Hi, everyone. It's been a while since I've updated this story. I'm so sorry about that. This chapter isn't very long, but I wanted to put something out.

Trigger warning for mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts, and mentions of eating disorders/eating disorder behaviors. Please be careful.


"And here is what we know so far about Carlos Garcia's condition. The 17-year-old Big Time Rush member—"

"Logan, can you please change the channel?" Kendall asks as he looks away from the TV, which is now displaying an image of Carlos right on the screen. He watches as Logan – who is sitting on the other side of the couch – reaches for the remote control next to him, turns the TV off, and then tosses the remote to the side.

"We should probably just avoid the news," Logan mutters under his breath, glancing over at Kendall. "It's pretty much everywhere at this point."

"It's not fair," Kendall says, his voice coming out choked and forceful. He can feel tears building up behind his eyes. "Why are they even allowed to talk about it? To put it on display, for the whole world to see? It's none of their business."

Logan is quiet for a moment, before replying with, "I don't know, Kendall."

Kendall sighs and hugs his arms around himself. He feels cold all over, yet he can feel the anger boiling deep inside him. Anger at the paparazzi for spreading the news everywhere. Anger at the fact that Carlos was being given no privacy whatsoever. And anger at himself for not being able to do anything about it.

He feels helpless and lost. He feels useless.

Maybe he is useless.

Before his mind can spiral any more than it already has, the door to Apartment 2J swings open and in steps his mom and Katie, carrying three boxes of pizza. His stomach is empty, but he feels nauseous.

"Is James still in his room?" his mom asks as she sets the pizza boxes down on the counter.

"Yeah," he hears himself say. The pit in his stomach seems to be growing in size. "I'll go get him."

He doesn't register getting up from the couch or walking the short distance to James and Carlos' room, but suddenly he is standing there, his hand raised to knock on the door. Inhaling sharply, he knocks lightly, and then a bit harder when he receives no response. "James?" he says, his voice once again feeling forced. "It's time for dinner."

When the door swings open, James pushes his way through, lightly knocking into Kendall on his way out. "Sorry," he mumbles, not looking at him.

Frowning, Kendall reaches for him, stopping him in his tracks. "James, are you okay?" he asks, his voice quiet. He watches, with a pained expression on his face, as James turns around, his shoulders slumped. His eyes are red.

"I'm…" He rubs under his eyes, shaking his head.

Kendall feels his heart ache. He reaches for James again, tugging him towards him. He feels James collapse against him, his body going almost completely limp. "I've got you," he whispers, feeling his throat tighten. "It's okay."

James nods against him but says nothing. He's trembling in his arms, his hands formed into fists against Kendall's back. He doesn't even know what to say to make James feel better. What kind of leader even is he? What kind of best friend is he?

Not a very good one, that's for sure.


James stares down at the plate in front of him and feels his throat tighten. The smell coming from the pizza alone is making him extremely nauseous. On a normal day, he would have finished the two slices by now, and maybe even grabbed a couple more. But now, the whole world feels like it's tilted on its axis, and his appetite is nowhere to be found.

"Can I—Can I be excused?" he asks, even though he already knows the answer to that.

Four pairs of eyes turn to look at him. He feels Kendall lay a hand on his upper back and resists the urge to move away from him.

"Honey, you haven't even touched your food," Mrs. Knight says, her voice filled with pity. He hates making people pity him. "Please, eat something."

He feels like a failure.

He wants to cry.

"At least a slice," Kendall says, leaning over to whisper it in his ear. "You can do it."

Maybe he can, but he doesn't want to.

He reaches for the slice of pizza, his hand slightly trembling. He waits until everyone has gone back to eating their food before nibbling at it. The smell is too strong, and so is the flavor. Everything feels way too overwhelming.

To his left, Logan gives him a tiny smile. He can't muster up the strength to smile back, but he wants to, even if only to reassure him. Of what? He isn't sure, but he hates himself for not even being able to give him that.

