"We can't help but cause a fight
It's the same old drama every night
I walk offstage, 'cause this whole play
Is more than I can take
I don't want it to be over, but we need a break
Before you break my heart
Oh, we can't live this scene forever
Right now, you and me are better, better off apart…"

–INTERMISSION

The last few hours were nothing but a crazy blur to Kendall, and somehow he preferred to keep it that way.

It was rather late in the evening, the night's foggy indigo horizon gently illuminated by both dazzling city lights and a muted smattering of stars, and the passing cool breeze very much a welcome repose from the suffocating atmosphere of their apartment room. But the troubled teenager simply wasn't in the mood to appreciate Los Angeles' tranquil nocturnal scenery.

Instead, he sat quietly brooding by the edge of their housing complex's desolate pool, making tiny ripples in the water as he subconsciously dipped his bare toes in it, feeling incredibly guilty and mentally disjointed.

That day had been nothing but a huge disaster for him.

Which, that alone was already saying a lot, considering that he was already disaster central enough as it is. Maybe not as much as Carlos or Logan—or Gretzky forbid, the both of those chaotic dorks' powers combined—but then again, this wasn't just damage to property over some stupid 'brilliant' plan turned disastrous, no. That, he could very much take. But this one damaged feelings and relationships, and it was the kind of damage that was just far too much to handle. Kendall knew he pushed the envelope way too far and ended up ripping through the mailbox.

Just ripped through the mailbox? Ha, more like torched it down, nuked the remains, and salted the earth with its ashes before catching fire yourself. You're already caught with your hands burned, you idiot, so who are you even trying to kid?

Pushing back the unkempt hair from his forehead, Kendall took a deep breath of the frigid California air and sighed it out slowly, in a lukewarm attempt to clear his racing thoughts.

Yet, after all the events that had transpired that night, even a simple task like that proved to be entirely impossible. Sure, maybe he could barely even remember all the things he had done and all the cruel words he spoke to everyone, if he was being completely honest with himself—perhaps his overwhelmingly burdened brain had thought it best to start blocking the whole fight out of his memory, one painful chunk at a time.

But fragmented recollection or not, Kendall's poisonous emotions still ran high and wild, and he couldn't even close his eyes for five seconds without getting attacked by his guilt, without imagining the searing look of disappointment on his friends' faces as he gracelessly walked out on them, without his intrusive thoughts making him want to jump right into the pool in the foolish hopes that he would simply dissolve and vanish completely, never to be seen again. Maybe he could, if he wished for it hard enough.

Listen to yourself, Kenny. You and your stupid kiddie talk. What in the world are you even thinking anymore?

At that point, Kendall wasn't really sure of anything at all. Nothing felt concrete to him. Reality was playing out like a slow motion fever dream, and he had never felt more cold...

He felt like a ghost, ready to fade away at a moment's notice.

Trying not to overthink again, Kendall tightened the laces on one of his bracelets until it started uncomfortably digging into his wrist, hoping that the pain from it would distract him just enough to bring him back down.

This action didn't bring him any quick relief, only made him feel more disgusted with himself (if that was still even possible at that point), but he still didn't stop; only scraped an elbow against slippery tile as he pulled and pulled, until the strings were as taut as his suffocated veins.

Kendall promised he'd never do this to himself again once, twice, a million times over, but oftentimes he found himself impulsively crawling back to this awful habit when the pain from outside was just...too much to take in. He had to allow some of it to leak out somehow, otherwise he was going to turn into an enraged Knight volcano and erupt and hurt someone else again, like he did just less than an hour ago.

But he was all alone now, and there was no one left to hurt but himself.

Hurting alone sucked. Kendall fought back the urge to go and see Jo, though he only sorely yearned to clamber up her balcony, knock on her window, and fall into her arms and finally have someone by his side; just so he could feel a little more fine, a little less miserable. And Jo would listen to him and comfort him and understand his situation, but she also wouldn't be afraid to give hard-to-swallow advice and use a little tough love if need be. Maybe that's all he truly needed. Some mollycoddling with a heap of tough love on the side, so that he could stop feeling pathetically sorry for himself and toughen up about it. And even just seeing Jo always made his stirring heart feel instantly better, no matter what...

But after the whole fiasco with Mr. Taylor during prom, and how he begrudgingly forgave her daughter's boyfriend—after a grueling round of harrowing interrogation and a promise made under duress to not cause any more problems for her sake—Kendall wasn't going to take that risk. Anyway, they've had a long day together, and Jo was probably already asleep to prep for her big New Town High press release day tomorrow with that schmuck Jett, so he shouldn't be troubling her anymore. He didn't want to get anyone else in trouble. He'd had enough of that for one night. And for the rest of his life, if he could help it. Which he clearly couldn't.

He was already wading in deeper waters after all, and just because he already had a lungful of seawater dragging him down, didn't mean he needed the rest of the world to drown with him.

Sinking in, and sinking fast...

At the very least, Kendall wished that he had the earlier initiative to bring his skateboard with him. No way would he sneak back into their apartment and risk running into his disgraced friends just to get it then, but taking his board out for a spin always helped to calm him down, made him feel floaty and free as he left everything else behind him even for a moment, it made him feel like he'd sprout wings at any moment lift his scuffed shoes off the ground and fly away; far, far away from everyone and everything, far away from the mess he made...

And if everything else fails, I could just kickflip myself off a cliff or something, actually earn those angel wings for real and save everyone the trouble.

He was being stupid again, that much he knew. But Kendall just really wanted to forget. He would do everything he had to, just to forget forget forget about everything. About stupid Griffin and Big Time Rush and LA and the rest of the horrible world. He wanted to forget about himself, most of all. And forget about James. James…

No...no! Don't think about him. Don't think about what you did to him. Don't even think about his name. Just don't. Please, don't...

