Love Bytes.: There's stuff called sound bytes. But sound doesn't realy bite, does it? Well, love does.

SUMMARY: Everyone's having a career in music, aren't they? Well, there's stuff called sound bytes. But sound doesn't really bite, does it? Well, love does it? Smitchie.

COOKIES AND CUPCAKES: Well, no one's reviewed yet, right? So, I guess there's no cookies or cupcakes from CookieDough. :D

Remember to rate and review, rage and rant, and read and "rite"!

ABOUT COOKIEDOUGH: I'm just your average girl from Vancouver. And Vancouver, British Columbia, as in home of the Canucks (Canucks and Anahiem Ducks junkie.) I love writing. I'm best friends with my pen and paper as Taylor Swift is with her guitar. I play the piano, viola (It's a cross between a cello and a violin), drums, bass guitar, ukulele, and the recorder.

I'm usually the girl who feels okay about hanging with guys and girls. You can see me hanging around the basketball courts or whacking a baseball. However, I do have a girly side, where I'm in lip gloss obsession. :D

OTHER STORIES: My other full story is Crush, and I have a 2-part oneshot series.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Camp Rock, Camp Rock characters, Secret Valentine by We The Kings, Cross My Heart by Marinas Trench, or Miss Independent by Ne Yo.

We'll write a song, That turns out the lights
When both boy and girl start suddenly shaking inside
Don't waste your time
Speed up your breathing
Just close your eyes
We'll hope it's not for nothing at all...

Secret Valentine-We The Kings

6:30 P.M, Camp Rock, Lakeside, August 21.

Two shadowy figures sat by the lake, talking. One was a tall, handsome young man, with black hair and brown eyes, and the other was a girl, with long brown hair and sparkling brown eyes. The girl had her arms wrapped around her legs, and the boy had his arm around her, his chin on her head.

"I can't believe the summer's already over." The girl sighed, leaning on the boy. The boy kissed the top of her head. "I know." He breathed. "So what are you planning to do after the summer?" The boy looked thoughtful, and then replied firmly, "I guess Connect Three's going to be touring around. And I'm still taking my university classes." The girl nodded understandingly, and she kept silent for the rest of the time.

"You know I don't want to leave you, either." The boy said softly. The girl looked up at him and sighed again. "I know." "Look, I'll call. I promise." The boy said, pulling her closer. "But what if you stop? What if you don't call?" The girl raged, now frowning. The boy faltered, but then started again. "I won't, I promise."

"How will I know that you'll keep your promise?" The girl was stubborn, and wouldn't let go. "You just will. Trust me." The boy was sincere and quiet now, but the girl stood up abruptly and ran away, her hand stroking a tear away from her eyes.

The boy just sat there, staring at the lake. What I've done, he mumbled softly. A sudden chirping of the crickets followed, showing the boy just how alone he was.

3:00 P.M, Mitchie's Flat, L.A.

Mitchie Torres

I had totally DOZED OFF. Like, seriously, dozed off into dreamland. You can't blame me-I mean, I was so comfortable, my arms propped up on the lime green pillows made by mom (Yeesh...She might be a professional cook, but man, she can sure SOW.) and my head resting on one of those squishy neck thingys. Relaxation much?

It was a call from my cell phone from Caitlyn that totally shocked me. Seriously, one minute, I'm in la la land, and then the next, I'm jumping from the couch, frantic and confused. As soon as I heard my ringtone (Don't laugh-It's "Gotta Find You" by Shane. Gray. Shane Gray.) I flipped open the phone.

"Hello?" I asked, all manners intact. Being a super celebrity means manners, manners, MANNERS. Seriously, you've gotta be nice to be successful. You can't start snapping at your fans-Because I've had just about a million fans scream into my ear from my phone. And bad press is way terrible for your image.

