Oh my God. It's long. It's long, it's long, it's long. Like. Eleven pages in word. I don't know what happened. Enjoy.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Big Time Rush or any of its characters.
LOGAN MITCHELL AND FATHER REUNITED
Earlier today we posted THIS article highlighting what appeared to be Logan Mitchell's (cute and nerdy Big Time Rush member) never-been-there dad. After numerous calls to representatives of the 17-year-old popstar, we finally have received a response.
Publicity mouthpiece for the band, Jessica Steen, had this to say to our reporters. "Although Logan would have preferred to keep this private, he does confirm that this man featured in your article is indeed his father, Christopher Mitchell. He thanks his fans for their supportive messages that he has received."
All we have to say is, congrats Logan, for finding your father again after so long!
Any well-wishes for Logan and his long-lost daddy? Comment below!
Logan snorted as he read the short article, passing the iPad to Kelly again. "Well, at least they're not trying to spin off any horrible lies about Chris or anything," he commented. "I wouldn't have been surprised if they had tried to speculate whether he was an imposter or something."
"Don't worry, Logan," the cheery voice of Jessica Steen came from the iPhone on the coffee table. "I made sure to make it clear that any coverage was to be positive and short, or they'd be hearing from our legal team."
"Thanks, Jess," Logan replied earnestly.
Jess cleared her throat on the other end of the line. "I do need one more thing from you Logan. Tiger Beat and Teen both called in with the same question that they want to run in a sidebar for their Father's Day issues."
"What's that?" Logan asked.
"'What was it like growing up without a dad?'"
Logan was struck silent as the others all stared at him expectantly.
Kindergarten
"Class, today we're going to hear about families," Miss Appleton sang in an excited voice to the children seated around her. "Everyone has a family, but there are so many different kinds! First, we're going to look at a picture of a family."
Logan sat quietly in the back, his dark hair falling into his deep brown eyes. He watched closely as Miss Appleton held up a drawing of some people in front of a house. "Okay, class, here's the mommy," Miss Appleton said in her sing-song voice, pointing to the woman in the picture. "And here's the daddy! And here's…yes, Logan?" she said as she saw a little hand raise hesitantly into the air.
"Why does that picture have a daddy?" little Logan Mitchell asked.
"Well, most families have a daddy, Logan," Miss Appleton explained.
"My family doesn't have a daddy," Logan said. "Why does that family have a daddy, but I don't?"
Miss Appleton got a strange look on her face. "Well…well, Logan, some families are different. Does anyone else not have a daddy? Or not have a mommy?" She looked around and saw no raised hands. With a sigh, she turned back to Logan. She offered him a kind smile. "Well, aren't you special, Logan. You're the only one! That's so special."
She went on to ask people about siblings. Logan was also the only kid in his class who was an only child. And he was the only one without any aunts or uncles, and all he had was one grandma. Miss Appleton commented again on how special he was, and how much love he must get from his mother, with no one else to take her attention. But Logan didn't feel special. He felt weird. All the other kids gave him funny looks.
He felt really lonely.
Second Grade
Logan shoved his workbook and pencils into his bright blue backpack as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. He joined the other kids as they all hurried out the door of the classroom, tripping over his untied shoelaces as he went.
Out on the front steps of the school, he was faced with what he always saw every day—kids getting picked up by their parents. He saw a girl from his class, Susie, run to her father and give him a big hug, before walking off holding his hand. Logan sighed, hitched his backpack on his shoulder, and trudged towards the big yellow bus idling on the curb.
In a seat at the front of the bus, he pulled a book from his bag and started reading. His mom always told him he shouldn't read while in a car because he might get carsick, but he always did anyway. It wasn't like he had any friends on the bus to talk to during the long ride. Come to think of it, he didn't really have that many friends at school either. He had the boys he sat next to at lunch, the kids at his table in the classroom, but it wasn't much. It wasn't like he was playing at anyone's house after school.