The offbeat silence was killing him worse than the hurt, worse than the guilt, almost as worst as the pervading loneliness itself. The silence reminded him of the only one thing that was certain to him. Because as much as Kendall tried in vain to convince himself otherwise, he knew that everything was all his fault.

It was really nothing to be proud of, keeping something behind his friends' backs. It was something the sickest kind of pride couldn't salvage, a white lie with vicious teeth slowly cutting through chilled bones and infecting his entire system until he was ready to be branded a dirty traitor and strung up in the hanging tree, and by the people he loved most in the world, no less. Not to mention, it was a blatantly bad idea, plain and simple—possibly the worst idea he'd ever had in his entire life, and he was basically just a human treasure trove of really bad ideas. Even right then, he was overflowing to the brim so much that he couldn't even shut the lid on it.

Bad idea number one: keeping a huge secret. Bad idea number two: having that huge secret come out guns ablazing to shoot him in the butt and making his best friend(s) turn against him. And now bad idea number three: lying, lying, lying.

Kendall wasn't a liar by nature. He prided himself on honesty, because apart from the fact that lying was, well, in his mom's words, 'a very biiiiig bad no-no', it also seemed that every time he told a really terrible lie, his pants caught on fire. Not just figuratively, either—he still had an outstanding loaned-pants tab from a few people (even his mom, and a nonplussed Kelly that one time it happened at Rocque Records; the tightness of her stylish leggings turned him into the most un-x-ceptable dancer that day while Carlos snapped polaroids and Logan reveled in not getting to own the title for once) because of several spontaneous combustion incidents.

The moment he strode back into the Palm Woods with that heavy secret dragging down his shoulders and Jo asked him what was up, and he gave her the assurance that everything was completely fine, Kendall half-expected his stone-washed Levi's to get incinerated right off by Buddha Bob's blowtorch. But luckily for him, the bushy maintenance man was out with his inanimate best friend Plungie and working on a stubborn clogged drain in 4F. Camille's ornate Victorian wraith costume for some overplayed bro horror CW show though, complete with a pair of matching candelabras and fully-lit candles, came almost way too close for comfort...thank the stars her Logiekins walked by as a handy slapping diversion and saved my butt—literally!

Kendall released the bracelet string with a humourless snort. Then again, he didn't technically lie that time. Not really. He never lied about anything, because he never even gave himself the chance to say anything about it. It wasn't a loophole he was willing to exploit though, because even if it was lying to other people that made the vengeful hand of fate strike the match from under his seat, lying to himself still burned him from the inside out.

Liar, liar, mom pants on fire...

Barbequed jeans notwithstanding, during those past few months of grappling with this conundrum, Kendall still tried his best to hold everything in and ignore the uncomfortable feeling of remorse constantly flaring through his bothered conscience. He only ever allowed it some begrudged breathing room during his alone time (which there wasn't a lot of, anyway) and sometimes even his should-be sleep time; unwillingly joining alongside Logan's late night laptop vigils as he mulled it over and attempted reaching some kind of decision about it, until Carlos's muffled bear-like snoring from one room over lulled him back to some kind of restless oblivion. But he never really got around to any foreseeable results beyond waking up a half-dead zombie and always almost shambling late for Miss Collins' morning class, which would've effectively killed his one-and-a-half-year perfect attendance streak and made him lose a long-standing bet against his roommate.

But being late for some ASPA-mandated school time and a few lost dollars is the least of my problems now!

It wasn't really easy, being him. It was never easy, when he had to pretend to know what he was doing, even if he was already being jerked around, even if the situation was already way out of hand and the chances for redemption are slim to none, and it certainly would never get any easier from there.

But he was Kendall freaking Knight, for crying out loud. Pretending to know what he was doing in the worst situations was kinda his thing, it was almost cartoonishly ridiculous. He was Mr. Cool Rush, acting leader of both their Peewee hockey team and the band, lord of the pep talks, and he'd been faithfully keeping up and championing this noble shtick ever since his diapered self got to watch RadioAction Heroes on Kidzie channel, and wanted to become like the fearless main character who rallied up his powerful team and always saved the day. The way his dad tied a towel cape around his neck and lifted his chubby giggling self up while announcing "Super-Kenno!" in that booming voice of his, as his mom smiled and lovingly shook her head at them, it made Kendall believe he could truly make a difference...

But there was no one to lift him up now. And even if all that was just a childish pipe dream in the end, Kendall had to realise what he was getting himself into, at least. He was old enough to be sensible. I have been old enough ever since I was barely seven, so why am I acting so immature now?

Because this wasn't the super-futuristic fictional city of Heropolis. This was real life—nevermind that they were also in the over-burnished nonfictional city of faking everything—and real life meant that if he got too cocky and tried to play the hero one too many times, he'd only end up being either the villain or the victim in the end. And even if he had any superpowers, it would probably only ever amount to causing all kinds of trouble in a mask and a discount hockey uniform and making up stupid holier-than-thou speeches about it as the city went down in flames. And who would take wanna that seriously?

Radioactive hero, villain or victim, doomsday bringer, swimming with the fishes, taking off and falling away, a teen heartthrob-version of Icarus, a dirty liar and a traitor and a ghost, Kendall's head was choking up with garbage identities to cope with the dumpster demolition he caused, and because what? Just so he could find someone else to pin the blame on, even if it was just some whacked-out split personality of himself? Blame was still blame, whoever, or whatever, he turned out to be. Kendall Knight was still Kendall Knight, even if he was Gustavo's dog or a slapshot superhero or a hairy werewolf or the biggest moron in the world.

Seriously, just who exactly am I trying to freaking kid right now? Myself? Ha. It's like the only thing I have left to do, and I can't even do that one right.

Because Kendall Knight was still the person James Diamond hated, no matter who he pretended or didn't pretend to be.

