It was always a tradition to pass out the Remembrance Books on the last day of Camp Rock. During breakfast, the books were distributed table by table as the campers spoke in excited voices, wondering how many pictures they appeared in this year and if there was a picture of the alleged swamp monster (or something equally ridiculous).

After reminiscing the fond memories behind each picture, everyone would finally get to the last couple pages of the book reserved for contact information. Each camper's phone number was listed next to their name and a blank space was provided for e-mail addresses.

Evidently, the camp thought it was more personal to give e-mail addresses rather than phone numbers. E-mail addresses could only be received by personally asking the campers to write it in their books.

Caitlyn thought the whole shtick was idiotic.

She didn't want a book that reminded her of the "good times" that she wasn't even there for. Why did she care if Marjorie Hodge fell into the lake and they caught her sputtering and flailing her arms about on camera? She wasn't there; it didn't make her reminisce and wish she could have seen that epic moment. She had a damn good memory and no book had to help her remember little, pointless instances.

And then there was the whole "hey, let's give your phone number to a bunch of people without your consent." She didn't want people like Fred Alves (grade A stalker – yes, all of the list was checked off when it came to him: large, a shadow of a mustache, buggy eyes, and a high voice) calling her phone in the middle of the night and then breathing heavily into the mouthpiece when he couldn't remember what he was going to say.

Caitlyn cringed. She'd much rather have her e-mail address listed and then she'd have the choice of answering or not. But now, with the books clutched in everyone's hands, she was already doomed to her fate.

Let the creepy calls from Fred commence.

Sighing, Caitlyn began munching on a piece of bacon, watching the gossiping girls in front of her.

"Are you sure they're still here?" The first one was brunette with her curled hair piled high on her head, pulled into an awkward bun by a white headband. Her huge hoop earrings swung as she tossed her head around while talking.

Caitlyn raised her eyebrows at the girl.

The other, a blonde who was trying to mimic the brunette's look and failing miserably, answered, "I saw them in the office this morning before breakfast, talking to Brown."

The brunette stood up so quickly that she shook the table. "We need to get their e-mail addresses," she announced, pulling on the blonde's hand.

And then they were practically running out of the dining hall, their loud whispers of "We're going to be the only ones to get Connect 3's personal information!" echoing in Caitlyn's ears.

Caitlyn looked to the side to see Mitchie sitting down next to her, a frown on her usual cheerful face.

Taking a good look at the sullen girl, Caitlyn nudged her. "How can you be frowning when we have our awesome, amazing, new Remembrance books?" she joked.

Mitchie shrugged. "It's nothing." She grabbed a piece of toast, busying herself by slowly spreading jam across it. She took a minute to add, "Shane just left and I went to say goodbye."

Caitlyn stopped herself from grinning at the thought of the two gossiping girls crying outside, realizing they had missed their chance. Instead, she gave Mitchie a sympathetic look. "Did you at least get his e-mail address?"

She tried say it seriously, but Mitchie couldn't help but laugh. "Shut it about your fascination with these Remembrance books, will you?" She grabbed Caitlyn's book from under her tray, opening it to the last page.

She expected Mitchie to immediately begin scribbling her e-mail address next to her name, but instead, Caitlyn watched as Mitchie stared at the page for the longest time, as if her eyes were transfixed to the list of names.

"Your name is here," Caitlyn finally helped, laying down her finger on Torres, Mitchie. "And...okay, just stare at your name. That's cool too."

"Who's this?" Mitchie finally spoke.

Caitlyn let out a relieved sigh, momentarily worried that Mitchie had gone mute on her. Leaning over, she looked at where Mitchie was pointing.

A Chaos Contentment – IM

Caitlyn raised her eyebrow and grabbed the book. "I don't know. I haven't given my book to anyone else." Examining the neat scrawl, she squinted her eyes and brought the book to her face. "A chaos contentment? That's not even possible."

"It's sort of poetic," Mitchie exclaimed, taking the book out of Caitlyn's hands. "Are you sure no one else had a chance to grab your book when you weren't looking?"

Caitlyn gestured to her tray. "It's been sitting under here since I got it from Dee."

Both girls leaned over the book and stared at the mysterious screen name for awhile. "At least we know one thing," Mitchie finally proclaimed. Caitlyn looked over at her with a curious expression. "They obviously want to confuse you. They didn't even put it next to their name."