"MITCHIE!!!" A voice screamed from the other end. I sighed. "Hey Caitlyn." I said, rolling my eyes and twisting a strand of my long, brown hair. It was now rather wavy, and was the color of cherry wood. I flipped my bangs to the side. "MITCHIE, YOU ARE IN HUGE TROUBLE. HUGE!" Caitlyn shouted once again into the phone, and I had to pull my cellular away from my ear.

"Why?" I asked, pacing around the room, wondering what I had done wrong. As a mega celebrity, you often do a million things wrong. "Mitchie, you have a meeting with your agent! Ya know, Leigh Kastoris?" The phone fell from my hands and I gasped. Leigh! I'd forgotten! She told me a week ago that we had a special visitor that I would be doing a single with-GAH!

I quickly ran upstairs and put on a long red t-shirt, a short black vest (With the CUTEST buttons ever!), black skinny jeans, and dangly star earrings. I decided to skip my makeup but combed my hair, and stepped into my checkered slip on shoes. I flipped my hair back and took my black messenger bag, stuffing some lip gloss, cash, my phone, and wallet into it. I slung it over my shoulder and ran, waiting for the next bus.

Did I tell anyone that I can't drive? That's right. THE Mitchie Torres CANNOT drive. At all. Nada. And she's nineteen. NINETEEN. God, even I can't believe that I'm that old already.

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3:30 P.M, Hollywood Records, L.A.

Shane Gray

I hadn't seen Mitchie Torres in years. Even though we met once or twice at the Grammys, the Academy Awards, and maybe even Dick Clark's New Year's Eve, (And she was breathtakingly beautiful as always) we hadn't said a single word to each other since I was nineteen and she was sixteen. Now, I'm twenty-one and Connect Three's career is still sailing along, having sold all four of our albums as platinum.

I'm going to seen her soon. I hope. Our meeting was planned at 3:15 and she's 15 minutes late. Leigh keeps apologizing and saying sorry, but, seriously, I'm wondering if she knew that I was coming and that she's standing Leigh and I up.

I sat with my hands clasped on the wooden table, looking at my fingers. I was starting to think about the itch on my neck-My black suit collar was really uncomfortable. I would be much happier in a t-shirt and shorts.

Suddenly, there was a loud banging sound as the frosted glass door was pushed open. I was surprised the door didn't break and crumble into little pieces. When I saw who had entered, I held my breath, even though I knew who it was going to be. Mitchie Torres.

__________________________________________________________________________________

3:30 P.M, Hollywood Records, L.A.

Mitchie Torres

My messenger bag was half slipping off my shoulder as I ran into the small, modern office. There was a long, wooden table, shaped like an oval, in the middle of the room, and framed art made by local artists were hung on the cream walls. In a corner, a silver cylinder of a lamp sat, with a crystal bowl of mint candies sitting beside it. I quickly pushed open the door and cringed as it bumped loudly against the wall.

"Hey Leigh, sorry I'm-" But I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw who was sitting at the other end. Long, black hair, combed straight, brown eyes, muscular (Bad, bad Mitchie.) build. Shane Gray. "Whoa, sorry, wrong room!" I turned on my heel and was speedwalking to the door when Leigh stopped me. "This IS the artist you're going to be collaborating with, Mitchie. Shane Gray."

That's when everything turned black.

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Take me with you
I start to miss you
Take me home
I don't wanna be alone, tonight.

-Cross My Heart, Marinas Trench

3:45, Mitchie's Flat, L.A,

Shane Gray

"SHE WHAT?" The voice said from the other end of the phone. "I'm coming right over." The voice seemed to snap at me, to growl at me. I heard a click from the other end and gave a sigh of relief, then ran over to the kitchen and rolled my sleeves up to my arm. I had taken the suit off, ending up wearing the white shirt underneath and the black pants. My forehead was sweaty, some strands of my long hair sticking to it, and my tie was really starting to bother me.

I wrung the towel in the sink and ran over to Mitchie, who was still lying there. Her eyelids lifeless but her breathing still normal. I put the towel over her forehead, and sat down on the armchair, staring at her as I waited for Caitlyn to come.