That conviction found its way back to his ill-treated wrists again. Lie and not-lie as he might to himself and everyone else, it wouldn't make much of a difference anyway, it only made him twice the lying jerkface he already was—Jerkface, definitely add that to the growing list—Kendall knew that his stymied decision-making for this complicated state of affairs wasn't really much of 'a' decision. It was really just a cop-out tactic, a pathetic excuse, enough indecisiveness to give Logan a run for his bank-deposited betting money. It should have been fine. It would have been fine. After all, he still had time, didn't he?

Yeah, time to take the plunge and screw things up a whole lot worse...

As those previous weeks passed by in heatwave dazes and breathless fathoms, and Big Time Rush had more and more things piled up on their already-teetering schedules, and life steadily went on around him and for everyone else, Kendall had somehow managed to push the daunting secret around from his subconscious enough to spread it thin, so he could at least pretend to himself that he had forgotten all about it.

But somewhere at the very back of his mind, the lingering compunction still remained, an almost visceral nagging sensation that the ball had to drop soon, and he knew that he couldn't keep it from smashing his idiot blond head in forever, one way or another.

Liar, liar, idiot on fire...

The dreadful feeling was simply unshakeable. Doing what he had done, even if it had seemed like the most sensible thing to him at the time, still felt extremely wrong to Kendall. He hated keeping secrets. He hated lying. He especially hated keeping secrets and lying to his best friends, and he didn't know how much longer he could bear waiting around for that final comedown. But he had gone too far in and at that point, there was really no more turning back from it. He either had to face the music, or take it to his grave.

The music stopped playing the moment I walked away from my best friends and out of that room. But I could still go the other way and jump in, since I dug this stupid hole for myself anyhow—

And if I did, then maybe James would actually forgive me...

Snapping out of his pessimistic reverie, Kendall vacantly stared at his purpling wrist and pressed down on it harder, until his fingers involuntarily twitched in protest, and trapped blood clotted into discoloured bruises, and the unmistakable vitriol desperately clawing its way from under his chest was replaced by nothing but numbing hurt. Too little...too late. Even if he scorched every pair of pants he ever owned and even threw some extra sacrificial underwear into the pillar of fire to atone for his worst mistake, he couldn't ever take anything back, and he certainly couldn't choose anymore.

Because life, it seemed, had already decided for him.

Before the inciting incident, everything had been playing out in such a normal manner (well, at least as normal as their crazy lives could get). After an entire grueling week of writing and recording songs for Big Time Rush's sophomore album All Over Again, merciless hours-long practice sessions to learn new x-tensive choreography with their strict dance instructor Mr. X, and causing their loudmouthed manager and music producer's blood pressure to skyrocket more than a few times with their constant antics as usual, Gustavo Rocque was finally convinced by Kelly Wainwright to loosen up their boyband schedules a bit and allow the overworked dogs a full weekend of rest; albeit rather begrudgingly on his part. But overall, it was supposed to be a peaceful stretch of several days for all of them.

At least, until it got completely ruined by a cursed piece of paper.

That stupid freaking letter…

Slow Saturday. It was yet another beautiful and sunny afternoon in Los Angeles.

Living up to its unofficial title of 'the home for the future famous', the Palm Woods apartments was bustling with all sorts of people of all talents; from eager young stars hurrying over to their next auditions and rehearsing lines in the lobby, to musicians of varying genres drowning out each other with practice, to other illustrious holiday-goers, sojourning tourists, and longtime tenants alike simply looking out to relax, have some fun, and beat the heat at the swimming pool. Meanwhile, the occupants of Apartment 2J were out spending their leisure time separately and as they pleased.

Mrs. Knight and Katie had travelled to the next city over, so that the mother and daughter duo could have a well-needed rest & relaxation getaway for the weekend. Carlos headed out with fistfuls of piggy bank money to go grocery shopping at their local SelMart and replenish his depleted emergency food stash. Logan had taken solace in their crib's living room, occasionally pausing to nibble at some cookies and take a sip at a mixed berry-flavoured Juice Box while he finished up his reading of The Grand Design by Stephen Hawking and Leonard Mlodinow. Finally, James was in his and Carlos's room, dressing up and getting himself ready for some kind of urgent excursion.

As for Kendall, he had spent most of the day with Jo Taylor during one of her ultra-rare rest days from taping New Town High and doing interviews alongside annoying Jett Stetson, as well as other annoying agent-booked engagements. The two of them decided to hang out at the park on a sneaky picnic date—far away from her co-star's sleazy preying wiles, the meddling paparazzi, and most importantly, from her scary, overbearing, Marine and CIA-trained dad.

The young couple were having a great time sharing pink and blue his-and-her-themed smoothies (the pink one was Kendall's, of course, much to his girlfriend's mild disgruntlement), serenading the filtered sun and singing the cheesiest girl-titled songs from Gustavo's wall of platinum records at the top of their lungs (Jo sounding like the very angel who conceived singing, while his boyfriend expertly strummed the guitar and basked in pure awe of her), and generally just catching up, telling amusing stories about their respective work experiences, and having a laugh with each other.

Everything was fantastic, wispy clouds lazily rolling past them, sugary Gummie Buggies making their grinning teeth tingle, the breath of the world light and warm on their closely-hugged shoulders, and it felt as if nothing could ever take that whimsical moment away from Kendall and Jo…

That is, up until Camille Roberts returned from her Rickshaw Cops: Reloaded audition early and dragged her best friend away, so that they could go do some shopping for their next girls night out with the three Jennifers. The aspiring actress had even gone so far as to employ the Colossal Studios' veteran driver, who was holding up a whiteboard sign with "mall time!" scribbled on it as he passively waited by the open door of Jo's limousine.

With a Velvet Rose-enveloped hug and a goodbye kiss from Jo, frisky cheek-pinches from Camille as she told Kendall to "say hi to Logiekins and the other boys for me!", and one last surprise pull of his girlfriend's hand to give her an almost-forgotten goodbye kiss, the teenagers amicably parted ways, and Kendall made a move to clear up the decorated girly picnic he set up for their day out.

