A.N: Hey guys. I'm sorry it's taken me forever to update ANYTHING, but I've been busy with school, drumline, meeting John Green, and other stuff, as well as my computer breaking and debating my parents untill they let me get the tablet, and here I am. so no, Daemon isn't dead.

I saw the movie like, Thursday, and wrote this during school Friday, while it's still fresh in my brain. The movie actually wasn't as cheezy as I'd thought it would be, and so I'm writing for HSM. Wow. I'm sorry guys.

I'm suprised at how fast people started reading this. I already have a review? This has only been up like, an hour! That's awesome. DFTBA, my awesome reviewer. I love you.

The title is a shortened version of "Love Me Cancerously", which I didn't use because that's a song title and the story has nothing to do with the song. It has to do with the fact cancer spreads quick and is a bitch to get rid of (pardon my French, little kiddies). And that's kind of the way things turn out in this; There's something forming that spread quick and the people involved can never get rid of it. Also, it may (it's mentioned in the summary, man) be taken literally, and someone may actually get diagnosed with cancer. You never know. It may all be a clever ploy to gt you to read my story. -shrugs-

So, here's Cancerously, my first HSM fic. Note that anything you recognise doesn't belong to me. Also, the song mentioned is titled "Looking for Alaska", and the song IS written by Liane Ghram (but I think I mispelled her name) who can be found at /lianeandthemusic and /lianeandthemusic or /fiveawesomegirls. She's Friday. The Ning is a reference to , not owned by me but instead owned by Hank Green who I met and got a highfive from and I made him break his guitar. I'm sorry, Hank. The song lyrics on Nikki's jeans are from a song called "Book Eight" by Hank Green, and the mentioned lyric is: "and I want JK Rowling to say that/The epiloge was crap, cause we all know it was crap and" and "I know alot of people want to hear the tale/Of the mysterious veil/I really do think its a dimensional portal/and I think Sirius is in Middle Earth". So yeah. I own none of that. However, in chapters to come I will have songs I actually wrote, which can be found (I warn you, with bad singing and sound quality) at /semiandhearts.

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rocketman

"Mr. Zara!" the algebra teacher shouted after me. I stopped, turning slowly, knowing Mr. Calin would have a detention for me. "Running through the halls again, Mr. Zara?" he asked, taking out the pink paper. "AND a tardy?"

"Aw, c'mon!" I groaned, this hot blonde chick walking by. "What about her?" I asked, gesturing in her direction. Then it clicked in my brain that this chick was pretty damn fine. "Hey," I called after her, but she'd turned into the Drama room.

"Mr. Zara, Miss Evans has an excuse, something you like to make up. She was in the theatre with Miss Neilson arranging the music for the spring musical. Now…" he told me. Evans? Like, Sharpay Evans? Oh god.

Another girl came strolling down the hall, hands in the pockets of white skinny jeans (on which she has Sharpied lyrics involving Harry Potter. Something about Sirius being in Middle Earth and the epilouge being crap), drumsticks in her back pockets, and a black button up shirt over a purple Jack's Mannequin tee. She had light brown hair under her hat (I'm still amazed this school is so loose on dress code), strands left down to frame her face and cover her left icy blue-green eye. And she didn't even care that she was so late and that teachers were swarming the halls. Sounds like my kind of girl.

"Miss? Miss!" Mr. Calin shouted. She turned to face him, but continued down the hallway backwards.

"Yeah?" There was a light Australian air to her voice, but I may have just been around Tiara too much.

"Where are you supposed to be?"

"Like I know?"she replied, shrugging.

"Well, do you have a pass?"

"You see one on these skinnies?" she asked, gesturing to her legs. I tried not to laugh.

"What's your name, Miss?" Mr. Calin asked, his face getting purple from frustration.

"Nicole Carson," she said, stopping for a bow. "See you in band, Rocketman!" she shouted to me, gave a quick salute, then walked down the stairs.

Band? How'd she know I was in band? And oh my god. Nicole Carson knew my name.

nikki

"What's your name, Miss?" the math teacher dude asked. I debated whether to give him a fake name, but then I blurted out my real one.

"Nicole Carson," I said, with a little courtsey. Coming up, I noticed who the brunette kid getting the detention was. Jimmie. As in, Jimmie Zara. As in, the Rocketman Zara. Like, the Rocketman that made the winning shot at the championship game last night. "See you in band, Rocketman," I toldd him, saluting, and then walked down the stairs.

Now, I'd never admit it, but I was a HUGE theatre geek. That's why last year I skipped P.E. all year and sat in on Ms. Sikma's drama class. And that's why I straight walked out of Mrs. Rivera's science class and headed straight for the theatre. I sat on the stage and just waited. I had no idea what I was waiting for, just that it wasn't coming soon enough.

Looking around, I saw that backstage there was an acoustic guitar leaning against the piano. Standing, I walked back and grabbed it, then brought it back out to Down Center Stage and sat again. It was a bit big, and really out of tune, but within five minutes I had it to a nice E, and then started playing around with some stuff.

I played an a minor, then switched to F, to C, to G, and held the progression. I just watched the second fret of the neck, just watching it was I played. Watching the strings get concealed by my fingers, watching my black fingernails make the chords. Then I started singing the words.

"I hope you're somewhere warm and white, like the flowers in your car…" I started, feeling the tears in my eyes. I loved the song, and the book it was based on. But the book made me cry. And so did the song. "But you've escaped this labrynth of suffering, wherever you are... I have a piece of you, tucked away deep inside my mind, memories of your poetry, and drinking your cheap wine…" The tears started rolling down my face, and I could hear my voice quiver.

"That's amazing," I heard someone say. They started walking down the aisle. I immideatly stopped strumming and acted as if I had never been playing. "Did you write that?" the girl asked me.

"Er, no," I replied hesitantly. I hated admitting I played guitar. It was a little cliched, and I was no Wizard Rocker. So I never filmed any of the songs I learned or wrote, and I never told anyone on the Ning. And here some girl at school had caught me. "Liane Ghram did."

"Well, Liane's amazing. I'm Kelsi, by the way," she said.

"Nikki," I replied.

"And you can call me the Rocketman," I heard from the back row, and looking up I saw Jimmie Zara standing on the arms of a chair by the east door.

Oh god.

Well, I hoped you liked it, and more chapters are to come! Love, Daemon