The Darker Side

Chapter 3

Mikkal

Logan yawned and wiped his eyes as he stumbled into the kitchen. It was way too early for a normal person to be up, but since when was anyone in Big Time Rush normal?

He groaned and leaned against the fridge, why did he agree to this? He swore he was going to stop the whole gymnastic thing when they left Minnesota, why did Gustavo and Griffin have to force him to pick it up again?

Once a week he had to go to the gym and get watered down training from a coach so he could keep up the flips and all during concerts. In turn Logan had to teach James the basics so they both could do it. The pretty one and the smart one, it was a funny little oxymoron type thing Griffin thought would increase publicity.

Logan wrote a note to Mama Knight. He shouldn't be gone for more than three hours, back in time for practice. And then headed out the door. As he pulled it close behind him something flashed in the corner of his eye.

A note...on the door. A note on his door.

Haha! I found it! Have a good day, sweetie. xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

He swallowed a lump in his throat and gasped a little for breath. This had to be a joke. It had to be. This was impossible. No one would do this. It was creepy. Wrong. Creepy and wrong. Weird...Why him? No, wait. It was a joke. Of course it was him. He was always the butt of jokes.

But who would pull this type of joke?

Suspects ran through his head as he torn the note off and stuffed it in his pocket. This would go along with the other two notes and pictures when he finally got back to the apartment. He felt a little better now that he'd convinced himself it was all just a prank. And a little angry too, why would someone do something like this? It wasn't funny.

He clenched his hands into fists. It was probably the guys. They had no idea when to quit...but he couldn't seem them going this far.

But who else could it be?

With that in mind he climbed into one of two cars studio rented out for the whole family and drove to the gym.

"You're home early."

Carlos' head popped up when Kendall announced that. He frowned when he saw Logan walking in, water bottle in a death vice grip. His knuckles were bleached white and he was biting his lip.

Logan shrugged. "Yeah, well, Sasha said I've been doing well so he let me go early. He knows we've got practice and I've got my date." He shrugged again. "So, whatever." There was a flash of anger in his eyes. "I'm gonna take a shower." He stalked, stomped really, into his room.

"What's with him?" James asked, angry in his own right. "He was practically yelling at us."

Kendall stared at the closed door. "I don't know. Something's not right."

"He's been sick," Carlos protested. But he knew it was no use. This wasn't some illness. Something was seriously wrong and it was quickly driving a wall between them and him.

James shook his head. "He's not sick anymore. He didn't even bother using that as an excuse like before. I wonder what's wrong."

"I'll mention it to Camille before we leave," Kendall said firmly. "Maybe she can finally get something outta him."

"Logan, are you alright?" Camille asked. She leaned over a little to peer into his face. "You're not looking so good."

He smiled at her tightly. "I'm fine. The guys are just pulling a not-funny prank on me, it's annoying." He waved a dismissing hand. "Just forget about it."

She frowned. "What kind of not funny prank?"

Logan thought about it for a moment, a little fear bubbling up. What if...what if it wasn't a prank? Camille could be in danger. But then he shook that away. Of course it was. Then launched into the whole freaky story.

When he was done Camille sat back, looking worried. "That doesn't sound like something Kendall would agree to."

He paled. Oh damn, she was right. She was absolutely, totally, completely, right. Kendall knew better. He always knew better. What the hell was he thinking? But...

"What if Kendall doesn't know? I can see Carlos and James planning this and not telling Kendall."

And she agreed with him...sort of. Camille smiled at the waiter as he refreshed her water and took a sip. "You should still talk to them. It's obviously bothering you."

Logan swallowed his pasta and smiled. "Yeah, okay...Got any new roles?"

She rolled her eyes at the change of subject, but allowed it. "Well, I'm being considered for a supporting role in a romantic comedy."

They spent the rest of the date making jokes and having tiny food fights with pieces of bread. Near the end Logan faltered in his easy laughter as Camille grabbed her her head and blinked rapidly.

"Are you okay?" His doctor instincts were kicking in as he started analyzing everything. Her pupils were dilated, breathing was a little shallow, and sweat was making her forehead shine.

Camille took a deep breath through her nose. "My head hurts," she mumbled. "I'm not feeling too good."

"Come on, let's get you home," Logan said. He threw more than enough money for the dinner on the table and helped her out of the restaurant. "It's probably the food. You never know what's going to happen with Italians," he joked, making her let out a breathy laugh.

Logan froze when they made it to the truck, something white fluttered brightly against the black exterior. His heart sank, but, for some reason, he could feel it beating frantically in his throat. He limped Camille closer, his throat closing when he read what the paper said.

What did I say about the touching?

Camille groaned and slumped to the ground. "L-Logan, I don't t-think it was the f-food," she stuttered, her blinking getting faster as she tried to keep her eyes open. "W-What's going o-on?"

He never got a chance to answer. Red hot pain flashed from the back of his head and he crumbled to the floor, meeting darkness at the same time as Camille.