Hey y'all. New oneshot. It's not really a crossover, you don't need any actual knowledge of the Umbrella Academy in order to read. I don't have any knowledge of it really, and I've watched three episodes. I can't even tell Diego and Luther apart, which is problematic.
This is just Logan trying to watch the first episode of Umbrella Academy, but it kinda fails.
The person who I'm writing this for just watched Big Time Audition at my persistent request (been begging for a month now, I believe) and she only partially enjoyed it. It's okay, I'll just keep trying. Probably going to make them watch Green Time Rush (bullied Logan) or Big Time Sneakers (James and Logan supremacy) next. This is just a birthday present that I'm posting ahead of the person's birthday, just to see if she sneakily looks at this because I know she looked at Minnesota Memoir but I didn't tell her about it.
Oh, and Big Time Rush Twitter just put out Kendall's Top Picks playlist (which is what I'm listening to now) but I have to say that James's playlist was way better (I switched, I'm listening to that now), but Kendall's is still good. I'm still waiting for Logan's…
Also we're pretending Umbrella Academy came out in 2009, just to help my friend understand that Logan is not thirty-two in this at all. The boys are sixteen, Katie is ten, you all should know this. Great.
Happy reading! Enjoy!
Logan should've expected it. It was the middle of the afternoon, he was alone in the apartment watching TV in the dark. Currently, the TV was spouting Russian, completely unintelligible to Logan's untrained ear. The captions were not helping. They just said [speaking Russian].
"That's a really weird ad," Carlos said from behind him. Logan jumped, pausing it. "Why are they speaking Russian? Is there a Russian channel?"
Carlos was flicking on the lights now too, completely disrupting Logan's perfect television-watching atmosphere. "Why are you watching this in the dark?"
He shrugged, when, in reality, he had a specific answer. Not that he planned on sharing it, he wanted to be too busy watching this. "Does it matter?"
Carlos turned on the last of the lights, sitting down next to him. "It's kinda weird."
There is blood in the pool on screen, all these Russian ladies are crying out in pain, and Logan is trying to pay attention because he doesn't understand. He rewinds it.
"Logan, why did they all just start bleeding into the pool? Isn't that really weird?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I'm trying to figure that out, actually, so—"
He rewinds the clip again. Again. The door slams. Logan throws the remote down, pausing the television again. He turns to see James, eyes fixed on the screen. His lips are pursed, his eyebrows knit together. Finally, he turns to Logan.
Logan avoids his stare, turning back around to face the television. He unpauses it.
"What was that?" James asks, jumping over the back of the couch. Now Logan is sandwiched between the two of them. He leans his head back, a death grip on the remote, since James is currently reaching across for it. If he ignores them, maybe they'll go away.
"Spontaneously asexually impregnated aging Russian women," he replies.
With that comment, he got a few seconds of shocked silence.
—
Unfortunately, it only takes these few seconds of shocked silence for the door to swing open again. Someone else.
It's Kendall. "You know, she doesn't look like she's having the best time dancing."
"Vanya," Logan mutters.
"But she does dance better than you!" he exclaims, jumping over the back of the couch like James did just a few minutes ago.
Logan sighs. He thought he was the one with the commenting problem. Apparently not, since none of his friends seem close to shutting up. No, instead, they preferred to enlighten him on who was the best dancer out of the Hargreeves siblings.
Carlos answered first. "Klaus."
"He's a drug addict who can talk to dead people."
Carlos's eyes widened. "Whoa, really?"
"Yes, that's his character attributes. A drug addict who can talk to the dead. Just not when he's actively on drugs."
"You mean high," James clarified. "Logan, you can say high."
"High," he repeated. "Klaus can't talk to the dead under the influence of alcohol, either."
"Drunk."
"Fine, yeah, drunk. Can you all shut up?"
He fixes his gaze on Allison's aggressive dancing. Actually, all of them are pretty aggressive dancers, even Vanya, once she really gets into it. Kendall was right, Vanya probably was a better dancer than him. But she couldn't do a backflip.
James shrugs. "I think Allison's a pretty good dancer."
"Allison?" Kendall asks, raising his eyebrows.
James scoffs. "Well, Vanya sure isn't the best dancer."
"No, I'm actually liking her dance style."
Logan cranks up the volume, just to drown out the impending argument. It's a mostly useless effort, since, as loud as the television gets, James and Kendall get even louder. The sounds of their yelling and the music overlap, painfully dissonant. Logan stares at the captions until the white letters blur. There is no chance he's finishing this show, much less this episode.
—
"They beheaded the statue!" Carlos screamed. "You know, I bet that dead guy's body is actually inside the statue."
Logan doubted it. They would've been more careful if they knew they could potentially beheaded their brother's carcass.
"The human head, the brain, remains conscious for fifteen to twenty seconds even after it's been beheaded."
Once again, his comments provide long seconds of silence. These seconds happen to be the most important, this is the only time he can actually hear the dialogue being spoken. Unfortunately, this silence isn't even interrupted by his friends commenting. It's interrupted by yet another door slammed closed. Someone else.
"This is not a viewing party," Logan muttered under his breath.
The number of other people in the room, crowded around the television, told him otherwise. Not only was each of the Big Time Rush band members here, but now Katie. And Camille. Jo. The Jennifers, Jett. Lucy, even. Didn't Mr. Bitters have a rule about this? Not that they hadn't broken it before. He just really wasn't in the mood for this whole social gathering situation, when all he wanted to do was finish the episode.
Alone. With peace of mind. In the dark.
"What are you guys watching?" Katie asked.
"Someone said there was a party," the Jennifers added. "A premiere party."
Logan doesn't even have the energy to glare at the two smirking Super Hollywood Party Kings of Hollywood on either side of him. He does settle for kicking James in the shin, and elbowing Carlos in the ribs. The two of them are still grinning as they jump off the couch, doing whatever they are about to do in order to host the very much unanticipated and unwanted party.
Logan sighs, turning back to the screen. Great. He's missed something again.
He can hear Klaus on the screen, as he and the rest of his siblings stare down this teenage kid. A wormhole closes behind him.
Number Five is apparently this teenage kid's name, which really isn't much of a name at all. All the other Hargreeves have names. They don't just go by their numbers. Logan is busy trying to figure this out, there's obviously some plot importance to this.
His train of thought disappears completely when Katie is suddenly beside him, leaning over the couch.
"Number Five's kinda hot."
—
The party is going on around him, he's in the middle of it, not paying attention. Not to the television, not to the party. The party, however, must be paying attention to him, or at least what's on the television, because someone stops the party music.
Now, Logan can clearly hear what's going on. There's a lot of gunshots, a lot of fake blood, which would normally bother him (it was so fake) but it didn't, just because he wasn't interested enough anymore. Gunshots, fake blood, maybe they were in a donut shop? There's some old man with Number Five, the teenage kid Katie thinks is hot, but Logan doesn't recognize him.
The soundtrack. That's why they turned the party music off. Logan listens more intently.
Istanbul (Not Constinople) is playing.
It's a really cool song, everyone's dancing. He's kinda dancing too. In real life, at the party. Everyone on the television screen is pretty much dead.