It takes him a lot longer than everyone else, but eventually, the slice of pizza is gone.

"You did great," Logan tells him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. James doesn't feel like that is true, but he doesn't voice his thoughts out loud.

"Do you wanna go to our room and watch a movie?" Kendall asks as James stands, his plate with one slice of leftover pizza in his hand.

James nods, even though he really just wants to go back to his room and fall asleep. He desperately wants to forget about today – about the last three weeks, actually. But he also doesn't want to disappoint Kendall and Logan. He feels like he has done enough of that as it is.

"Yeah, sure," he says. He places the slice of pizza inside the fridge and then reluctantly follows the two of them into their room.

"Do you want to choose the movie?" Kendall asks. The box where he keeps their movie collection is now in his hands. He places it on his bed and urges James to take a look at it.

"Okay," James manages. He really couldn't care less about what they watch. He's sure he won't last through it anyway with the exhaustion weighing him down.

"This one?" James says, pulling out the Cars DVD.

"We haven't watched that one in so long," Kendall says quietly as he takes it from James. A look of sadness crosses his face, but it's gone before James can even ask him what's wrong. "But, yeah, we can watch it."

James presses his lips tightly, the ghost of a smile coming to his face. "Great."


Five minutes later, James finds himself on Logan's bed, Logan seated next to him. Kendall curled up on his own bed. The movie has just started, but he can already feel his eyelids growing heavy. He can't even concentrate on the scene playing out in front of him.

"Are you tired?" Logan asks quietly, his eyes locked on James instead of on the movie.

"A little," James says, yawning.

"You can go to bed if you want. We can always finish watching the movie later."

James frowns and shakes his head. "No, it's fine. I'm fine."

"You look exhausted," Logan points out. "I know it's been a long day for you. Seriously, you should get some sleep."

James' frown deepens. "You guys can keep watching it without me, but… Is it okay if I stay here again?"

"Of course."

Feeling defeated, James lays down on the bed, pulling the comforter up to his chest. "If you want me to move, just let me know."

Logan nods in response. "Goodnight."

"Night, Jay," Kendall calls out from his bed.

"Night."

With a small sigh, James turns over so that his back is now to Logan, and lets his eyes drift shut. Despite his exhaustion, though, sleep does not come easily. He spends a good half hour just staring forward. He desperately wants to turn around, but he doesn't want Logan and Kendall to know that he's awake. They will just worry.

When sleep does finally come his way, it is accompanied with nothing but nightmares. In his dreams he is being chased by a figure that looks exactly like Carlos from the neck down, only his face is morphed into something unrecognizable and sinister. It causes a feeling of utter terror to engulf him, until he shoots up in bed, his breathing labored.

"James?"

Logan is staring at him, his eyes wide open. Kendall rushes to get out of his bed and to James' side.

"James, are you okay?" he asks, looking him over.

Wordlessly, James nods. His heart is beating too fast for comfort. He feels nauseous and lightheaded.

"Were you having a nightmare?" Logan asks, to which James slowly nods.

"Yeah. I, uh, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

James doesn't respond.

"James?"

Before he can even respond, the tears start rolling down the sides of his face, and once they come, they won't stop. He allows Logan and Kendall to pull him into their arms, but he can't push away the feeling of guilt that creeps up on him. He hates himself for not being able to control his emotions better. It isn't fair to either of them. They deserve so much better than him.

He feels like such a burden.


"Mi amor, are you awake?"

Carlos keeps his eyes closed and remains unmoving, even when he feels his mother's hand slip into his own. He does his best to not flinch at the touch, though he feels a lump form in his throat at the realization that something that once brought him comfort causes him nothing but anxiety now.

"Maybe we should go," he hears his dad say. He's on his left side, on the same side as his mother. He can practically picture them – his mom seated on the chair next to his bed, his dad standing behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. He can picture the sadness in their eyes, the broken expressions on their faces, and hates himself even more, knowing that he is the reason they're feeling that way in the first place.

