I'm sorry of how bad this is. -.-" I wrote it in a rush in US History. I don't know why, but I guess this is my present to you guys for sticking with me through my crappy fics. You know I love ya. :D So, anyways, I aced my quiz. (I know, right? A quiz at the beginning of the school year? My teacher's crazy!) Let the celebration begin. :DDD

I think Grady is OOC. -.-" Anyone want to prove me wrong?

I actually wrote this a long time ago. Like... back then when I wrote like crap. I forgot about it... so... Enjoy?

*Inspired by The Problem With Pauly, when Grady said that he'd never even gotten that far with girls.

Disclaimer: I don't own the songs, nor the characters.


Rejection
one-shot
By Audreacity


i. Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend; somewhere along in the bitterness; and I would have stayed up with you all night; had I known how to save a life.


"I'm sorry… Mrs. Mitchell. Grady cannot attend Arcadia Elementary School any longer," he heard her say through the thick door. Ms. Nichols, Grady's principal, had requested that her and his mother should have a little 'talk'. Before, Grady didn't have a clue what it was for.

But now, now he knows.

His mom told him to behave like the good little boy she knew he was. So he sits there like a good boy. Or, perhaps, as good as a nine year old can get when they're sitting on a plastic yellow chair that hurts their bum. Grady fidgeted a little, clearly annoyed and irritated by the yellow chair. The secretary lady with the big, fat, ugly, hairy mole right next to her lip glares at him with utmost hatred.

Grady hears his mother yell, "Well, why not?" loudly, and he saw her get up through the sole window of the office. He cringes, knowing that the classes outside was within hearing distances. The secretary smirked, feeling happy for his misery.

Schadenfruede*, Grady thinks, recalling the new world his father had taught him two days ago before leaving for the military.

Grady peers back into the window, squinting- trying to see what's happening now. His mother's blocking his view. She's standing, hands on her hips, proudly. Grady also sees Ms. Nichols's desk. His view is obstructed, but he can picture his principal, sitting behind her desk, using it as a wall. The very thought almost makes him want to laugh. High and mighty Ms. Nichols, hiding behind her desk of perfect grades, stellar attitude, and obedience- afraid of creativity and originality.

Before he knows it, his mother leaves the principals office. She looks at her son proudly, knowing that he's perfect in her world and that, no matter what anyone else says, she'll always be there for him. They walk, hand in hand, past the mean old secretary with the mole next t her lip, out of the office, and away from the school that declared that Grady Mitchell was to creative and spontaneous for them.

And, even if he did get rejected from that school, Grady felt happy.


ii. I invite you to a world where there is no such thing as time; And every creature lends themselves to change your state of mind; And the girl that chased the rabbit drank the wine and took the pill; Has locked herself in limbo to see how it truly feels; To stand outside your virtue; No one can ever hurt you; Or so they say


Ever since he moved into show business, Grady realized that it was a dog-eat-dog world, and he was but a little puppy. He knew that he had to give it all or nothing, or else he wouldn't succeed. But time and time again, he'd hear, "We'll call you back."

They never did.

He knew, he knew at the tender age of ten, that Hollywood was much like a rollercoaster. And not those good ones that make you vomit from going up and down and left and right. No, it was like those roller coasters that go up and up and up; and, just when you're excited about plummeting down and having the time of your life, it disappoints you.

Sometimes, Grady wished that he was a normal kid like his older brother. His older brother never had to deal with "We'll call you later" or "That was fantastic, we'll see what we can do" or "Are you sure you're giving it your all?". And he most certainly never had to face the blunt rudeness of "You were horrible. Next!"

Grady knew Grant was lucky. Grant was popular. And he didn't have to put up with the pressure of Hollywood.

"Next!" someone calls in a shrill, irritated tone. It reminded Grady of nails on blackboard. His mother gave him a nudge and a go-get-them-and-give-them-all-Grady-Mitchell-has-to-offer smile that made him feel encouraged.

As he walked through the door, all feelings of encouragement left. It wasn't a big crowd; in fact, it was just him and two other people. And, besides, Grady never had a problem with crowds. He felt a knot in his stomach as he stood there, center stage, four eyes staring at him, expecting him to say- or do- something. It was an unfamiliar feeling, stage-fright. It had certainly never happened to him before.

One of the two, a man in a dark grey suit with an impatient frown on his face, cough loudly, giving Grady the sign that he'd better do something soon.

But he couldn't.

Grady, for the first time, forgot his lines. He didn't know what to do and just stood there, squinting from the light. The other person, a woman this time, set down a pencil and sighed. "Sorry kid," she said, not bothering to look up at him. "If you have nothing to say, don't bother wasting our time."

He nodded twice, short and slowly, and walked away from the stage, away from the two and away from the stage fright. Once he got off the stage, he wondered if he even went on it. Looking at his mother with sad eyes, he shrugged and left the audition room with her.

She patted his back comfortingly, saying "You'll get them next time," in a genuinely cheerful voice. Grady didn't hear her, he was too busy thinking to himself.

As he got in the car, Grady couldn't help but smile a bit.

He didn't even want to be in Mackenzie Falls.


iii. Got a secret; Can you keep it?; Swear this one you'll save; Better lock it, in your pocket; Taking this one to the grave; If I show you then I know you; Won't tell what I said; Cause two can keep a secret; If one of them is dead


Grady had never really been the best judge of character. He finds this out when Alex, or, perhaps, his former best friend, started going out with Melanie, the girl he's had a crush on for, like, ever.

Devastation. Anger. Hopelessness. Sadness. It was all too morbid for him.

Without any words spoken, that simple nod of a head made Grady realize that he didn't have a best friend anymore. And, perhaps, he also realized that he probably never had a best friend.

"Though, isn't it?" Grady spun around in shock. This was the first time that anyone besides Alex and his teachers had ever spoken to him (Not including those mean girls who called him a loser). He looked at the boy in front of him, recognizing him as "the annoying guy that always hits on girls". Or, so he had been told.

He nods to himself, giving Grady a small smile. "I'm Nico, by the way. Nico Harris." He extended his hand, a sign Grady took for mutual acceptance.

Looking at the outstretched had, and the warm smile, Grady clasped it, shaking it firmly. "Grady. Grady Mitchell."

"You know what, Mitchell? You're alright."

For the first time in his life, Grady Mitchell got a best friend he could depend on.

And it didn't matter if his life wasn't like Chad Dylan Cooper's. Chad Dylan Cooper never got a friend as cool as Nico Harris anyway.


*Schadenfreude: (German); pleasure derived from the misfortunes of others

iwl: Margaret Atwood
word count:
1,328

Note: I have no idea where the name 'Arcadia Elementary School' came from. If suck a school does exist, I'm sorry but, I doubt Grady Mitchell (Or Doug Brochu) went there. :D Also, I really hate how it turned out. -.-" But it just didn't want to be edited.

Note Number Two: The songs are (in order): How To Save a Life by The Fray; Her Name is Alice by Shinedown; and Secrets by The Pierces. The songs actually don't have much to do with the whole story, those were just the songs I listened to while writing the parts.

You've read. Now, I fully expect you to review. Reviews are wanted, criticism is appreciated, and flames will be accepted. Thank you.