It was funny: she had never actually gotten used to the idea of someone just being gone, like when her brother had stormed out of the house six years earlier never to be heard from again. Even when she knew he wasn't coming back, she'd still had hope.

And now, as she walked out of the place she had called home for the last fifteen years, she felt hopeless, because death was inevitable, and just like her brother, her parents would never be coming back. Somehow she managed to carry three boxes, two suitcases, a duffel bag and two purses. The social worker didn't bother to help.

What's going to happen to me?

That had been her first question upon leaving the hospital. The stranger turned around, and there seemed to almost a sympathetic look in his eyes.

"I don't know, Michelle. If we can't find anyone to take you, then you'll have to go into the system. Don't worry, they're nice people, and they'll take really good care of you."

She hated being called Michelle, whenever someone used the longer version of her first name, it meant she was in trouble, but she hated the idea of having to live with strangers even more. So Mitchie gave them the last known number of her only living relative, though she couldn't help but wonder if Steve and Connie would have approved.

She spent the weekend at a group home while she waited for them to try and get through to him. When she was told to pack her bags and wait by the front desk, she figured he'd told them to place her into the faulty court system.

Mitchie was surprised to see the very familiar young man walk through the door. There was a far away look in his eyes.

Time hadn't changed Jason Torres at all.

Of course, every girl in the world knew his as Jason Green, his stage name and their grandmother's maiden name. He'd changed it officially on his eighteenth birthday.

"Michelle..." He muttered. He started towards her, but then thought better of it and stopped. "Sorry, Mitchie. What... How... Are you okay?"

"Mom and dad are dead, Jason." She reminded him, her tone turning cold. "Why on earth would I be okay?"

Jason's jaw tightened, and he suddenly looked angry.

Out of the Torres's two children, Michelle was the only one who hadn't been a total disgrace to Connie and Steve. He'd loved to stay out late and party, their parents hoped that sending him to Camp Rock for three summers would him them out. It had, in some ways, after he'd met two talented young boys by the names of Shane Gray and Nate Black, they had formed Connect 3, now one of the hottest bands in America.

By then, Jason had been kicked out of the family. Connie and Steve had fought with their son constantly, and eventually, none of them could take the tension anymore. When he'd gotten the call, he had been right in the middle of a recording session. As soon as the Social Worker mentioned her name, his face had become grave, and he'd quickly excused himself to take the call, leaving Shane and Nate looking confused and concerned.

Not a day had went by that he hadn't wanted to pick up the phone, call his parents, and apologize for being such a prick, but his ego got the better of him, and now he would never get the chance to say that he was sorry, that he loved them, no matter what. Jason loved Mitchie, and the thought of her being in a group home for that weekend had pissed him off.

Now was his chance to get to know her again.