He could finally chalk that up to one successful date under his wing, at least.

But despite this achievement, it seemed that Kendall's afternoon wasn't quite over just yet. Once he arrived at the Palm Woods pool area to 'return' some 'borrowed' picnic items to Mr. Bitters' 'locked' supply closet, he instead found himself getting tossed some skimpy Speedos and getting tossed right into the pool to participate in a round of water volleyball with a few other casual friends.

He initially wasn't all too keen to take an unplanned swim and get caught by their crabby apartment manager pants down (in more ways than one), but one of the teams pleaded him to take the place of Guitar Dude and avenge him, because their former teammate sprained his right wrist (or as he had upsetly put it, "nooo, not my super freakin' pickin' hand!") due to a clumsy ball serve and had to sit out the rest of the game. And Kendall had to admit, he did have quite a splashing time taking on the challenge—even if the new girl in Palm Woods turned out to be a stellar beach ball spiker, which made their team end up badly losing to hers 5-1. He still thought she was nice though, in an 'I have a girlfriend whom I love and adore very much, but I also have best friends who are very much available even if they aren't here to fist bump me and fight for your attention' kind of way.

Afterwards, Kendall opted to return to their crib, feeling very much content, but also quite tired out and famished. He had planned to shower off the smelly pool water, have some of his mom's special super chocolatey chocolate chip cookies (that is, if Carlitos hadn't devoured the whole trayful yet before he left) along with a cold glass of orange punch, and finally wind down on the couch and watch some nice, relaxing evening TV. Kendall heard that Witches of Rodeo Drive was airing its third season's finale tonight, and he really wanted to catch up with his favourite guilty pleasure show.

In the end, he managed to do exactly none of those things.

As soon as Kendall entered their apartment, he set down his acoustic guitar to lean by the dinner table and walked across the living room to grab a fresh towel for wiping his damp hair. But before he could finish his short trip, someone quickly made their way down from the apartment room's yellow swirly slide and nearly collided feet-first with him.

"Hey—!"

"Oh, sorry Kendall, I didn't see you there." James muttered distractedly as he clambered out of the slide chute, only pausing to smooth out some creases on his clothes. "Well, I kinda did but I didn't really care, whatever. Anyway, I gotta go."

"Wait, where are you going?"

Ignoring the question and sidestepping his confounded friend, James had gone no more than a few paces when he stopped again to sniff the air cautiously, confusing Kendall even further.

"Wait—almost forgot…"

He then took out a matte black and blue spray can labeled 'Cuda Sunrise Breeze Man Spray' and spritzed liberal amounts of the pungent stuff all over himself, causing Kendall's eyes to water and his throat to burn as he held his breath and whipped his arms around, trying to fan the overpowering perfume cloud away from him.

After whipping his neck towards an imaginary camera and announcing, "Better wear your 'Cuda!", James proceeded to repocket his man spray, slicked back his hair and winked at a nearby mirror, and pointed cheeky finger guns at the viciously-coughing Kendall.

"Okay, now I'm ready to rock." He said, giving the younger boy a couple of quick pats on the cheek. "Later, dude!"

"Hey, it—it's a lazy weekend afternoon Jay, so...what's the—ech—what's the rush?" Kendall inquired in between catching his breaths.

"Well, it all started when I was in our room, preparing my clothes and styling my hair because I have some modelling appointments at 5:30…" James craned his neck upwards and stared off wistfully into the ceiling, as if looking at an imaginary flashback.

"Because LA agencies have been getting more and more demanding and my hot young doctor, sassy speed skater, saucy lumberjack, and athletic dog trainer eight by ten personalised headshots," he pulled out every mentioned photo from his jacket in succession to show it to Kendall, "just aren't cutting it anymore, so I needed to get new ones, and they had to be good. Like, reeeal good. The face of—well, my face depends on it!"

"...Right." said Kendall inattentively. "Can we just get to the part where, you know, you actually start doing something interesting?"

"The disrespect." James grumbled back, but he acquiesced anyway.

"So after I was done changing into the most perfect glamorous outfit," he rambled on, not appearing to notice Kendall intently studying the purple bandana tied around his head—paired alongside a rhinestone-studded bolero jacket, snakeskin-print pants, and a pink scarf—with contentious eyes, "I checked myself in the mirror and found some stray locks of hair sticking up at the back, which was a total emergency that needed to be fixed ASAP! So I quickly reached for my lucky comb before the situation turned bad...but then suddenly...there it was. Sitting right there, on my vanity dresser, was a piece of folded paper. So I reached for it, my hands shaking with curiosity. And…"

"And?"

"Shhhh, I'm getting there! Ugh, you're such a mood killer..." James rolled his eyes haughtily. "Anyway, I took the paper and started kinda skimming over it, and apparently it was a letter from Griffin's company to me—I guess I got it like maybe a month ago or something? But like, I don't even remember getting it at all."

"Oh...really...what was it about?"

"I honestly don't really know. It has too many boring words for me to understand, so I guess I probably just ditched it and forgot all about it when I got it, and that's why I never really thought much about it until now."

"I uh, I guess that's kinda weird." Kendall's bushy eyebrows knitted together. "But why care about it now, though? Or like, ever?"

"I dunno, I got bored while waiting for the hair mousse to fully set in after fixing my hair emergency and it was just kinda sitting there, looking all...mysterious and papery—I couldn't help but pick it up!" James shrugged. "But trying to read it again made me feel super dizzy, so I've actually been looking for Logan to translate it to me before I leave. No luck though. Have you seen him?"