I was still waiting for Caitlyn when Mitchie woke up. "Hey." I said softly, as she sat herself up. I went to help her, but she had pulled herself all up already. "Hey..." She said, akwardly. "How are you feeling?" I asked, worriedly. "What-what happened?" She asked. I stared at her confused face, her fingers pulling away at a lock of chestnut hair.

"You fainted after Leigh told you I was working with you for your new single." She looked a little freaked after, but kept her control and took in a deep breath.

Was working with me really that difficult?

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Kinda women that want you but don't need you
Hey, I can't figure it out, there's something about her
Cuz she walk like a boss, talk like a boss...

She got her own thing,

That's why I love her,

Miss Independent,

Won't you come and

Spend a little time...

-Miss Independent, Ne Yo

12:15, Mess Hall, July 14.

Shane Gray was intrigued by Mitchie Torres at first sight. It wasn't just how dazzling her natrual beauty was-It was how she was so independent, so free, and how she had her own mind. She wasn't about to take crap from anyone-Even him, a super celebrity from the small town of Wyckoff, New Jersey. The first time she saw him (and he saw her) in the flesh, she ranted on about how his personality was worse than fresh manure, how he was a joke, how he sucked, and how he was just so...so...Uncool to her.

And that's how Shane Gray was attracted to her. It was her unique personality, her negative thoughts on him that pulled him in, made him putty in her hands. He loved how she didn't care that he was a rock star, she just treated him like someone normal. And he also loved how she was hardworking and kind-The perfect package.

So when she strode in, laughing along with full-time mother dog Caitlyn Gellar, (He didn't understand how such a wonderful person like Mitchie could be friends with the spunky punk.) his breath was stopped short. She might just be wearing a purple graphic t-shirt and black jeans, but she was beautiful, gorgeous.

The moment she sat down and started talking with Barron, Sander, Lola, and Caitlyn, he wanted her attention. He wanted her attention so badly, he craved it. It was something he needed, something that made his heart ache like hell. He stood up and grabbed a ketchup bottle and shook it, hard, seeing as Mitchie was eating a hot dog.

"Hey Caitlyn. Lola. Barron and Sander." He said brightly, taking long strides and sitting beside Mitchie. "Um, hello?" Mitchie said, half-frowning. Shane thought that the half-frown was absolutely adorable, it was one of his favourite facial expressions of her. "Oh! Torres, didn't see you there." He said, trying as genuinely as possible to fake surprise.

Mitchie rolled her eyes and got back to chatting to Caitlyn. "Torres, it looks like you need some lipstick on those chapped lips." Shane said, and took out the ketchup bottle. "Wha-?" Mitchie started, but Shane started squirting the ketchup on her lips.

"SHANE GRAY!" Caitlyn screamed, as she jumped up from the table and tried to tackle him down. Shane could hear Tess and her stupid clones laughing in the background, and could see Lola, Sander, and Barron try to comfort Mitchie as they handed her napkins.

Shane grinned at Mitchie. "Cleaned it all up?" He asked. "SHANE GRAY YOU-" She started once again, furiously. "You missed a spot." He said cheekily, and leaned in, pressing her into a hard kiss.

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3:50, Mitchie's Flat, L.A

Mitchie Torres

The first thing that I noticed about Shane Gray when he was in my apartment was that he was hot. He was really hot, with the arms of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows, some beads of sweat on his forehead, which made the front hairs wet and curly, and his perfect face with the full lips, caramel brown eyes, and model-esque nose.

I felt like I had slept for forever without eating. Because, seriously, I was hungry. Really, really hungry. And then the churning in my stomach stopped when Shane said the words, "You fainted after Leigh told you I was working with you for your new single." I felt sick now and really...just sick. Nasty. Ugh.

I don't know what was in my stomach, butterflies or a lurch. Anyways, all I know was that I had completely zoned out, because Shane was waving his hand by my face.

It was going to be a long time to finish that single.