A/N: This whole story will be written from Logan's POV. The title of this story is also one of BTR's songs, and if you didn't know that, then how can you seriously call yourself a BTR fan?

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. In order to own a show like Big Time Rush, I think I would need a lot more money than the pitiful amount that is currently in my checking account. I think I would also have to not live paycheck to paycheck like I do.

Til I Forget About You

Trouble in Paradise

Camille was sitting on my lap as the two of us sat by the pool at The Palm Woods waiting for word on whether or not she booked the role for the audition she had earlier today. The director had told her that it would be sometime between three and five o'clock in the afternoon when they would call her and give her the news. It was currently 4:59 p.m. Camille's phone rang. She picked it up and looked at the Caller ID, her eyes lighting up upon seeing who it was that was calling her. She answered her phone.

"Hello?" she greeted.

I had her free hand sandwiched in between both of mine. I was caressing the top of her hand with my thumb. Auditioning wasn't a novelty for her, but regardless, her palm was sweaty, and her hand shook as she listened to the director's news.

"Really? That's great!" Camille exclaimed.

I leaned in and gave her a congratulatory kiss on the cheek. I didn't really know what had been said, but Camille said it was 'great,' so that had to be a good thing, right? Camille was such a gifted actress. I was genuinely surprised that she didn't book more roles than she did.

"Oh," Camille commented, a hint of sadness in her voice. I gave her free hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "So soon? For how long?"

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. I wanted to think that they were tears of joy, but there was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, that they weren't happy tears—they were sad tears.

"Okay, thanks. Bye now," she said, her voice cracking.

No sooner had she hung up did I pull her in for a comforting hug. She tentatively returned my embrace. For some reason, my gesture seemed to make her sadder rather than happier. I could now hear the sounds of her sobs. I pulled back, and looked at her questioningly.

"What is it? What's wrong?" I asked.

"I got the part," she answered.

I was thoroughly confused. If she got the part, then wasn't that good news? If so, then why was she crying? Why did she seem so sad?

"Congratulations, Camille! I knew you would!" I replied.

She shook her head left to right repeatedly. A solitary tear escaped, and slowly made its descent down Camille's cheek.

"No, you don't understand Logan. Filming isn't here in Los Angeles; It's in New York City," she told me.

Whether consciously or subconsciously, I wrapped my arms even tighter around Camille after she had said that. Now, even my smile had turned upside down.

"How long?" I inquired.

I wasn't even sure I wanted to know the answer to that. I was fully aware that the role she was auditioning for was the female lead for a major motion picture. It wasn't some low budget film either; the film had a budget of three hundred million dollars.

"Filming could take months," she responded, averting her gaze.

It suddenly was extremely difficult for me to breathe. I had to let go of my hold on Camille, so that I could clutch at my chest painfully. My world seemed to be spinning around me at a nauseating pace. I closed my eyes, pinched the bridge of my nose, and took several deep breaths in succession in an effort to calm my frayed nerves.

"Now when you say that, you mean one or two, right?" I asked hopefully.

I think I could deal with one or two months. I would just convince myself that Camille was taking a vacation—a rather extended vacation—but a vacation nonetheless. However, I don't think I could bear being away from Camille any longer than a couple of months.

"I'm afraid not. More like six months. Maybe even closer to a year," she replied, her tears now flowing freely.

No, no, no! This couldn't be happening! How was I supposed to go six months to a year without Camille? The longest I had ever been away from Camille was six weeks when Big Time Rush went on tour this past summer. Even then, it was torture for me. Besides, back then, Camille and I weren't even boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Look Logan, I hate this as much as you do," she commented.

I looked at her with pleading eyes.

"Then don't go. You can land another role; preferably one here in Los Angeles," I said.

"This is my big break, Logan. I have to take this role. You know I have to," Camille stated.

I knew I was being incredibly selfish right now. Camille had always supported my career. Her career was finally starting to take off, and instead of being supportive of her, I didn't want her to go; I didn't want her to leave me behind.

"What will become of us though? What am I supposed to do? Just wait for you to return hoping that you don't meet someone amazing in New York City?" I asked.

Camille laughed. It was a small laugh, and I had no clue why she was laughing, but she was.

"You really don't give yourself enough credit, Logan. I think what's more likely to happen is some girl who isn't good enough for you will hook up with you the instant you're available," she remarked.

I highly doubted that. The statistical probability of that ever happening was infinitesimally minimal. I was just lucky that Camille had feelings for me. Why would any girl like me? I was scrawny. I was geeky. I was a scaredy-cat. I was socially awkward around girls. I was only mildly attractive at best. I was pessimistic. I wasn't a thrill-seeker.

"Yeah right, Camille. I'm no catch," I commented, breaking eye contact with her.

She gently cupped my chin with her hand, and turned it so that I was facing her. Camille's eyes glimmered with tears—both shed and unshed.

"You're kidding, right? You don't have to worry about me meeting someone 'amazing' in New York City. I've already met someone 'amazing' right here in Los Angeles—you," Camille said.

My eyes started to water. That quite possibly was the sweetest thing a girl had ever said to me in my life. Great, now I was crying. Add crybaby to the extensive list of reasons why I'm not a catch.

"What did I do to deserve you?" I questioned.

"Oh please. You act like you're the lucky one when in reality, I am the one who won the boyfriend lottery," she said.

I couldn't help but snicker at her 'boyfriend lottery' remark, which I think is precisely what Camille had been going for.

"Really Logan, you have no idea how much of a catch you are. You're kind, sweet, trusting, dependable, nice, selfless, caring, funny, smart, talented, and not to mention hot," Camille said.

I felt my cheeks heat up as I rubbed the back of my neck. I bashfully averted my gaze.