"No, he ummm, he went...out?" deflected Kendall. "Far away, very far away probably—oh you know our little ol' Loganator, always up to no good here and there and somewhere but nowhere! So here, let me just take that letter instead…"

"I'm right here!" Logan's head popped up from underneath one of their bright orange couches, making his two friends shriek and grab at each other in surprise.

"What? I was just rigging up our sofa with new cushions with extra padding and reinforced heavy-duty tensile strength, for maximum comfort and springiness!" He frowned at them. "All your butts have been wearing it so thin, I could feel the springs poking into mine whenever I sit and it hurts. And it totally interrupted my reading! Just as I was getting to the exciting part of the book too, where Professor Hawking was starting to explain about the eleven-dimensional M-theory—"

"Yeah, whatever, professor geekzo." James cut in. "That doesn't matter. I have another word page thingy for you to read!" He stuck the paper out of Kendall's desperate reach and waved it in front of Logan's face.

"What's that? A research abstract?"

"I'm not even gonna ask what that means." James shook his head. "It's an old letter from Griffin. Or from one of his robotic employees. Or from his hokey company—I'm not actually sure, but their giant logo and my name is printed on there and that's all I really know about it."

Logan ditched the tools he was holding, sneezed once and excused himself, and courteously took the paper from his friend. With a generous clear of his throat, he started to recite its contents aloud.

"Let's see, let's see here…Dear Mr. James Isaac Diamond, your personal profile and credentials (courtesy of Rocque Records' exclusive documents) have been thoroughly assessed and reviewed by various professionals, as well as other prodigious associates of RCM-CBT GlobalNet Sanyoid Corporation—"

"Yeah, yeah, I've seen that part before and it made me wanna puke, so skip to the important parts, please!" James impatiently said.

"Wait! Before you go on, I just wanna say something…" Kendall tried to cut in, but he was only met with loud shushing from James; and by then, Logan had already hurried along with his dictation.

"Taking your remarkable talents, naturally attractive appearance, and fundamental penchant for confidence and aplomb—along with other possible further untapped potential—into consideration, we have therefore arrived to the conclusion that you are the most eligible person to be flown over to South America and take permanent residence there, as you shall be trained and prepared by a carefully-selected team of our most qualified superstardom experts. All of which shall be the crucial initial steps in launching your highly-prolific artistic career, completely separate from your current membership in the musical group Big Time Rush, in the coming years. All necessary documents, arrangements, and other inclusive expenses shall primarily be taken care of and paid for, courtesy of the RCM-CBT GlobalNet Sanyoid Corporation."

Logan blanched as he finished reading the rest of the letter, nearly dropping it in astonishment. "Oh. Oh my gosh."

"Yeah, I know...I'm pretty shocked too, buddy." James misunderstood his amazed reaction and gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. "That was a lot of giant brain-melting words, even for you, huh?"

"No." Logan shook his head in disbelief. "No, this—this is…"

"Why, what is it? What does it mean?"

"James...they have chosen you for this superstar camp thing in—in South America, I think? And just you, without the rest of Big Time Rush...with—without us, I mean. They were going to send you out there to live so they could train you, to...I think, to prepare you for a fully-fledged solo career...if, if I wasn't reading it wrong…"

"What?!" James scrambled to snatch the paper from Logan. "Are you serious? When is it?!"

"The deadline for acceptance was—was...it was the 21st. Which was two weeks ago." Logan reluctantly delivered the bad news. "I'm so sorry, James."

"Hockey sticks!" James crumpled up the paper and hurled it onto the lime-green wall, apoplectic with rage. "Why didn't that idiot Griffin just freaking call me in and tell me about this himself?! He knows I hate reading stupid-looking letters from his stupid company! But like, I totally would've given him my answer in time, if I only knew!"

He blurted out another frustrated "Darn it!" before disappointedly collapsing onto their gutted couch—and instantly jumping back up, as he had accidentally sat on an exposed spring.

"LOGAN!" James exploded, making the frightened boy scamper behind Kendall. "Freaking put our stupid couch back together so I could lie down on it facefirst and be properly sad, for crying out loud!"

"Okay, okay...deep breaths, James." Kendall gently told him, laying his own hands palms-down and slowly lowering them to soothe his friend. "I know that it sucks and I'm really sorry to hear that bad news, but you're not gonna solve the problem by beating yourself up or anyone else over it. So just take it easy, and...calm down for a moment, okay?"

Biting his lower lip, James closed his eyes and took a couple of careful breaths in and out, as Kendall had instructed.

"Are you good?"

"Yeah…" James suddenly realised something. "Hey, wait a second. Before Logan finished reading that letter, you tried to stop him. You said that you had something to say."

"Did—did I?" A nervous laugh escaped Kendall's lips before he could stop himself. "Weeell, I was just gonna say that...there are—there are fresh super chocolatey chocolate chip cookies in the oven that my mom baked before she and Katie left and you better grab some before I um, I gobble it all up, that's all, haha!"

James dryly stared at him, evidently unconvinced, and Logan couldn't do anything but feel the palpable tension rise as he quietly watched the event unfold, his eyes anxiously darting back and forth between his two friends as if he was spectating a breakneck tennis match.

"Kendall Donald Knight, you are the worstest horriblest liar faker actor in the world. So quit playing around and tell us what's really going on."

"Say wha—? Nothing! Nothing's going on, that's what!"

"I don't believe that for a second! You were already acting super suspicious when I first mentioned the letter, and now you're all weirdly sweaty and giddy and you literally look like you're five seconds away from peeing your pants for no reason at all…"

"Hey, you'd get wigged out too, if one of your best friend's suddenly yelling in your face and accusing you of something you don't even know anything about!"

"Oh yeah? You 'don't know' anything about this? Is that why you also interrupted Logan right before he got to the part where he told us about the superstar camp thing that was supposed to be for me, huh?" goaded James. "And now you wouldn't even tell me that super-important 'something' you had to say anymore? 'Cause why wouldn't you, unless you maybe knew something was up with this—unless…"

Though he said nothing, Kendall's left eye twitched as his eyebrow drooped imperceptibly, barely there but there, and his most damning telltale sign was all James needed to see for confirmation.

