"Run wild and never look back
Break out, get a little loud
Shout it from the rooftops now
Wake up, even if you're down
Yeah, we're gonna run this town
Don't wait, time is running out
Can you hear it ticking, let the music kick in…"
–RUN WILD
"Tell me again what I'm doing here?"
Arthur Griffin didn't answer Kendall Knight's question and instead settled for painstakingly adjusting the gold cufflinks on his sleeves. Obdul and Jessica, his ever-faithful assistants, stood stone-faced and rigid behind him as usual; the former holding a black suitcase, and the latter a clipboard.
At last, Griffin held out both hands until his palms roughly grazed the tip of Kendall's nose, and he grinned like a pleased shark.
"Ah, there." He announced. "Much better, don't you think?"
"Griffin, please—" started the exasperated teenager, but both assistants glowered at him poisonously until he swallowed hard and forced himself to mutter out, "Yes...yes it is."
"Great!" The appeased CEO clapped his hands together. "Now, where were we?"
"I was just wondering why you sent me here." Kendall looked warily around the office, and grimaced upon seeing the humongous portrait of Griffin leering behind him. "Well, forced me here, more like."
"Business! As you might expect."
"Oh, that clears things up completely, thanks." came the sardonic reply, "but a phone call or a polite invitation would be nice, instead of stuffing me in a giant sack and kidnapping me while I was chilling with Jo at the Palm Woods pool!"
"You know me, Kendall. I'm a professional. I prefer to do my business face to face, with man-carrying sacks." Griffin stated credulously. "And this is a highly serious matter—the magnitude of which cannot be transmitted through a mere phone call or polite invitation alone, and it simply cannot wait."
"Hurry up with it then, jeez! What's this 'serious matter' all about?"
"This, is about an issue concerning one of your bandmates. Or as you silly kids like to call them, your friends."
Kendall's contemptuous gaze quickly bugged out. "Who is it? What did they do? Did they do something wrong? It wasn't us, we swear!" he badgered Griffin in a fit of momentary alarm, "and that broken Ming vase was totally not Carlos's fault! We didn't do anything wrong!"
"Oh, you boys do everything wrong. But I suppose that's a part of your charm, and as long as you're selling millions of records to susceptible young teens and making us a ton of money along with it, there's nothing wrong with doing things wrong, that's just how the business model goes!" Griffin remarked, and Kendall scratched his head in slight confusion. "Well, except for the Ming vase part, that's something we definitely have to discuss in the future. But never mind that for now. This is actually just about James."
"Oh, okay…what about him?"
"We have a proposition for Mr. Diamond." Obdul suddenly spoke up, startling Kendall.
Huh, so that's what he sounds like, he bemusedly thought.
"Ah yes, the proposition! That's a rather fun word to say. Pro-po-si-tion. Mmm, silky and creamy like a freshly-brewed cup of Black Ivory coffee, and rolls smoothly off the tongue, like offer, or acquisition, or death sentence." Kendall squinted suspiciously at Griffin, but he didn't seem to notice. "Anyway, hand me the files, please."
With a click of his briefcase, Odbul carefully slid out a gleaming red folder from it and handed the folder over to Griffin. The CEO then presented it to Kendall, who quickly averted his eyes from the painfully bright glare that flashed across his vision.
"Oooh, don't you just love shiny folders?" crooned Griffin as he caressed the one he was holding out with weathered fingers. "I personally love me a shiny red folder, because there's nothing like the feeling of opening up a shiny red folder. But you know what's even better?"
"Um, not getting my eyes blinded by an insanely shiny red folder?"
"Wrong! It's actually the contents of a shiny red folder."
Griffin proceeded to open up the said item with a loud thwip and adjusted his tie before launching into a grand speech.
"Now you see, you boys have been—when you're not getting into rare, antiquated vase-related trouble, that is—good to me, and I certainly won't undermine that fact. Because just between you and me," he leaned in closer to Kendall, "for the longest time, my tons of money was betting on the fact that after his blaze of glory in the nineties quickly snuffed out and he sold his record company to us, Gustavo Rocque's stint as a hit mega-producer was finally going to completely collapse—and his quaint yet overambitious record label will go bankrupt and get liquidated. And who knows, he'd probably make a hell of a career out of being a scooter salesman." Griffin slightly shook his head at the distasteful thought. "The man sure has the mouth for it, at least. Maybe too much mouth."
