A/N: "A Different Kind of Kogan" is currently at the bottom of the poll on my profile page. Remember that you have until the end of February 14th to vote in this round, and the story idea(s) that poll the lowest will be eliminated.

Disclaimer: Nickelodeon owns Big Time Rush. I am not making a profit by writing this.

Til I Forget About You

Confrontations

I was backstage in my dressing room. We had just finished our concert. Everything went great; the concert was sold out, the crowd loved us, we sang well, we danced well, everything went without a hitch. Even though I just learned the dance routines to four of the songs a couple of days ago, it was like I was never gone to begin with. Singing and performing with the others was like riding a bike.

After carefully weighing all my options, I decided that staying was my best bet. I could have committed suicide, and that surely would have made James and Camille feel guilty. However, eventually, they would get over it; eventually they would move on…with each other.

I considered moving back to Minnesota and pursuing my own personal dream of becoming a doctor. Once again, that was almost guaranteed to make James and Camille feel guilty. However, I was probably better off here than with my parents who barely even gave me the time of day. Besides, James and Camille could and probably would forget about me…in time.

Now if I stayed, I was still able to do something that I loved to do: sing with my best friends; my best friends being Kendall and Carlos. I no longer counted James as one of my best friends. I didn't even think of him as a friend to me. A friend wouldn't have stabbed me in the back like he did. No, James and I were in a band together, but that was the extent of our relationship with one another. My staying here forced James and Camille to live with the consequences of their actions every time they saw me. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Out on the stage, it was like the four of us never missed a beat. The crowd had no idea that all four of us weren't the best of friends anymore. Singing, performing, that was business, and I knew how to keep my business life separate from my personal life.

"Great job tonight," I heard a voice say.

I saw that Camille was standing in the doorway of my dressing room. Honestly, it sucked. I still cared a great deal about Camille. While the two of us were on a break, it didn't mean that I stopped caring about her. I probably wouldn't ever stop caring about her. Anymore though, it just pained me to see her; it was just a reminder of how she had betrayed me. Seeing her there, I could already feel my eyes start to get moist. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, and cleared my throat.

"If you're looking for James, you should check his dressing room," I said in a monotone voice.

I noticed that my emotionless voice made Camille wince. "I'm not looking for James. I'm right where I want to be," she replied.

Was it just me, or was she giving me mixed signals? The two of us weren't boyfriend and girlfriend. Heck, we weren't even friends. So why would she want to be around me at all? She had a boyfriend. Someone who just happened to be one of my former best friends.

"I just wanted to make sure that we're okay. I mean I haven't seen much of you since you've been back," Camille commented.

I turned away from her. I could still see her if I looked in the mirror though. So instead, I looked down at the ground. I was furious. She starts going out with my best friend, and then she has the nerve to ask if I'm okay? I took a deep breath, and tried to keep my voice calm before answering her.

"Yeah, well I've been really busy. I was gone for awhile, and I had a lot of catching up to do," I responded.

"Look Logan, I know that I hurt you, but you need to understand that hurting you was never my intention," she said.

I spun back around on my heels, and glared at her with watery eyes. My heart was racing. It felt like there was a gaping hole in it; my breathing seemed hindered by it too. I took short, ragged breaths.

"If you never wanted to hurt me, then answer me this: why James? It wouldn't have been so bad if it were some stranger, but it wasn't, now was it?" I retorted.

She started to walk over to me, but stopped halfway unsure if that's what she should be doing; if that's what I wanted her to do. I saw tears leak out of the corners of her eyes. What did she have to be sad about? She had a boyfriend. She wasn't the one who had been stabbed in the back!

"I don't know. I guess because there's a spark there…" she started to say before I cut her off.

"How long?" I asked.

"How long what?"

"How long have you known there was a spark between you and James?"

I braced myself for the heartache that I knew was just on the horizon. I wanted to know the answer, but at the same time, I didn't. I was still trying to wrap my head around the idea that the one girl I thought I would spend the rest of my life with may not have been the girl for me after all.

"I think it was when he and I kissed for the first time back before you and I broke up the first time," she answered.