"You did, didn't you?! You really knew about Griffin's plan all along?" He marched up to Kendall and swiftly grabbed him by his shirt collar. "Did you? Why didn't you tell me about it?!"

"Woah woah woah J-James, easy out!" Logan tried to break them up, but James abruptly held up a stiff hand in front of Logan's face to silence him.

"Stay out of it!" He warned, his glowering eyes still firmly latched onto Kendall. "And you. Answer my question. Did. You. Know about this?"

With every word, he hoisted his helpless friend higher and higher, until Kendall started feeling a little short of air and the toes of his checkered Vans were barely grazing the carpeted floor.

"James, stop it, you're—you're gonna c-choke him!"

"Not until he fesses up!"

"But—but—"

"And you better get back to your stupid word pages or you're next, so beat it, Logan!"

"Leave—him—alone!" Kendall's face was violently heliotrope as he struggled against James' tightening grip. "Y-yes!"

"WHAT?!"

"I did, okay?! Know about that—the thing in that letter, I've known for months now!" he shrilly confessed. "Griffin called me into his office last April and told me all about it and he told me to tell you but I just...I didn't—I forgot, okay!"

"That's such a lame excuse! How could you forget about something as important as this?!" James fumed, finally releasing Kendall from his grasp. The spluttering boy collapsed to the floor with a deadened thud, and Logan rushed over to help him up. "I've been your friend for literally our whole lives, Kendall, I know you're not the forgetful type. Don't take me for an idiot!"

"I'm not, I swear, I'm really sorry, I—" Kendall covered his face with both hands and exhaled hard. "I was going to tell you, I just...I didn't know how to, yet...oh, and Griffin also told me not to say a word to anyone or else I'd get in serious grown-up legal trouble, and like, I didn't wanna risk doing that, and just, then the months passed by and we all got so busy with our band and lots of other stuff and—and…"

"And what?!"

"And I...I kinda, didn't really wanna have to...talk to you...about it?"

Even Logan looked stunned at his consequent admission. "Kendall, w-why would you…?"

"I guess I was just hoping...I was kinda hoping that you guys would never have to find out about it, so that you wouldn't have to get sucked into Griffin's crazy mind games like I did...and then maybe Griffin would also realise that none of us are interested in his whole idiotic stardom plan and he could forget about it, and go dump it for some other shady, convoluted, get-richer-than-rich-quick scheme he has for his company. With his short attention span that's worse than a baby Litos getting bored in daycare, I was hoping...like really reeeally hoping that it would maybe, just maybe, actually work..."

"Unbelievable." James turned away in disgust. "So that was your plan? You seriously thought it would be better if you just straight-up lied to me? To all of us? Good one. Great job, Knight." He started mock-clapping. "Great job of ruining things for me!"

"Hey, I just said I wasn't allowed to say a thing to literally anyone else—and I never lied to you!"

"Yeah, but you never told me the truth and that's even worse! Like seriously, why did you even think it would be a good idea to hide it from me, Kendall? Why not just, ohhh I don't know, maybe tell me about it so we could at least talk it over and figure something out together?"

"I...uh," Kendall shiftily glanced away. "I'm—it's—b-because…"

"Because what?"

"It's..."

"What, cat got your mouth again? Oh, please, where's all that big talk you're so great at all of a sudden, huh? Because what?!"

"I'll talk if only you'll let me!" snapped Kendall. "And it's because, you...you've kinda done something like this before, and—and it almost broke us up…!"

James blinked slowly at him. "What...what are you talking about?"

"That time our very first album release and concert tour got almost cancelled, remember? We had to go back home to Minnesota after that, and then you got really mad at us for not wanting to try again. And when we tried to reach you, you'd already jumped ship to Hawk Records." Kendall explained. "And—and when the band managed to get actually back together thanks to Kelly and Gustavo's efforts, you didn't even wanna go back with us, even after everything they had sacrificed—I mean, the man sold literally everything just to get us back, including his whole studio and all his mansions, James, Mr. grouchy-faced Gustavo Rocque out of people, caring about us enough to do that—but...you, you didn't even rejoin us up until the very last minute, and I honestly really thought Big Time Rush was gonna be history there!"

"So? What does that have to do with anything?"

"I don't know...I don't know why, but I just had crazy flashbacks of that after Griffin talked to me and I—I don't know, I just panicked! I got scared..." Kendall's voice turned brittle. "I got really scared that maybe this time, you were gonna leave us behind, and it would finally be for real."

"Yeah, but I came back in the end, didn't I? That whole stupid Hawk thing's already so old news by now that the man's literally serving time in jail, Kendall, my gosh." James snorted, affronted by his insinuation. "And anyway, this is a totally different thing than that!"

"I know, I know, I just—I couldn't find the right time to break the news to you—"

"Anytime! Literally anytime at all in the last few months is better than never telling me about it! Didn't you always use to say that opportunities like these come once in a lifetime? But still, you've wasted my opportunity behind my back! Like what gives?!"

"I didn't—"

James and Kendall's heated argument was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a slamming door.

"Guess who just snagged some more bottles of sweeeet Zom-B-Gon!" Carlos cheered out as he marched into the crib, holding up his prized drink's bottles while he juggled the rest of his stuffed grocery bags with one forearm. "And before you guys say anything, yes, I know it's currently banned in forty-seven states including Cali, buuut this weird-looking fisherman dude was selling cartons from the back of his broken-down truck and a certain lucky someone—which is me, check it!—just so happened to pass by it while they were walking home, aaaand—"

He noticed everyone's agitated expressions and screeched dead in his tracks. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Why don't you," James pointed accusingly at Kendall, "Ask him?"