"But in a surprising turn of events, the introduction of Big Time Rush into that once-crash-and-burn equation has somehow managed to break him out of his terrible funk, and your band successfully reinvigorated both Rocque Records' dwindling reputation—and more importantly, their dwindling sales—with your music! Your catchy, record-breaking, teenage-obsessing, Kerplankistan chart-topping music. And your naïve boyish charm and good looks helped a lot too, I suppose." added Griffin matter-of-factly. "My little princess was right—those six-to-sixteen year-old core buying demographics are quite the feisty bunch, indeed."
"Yeah...I already know all of that. And that's like, a good thing, right?"
"Well, yes and no. Based on your most recent performance review, as well as all the pertinent statistical information my marketing and development teams have managed to gather, Big Time Rush has been doing great...but you could aim for greater!"
"What does that mean?" Kendall frowned indignantly. "We've been working our butts off 24/7 with band practice and recording new songs and holding concerts and interviews and press releases and horse commercials and tours and everything, plus infinity! So much, in fact, that I'm scared I'm gonna get permanent hearing damage soon—and that's just from having to listen to all of Gustavo's constant yelling every single day!"
"Yes, that's what I meant when I said that Big Time Rush was doing 'great'," Griffin enclosed the word in air quotes, "one sentence ago. My, you boys really do need to get examined for central auditory processing disorder."
"Oh, talk it out with Logan, he'll love not loving...whatever that nutty diagnosis is. But like, when you say 'great'," Kendall mimed the older man's implicative action, "did you bring me here to tell me that we're gonna be a success, or that we're gonna fail somehow?"
"Yes!"
"Huh?"
With an impatient shake of his head, Griffin picked up a thick binder labelled 'Boy Band Risk and Feasibility Report 2.0' on his desk and tossed it at Kendall without any warning, and the boy caught it right across his stomach and toppled out of his seat with a pained "Oof!"
"Well, according to current trends, our marketing team's research shows that following the past fads of old forgotten pop groups such as BoyzCity, Boys in the Attic, BoyQuake, Boy Blast, The Ball Boys, and—weirdly enough—Girls Boys Girls Girls, boy bands are most likely going to go out...again. And, solo careers from former boy band members in foreign countries, are most certainly in! So that's exactly what we are going to pursue. Or what one of you is going to pursue, to be more precise."
Kendall staggered to his feet, clutching at his throbbing side. "Which...means...?" he managed to wheeze out.
"Which means, we're pulling James out of Big Time Rush and turning him into our own personal breakout star. We already have a tragic backstory for him and everything!"
Griffin began poorly imitating the teenager's voice in a squeaky manner. "'Big Time Rush was quite fun while it lasted, but due to our creative differences and the constant fighting with my friends—now my ex-bandmates, I couldn't stand it anymore and I knew that life had better circumstances for me. And I found that right here!'"
"Right wh—"
"Oh, and 'right here' being South America, of course." he clarified, not missing a beat. "I hear he's got quite the sizable fanbase there, for some strange reason that our researchers have yet to be diligent about. As a matter of fact, his name's the fourth most-searched musician in Schnooble dot Español, right next to Banda El Recodo, Selana, and Adelantada: the marimba-playing ape. So buen trabajo, James Diamond. Or should I say...Jaime Diamante?"
Griffin beamed with evident pride. "So, what do you think?"
"What do I think? What do I think?!" The incensed Kendall abruptly slammed his palms down on the desk, knocking over a nearby lamp. "First of all, my friends and I don't fight! Okay—well, we do fight sometimes, but like, not in a bad way or anything...at least not bad enough that James would wanna run away from us to a completely different continent! And secondly, he would never even say that! Especially the 'circumstance' part, he would probably faint before he even finishes saying that word. And lastly, that's such a horrible idea because it's kinda really offensive, and also you just want my friend to lie about everything!"
