A/N: So, the inspiration for this story came from watching the latest installment of BTR, Big Time Video.

Disclaimer: Nickelodeon owns Big Time Rush. I am not affiliated with Nickelodeon. Therefore, I do not own Big Time Rush.

Big Time Disaster

Father's Stamp of Disapproval

Logan's POV

I couldn't believe my ears. It's not that there was anything wrong with my hearing. My hearing was fine. It's just that I was in shock—complete and utter shock. Camille had just told me that she wanted me to come over for dinner so that I could meet her father—officially. This was happening too fast. Was this really happening? I mean are Camille and I even a couple yet? We're friends. I know that much. However, she's also friends with Kendall, James, and Carlos, and I don't see them invited over to Camille's place for dinner.

Meeting the parents. That was huge. I was freaking out to say the least. The truth of the matter was that I never got to the stage in a relationship where I actually met a girl's parents. Camille lived with her father here in Los Angeles. Her mother is alive and well. They just didn't have enough money for all three of them to move to Los Angeles in order for Camille to pursue her lifelong dream of becoming an actress. Kind of like how my parents were back in Minnesota while I was pursuing my—well, helping James pursue his dream.

"Uh…Camille, don't you think it's a little too soon for me to meet your dad?" I asked before squeezing my eyes shut and holding my hands up in defense to protect my face.

I braced myself for the sting of a Camille slap, but there was none. I was rather surprised. I slowly opened one eye, and then the other. She didn't even look coiled to spring.

"Yeah, but I think me tackling you after we finished shooting your music video kind of speeded things up. I mean he already suspects that you and I are an item, but I think I need to explain to him why I tackled you," Camille replied.

I noticed her cheeks flush after she brought up the memory of her tackling me after our music video shoot. I felt my cheeks heat up, and I was sure that now we were both blushing.

"Great, so send him an e-mail or text. Tell him over the phone or in person. I just don't see why I have to be dragged into the equation, over dinner no less," I said, muttering the last part about dinner.

Camille laughed. "Logan, what are you so afraid of?"

Swell. Now the girl I liked was laughing at me.

"Believe it or not, I've never actually met a girl's parents before," I answered, hanging my head in shame.

She gave me a warm smile. Just like that, every last hint of shame disappeared from my face. It was uncanny how such a simple gesture could invoke such a response from me. Methinks it was only because she was the one giving me a warm smile. It was part of the hold she has on me.

"Well, I've never had a boy I like meet my dad before," Camille stated.

If memory serves me correctly, she has never been asked out before. This means that she's new to relationships. This means that I'm her first. That was one fact that I took great pride in. Camille's mother was back in Connecticut. She was an only child, so it was just her and her father in L.A. From what I've learned about her, she was definitely a daddy's girl. That only made me more nervous about meeting her father—officially.

"I already met your dad at the music video shoot. Remember?" I asked. I figured it was worth a shot.

"Yeah, but that hardly counts as an official meeting. I never actually introduced you to him or him to you. He just saw me run up to you and tackle you, and then he left," Camille responded.

There was the blush again on her face. She wasn't the only one either. I've been tackled by a lot of girls since I've come to Hollywood; probably more than any of the other guys. There were the Dak Zevon groupies who mistakenly thought I was their teen heartthrob when I foolishly held a picture of him up to my face not once but twice. Then, there were those girls at a Phoebe Nachee math lecture who discovered I wasn't a real girl though I was dressed up like one. Well, they didn't so much discover the truth about my identity as I revealed it to them in a fit of rage after seeing how sexist my former crush truly was. When it came to Camille tackling me though, she can tackle me anytime she wants. At least with her, she doesn't have any malicious intent. At least with her, she's not intentionally trying to cause me bodily harm.

"What if he doesn't like me?" I inquired, voicing my greatest fear.

Camille frowned. No, I hated it when she frowned. I preferred her to be happy and smiling that hypnotizing smile of hers. I swear I could get lost in her smile.

"Well, if that happens, which it won't, I guess that's it for you and me," she answered.

"W-what? W-why?" I stammered, incredulously.

"Logan, my dad's basically my best friend. I respect and value his opinion, and if he doesn't think you're right for me, then I have to listen to him."

I swallowed a lump that was beginning to form in my throat. Great. It's not like meeting Camille's dad wasn't nerve wracking enough before she gave me this insight. She gave me what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile. I wasn't fooled though. It seemed awfully forced to me, and not at all like her smiles usually are.

"Like I said before though, that won't happen though. I like you and once my dad sees that, I'm sure that he'll like you too," Camille remarked.

"Famous last words," I thought to myself.

XXXXX

Later on, I found myself inside Camille's apartment for the first time. She had been living at the Palm Woods for over three months, but I had never actually been to her place before. She had been to my place though. Several times. I found that quite odd.

"Nice place you have here," I commented to Camille's father.

"It's a hotel. All the rooms look the same," Camille's dad replied, giving me a disapproving look.

"Dad!" Camille exclaimed.

Well, at least she was coming to my aid. Not that it really made much of a difference. It was quite clear that Camille's father didn't approve of me. Nothing I said or did would change that. It was probably pretty pointless for me to actually stay for dinner.

"So Camille tells me you play hockey," Camille's father stated.

I noticed that there was no emotion in his tone of voice whatsoever. It was completely monotone, like one of those teachers at school who puts you to sleep just by giving a lecture. Not that I ever slept in class though. Carlos maybe, but me never. Honestly. Ask anyone.

"Yep. It's kind of how Kendall, James, Carlos, and I met," I replied.

"I detest hockey," Camille's dad remarked.

So much for finding common ground. I thought when he asked me about hockey that he was a hockey fan or used to play himself or something.

"I hear you're pretty smart," Camille's father said.