Without realizing it, he inhales sharply in an attempt to stop himself from crying. His mother's grip on his hand tightens almost instantly, and he hears her call his name, her voice urgent.

"Carlos?" she asks. "Carlos, baby, are you awake?"

Slowly, he pries his eyes open, blinking several times when the light from above blinds him momentarily. When his eyes finally adjust to it, he turns to his mother and forces a small onto his face. "Hi, mami," he says, then lets his eyes wander to his father. "Papi."

"Hi, sweetheart," his mom says, reaching out to place a hand on his cheek. Her eyes are shiny and wet with tears. "How are you feeling?"

Like I'd rather be buried six feet underground, he thinks. "Tired," he says instead, feigning a yawn. "When can I go home?"

His mom turns to look at his dad, but no words are exchanged between the two of them. "We were just talking to the doctor about that," she says when she turns back to look at him. "He still needs to run some more tests, but he said that if everything goes well, you should be able to go home in a couple of days."

He stares at his parents, flabbergasted. "Really?"

"Really, mijo," his dad says. He steps away from his mother and walks around his bed, until he's standing on his right side. Giving him a small smile, he gives his shoulder a light squeeze. "But, your mom and I were talking, and we think it might be a good idea if we stayed here with you."

"Like, with me and the guys?" Carlos asks, giving his dad a puzzled look. "For how long?"

"Not with the other boys," his mom says slowly. "We were thinking… we could maybe get our own apartment."

"At… the Palm Woods?" Carlos asks.

"Maybe away from the Palm Woods," his dad says after a moment of silence. "We're not sure yet, but we can discuss this later, okay? It's just a thought. We just want to be closer to you. Minnesota is too far away."

"Yeah," Carlos says, his eyes no longer on either of them. He keeps his gaze forward, his eyes welling up with tears.

"Honey, are you okay?" his mom asks, and he nods in response. His mom exchanges a worried look with his dad, all the while frowning. "Like we said, nothing's set in stone yet. Right now, what's important is that you get better, okay?"

What if I don't want to get better?

What if it's all pointless?

"Yeah, okay." He sighs and rolls onto his right side, closing his eyes, hoping his parents get the hint and leave. He doesn't want to be reminded of the pain he's caused them – the pain he has caused everyone. He doesn't even understand why they bother with him, when all he does is disappoint them in one way or another.

"I'm tired," he says when neither of his parents make a move to leave.

He hears his mom sniffle, followed by the sound of her chair scraping as she rises to her feet.

"Te quiero mucho, mi cielo," she whispers as she leans over and places a kiss on the top of his head.

"We'll be back in the morning, mijo," his dad tells him, giving his shoulder a light pat. "We love you."

"Love you too," Carlos says but doesn't turn to face them.

When the door closes behind them, he curls into a ball, unable to stop the sobs that crawl up his throat, disturbing the silence surrounding him.

He's so pathetic. He can't even carry a tune.

Why is he even in the band? Big Time Rush would be so much better without him.

I think the world would be better without him, tbh.

He's so ugly.

Stupid.

Pathetic.

Why don't you just do us all a favor and disappear? Nobody would miss you anyway.


So… those last few lines are a clue to what led Carlos to do what he did.

I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. It was a difficult chapter to write. I know things seem very bleak at the moment, for all the boys, but I promise things won't be like this forever. Things will start looking up, little by little. There's just… a lot that they have to deal with first, given what's happened in this story. Dealing with stuff like this is serious, and I don't want to sugarcoat it.

I'm going to try to update Heart Stopping Comenack and Green Eyes Full of Remorse soon, so be on the lookout for that, if you happen to be reading them. :)

Thank you for all the support.

Also, just because I included some words in Spanish in this chapter…

"Mi amor" is "my love."

"Mijo" is technically a short way of saying "mi hijo," which translates to "my son" in English.

"Te quiero mucho" means "I love you so much."

And "mi cielo" literally translates to "my heaven," but it's a term of endearment. Kind of like "sweetheart."

~ BigTimeRush-BTR :)