Warily placing the grocery bags and bottles of green soda on the counter with a loud clink, Carlos plopped down on one of the stools and spun it around one too many times, before managing to stop his mini-revolution and facing his youngest friend.

"Ken-ken…?"

"You see, Carlos—this one letter...no, nevermind that, but James, he basically...Griffin was going to send him away to live in South America." he timidly informed. "So that he could properly train to be a superstar, and then also possibly launch an entire solo career there."

"What? Really?! Heyyy congratulations bud, that's great news!" Carlos said, but his ill-placed enthusiasm was only met with three pairs of sombre eyes giving him the most nerve-wracking staredown of his life.

"I-isn't it...?" Perplexed, he looked blankly at Kendall, then over to the reprehensive James, and finally at Logan, who folded both arms beneath his chest as he ruefully shook his head.

"Yeah, it 'was'," snarled James, "but now my chance to do that is completely ruined, thanks to Kendall!"

"He was going to break us apart…" Kendall's voice rose, "he was going to send you away! And who knows for how long? For a month? A year? For the rest of our lives? Will we ever even see you again? Or are you just gonna get super busy getting super famous there and replace us with more sold-out venues and big-name celebrities until you forget we even exist?"

"Wow, do you really think that badly of me...?" James trailed off, his flashing eyes betraying a wounded ire. "And—and why couldn't you let me decide those things for myself? This is my future we're talking about, Kendall, not just yours!"

"Hah, I think you're forgetting something—Logan and Carlos? Heck, even Gustavo and Kelly, and my family? And Big Time Rush? You know, our band? What we've been working for this whole time? It's not just about you and me, you know! You break out, and the band doesn't work and might even break up if like, things take a turn for the worse, and Rocque Records loses Big Time Rush again, and the rest of us—our new album, our shows, our fans, and everything else we've all been aiming for and trying our very best to achieve—are pretty much done for. I'm not trying to be selfish here, I'm just trying to think practically!"

"And your practical thinking about us didn't actually include us? Our opinions? What we," James motioned towards him and his two other friends, "think about the whole situation? Why, because you think we're too stupid to think for it ourselves? You think that just because you're our 'leader', that—that because you're Gustavo Rocque's number one dancing dog, that makes you so much smarter, so much better than the rest of us?"

"That's not—!" Kendall's fists clenched at his sides, and it took all of his restraint not to strangle James at that very moment. He took a measured breath to calm himself before responding in a deliberately even tone, "That's not true. That's not what I think at all."

"Then what?!" James demanded. When his younger friend failed to provide an immediate answer, he let out a cold laugh and slugged his fist on the dome hockey, making Logan flinch away. "I can't take this anymore! You're always getting all up in our business like you're some kinda annoying guardian angel or something and I'm getting sick of it! Stop acting like we're still little kids who need constant watching, and stop getting in our way!"

"Well I wouldn't need to, if you didn't keep acting like a little selfish kid who keeps getting in trouble and dragging us along with you!" Kendall interjected hotly.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't be dragging you with me this time, you moron!" hissed James. "You know what I think? I think that you're just jealous! Yeah, you're jealous that I'm the one who got picked for this, and not you! That's why you didn't tell me about this—why you didn't want me or any of us finding out about it!"

"Oh now that's funny—like why would I ever be jealous of anyone picked to be Arthur Griffin's fake, overcontrolled, foreign cash-grab superstar puppet?"

"A super rich and super famous superstar puppet!"

"What, Big Time Rush not cutting it for you anymore? Hollywood too small time for you? Are your best friends just getting in your way now? Huh...well, I'm so sorry that our biggest dreams in life extend beyond just wanting to be some nutty kajillionaire's personal human wallet liner!"

Upon hearing Kendall's viciously candid proclamation, James cracked his knuckles and began aggressively advancing towards him again. Sensing that the situation was getting way out of hand insanely quick, Carlos jumped out of his seat and deftly stepped in between the two riled boys, shooting them both an unconvincing smile.

"Hey uh guys, why don't we just all chill out for a moment...and—and think nice happy thoughts!" he said, slapping one palm against his helmet, "like y'know, adorable puppies, and fluffy kittens, ooh—frogs with tiny hats, that's my favourite, and, a-and—"

"Carlos," Kendall sharply interrupted, "if you could just, for once in your life, act serious, please. This isn't a joke."

"Hey, leave him out of this!" James growled back as he protectively pushed their oldest friend aside, "this matter is strictly between you and me!"

For his part, Kendall immediately regretted his harsh words. "Sorry, I...I'm really sorry, Los." He apologised with a heavy sigh. "I don't know what came over me...I didn't mean to say that to you…"

"Uh, nah, it's fine Ken, I—"

"Oh sure," James rolled his eyes at Carlos, "just go and side with Kendall like you always do, even when he's already out for everyone's frigging throats! Yeah, okay, great, thanks for the support, helmet head—and oh, you're welcome, by the way..." He ejected a breathy laugh and kicked the side of the kitchen counter, toppling over the Zom-B-Gon! bottles. "Come on, man!"

Carlos opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it again, taking it as his cue to keep out of it and stay quiet. So instead, he pursed his lips, hung his head, and morosely shied himself away from the both of them, stifling a sneeze and his sniffles as he fell back alongside an equally-apprehensive Logan.

"Now who's not leaving Carlos out of it?" said Kendall pointedly.

"Hey, I'm just trying to keep him out of your way, before you go and yell at him some more." James shot back, "or who knows, maybe even do something incredibly stupid behind his back and ruin his whole freaking life!"

"You fu...no, you know what? Whatever. I give up. I give up! Trying to reason with you is clearly useless! All I wanted to do was to have some time to think about this until I could at least make the right decisions for it—"

"Yeah?" James' sneer was dangerously serrated. "Well you just made things a lot worse!"