"I guess you could say that," I replied. I didn't want to boast or anything after all.

"You can't be too smart throwing your future away all in an attempt to become famous by being a part of a boy band. I loathe boy bands. Always have. Always will," Camille's dad commented.

I was at a complete and total loss for words. There was simply no pleasing this guy. Anything I said, everything about me, he hated. I'm sure he also hated the fact that I liked his daughter. Frankly, I could care less whether or not he liked me. That wasn't important. What was important was that I like Camille and she likes me.

"So, what's for dinner?" I asked, changing the subject in a hurry.

"Stuffed pork chops," Camille's dad replied. Even the way he said it, it was like 'Got a problem with that?'

"Dad, I told you! Logan doesn't eat pork. Remember?" Camille said.

I couldn't shake the fact that this was going horribly. Camille had to feel the same way. I was trying. I really was. Her dad just didn't like me.

"Tough luck. When I was a kid, we had to eat what was served or we went without. Plain and simple," Camille's father said.

I bit back an urge to comment, 'When you were a kid? How long ago was that? Four decades ago?' I felt there was no need to provoke him, no matter how much I was itching to do so anyways.

We sat down at the dinner table. Despite not liking pork, I ate the pork chops. It was the polite thing to do. We ate in silence for quite some time. I actually enjoyed the silence. At least that way, Camille's father wasn't reaffirming the fact that he couldn't stand me.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Camille's dad asked, breaking the silence.

"I'm sorry. I'm just really nervous," I answered, truthfully.

"You wouldn't be nervous unless you have something to be nervous about."

'You're certainly not doing anything to help me feel more at ease,' I thought to myself while secretly glaring daggers at Camille's father, all the while hoping she didn't notice. He didn't like me. Well, guess what? The feeling was mutual.

"You're kind of scrawny. If anyone's to date my daughter, he needs to be strong enough to protect her. What are you anorexic or something?" Camille's father inquired.

"Dad!" Camille shrieked in protest.

I scooted my chair back from the table, and stood up. That was the last straw. I didn't have to sit and take any more of this.

"This was a mistake," I said, looking at Camille.

"Finally, we agree on something," Camille's father added.

I ignored her father. I tore my gaze away from Camille. My eyes started to brim with tears. The last thing I wanted was for Camille to see that her father had made me cry. I wanted this dinner to go smoothly. I wanted that to happen so badly. Then, reality started to sink in. It hadn't, which meant…no, I didn't want to even think about that. I just needed to get out of here.

"I can show myself out," I stated, making extra sure that my voice didn't crack.

I walked over to the front door, opened it, and walked out of Camille's apartment, slamming the door shut behind me. I don't know why I slammed the door really. It was rather unnecessary. It was just I was so frustrated, and so disappointed in myself for not being able to make it work. I pressed my back against the door, and slid down until I was sitting on the carpet. I buried my face in my hands, and let my tears flow freely.

XXXXX

I don't even remember walking back to Apartment 2J, but I found myself back there. I had barricaded myself in the bathroom. I was an emotional wreck still. Kendall, James, Carlos, Katie, and Mrs. Knight were all really concerned when I wouldn't open the door or even answer them when they called my name. I didn't want to talk to them. I didn't want to talk to anybody.

"Logan? Sweetie, is everything okay?" Mrs. Knight asked, knocking on the bathroom door quietly.

I choked back a sob. I couldn't even see clearly because my vision was so clouded by tears. My nose was all runny, but I didn't care enough to bother to wipe it. What would be the point? It would just run some more as soon as I wiped it.

"Come on, Logie, open up!" Kendall said, trying his luck.

"Go away!" I shouted. I cringed at how pathetic my voice sounded. I couldn't believe I was being such a crybaby.

I didn't mean to take it out on Kendall. It's just what didn't they get about me wanting to be alone? Wasn't me barricading myself in the bathroom a big enough hint?

"Logan, what happened?" Carlos shouted.

"I don't want to talk about it!" I screamed back.

I didn't typically yell, even when I was angry, which wasn't very often. Especially not at Carlos, who, besides me, was probably the most sensitive one.

"Hey Logan! Camille's here!" James said.

My heart soared. Camille was the one person—the only person—I did want to see. Her father? Yeah, not so much.

I unlocked the bathroom door, and opened it. I found myself face-to-face with Camille. She looked like she had raccoon eyes. Her make up was ruined by the myriad tear tracks on her face. Wait. Why was she crying?

I shook the question aside, and quickly enveloped her in a hug. I never wanted to let go. It felt so right with her in my arms. We fit perfectly together. Then, she pushed me away and broke our physical contact in a not-so-subtle fashion.

"I just had a long talk with my dad, and I came here to break up with you," Camille said, before her body was racked by a fit of sobs.

At that moment, Camille's words might as well have been a knife piercing my heart. My jaw dropped. I was stunned. Out of all the things I hoped Camille would say, this was not one of them. This couldn't be happening. Not like this. Not this way. No, this wasn't real.

"My dad doesn't think you're the right guy for me. He's my best friend. If he doesn't approve…" Camille started to say before I cut her off.

"Who cares if he approves? I sure don't! All that matters is that I like you and you like me. You do like me. Right?" I replied.

"Of course I do. It's just not enough."

"What do you mean?"

"Goodbye Logan."

Just like that, Camille left. The last two words repeated themselves in my ears over and over again. I plugged my ears stupidly hoping that would stop it. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the floor. I didn't care enough to pick myself up. I didn't care about anything anymore really.

To Be Continued…

A/N: I told myself I wouldn't start another multi-chapter story until The Boy Is Mine was complete. Look how that turned out…Also, I am known for writing romance/humor, but I decided to shake things up a bit. I don't know how good I am at—what would this even be? Romance/angst? Anyhow, it's after three in the morning, and I'm going to bed.