The bus ride was long—it was always long and boring. By the time it pulled up to his street, his mom was standing at the stop waiting for him. She could never get off work early enough to pick him up from school, but she always managed to be home before the bus dropped him off.
Logan got off with a couple other kids from his neighborhood, and he hugged his mom like usual. He knew that she had been really sad and tired lately, ever since his grandma had died a few weeks ago. Logan had been sad too. He and his grandma were really close—it was kind of hard not to be when she was his only other family besides his mom.
As Logan and his mom walked down the sidewalk towards their house, hand in hand, she cleared her throat and said something that, although he didn't know it yet, would change his life forever.
"Logie bear, remember how I said we might be moving after this year?" she started carefully. Logan nodded. "Well, I got a job in Minnesota, and we'll be moving there this summer." She looked at her son anxiously, trying to gauge his response. "How do you feel about that?"
"Where's Minnesota?" Logan asked, screwing up his face in concentration as he tried to picture the US map that was on the wall of his classroom.
"It's up north, Logie bear," his mom said. "It's a lot colder than here—it snows every winter. You'll be able to ice skate whenever you want." That was one of her big selling points for Minnesota. Logan loved ice skating—and hockey. He loved to watch hockey on television. But his school didn't have a team (it was Texas; it was football or nothing, essentially) and she couldn't afford to pay for him to join the peewee city league.
"Oh," Logan said, and smiled a little. "That sounds like fun." He hesitated. "Mom, does Dad live in Minnesota?"
His mother inhaled sharply and paled for a moment before regaining her composure. She squeezed Logan's hand. "I don't know where your dad lives, honey," she murmured.
Logan wanted to press the subject, but even at this age he'd learned that his father was a sensitive topic. Before long, he'd stop asking questions about him altogether.
Fifth Grade
"Hey, loser!" The small-for-his-age boy tensed as he heard someone behind him shout. He slowly turned away from his locker and faced the kid who had called to him. Jimmy Phelps. Logan's own personal tormenter. Since the beginning of the year, Jimmy had zeroed in on Logan, deciding he was an easy target and had relentlessly picked on him.
Logan had dealt with plenty of bullies in the past, but none were so scary as Jimmy. He'd do more than just called Logan names. He knocked his books out of his hands, stole lunch money, and shoved Logan more times than could be counted.
Jimmy sauntered up to him now. "I've gotta go, Jimmy," Logan murmured, trying to make himself even smaller as he hurriedly put books into his bag. "My ride is waiting for me."
"Oh yeah, huh?" Jimmy taunted. "Well they can wait. I want to have a little chat first." Jimmy gave Logan a little shove.
Logan felt his ears growing red. "I really c-can't," he stammered.
"C-c-c-c-c-can't!" Jimmy mocked. "Listen to you!" He laughed, before taking the book that Logan was holding and tossing it onto the floor. Logan quickly glanced around to make sure that no one saw him getting made fun of. He went to pick up his book but Jimmy grabbed his arm and made him stop.
"I heard you're really good at science, loser Logan," Jimmy went on. "Just so happens I've got a worksheet due tomorrow. You do it, and I might let you keep your lunch money tomorrow."
"I can't," Logan told him stiffly. "I've got my own homework to do. Besides, that's cheating."
"Cheating?" Jimmy laughed. "I don't care! You're gonna do it, cuz I said so, loser Logan." He gave Logan one shove, then another, making Logan fall back a couple steps.
Getting picked on constantly was making Logan so angry. He lost his senses for a minute and shoved Jimmy back.
Jimmy's face was shocked and Logan absorbed the enormity of what he'd just done. He tried to grab his bag to make a run for it, but Jimmy pushed him, hard, onto the ground. "Oh, you think you're a tough guy, do ya?" Jimmy snarled at him. "On the hockey team, such a tough guy, huh?"
"You're just jealous because you didn't make the hockey team!" Logan sneered back before he could think. He had that problem, thinking without speaking.
Jimmy grabbed Logan by the collar and pulled him up. "I wouldn't want to be on that stupid team!" Jimmy growled. He then grabbed Logan's glasses right from his face and cleanly snapped them in half as Logan stared, open-mouthed. Jimmy tossed the glasses on the ground and suddenly shoved Logan hard, knocking his shoulder hard against the locker. He shoved Logan into the locker again, again, and then finally shoved him to the ground. With a laugh, he walked away
Logan sniffed, wiping away a few tears, and pulled himself together, packing his books up and shoving his glasses in a side pocket of his backpack. He ran out to the parking lot and found Mama Garcia's car waiting for him.
"Logan, where were you?" Carlos asked, as Logan slipped in the backseat next to him. "Hey, where are your glasses?"
Flustered, Logan stammered out a response. "I-I broke them. On accident. I dropped them and then…stepped on them."
"Oh no," Mama Garcia tutted as she pulled out of her parking space. "That's a shame."
"Yeah," Logan agreed, relieved that no one questioned his story. Truthfully, he wanted to burst into tears and tell Carlos everything—all about Jimmy's relentless bullying, but he couldn't. For two years, since he'd moved to Minnesota, the guys had been his best friends. He'd always been in the same class as at least one of the others. But now, in fifth grade, with a rotating daily schedule, he was often separated from the guys, and they weren't around to protect him from the teasing that he seemed to attract.
Plus, knowing the guys, they'd probably just want to go and beat up Jimmy himself, and then they would be the one in trouble. That wouldn't be fair. And it wasn't their responsibility anyway. Logan scuffed his feet on the floor of the car and stared out the window. He should be tough enough to stand up to Jimmy, Logan realized. He was on the hockey team. He was supposed to be a popular, cool kid. His friends were popular and cool.
So why was he always getting picked on?
The ride to the Garcia's house was short and sweet, with the aimless chattering of Carlos filling up the entire time. At their house, the boys dropped their bags by the front door and ran to the den to play some video games
Ever since they'd moved to Minnesota, Logan's mom had been working later. He had a schedule of going over to one of the guys' houses after school every day (unless he had hockey practice) until his mom picked him up. He didn't mind this situation—in fact it was pretty great. He was always with his friends. But today, he wanted nothing more than to throw himself on his own bed and just sob.
Still, he managed to keep himself together as he and Carlos battled in Mario Kart for a half an hour. After winning a round, Carlos whooped in celebration and punched Logan on the arm. It was in a friendly way, but it hurt a lot for some reason and Logan cried out.
Carlos immediately stopped his celebrating. "Did I hurt you?" he asked incredulously. "How? I barely tapped you!"
"No!" Logan covered up, gritting his teeth and rubbing his sore arm. "I'm fine."
"Lemme see," Carlos insisted and, despite Logan's objections, pulled up the sleeve of Logan's shirt. There, on his upped arm, was an already-formed livid bruise from repeatedly being shoved into that stupid locker. "Logan, what happened?" Carlos asked, confused. "Did you get hurt in hockey practice?"
"Yes!" Logan exclaimed, grasping at the line he'd been offered. "That must be it."
Carlos shook his head. "Except that doesn't seem right, because we only had one practice this week so far and all we did was slapshots. And you didn't fall or anything."
Logan floundered for a few seconds. "Logan," Carlos began slowly. "Did someone hurt you?"
His eyes wide, Logan felt tears welling up. He just sniffed and looked at the ground, turning away. Carlos seemed to be putting the pieces together. "Your glasses too! Someone broke those? Did someone beat you up? Who?" Logan just shook his head. "Who is it?" Carlos demanded. "I'll get back at him. Kendall and James too."
"No!" Logan insisted. "I don't want you to do that!"
"Logan we're not going to let you get bullied like this!" Carlos exclaimed.
"Bullied?" The boys both froze and turned to face the doorway. There was Papa Garcia, obviously just arrived from work, in his police uniform. He was looking at both the boys very expectantly. "Boys, who's getting bullied?"
Carlos pointed at Logan. "Papi, someone broke Logan's glasses and hurt his arm and he won't tell me who."
