Chapter Text
Backstage was a whirlwind of energy, the kind that thrummed beneath every Big Time Rush show like a living beast. It was the space where nerves tangled with excitement, and every second ticked toward the moment they’d step into the spotlight. But tonight, something felt... off.
James stood before the mirror, fingers threading through his perfectly spiked hair for the fourth time. His usual confident grin was tempered by a crease between his brows. Come on, man, he thought, you’ve got to nail this. Fans are counting on you.
“Almost perfect,” he muttered, tilting his head to catch every angle.
Across the room, Logan crouched low over their setlist taped to the floor. The paper was frayed at the edges from countless rehearsals. He whispered to himself, eyes scanning and rescanning. “‘Worldwide,’ ‘Shot in the Dark,’ ‘Falling’… transitions smooth. No slip-ups.”
Carlos slouched in a fold-out chair, phone in hand, desperate to squeeze in a quick round of Mario Kart. His fingers danced furiously across the screen, a burst of laughter bubbling up as he dodged virtual shells. It was his way of stealing a moment of calm before the storm.
And then there was Kendall.
He sat alone on an amplifier, knees pulled tight to his chest, eyes unfocused and distant. His foot tapped a jittery rhythm against the worn carpet. He wasn’t just tired—he was fighting something beneath the surface.
Logan’s gaze lingered. The easy camaraderie they usually shared was replaced by a silent question. He stepped closer, voice low and steady. “Hey, you okay?”
Kendall blinked, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”
But Logan noticed the subtle tremor in Kendall’s hand as he reached for his microphone stand, the tension coiling just beneath his calm facade. He wasn’t buying it.
Before Logan could press further, the calm shattered.
The door burst open, Gustavo barreling in like a storm, clipboard clutched tightly, fury sparking in his eyes. “We go on in ten! I swear, if anyone forgets the lyrics to ‘Worldwide’ again, I will personally dropkick—”
A sudden, piercing alarm cut him off. It sliced through the room like a scream.
The emergency evacuation signal.
Time froze for a heartbeat.
“What the—” Carlos started, but was silenced by the flood of security rushing in.
“Move! Now! All of you!”
The backstage crew erupted into frantic motion, cords yanked from sockets, equipment hustled out. The boys grabbed their essentials, hearts pounding in their chests, adrenaline hitting full throttle.
Kendall’s breath hitched. For a moment, his eyes locked on the blinking red light above the exit.
This can’t be happening again, he thought, panic coiling in his stomach. Not now.
His mind flashed back to the last time—the fire, the chaos, the smoke choking the air.
James was already moving, his voice cracking as he yelled, “Come on! Let’s go!”
Carlos grabbed Kendall’s arm, tugging him forward. “Dude, snap out of it!”
Logan’s steady presence was a lifeline. “We stick together. We’re going to get out.”
But Kendall’s thoughts spun in circles. Why is this happening again? Did we really escape? Or is it all a loop?
As they rushed outside, flashing lights cast a surreal glow on the stunned faces of fans waiting in line. The crowd buzzed with confusion, whispers turning to anxious murmurs.
“Is it a fire?” James asked, voice tense.
“No clue,” Logan answered, eyes scanning the perimeter.
Kendall’s gaze stayed locked on the venue’s entrance—dark, silent, threatening.
In the car, the ride back was a cocoon of silence. The usual post-show chatter was replaced by a heavy, suffocating quiet broken only by the faint crackle of the radio.
Carlos glanced at Kendall, whose hands clenched the seat edge, knuckles white. “Hey, man, talk to me.”
Kendall shook his head, eyes fixed on the window as the city lights blurred by.
I can’t. Not yet.
Inside, Logan’s voice softened. “Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
Kendall swallowed hard. The fire might have been external once. But now, something was burning inside him—a fear, a secret loop he couldn’t escape.
He didn’t speak.
Not yet.