"Yeah, because that's all I am, right?! A big fat freaking buzzkill who makes everything worse, sure." Kendall scoffed bitterly. "Really, I'm so sorry that I care about you! That I want to help you out! That I only wanted the best for us! I just wanted to save us the trouble—"

"You can't save everyone!"

James' nasty statement stung Kendall's every last nerve end. They sliced through his dithery bones, wrapped around his jackhammering chest a thousand times over, and pulled relentlessly until his heart felt like it was about to explode inside of him.

"Well? Say something!" the brunet crossed his arms as he continued to taunt him. "Spin up a stupid plan that's gonna fail hard and then make a stupid grand speech about how it's not your fault even when it is, and how everything's gonna be fine even when it's clearly not, and—and just keep being such a total control freak who messes up our lives for us big time, like you always do! Because that's all you ever really do!"

"I…"

That ever-familiar presence of pure rage reappeared without warning, making Kendall dizzy with anger and threatening to take over his senses. He gritted his teeth and dug his nails into his palms until it engraved pale crescent marks, trying to calm himself down.

Deep breaths, Kenny. Count down. Control yourself. 3...2...

"T-that's a bit too harsh, James...you know Kendall didn't m-mean to make you mad. You know he—he means well..." Logan defended, his voice barely coherent from shakiness, but the taller boy refused to hear him out.

"And you can't keep talking him out of trouble every time he digs another hole for himself!" He jabbed a harsh finger at Logan. "Seriously, even after hearing what he's done? How he's lied to me—no, not just to me, but to all of us, actually?! You don't owe him anything, Logan!"

"I-I'm, I'm not trying t-to—"

"Whose side are you on here, anyway?" demanded James. "Well? Go on, tell us!"

"I—I'm—he, yours...maybe I just...I—I don't know, okay?!" Logan shouted back, pressing both hands to his ears. "I don't know anymore!"

"Oh yeah? If you aren't gonna say anything helpful, just do everyone a favour and shut up!"

1.

Kendall completely lost it. He bellowed out a roar as he wildly launched himself at James, and the two of them went down together, kicking and screaming and grabbing and throwing fists at each other. It took all of Carlos and Logan's strength combined to keep their quarreling friends away as they attempted to intervene, and several sizable hits were unfortunately landed before the two boys finally managed to wrench them apart.

It wasn't one of their usual playful roughhousing sessions, that much was clear. By the very end of it, Kendall nursed a black eye, a split lip, and a few minor cuts on his chin, while James struggled to wipe away the blood steadily trickling from his bent nose using a ball of wadded-up tissue that Carlos had handed him.

"You know what, forget this! I'm not talking to you until you apologise—and now I'm gonna have to straighten this whole thing out by myself, so thanks a lot!" James spat out, his conviction muffled by the bloody tissue. "And if you permanently ruined my face, I swear—I frigging swear!—I'm gonna make your whole life a living misery!"

Kendall didn't seem the least bit phased at his threat.

"Oh, grow the hell up, Diamond. Not everything is about you and your dumb face."

James visibly reeled at the blunt reply, looking completely shaken up for the first time in their argument. "Yeah? Well…" he faltered.

"You're dumb!" he spluttered indignantly. And with a final burst of outrage, James roughly shoved Kendall away and stormed back in his room, slamming the door with such immense force that it made the apartment walls shake, knocked the Knights' hanged family photo askew, caused some of their owned robot display figurines to tumble off the shelf, and dislodged Kendall's acoustic guitar as it crashed down with an ironic twanging sound effect. It even made Logan trip back on his feet in shock, with Carlos's agile grip barely managing to deter his fall.

Only the faintest trace of 'Cuda Sunrise Breeze was left trailing in James' wake.

No one moved. No one knew what to do. Carlos and Logan stood clutching unsurely at each other, breaths hitched and stillness matched, looking at their remaining friend for answers.

Kendall should have felt victorious right there and then, but he only felt empty. Disgusted with himself, even. James was still his friend, after all. The friend he had deceived. And still, he said all those horrible things to James, and he had even hurt him, all because he just couldn't control his anger. Again.

Kenny...what have you done?

He felt like the walls of the room were quickly closing in on him, and he couldn't stand it anymore. He needed to think. He needed to breathe.

"I'm uh...I'm just gonna head out...somewhere." Kendall feebly excused himself. Anywhere but here. "I just really need some fresh air."

Logan was reasonably concerned. "But Kendall, your wounds—"

"This is nothing. I'll be fine, Loges." he waved it off and tried to give them a reassuring smile, but ended up wincing as his busted lip started bleeding again. "I just—I just really need to be alone right now. Sorry...you guys take care now. I'm so sorry."

Turning away from the two boys, Kendall grabbed his beanie and a flannel shirt hanging from the coat rack by the entryway, and briskly left the crib without saying anything else.

Carlos looked sadly at the closed door, and back at his upset friend.

"Logie...I'm scared. What do we do now?"

Logan just shook his head in response, fighting away tears as he wordlessly draped an arm over Carlos's shoulders to comfort him.

He didn't really know either.

(a/n: fuCk okay so I know I said no more author's notes but just anxjldjksi I reedited the first bit with Kendall so much that I kinda resent it? It just feels like such a mess and idk how else to save it but to stop before I keep bloating it some more. I just hope it still makes *some* kinda sense T-T Also! I'm trying to keep this fic as show-clean as possible, so my main justification for Kendall dropping the h-bomb is that he was the one who sang the lyric "let this all go through hell" in Music Sounds Better and also I guess for ~impact~ And tbh if anyone's ever allowed a curse word pass in the show, it should've been him (or Gustavo, but that would instantly ramp up the content rating to R lmao). The chapters will also have a tendency to be quite long, tangenty, and internal monologue-heavy, just a little caveat. But I hope this was an alright chapter to start with, nonetheless?)