Papa Garcia came and kneeled down in front of Logan, to see eye to eye with the seated boy. "Logan, is that true? Is someone giving you a hard time?"
Logan sniffed and finally nodded.
"Who?" Papa Garcia asked.
"Jimmy Phelps," Logan said in a small voice.
Carlos made a small noise of disgust. "Ugh! I hate him!"
"Carlos, it's not nice to hate people," Papa Garcia gently scolded. "And I hope you weren't thinking of fighting fire with fire and ganging up on Jimmy with Kendall and James, were you?" Carlos looked flustered and ducked his head. Papa Garcia turned back to Logan. "Logan, tomorrow morning, you and I are going in to see your principal."
That's exactly what they did. The next morning, Papa Garcia picked up Logan and drove him and Carlos to school. As Carlos ran off down the hallway to find Kendall and James, Logan and Papa Garcia went to the administration office. They were let into the principal's office. The principal was a nice-looking lady named Mrs. Elder.
"What can I do for you today?" she asked as Papa Garcia came in with Logan.
"Hello, Mrs. Elder, my name is Officer Erik Garcia," Papa Garcia said, shaking the principal's hand. "My son is Carlos Garcia?"
"Yes, I'm familiar with Carlos," Mrs. Elder said with a slight wince. "Why do you have Logan Mitchell with you then?"
Papa Garcia put a hand on Logan's shoulder. Logan was staring at the ground, gripping the straps on his backpack with both hands. "Logan told me about a little problem with one of the other students in his grade. Jimmy Phelps. Apparently, Jimmy's been taking his lunch money and roughing Logan up. He broke his glasses yesterday too, and gave him a nasty bruise on his arm."
Mrs. Elder pursed her lips. "Is that so?" she said. "Officer Garcia, thank you so much for bringing this to my attention. Trust me, it will not be continuing. Just give me a minute." Mrs. Elder picked up her desk telephone. She dialed a few numbers and then waited. "Mrs. Rodgers? Is Jimmy Phelps in your class right now? …He is? Can you send him to my office immediately? …thank you so much."
Hanging up the phone, Mrs. Elder gestured for Logan and Papa Garcia to sit down. She and Papa Garcia talked for a few minutes more about what Logan had told about Jimmy. When a knock came at the door, Logan felt his heart stop beating. He sank down in his chair.
"Come in, Jimmy," Mrs. Elder said in a hard voice. Jimmy Phelps walked in, not seeming so tough now that he was in the principal's office. In fact, he looked downright scared. When he saw a policeman sitting in one of the chairs, he stopped short. "Sit," Mrs. Elder ordered, pointing to the third chair.
Jimmy hesitantly sat. "Jimmy," Mrs. Elder began, folding her hands on top of her desk. "I've been hearing that you've been bullying Logan Mitchell. Is that true?"
"No way!" Jimmy lied, shaking his head. "Logan and I are friends, aren't we, Logan?" He gave a pointed look at Logan.
Logan looked up at Papa Garcia. Jimmy was lying. What if Papa Garcia and Mrs. Elder didn't believe Logan anymore? "I swear I told you the truth," Logan told Papa Garcia.
"I know," Papa Garcia soothed.
"Jimmy, I won't tolerate lying," Mrs. Elder told him. "Now tell me the truth. Did you break Logan's glasses yesterday?"
Jimmy fidgeted. "Yes, but—"
"Have you ever knocked his books out of his hands, or taken lunch money from him?"
"Yes, but—"
"Have you ever shoved him or hit him?"
"Yes, b-but—"
Mrs. Elder shook her head. "I will hear no buts from you, young man. I'm afraid I'm going to have to assign you to detention for the rest of the semester. I'll also be making a call to your mother and asking her to come in." As Mrs. Elder went to pick up the phone, she smiled at Papa Garcia and Logan. "Thank you both for bringing this to my attention. I'll take it from here."
Papa Garcia stood and shook Mrs. Elder's hand. Then he turned to Jimmy, who tried to keep steady under Papa Garcia's strong, steady gaze. "I want to hear an apology to Logan, young man," he demanded in a clear, authoritative voice.