He huffed and crossed his arms in finality. "That's what I think!"
"Kendall, please." Griffin simply waved all of his concerns off. "This is showbiz. Everybody lies! And the best phonies make it big!"
"So you basically just want James to be fake?" Kendall countered angrily.
"No, I want him to be a superstar! A superstar who makes me and my company some extra real moolah. And if faking it till he makes it big is what it takes to do that, then I say, so be it."
"So that's it? That's seriously your big plan? You want to turn one of my best friends into a total fakie-faker 'superstar' so that he could be your very own personal money-making machine in—in South America? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! You can't make him do this!"
"Really?" Griffin arched a dubious brow. "Because last time I checked, I own you and your 'best friends' AND your precious record company, and you are all currently under my contract which states, and I'm paraphrasing here, that I technically have full proprietorship to all of your butts." Behind him, Obdul took out the aforementioned contracts from his briefcase and wordlessly showed it to Kendall. "So yes, I can. And yes, he will."
"I mean...why...why even do this? Why even go through all that trouble when you know we're already doing fine here as it is, anyway?"
"The answer is simple." replied Griffin curtly. "Money. Further expanding my company's assets, influence, and profit over to another continent. Pushing away any potential competitor clients with such an outrageously 'fresh and happening' idea hitting them from left field. And the mere fact that Rocque Records has nearly sunk its very expensive ship before with its perpetual boy band obsession, and we simply cannot afford another repeat of that near-disastrous incident." he shook his head. "Seriously, you should see the ledgers on that financial report, it's a cataclysmic debacle and a half!"
Which Jessica did show, and from the battered looks of the old general ledger she procured, Kendall was quick to realise that it had most likely made its mark in Gustavo's hefty gut—if not also Kelly's (though she was a far better dodger, ducker, dipper, diver, and dodger than her collaborator, as they once discovered during a messy game of hallway snickerdoodle dodgeball)—one too many times, probably around the time that the younger boy was just learning how to count up to ten and crushing on one of the members from the same record label's classic smash girl group Angel Angel.
Kendall felt his own bruised abdomen seize up at the assumption and winced. And speaking of...
"Well you're wrong, 'cause Big Time Rush is actually recording another awesome album that's gonna rock everyone's socks off all over again, and trust me, we're definitely not gonna fail, whatever it takes!" he insisted. "Anyway, all this shouldn't be my problem to deal with, so why don't you discuss all this complicated legal grown-up mumbo-jumbo with Gustavo and Kelly first? Especially Kelly, she's the one who's great with that kinda stuff!"
"You see, it's all about micromanaging, Kendall. If I don't crack down hard on my company's Music division, do you really think that our Investment Firms, Gaming, Clothing & Fashion, Frozen Fish Stick, and Missile Defence & Mutant Power Lab divisions would be running as smoothly as they are right now?"
Griffin didn't wait for a reply. "Yeah, no, I don't think so. We need to run a tight ship here, or we will take on water and sink in the high-stakes business world. So say what you want about it, but we're just trying to think ahead of the game and beat the curve." he shrewdly tapped a finger at his temple, "Because that's how we win. And that's how I'm going to take over the world."
"You—you evil—you're just—you're a fiend!" Kendall cried out, but his scathing declaration barely earned him a mildly-reproved look from Griffin and exchanging looks from both assistants.
"And you'll see! Once I tell my friends AND Kelly and Gustavo about this, we'll give you and your insane scheme a piece of our minds—they'll never agree to break us up like this!"
"Oh, maybe...but do you think James would really give up such a huge, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to hit it bigger than big and elevate his current flimsy status of Hollywood fame into assured worldwide megastardom that easily? Are you one hundred percent sure about that?" persuaded Griffin. "Because if you are, then we would gladly cancel this entire plan right here and now, and he would never have to find out about it, ever."
Kendall didn't answer.
"That's what I thought." The CEO clasped his hands. "As for the rest of your troublemaking cohorts, they're nothing but a minor setback for me...like blowflies in an exorbitant yet economically-bolstering sticky trap, if you have the time to be maudlinly poetic about it," he glanced at his jewel-encrusted Rolex, "which I definitely don't, and you owe me exactly four and a half stock points for wasting it. But that's besides the point. Contracts, remember?"
