side with fear before fastening her small duffel bag on her shoulder and tiptoeing down the dark hall to the last door on the left. She peeked her head into the slightly ajar door, relieved when she saw the two sleeping forms on the king-sized bed. Camille then carefully and quietly walked down the long spiral stairway, looking over her shoulder every few seconds. She felt a strange sense of accomplishment and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding in when she reached the last step. Camille stepped through the elaborate living room. Sleek leather couches, a red, furry rug, white silk curtains, and a beautiful glass chandelier to tie it all together. It was a shame that such a beautiful home held so much pain.

After what felt like an eternity, Camille finally stood in front of the house phone. Her breathing picked up as she took the phone off of the hook. Her hands were clammy, and she gripped the phone in her hands as tightly as she could, in fear that it would slip out of her hands any second. Camille took another glance behind her before taking a deep breath. Her heart pounded in her chest as she dialed a familiar number and held the phone to her ear. She glanced at the clock. It was around two o'clock in the morning. This wasn't the time that Camille would have preferred to do this, but her father worked such crazy hours, this was the only time she assumed he would be at home.

"Hello?" a sleepy voice was heard from the other line, taking Camille away from her thoughts. Tears welled up in her eyes as soon as she heard her dad's voice.

"D-daddy?" Camille's voice cracked, a struggled sob escaping past her lips.

"Camille?" he asked, his voice immediately more clear and urgent. "Is there something wrong, sweetheart?"

Camille wiped her eyes. "Can you please come and pick me up? I...I want to come home," she replied, pulling at a strand of her hair as more tears rolled down her cheeks.

Mr. Roberts was confused. "Why? I just dropped you off a few hours ago."

"I-I can't explain right now, dad. Just...come and get me. Please?" she pleaded.

Camille heard her father's bed creak as he stood up. "Alright, Cam," he says, and Camille can hear him grabbing his keys. "I'll be there soon, okay?

"Stay on the phone with me?" she asked.

"Of course, Cami Bear," he reassured her. "I'm on my way right now."

Camille let out her second sigh of relief of the evening as she waited by the door, looking out the window as if he would magically appear in the parking lot.

She started to calm down as her dad made corny jokes on the other line, keeping her company. It was a long wait, seeing that her dad's house was about twenty minutes away, but then, finally, she saw it. She quickly hung up the phone and carefully put it back on the hook before scooping up her duffel bag and walking through the door and away from her nightmare.

"...So after my dad took me home, I decided to take a good night's sleep before telling him everything the next day. I knew he wouldn't be home when I woke up so I had to spill the beans that next night. We had a long talk and he listened to me the entire time. I can't even express how much I love him. Without my dad...I don't know where I'd be now," Camille said. "After I was done, my dad immediately insisted that we call the police...but it was too late."

Camille said the last part quietly. She buried her head into Logan's shoulder and sobbed loudly into it, her tears wetting his shirt. Logan and the rest of the gang looked at her and told her kind, soothing words until her sobs subsided after a while. She sighed.

"We...we got a call that day. Some detective called our house and told my dad that...that they had been looking for Jackson for a while for drug use. They arrested him, but when they found my mom...she had over dosed." She said, her words breaking the hearts of everyone in the room. Before they could voice their sympathy, Camille spoke up again, her voice sounding so small. It scared them. This wasn't the Camille they knew and loved.

"A-and...Immediately, I...I felt...guilty," she stated, breaths coming out in hiccups. "I thought that...that if I hadn't of left her...if I had just stayed with her for that day, then she'd still be here," she sobbed. "If I hadn't been such a coward...then-"

"Hey," Logan's voice cut her off. "You were not a coward, Camille," he said, making sure she was looking at him. "None of this was your fault. You did what you should have done," he says, cradling her in his arms.

Camille nodded into his chest, feeling comforted while being in his arms. She was done talking for the day. Kendall, James, Carlos and Jo all huddled around the pair, pulling each other into a group hug. They would be there for her for as long as she needed them.

A/N: Well you guys, I kept each in every one of you in my mind as I wrote this. I love all of you. Fanfiction has really changed my life in ways I never thought it would. Big time Rush has, too. They are really the only things that keep me sane these days, so I feel like I can't thank all of you enough (:

Oh, and thank you to poeticjustice13 for helping me get my confidence back. I appreciate and love you so much(:

-Oh, and I've been having this nagging thought in my head to change my summary, but that just depends on which direction I want the story to go. If you have any ideas, let me know.

REVIEW!(: