A/N: So I've archived a quarter of a million words under my pen name, but if you consider my author's notes and disclaimers and such, it's probably only like 200,000 words. Lol.

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

Til I Forget About You

Dangerous Secret

"It's time for your medicine, Logan," a nurse announced.

I was prescribed 20 milligrams of Prozac a day to help me deal with my depression. So, once a day, a nurse came by and brought me my medicine; one pill in a little plastic cup. I brought the container to my lips, opened my mouth, and tilted it upwards.

"Open your mouth for me, please," the nurse said.

I did as she asked, and after looking in my mouth, she left satisfied that I had taken my medicine like I was supposed to. At least that's what she thought. Just like I had the past two days, I hid the pill underneath my tongue. The nurses didn't see the pill in my mouth anymore, and that was good enough for them.

I closed the door to my room. Then, I removed the pill from my mouth. I unzipped the front pocket of my suitcase. I pulled out a Ziploc bag, and undid the seal. I dropped the pill into the bag, which now had three pills in it. I sealed the bag back up before stuffing it back in the front pocket of my suitcase. Finally, I zipped the front pocket of my suitcase back up.

There were many reasons why I wasn't taking my Prozac. First of all, I didn't really feel like I needed to take any antidepressants. I was confident that I could get better without the assistance of any drug. Besides, it's not like I was going to try to commit suicide again. But if I were to, it was nice to have…options. Surely overdosing on antidepressants was less painful than getting in a car crash, right?

I wasn't sure how long I would be here at the psychiatric institute, but if I was here for the standard life span of celebrity gossip, then I would be here for five weeks. Since there are seven days in a week, then I would be able to stash away thirty-five pills by the time I'm out of here. That's not even counting the pills they might send home with me when I can finally leave this place. I mean I'm sure they would want to keep me on antidepressants even when I'm not here, just to be on the safe side. The Ziploc of pills is just an insurance policy; just in case.

I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was almost time for my daily therapy session with Dr. White. I opened my door, closing it behind me as I left for Dr. White's office.

XXXXX

"Hello, Logan. How are you feeling today?" Dr. White asked.

"All things considered, I'm good," I replied.

I took a seat on the black leather sofa while Dr. White went and sat in her chair. She got out her pen and notepad. I was past the point where I was bothered that she sat and took notes the whole time I was dredging up painful memories.

"I was thinking that since tomorrow you can have visitors, we could spend our session today talking about your friends. How does that sound?" Dr. White questioned.

"Uh…sure," I replied uncertainly.

I tried to swallow past the lump that was starting to form in my throat. I fidgeted with the collar of my short-sleeved shirt. Was it just me, or was it suddenly stuffy in here? I folded my hands together on my lap in an attempt to hide the fact that they were shaking from Dr. White.

"So how long have you known your friends?" she inquired.

"Since we were five years old. We met playing peewee hockey," I answered.

"What were your friends' names?"

"Kendall, James, and Carlos."

Maybe I was just being paranoid, but she seemed to be doing a lot of scribbling on her notepad all of a sudden. What exactly was she writing? Even though it was pointless to try, I found myself craning my neck in an effort to get a better look.

"Why don't you tell me about each of your friends?" Dr. White suggested.

"Though we've all had our…disagreements…it was Carlos who has always stuck by me through everything. I think you really get a feel for who your friends are when you move away; the whole time in New York, Carlos was the only person from L.A. I talked to," I said as a frown flickered on my face for the briefest of moments.

"What is Carlos like?"

"He's practically everything I'm not. We're pretty much polar opposites. He's outgoing, energetic, fun-loving, and a real people person. Some would even say that he is reckless. Out of all my friends though, it is Carlos that gets me to come out of my shell the most. I really don't understand how he and I came to be friends, but I am extremely grateful that I have him as a friend."

Once more, she was busy jotting notes down in her notepad. As she was preoccupied with that, I inwardly wondered if there was any significance to why I talked about Carlos first out of all my friends. I mean all four of us were close.

"Which of your friends do you want to talk about next?" Dr. White asked.

"Kendall's kind of like the leader of our group. He's really protective of the rest of us, but especially me and Carlos. I think it's because Carlos and I are the youngest. Kendall may not be the oldest, but being a leader suits him. He's usually the one that comes up with all our schemes…er…plans…I may be the brains of the group, but I panic under pressure, and Kendall always comes up with the answers. I actually think that he is the one who came up with my nickname, Logie. Somehow, it stuck," I responded.

Relative to the amount of information I provided her with, she was taking an awful lot of notes. I wasn't sure if that was necessarily a good or bad thing. I kind of felt like we were going backwards; well, she wasn't going backwards, I was. Our session today seemed much more stiff. It was almost as if I didn't speak unless I was spoken to. I wondered what my therapist thought of that.

"Tell me about James," Dr. White said.

"Of the four of us, he's the oldest. He's the reason we're all living out here in L.A. now. You see, becoming a pop star has always been his dream. Now that I think about it, Kendall's actually the reason we're all living out here in L.A. now. Originally, Gustavo wanted to move Kendall out to L.A. to become a pop star. However, Kendall said he wouldn't go unless Gustavo took all four of us and made us a band," I answered.

I wasn't sure why I was telling her how we ended up in L.A. I don't really think that was very important in the grand scheme of things. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Dr. White scribbling down even more notes. Why did that bother me so much today?

"Anyways, so James is very much a ladies' man. Back in Minnesota, he always got the girl. He hasn't had a girlfriend here in L.A. though…yet. Although there was that one time when he…never mind. People who don't know him typically think he's arrogant, self-absorbed, and narcissistic, but he's really not that bad. He's just…misunderstood. He always gives everything 110 percent. He's passionate like that," I said.

"James? Isn't he the one you said you got into a fight with before you moved to New York?" Dr. White asked.

"Yes, but we've made amends since then! We always do! All four of us are really horrible at holding grudges! This is no different!"

She buried her face in her notepad, and went on a writing spree. I tried not to think much of it, but I had already reached my limit. I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up from the sofa in a fit of rage.

"Will you stop that? What are you writing anyways?" I demanded.

She held her notepad flat against her body, hiding its contents from my line of vision. Dr. White was clearly startled by my behavior. I was trying to be on my best behavior, but my skepticism was getting the best of me.

"You know I can't discuss that with you, Logan. Why don't you have a seat and try to calm down?" she suggested.

"What's the point?" I retorted. "Why are you acting so differently today? I thought you said that you weren't going to judge me?"

"I'm not judging you, Logan."

"Then what's with all the notes you're taking?"

She flipped her notepad over and set it on the armrest of her chair. She made eye contact with me and took a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm concerned about you, Logan," she answered.

"Why? I'm fine!" I exclaimed, refusing to sit back down on the sofa.

"I respectfully disagree. Instead of continuing to move forward, I feel like we're going backwards. Yesterday, it seemed like we were able to converse with one another much more freely. Now, it seems like you only speak when spoken to, and that concerns me. Plus, you're a bit on edge, and you're getting awfully worked up."

I threw my hands up in frustration. I knew that this wasn't helping my case any, but…I don't know; I guess I was just scared that Dr. White would be able to find out what it was I was hiding. If she were to ever find out that I wasn't taking my medicine, I'd be stuck here much longer than five weeks. I couldn't have that. I had to think of some way to be less…suspicious.

I flopped down on the couch, buried my face in my hands, and cried. As much as I wanted to say that this was all an act, it wasn't; the tears were very real. My body shook with sobs.

"I'm sorry for being…such a…jerk. It's just this is all…too much. It feels like…I'll never…get out of here. I…need my…friends. I miss them…so…much!" I said through intermittent sobs.

There was no doubt that the floodgates behind my eyes were open now. Myriad tears streamed down the sides of my face. I was crying so hard that I couldn't even see straight. There was a never-ending salty taste in my mouth from the tears that kept making their way into my mouth.

I felt the couch sink from the added weight of Dr. White. She took a seat beside me on the couch. I noticed her start to put her arms around me in an embrace, but then she pulled back. I honestly wasn't sure why she pulled back.

"We're really not supposed to do this, but I think I can make an exception," Dr. White said before she wrapped her arms around me in a hug.

I rested my head on her shoulder and continued to cry my eyes out. Ideally, I would have liked it if it were any of my friends consoling me right now, even Camille, but this would have to do for now.

"Hey, you're not a jerk. I'm sure this is really difficult for you, so I think I can cut you a little slack. Besides, even though I haven't known you all that long, I feel like you are a kindred spirit. Your friends will be here tomorrow. I bet they miss you just as much as you miss them," she said softly to me.

I had no doubt in my mind that Dr. White now thought that in addition to me being a crybaby, I was needy. She said she wasn't going to judge me, but based on my recent behavior, how could she not form some sort of opinion about the way I was acting?

I had mixed emotions about finally being able to have visitors tomorrow; I was obviously excited to be able to see my friends at long last. However, I also had so many questions: Who would be by to see me tomorrow? How would they act around me? What would they say to me? What would I say to them? What if they found out I wasn't taking my meds?

So I was excited, nervous, anxious, worried, sad, and happy. I guess the only way I would find the answers to all my questions was to wait until tomorrow when my friends came.

To Be Continued…