"Oh, contracts schmontracts—what is this, a deal with the devil?! Sounds tempting...but unlike you, I kinda like having a soul!"
"Then keep it. We have about a thousand more stored in our Soul Cryogenics Facility, anyway. But also, may I just remind you that all of this is currently confidential information—which means that you are strictly forbidden to disclose any details of this meeting to anyone else, apart from the person or persons we instructed you to tell." warned Griffin, staring Kendall down threateningly. "So unless you're willing to get into some complicated grown-up legal trouble and lose, I suggest you behave yourself and keep quiet about it."
Obdul mysteriously tapped one hand on his briefcase to punctuate his boss's point.
Finding himself finally beginning to run out of steam, Kendall took a measured breath to regain his composure and quietly sat back down.
"Okay...okay. Fine. It just doesn't make any sense at all, but just like, fine. Just...why James, anyway? Why not Logan, or Carlos, or—or heck, even me?"
"Because Logan Mitchell is far too unreliable, Carlos Garcia is far too unpredictable, and you—though perfect candidate you may be for this ambitious project—Kendall Knight," Griffin accusingly pointed at the boy with his Fulgor Nocturnus fountain pen, "are simply far too loyal. To a fault. We could pay you a bajillion dollars—which I perfectly assure you, I have more than enough of stored away in my bank vault—to go on a trip to Mars, and you still wouldn't accept it unless we somehow allowed you to drag the other boys with you. And that simply wouldn't fly!" he sucked air through his teeth. "Ooh, that was a good pun. Write that down!"
Jessica nodded, not breaking her serious façade as she began jotting down notes furiously on her clipboard.
"Yeah, because they're my friends." scoffed Kendall. "My best friends in the world. We do everything together, and we don't leave each other behind. Because that's what friends do."
"That's very sweet of you, Kendall. And very, very, very stupid. Like I said, that's all just silly kid talk."
"You're stupid!"
"Stupidly rich, yes." Griffin airily dismissed him. "Now, as for James Diamond...well, it's all in the name, isn't it? He's a boy with ambition. With dreams of fame and fortune, far bigger and more aggressive than the rest of you three Rush boys and your washed-out papa dog combined could barely even begin to fathom. And you gosh-danged know he's willing to give his all in order to achieve it. And on top of all that, he's ridiculously easy to persuade! And that's the type of star we need right now." He held up three fingers and counted them off. "Beautiful, determined, and entirely complacent."
As much as Kendall hated to admit it, he knew Griffin had a point.
"Okay, but...why call on me, then, if I'm not the one getting shipped off to be your weirdo foreign superstar monkey dog experiment or whatever? Why not just shove James in one of your giant man-carrying sacks instead and drag him out here, so you could talk to him about this outright?"
"Because, Kendall, we don't have sacks strong enough to contain him. We're still working on that prototype." Griffin gently stroked the stuffed beaver on his desk. "And I do need you to be the one who breaks the surprise to him. Adds more drama and suspense that way, don't you think?" he chuckled.
"Are you out of your mind?!"
The smug older man remained unfazed by Kendall's biting tone. "Perhaps. You can't be this successful without a dash of mad genius, of course." He shrugged nonchalantly, as Jessica continued scribbling down her boss's quotes verbatim on her clipboard. "How else do you think I got so wealthy and renowned?"
"Um, didn't your grandfather invent the moist towelette and you just inherited all his fortune?"
"That, too—but I digress. Now, as you have heard many times before—or maybe your potentially-damaged eardrums didn't so this bears some more crucial repeating—all the information I have just given you is highly classified for the time being, and naturally, also a matter of serious importance."
Kendall rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever, I get it already! So what?"
"So, James needs to hear the news from his 'friend'," Griffin emphasised with a mocking sneer, "Not from the fourth most powerful CEO of America and of the fifth largest company in the world. Do you understand?"
"Yes? Wait. Not really." Kendall stammered exasperatedly. "Can you at least give me a minute to think about this?"