Jimmy looked from Papa Garcia to Mrs. Elder. "I think that's exactly what you should do," Mrs. Elder agreed, folding her hands on her desk again. "Jimmy?"
Looking like he'd rather swallow a live bug, Jimmy turned his face slowly to Logan. Logan tried not to cower under the hateful look. "I'm sorry, Logan," Jimmy choked out.
Logan opened his mouth to try to accept the apology. He stood there for a few seconds, struggling, and then just bolted from the office. Papa Garcia came close on his heels.
"Hey, hey, hey, Logan," Papa Garcia said in a calming voice as he grabbed Logan's arm to stop him. He sat Logan down on a bench in the hallway and kneeled in front of him. "It's okay, all right? He's never going to bother you again. I promise."
Logan nodded, gulping in air as he tried not to cry. Papa Garcia wrapped him in a big hug. "I will never let anyone hurt you, okay?" Papa Garcia told him. "You're my boy as much as Carlos is. I love you."
"I love you too, Papa Garcia," Logan said.
Seventh Grade
Logan sat in his driveway, frustrated as all else. His bike chain had come off and he was trying to fix it. Unfortunately, he had absolutely no clue what he was doing.
He heard a car door close and turned to see the Knight's minivan at the curb. Mama Knight and Papa Knight both got out, in addition to Kendall and Katie. "Hey Logan!" Kendall called, running over to him.
"Hey," Logan answered. "What're you doing here?"
"Your mom invited us to dinner," Mama Knight explained, taking six-year-old Katie's hand.
"What are you doing there, kiddo?" Papa Knight asked, walking up to Logan's little work spot.
"I'm trying to fix the chain on my bike," Logan told him, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans. "I don't know how though."
Papa Knight squatted down to inspect the bike. "Well I can show you, really easy. Kendall can help, can't you?"
"Yup," Kendall said proudly.
"That's okay, I can do it…" Logan said hesitantly. He wanted help but he wasn't sure if Papa Knight should be the one to do it. Not anymore.
Mama Knight seemed to agree with him. "Trey, are you sure you should be doing that?" Mama Knight asked worriedly. "The doctor…"
"The doctor said nothing about fixing a bike, Jennifer," Papa Knight waved off. "In fact, the doctor said to 'continue as normally as you can.'" He smiled at Mama Knight. "Why don't you head on inside? We'll be in in a little bit."
Mama Knight sighed and took Katie inside. Papa Knight adjusted his baseball cap that was hiding his bald head, and began to show Logan exactly how to fix the bike, Kendall helping out when needed.
Soon, the bike was good as new. "Wow, thanks, Papa Knight," Logan said. "I thought it'd never be fixed."
"Hey, kid, you know if you ever need anything fixed you only have to let me know," Papa Knight insisted. "I run a garage—I know how to fix a fair few things."
Logan nodded. Papa Knight was indeed the Mr. Fix-It of the dads, but he'd been hesitant in asking him for any help. Ever since Kendall's dad had been diagnosed with leukemia, Logan hadn't been sure exactly how to act. He'd seen Papa Knight sick and weak in the past year, but recently he'd been looking so much better. Maybe he was all right after all.
He hoped that was true. He couldn't lose one of his dads. "Thanks Papa Knight," Logan said again, surprising the man with a quick hug. "I love you."
Papa Knight smiled and hugged Logan back. "I love you too kiddo."
Ninth Grade
Logan sighed as he sat at the Diamond's kitchen table, his math homework laid out in front of him. Normally he was so good at math, but this year it had gotten much more difficult. He was in the advanced classes, but it appeared that he wasn't advanced enough.
James was in the den watching television. He'd tried helping Logan, but it had been hopeless—James was nowhere near as good at math as Logan was, so something that was stumping Logan was impossible for James to grasp. Logan sighed again angrily and flung his pencil away from him.