I swallowed a lump that was starting to form in my throat. I feared that was when it had originated. A fresh wave of fury washed over me as I suddenly realized something else.

"So this whole time you've been leading me on? Why would you do that? Why would you even get back together with me in the first place?" I asked, my voice starting to raise in volume.

"I was scared! I didn't want to lose you!" she exclaimed.

"Well, now you have!"

"Don't say that, Logan! I love you!"

"Yeah, but you're just not in love with me!"

She fell silent, but that was all the answer I needed. I was so angry with her that I was literally shaking. I was a hodgepodge of emotions. My head swam as I tried to sort through them all.

"Hold still. I want to try something," I said.

I walked over to her, put my hands on either side of her face, bent my head down slightly, and crashed my lips into hers. I immediately felt the spark. It was just as good as I remembered it. I stopped the kiss when breathing became an issue.

"Tell me you didn't feel anything!" I demanded.

She averted her gaze. "I'm sorry, Logan."

Aching doesn't even begin to describe how my chest felt at that moment. I clutched it futilely. Breathing was a problem, but this time for an entirely different reason. The floodgates behind my eyes collapsed.

"Get out," I said in a voice so low that I would be surprised if she even heard me.

"Logan…" she said.

"Get out!"

She left my dressing room in tears. I followed her, not because I was going after her, but because there was someone I needed to see right now. It didn't take me long at all to find his dressing room.

"James!" I shouted, my hands curled up into fists at my side.

James turned away from his vanity to see me standing in the doorway of his dressing room. At first, he smiled upon seeing me, but then when he saw the emotional state I was currently in, his smile turned upside down.

"Why? Why Camille? You could have any girl you want! Why did you have to steal the girl I liked from me?" I yelled.

"Logan, I never meant to hurt you," James replied.

"Funny. Camille said the exact same thing. What, did the two of you get together and rehearse what you would say to me?"

"It wasn't like that. Really Logie, I never wanted to hurt you."

"Don't! You've lost your right to call me that!"

There was a war going on inside of me. A part of me wanted to find out how this even happened in the first place. James called himself 'The Face.' Well, the rest of me wanted to ruin that face of his.

"How did this even happen?" I asked, cooler heads prevailing for the moment.

"Camille was a mess. She was missing you. She felt guilty that you were in a psychiatric institute. She felt guilty that you had tried to jump off the roof. I understood perfectly what she was going through because I felt the same way. Camille needed a shoulder to cry on," James answered.

"Let me guess; you were all too happy to oblige?"

James was normally a confident individual. However, when he broke eye contact with me, I knew that he was unsure of himself. He was trying to do and say all the right things to me, but he just didn't know what those things were.

"I thought Camille wasn't your type?" I asked.

"I just said that because I knew that you liked her," he replied.

"That's just great! So now on top of being a Benedict Arnold, you're also a liar!"

"The two of you have nothing in common! Camille and I both share a love for acting. We are both passionate people. She gets me, and I get her."

"Twist the knife a little more, why don't you?"

I took off running towards James. I clenched my hand even tighter into a fist. I pulled my fist back and aimed for James' nose. At the last split second, James dodged the attack, and my fist smashed into the mirror, shattering it. Shards of glass embedded themselves in my knuckles. I cried out in pain, and cradled my injured hand to my chest.

"Logan!" James exclaimed.

He kept trying to help me, but I kept shoving him back roughly with my uninjured hand. A thin ribbon of blood seeped in between my knuckles before dripping on the floor. My knees gave out on me, and I sank to the floor. James somehow managed to wrap me up in an embrace. I squirmed, struggled, and thrashed, but he wasn't letting me go.

"I trusted you! I trusted both of you! I hate Camille! I hate you!" I screamed, my eyes stinging with tears.

"I know, Logan. I know," James replied.

After minutes on end, my fruitless efforts wore me out. The two of us sat there on the floor of James' dressing room. He held me in his arms as I mourned for everything I had lost.

To Be Continued…

A/N: Just to give you a heads up, this story has one maybe two more chapters left. Any more than that I think will just be overkill.