"See? Look at you blushing! How adorable! You're adorable!" Camille exclaimed.

If I wasn't blushing before, I was definitely blushing now. It was just Camille was embarrassing me saying all those nice things about me. How could she see all of that in me if I didn't even see it in myself?

"Well you're amazing, talented, passionate, sweet, funny, caring, quirky, driven, nice, and not to mention gorgeous," I replied.

It was Camille's turn to blush now. She tried to hide her face behind a veil of her hair.

"I don't want you to go to New York City," I said simply. So much for me being selfless.

She wrapped her arms around me, sniffed my jacket taking in my scent, rested her head on my shoulder, and snuggled into my embrace.

"I don't want to go to New York City either; not if it means being away from you," Camille replied.

What other choice did she have though? She couldn't pass up this incredible opportunity. Opportunities like this come once in a lifetime, and even then, only if you are insanely lucky. It wasn't fair for me to ask her to choose me over her career; she never made me choose between my career and her.

"What if you come with me? To New York City, I mean," she suggested.

"What about school? What about Big Time Rush? I can't just leave Kendall, James, and Carlos behind. They're my best friends. The four of us have been inseparable since pre-Kindergarten. As much as I want to be with you, I can't leave Los Angeles. This is my home now," I replied.

She let go of me as she first sat up, then stood up. She turned to face me. She raised her right hand and slapped me hard across the side of my face. I immediately massaged my sore cheek, and looked at her with a deer-in-headlights expression on my face.

"I get that this is difficult for you, but it's not easy for me either! I'd have to change schools too! I have friends and family here too! Jo and Stephanie are my best friends, and I'd have to leave them behind too! I'm going to New York City! There's no way I'm letting this opportunity pass me by! If you really care about me like you say you do, then you'll come with me! If not, then I guess you don't care about me as much as you claim to!" Camille yelled.

The two of us were starting to attract an audience. A bunch of onlookers dropped what they were doing to stop and stare at the impending fight Camille and I were having with one another. I took a few deep, cleansing breaths. I didn't want to yell at her even though she was yelling at me.

"After everything we've been through, how can you say that I don't care about you? I was the first boy to ever ask you out. I dressed up as a prince and rode in on a fake horse to ask you out to the first ever school dance here at The Palm Woods. I gave you a part in our music video 'The City is Ours' because you hadn't booked a role in a while, and would have had to leave The Palm Woods. If that doesn't show that I care about you, then I don't know what does," I replied, making extra certain that I didn't raise my voice at her no matter how furious I was getting with her.

"How about telling me that you love me? How about taking the initiative and kissing me for a change? The only time you kissed me, we kissed each other, so it didn't really count as you kissing me! Let me tell you Logan, it gets really old always being the one kissing you!" Camille shouted at me.

My blood was boiling. She was really starting to push my buttons. I couldn't keep my voice from rising anymore.

"Well gee; I'm so sorry that it's such a chore for you to kiss me! I'm not the one who is so insecure that I have to go around marking my territory! Let's face it, Camille; that's the only reason you go around kissing me so much—to let people know that I'm yours! Like I belong to you! Like I'm some sort of possession! You want to know why I don't go around kissing you all the time? It's because when I kiss you, I want it to be special! I want it to mean something! If I were to kiss you all the time, then each kiss wouldn't mean as much; each kiss wouldn't be as special! How big of a douche does that make me?" I screamed back.

Tears were streaming down my face. My entire body was shaking. I hated confrontations. I didn't like fighting with people. I didn't like how it made me feel. I didn't like how my body reacted to it. My heart pounded in my chest. I shook from head to toe. My pulse accelerated. My palms got all sweaty.

"You sanctimonious, self-righteous jerk! You think you're such a saint! I'd hate to burst your bubble—well actually, no I wouldn't—but you're far from a saint! Just because you're so smart, you think you're always right! You're never wrong! You're so incredibly narrow-minded that you can't even consider other people's thoughts or opinions!" Camille hollered.

I wanted to stop fighting with Camille. I really did. It's just our altercation was in full swing now. This was the first major fight the two of us had since James and Camille kissed. The longer Camille and I continued to bicker, the more difficult it became to stop.

"Well, there's no way I'd be caught dead going to New York City with you now! Thank you for making my decision an easy one! Go ahead and hook up with some other guy in New York City! See if I care!" I screamed.

"Well good, because I don't want you to come with me to New York City anymore! Maybe I will meet some guy in New York City and fall madly in love with him! He'll be everything you're not! He'll be the anti-Logan! Meanwhile you'll be stuck here as a terminal bachelor! I was your first romance, and I'll be your last romance, because why would anyone want to be your girlfriend? Unless they're desperate, that is!" Camille yelled.

I don't even know why we were fighting. I didn't even know how it had started. All I knew was what she just said to me really hurt. Her words might as well have been little daggers in the back. She knew how self-conscious I was. She knew how little self-confidence I had. Whatever miniscule amount of self-confidence I may have had, she just completely obliterated.

I was so humiliated. I was so mortified. I couldn't stand having people stare at me anymore. So, I took off running. I didn't know where I was going so long as it was away from here. I was in such a rush to leave the crowd of onlookers behind that I tripped over my feet and fell to the ground. I threw my hands out to help stop my fall. The wind was knocked out of me, and I could feel the myriad scrapes on my exposed forearms, but I could care less. I hastily picked myself up and ran away from the crowd, and ran away from Camille.

To Be Continued…

A/N: Just so you know, this story is not based off any of my other stories. It is meant to stand alone. I may occasionally reference things that happen in actual episodes of the television show, but that is all. If this story even gets half the response that Big Time Disaster got, then I will be one happy guy. If not, I'll still be happy because I've been dying to write this story anyways.