"Well that was a big sigh," Michael Diamond commented, as he walked into the room from his study. He picked up Logan's pencil from where it had rolled onto the ground and handed it back to Logan, who took it meekly. Papa Diamond then sat in the chair next to Logan. "What's so frustrating, Logan?"
Logan gestured to his math homework. "I don't get this," he complained vaguely. "All of these shapes and angles. It's too hard."
"I doubt it's too hard for a smart kid like you to learn, Logan," Papa Diamond smiled. "So geometry huh? Already?"
"I'm in advanced math," Logan mumbled.
"I believe it. You're a smart kid Logan."
"I'm not smart enough to figure this out," he said hopelessly, gesturing at the papers filled with eraser smudges.
Papa Diamond glanced at a few of the problems. "You know, I bet you're really good at algebra and equations, aren't you Logan?"
"Yeah," Logan agreed. "That stuff's really easy. How'd you know?"
"Well, they say if you're good at algebra, geometry is hard for you. Or if you're good at geometry, algebra is hard." Papa Diamond shrugged. "It's an odd little thing that always seems to be true."
"Then I'll never get it," Logan murmured sadly.
"Now, I didn't say that," Papa Diamond objected. "I said it would be harder. I didn't say it was impossible, did I?" Logan shook his head and Papa Diamond smiled. "Fortunately, I happen to know a thing or two about geometry. How about we tackle this together?"
With Papa Knight's help, Logan slowly managed to grasp the concept of angles, shapes, and all of their lengths. The numbers stopped swimming around in Logan's head and finally were written down on the paper correctly. When he had written down the last answer, Logan looked at Papa Diamond with a huge smile. "How'd you get so good at geometry, Papa Diamond?"
"Well, kiddo, shapes and angles are good things for architects to know," Papa Diamond answered with a laugh.
James walked in. "Logan, have you finished yet?"
Logan smiled proudly. "Yup. Your dad helped me."
"So can we go to the arcade?" James asked, looking hopeful. "Kendall and Carlos just texted me and they said that cute new girl is there."
Papa Diamond laughed. "Yup, you're my son all right. You guys have fun. Be back in time for dinner!" he called after them as the guys raced to the door. "Love you both!"
"Love you too!" James and Logan both called as they went out the door and got on their bikes, riding away.
Present Day
"Logan?" Jess prompted. "Well?"
"You don't have to answer right now," Kendall suggested. "If you need time to think about it."
"No," Logan said. "Jess, tell them…it's the same as I've said before. I had a dad. I was lucky enough to have three dads. And a great mom. And three other amazing moms. And three brothers who mean the world to me. I'm so lucky for what I have, that I never had time to focus on what I didn't have." Logan smiled at the other three guys. "Thanks, guys," he suddenly thanked them.
"For what?" Carlos asked.
"For…sharing with me," he said simply. The other guys smiled. They all understood. They always understood each other.
Logan turned back to the speaker phone. "It was hard before I had these guys," he admitted. "But after that it was great. And now Chris is here and it's even better. I don't like to spend time focusing on the past. I want to look forward to my future."
"Great quote, Logan," Jess complimented. "I'll call back those editors, and hopefully this will be the end of all the daddy talk." With a quick goodbye, Jess hung up.
Kelly grabbed her iPhone from the coffee table. "If you guys have reached a good stopping point, you can go ahead and head home," she told them. "This drama ate up most of the afternoon anyway."
The guys all mumbled thanks and packed up their stuff. As they left Roque Records and headed for the car, Logan smiled and threw an arm around both Carlos and Kendall. "You guys really are the greatest, you know that?" he commented.
The guys all exchanged looks. "Yeah, we know," James replied. They all laughed.
"You're the greatest too, Logan," Carlos told him. "We wouldn't be anything without you."
"I wouldn't be anything without my brothers," Logan murmured, and smiled at his friends again. "Race ya to the car!"
The four boys all broke out running towards the BTR mobile, laughing the whole way.
P.S. Check out the trailer for my next upcoming fanfic! Copy and paste the link to your web browser!
watch?v=reAS1jKS2qg