"No." He was swiftly rejected by Griffin, who thumped both palms against the sides of his luxurious leather chair to end the conversation. "Now, I've got a virtual meeting with Fujisaki and his board of directors to attend—and who knows how long our ancient founder's got left on the clock so I better hurry it up—and my pants are getting cold. So run along and be a good boy, and do as daddy says. And try not to break any more priceless collection vases while you're at it. Goodbye!"
With a snippy motion of their boss's hand, Griffin's stoic assistants walked over to Kendall, hauled him up to his feet using the back of his sweater, and they started roughly ushering the boy out of the office before he could say any further truculent words in edgewise.
Before Obdul and Jessica shut the door on Kendall's face, Arthur Griffin leaned on the giant desk, his lower face hidden behind enfolded hands as his cold blue eyes gazed at the boy sternly. The stark shadows of the dimly-lit room made his craggy visage appear more timeworn and sinister than ever—revealing the true demeanour of a powerful and ruthless businessman who will stop at nothing to get his way.
"One of you is going to have to make a decision, Kendall. Whoever it is, they better choose wisely. Or else."
a/n: I don't want to be *that* writer who throws in author's notes like nobody's business, but I feel that it's necessary to include a few introductory notes—and I promise, this is the going to be only one. But it;s gonna be super rambly, sorry ;^
Anyway, hello and welcome to my first-ever Big Time Rush fanfiction! Not to mention, also my first-ever long form novel thingy, topping up at over 90k words (or maybe even 100k if my typing hands don't shut up). Firstly, in terms of timelines, this story is set roughly somewhere in between S02E19 (Big Time Prom Kings) and S02E20 (Big Time Break Up), although there may still be some anachronisms abound, so apologies if there are. Also, I don't know if this is even necessary, but this contains a lot of major plot spoilers from season 1 and then some from season 2, so please do with that information what you may. And if this fic reads like a mess, that's because I wanted to include a million things and got too out of hand during editing and revising and my writing style had to go and lowkey change up in the middle of it all. But hey, come one, come all for a big time clusterfuck of a story! Jk but not really
Secondly, a fair warning that, while somewhat relatively in-keeping with the show's standard lighthearted hijinks and comedic tones, this is also going to be a fairly drama-filled fic that has a lot of focus on each of the boys' inner monologues, childhood memories, emotional turmoil and what have you. That being said, this will tackle more serious themes like anxiety and panic attacks, self-harm, suicide ideation and disordered eating, abuse and anger issues, dissociation, depression, mild violence/injuries, bullying, familial issues and death, and quite a lot of self-loathing and angst, among other things. So if any of those mentioned tags might cause you discomfort or otherwise, please do take caution and stay safe.
Third, writing this fic just filled my brain up with way too much useless information about Los Angeles, California and US geography/laws as a whole, but I can't be a hundred percent sure if there's any factual errors because whoops we out here being not-American ig. And I also know jack shit about hockey, so there's that too. There's also a fair amount of Spanish-related inclusions, and while I may have an admiration for the culture and have a mother tongue that's somewhat derived from it, I also unfortunately cannot speak the language and had to rely on a lot of shady Google searching for it. It's extremely questionable at best, so if there are any errors or mistakes regarding those things, please feel more than free to correct me on it, I'll appreciate it very much, thank you!
And lastly, here's a little YouTube playlist I made which includes all the BTR songs quoted before every chapter (as well as Stuck, where the title and chapter names are derived from, and Big Time Rush, because of course) for convenience: playlist?list=PL7wF1B9ULRpztsMz4X-nzaS1fSs8kx82K
I get up to more big time shenanigans on my BTR blog on tumblr: heffrondriving, write other bandfics on ao3: boyonthebluemoon, and sometimes draw the boys badly and put it up on Instagram: alizariincrimson :^D (such shameless shilling, yes, i know)
Anyhow, I've rambled on enough. Any comments, kudos, reviews, criticisms, interactions, and violent reactions would also be very much welcome! (pls i'm a very desolate rusher ;-;) Okay, I'll stop it, stop it forever now. Have a palm woods day, everyone. Cue iconic 'uh oh oHhhh OH' opening song!