Hey y'all! New chapter, this one is dedicated to (Guest) for the request! And, I mean, what better request is there? It's Logan having a panic attack, and as you all know, that's my favorite thing to write. So, this should be fun, I hope it's good. This was supposed to be up hours ago, but I was too busy talking to my friend about Logan Henderson. Happy reading! Enjoy!

He didn't think he was doing as horribly as Gustavo was telling him. Logan wasn't the best sight reader, not the first time, but he was getting better at reading music. And by the third time in the sound booth, he thought he was pretty solid. He was apparently wrong, even though he didn't understand how he could be. He knew the song inside and out. He was prepared.

Gustavo obviously did not think so. "Logan! You're not loud enough, do you even know these harmonies? I bet a real dog has better memorization skills than you."

Logan pulled off his headset and nodded sharply, surprised but not too shocked that it seemed all his hard work had gone to waste. He put his headset back on, and started again. Gustavo stopped him, holding up a hand to signify this.

"I know you can't sing and I know you can't dance, but can you at least come in on time? From the top. Again."

So, they started again. When Gustavo stopped them the third time, it was the farthest they'd gotten the whole session. Five measures. James sent Logan an annoyed glare. In response, Logan smiled sheepishly, wide, and shrugged. There was nothing that he could do about Gustavo's frequent pauses to give harsh notes every five seconds, unless they all wanted to get fired. Logan doubted James would want to be fired, for the second time, so he kept quiet.

Following a pattern Gustavo had only established that night, the criticism was directed at Logan. Gustavo's face was red, his eyes bulging. He spluttered for a minute, trying to figure out something to say, strong enough to get the point across. He found it.

"Logan, seriously." Gustavo paused, taking in a breath, no doubt about to yell. "My mother, my tone-deaf mother, could sing better than you. And she is dead and buried in her grave."

Logan's hands fumbled for the microphone in front of him, changing course midway to his headphones. He pulled them off and placed them by the mic stand. "I need to use the bathroom."

"No! No breaks!" Gustavo yelled. He was yelling

more, something about the record company deadline (Friday), something about Griffin (how he was going to fire all of them if they didn't get the song finished) and something about Boyquake, Boyz In the Attic, one of his old bands, it didn't matter which one. But Logan wasn't really processing this anyway. He just needed to get out of this sound booth.

He shot a desperate pleading look at Kelly, who nodded. While Gustavo was still yelling, Logan slipped out of the studio, trying to breathe as he made his way to the bathroom. Immediately, he was slumped against the wall.

He closed his eyes and tried to breathe.

—

"We need to go to the bathroom," Kendall said, speaking for all three of them. Gustavo was still yelling about something. Eventually he was yelling at them to get back in the booth. But he ignored him and spoke to Kelly.

Kelly nodded, but stopped him. James and Carlos went ahead. "Kendall, is there something going on?"

He stepped out of her way, trying to reassure her with a smile. "Everything is fine."

This didn't work, because Kelly still looked worried as Kendall ran to the bathroom after his friends.

He made a quick assessment of the situation. Logan was against the wall, eyes closed, taking in shallow breaths, shaking. He was pulsing his feet back and forth, attempting to calm himself down. He had been doing that since they were little kids. Kendall winced. Now he needed to delegate.

"Carlos, go get some water. And tell Kelly what's going on."

"But—Logan looks really scared. I don't think he would want Kelly to know. I don't think he wants to be alone."

"He's not alone." Kendall turned to him, practically begging. "Carlos, please."

Carlos was always the worst when these attacks happened. He was the one who got scared, and Kendall didn't need for his friend to see the rest of the attack if it got worse. It would just upset him more.

The Latino went back into the studio with one tentative glance at Logan. He broke into a sprint.

James was talking to Logan already, holding his arms, when Kendall appeared next to him.

"Alright, Loges. You're good," James was saying. "What do you need me to do?"

"He needs to breathe," Kendall said. "He's not breathing."

Well, not breathing properly. Logan's breaths were ragged and shallow. His chest barely rose and fell between each inhale. He was breathing faster and faster, until he wasn't breathing, really. Just gasping, desperately searching for air.

That was when Carlos returned with two bottles of fruit water. They were dropped to the floor, spilling out, which alerted James and Kendall of his presence.

"Kendall," James whispered. "Carlos?"

"Yeah," Kendall replied. He left Logan's side to deal with him. Carlos stood, frozen, unsure. He hardly ever froze. Kendall swiftly led him out of the room. He would deal with the fruit waters later.

"Carlos?"

Carlos shook his head. His eyes were watery, he was blinking fast. "Why isn't Logan getting any better?"

Kendall made the connection quicker than he thought he would. Whenever this happened, whenever Logan had a panic attack like this, if they were all together, James and Kendall would always, without fail, send Carlos to get water. To get water, and when they were little, to tell Mrs. Knight. This was the same pattern as always. And once Carlos got the water, once Kendall opened the door to let him in, Logan was better. A little shaky, possibly. He wouldn't want to talk about it, throwing himself into some new textbook or other distraction. That was the norm.

But they had been in the bathroom, and that door was always kept open, at least with a doorstop. Carlos saw the whole thing, at its worst, immediately.

"Kendall, how bad is this?"

Kendall sighed. He didn't know, how was he supposed to know? Logan's panic attacks, and then those other things, where he just didn't even exist anymore, his anxiety. It all just swirled into one big problem, one big important problem, that Kendall did not have the answer for.

He settled on saying the three words he hated saying when it came to situations like this. "I don't know."

He didn't know, and if he didn't know, he couldn't fix it. He was supposed to fix things.

Carlos seemed shocked by this new information. "You don't—"

But he stopped himself. They stood together, silent for a minute.

Then they went back in.

—

Logan seemed out of the breathing was still shallow, and he was still shaking a little,but with James help, he was able to stand. Then, as usual, he brushed James's steadying arm away, and ducked back into the sound booth. He put his headset back on, trying to figure out how he was supposed to smile.

He tried to smile. Kelly looked worried and Gustavo looked disgusted. Kelly elbowed the record producer, who muttered something under his breath. Gustavo looked at Logan.

"I'm—sorry for what I said," he glanced at Kelly standing behind him, who crossed her arms, staring him down. "It was a little too—harsh. Sorry."

"It's fine, Gustavo."

And they left it at that. For once in perhaps the entire history of Rocque Records, for one rehearsal, no more criticisms were directed at the boys.

Logan knew the pattern would go back to normal, that Kendall would do something to set Gustavo off his hinges.

He was glad that after everything, he could slip right back into place. Right back into the pattern.