Caitlyn sighed loudly, leaning back. "I just hope it isn't Fred Alves," she muttered.

Even Mitchie shuddered.

-x-

Caitlyn had only been home for two hours before she found her way into her room, throwing her bag carelessly on her freshly-made bed. Taking her laptop out of her case, she quickly plugged it in and let it start up.

"You just got home, Caity!" She could hear her mom berating her from the doorway.

Caitlyn was quick on her feet. "I promised Mitchie that I would IM her as soon as I got home," she explained, pulling out her desk chair.

"Why don't you call her?"

Caitlyn grimaced. "The internet is easier," she vaguely gave her reason. It was true – Caitlyn much preferred the internet over calling someone. There wasn't the chance of awkward silences in internet conversations.

Her mom just sighed in exasperation and Caitlyn heard her leave down the stairs.

After connection to the router, Caitlyn brought up her IM service and added two screen names – Mitchie's and the mysterious "A Chaos Contentment" person. Mitchie's name showed up in the "online" section but the mystery person went to the bottom of her buddy list, next to the offline friends.

Caitlyn! Mitchie didn't waste any time messaging her. How was your trip?

It was fine. She waited, watching the cursor blink.

Is he online?

Mitchie didn't even need to explain for Caitlyn had been waiting for the question. No. And how do you know it's a 'he'?

A pause. The hopeless sap in me thinks it would be adorable?

Caitlyn had to laugh at that. Watch out – it's going to be Fred now.

Anyone but him!

A window popped up in the corner of Caitlyn's screen. 'A Chaos Contentment is online.' She stalled, staring at the little screen with wide eyes.

Just as she was wondering what to do, another box covered the previous one and informed her that he was now offline.

A whole ten seconds – how lengthy.

He was just online for about ten seconds. Caitlyn told Mitchie.

Don't worry. He has to get online sometime.

And so, Caitlyn waited.

The next time he got online was two days later. It was nearing midnight and Caitlyn was thinking about crawling into her comfy bed when the familiar box appeared on the screen.

She moved her cursor over to the box, double clicking quickly.

The IM box appeared on the screen and Caitlyn hastily typed 'who are you?'. Shaking her head, she pressed down the backspace button and replaced it with 'hello.'

And send.

Caitlyn waited with baited breath for an answer, hoping that it wouldn't say "HI, IT'S FRED, YOUR STALKER."

Instead, she was greeted with the message 'A Chaos Contentment is now offline.'

Offline already! After what – two minutes? What was the point of having instant messenger when nobody had the chance to even send a message?

Caitlyn silently fuming, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms. All she wanted was to finally figure out who this mystery person was. Did he know he was toying with her? Was he doing it on purpose?

She drummed her fingers against her desk and waited, not succumbing to the sleep that threatened to close her eyes.

He didn't get back online until three days later when Caitlyn was too busy mixing a new song to notice. She only noticed the 'offline' message and swore underneath her breath at her unfortunate timing.

How long had he been online? Was it the one time he was online for longer than two seconds and she entirely missed it?

After slamming her head down on the desk a couple times, Caitlyn brought out her Remembrance book again, opening to the infamous page.

Her mystery person couldn't be a girl – even with the neat writing, it was too much of a scrawl to belong to anything but a guy. She squinted hard at the loopy words, trying to get something, anything, out of the handwriting.

It looked somewhat familiar – but didn't all writing have similar qualities? And it wasn't as if she collect signatures; she wouldn't know where to even start looking.

Her breath caught in her throat even before her thought process finished. She hastily pulled up one of her drawers, reaching inside to grab a stack of posters she had recently taken down from her walls (the posters arranged in odd places all over her room were a little too tacky for her liking).

She reached her the poster she was looking for and pulled it out of the stack to hold in front of her eyes.

It couldn't be -

And yet, when she held it next to the signature in her Remembrance book, she knew that there was no doubt about it.

It was him.

-x-

She waited almost too patiently for him to get online (even if it was just going to be for those few crucial seconds). To pass the time, she played with an anagram searcher she had found last year while looking for games to take her mind off of the stress of producing. (Caitlyn's favorite anagram was Britney Spears. It anagrammed to Presbyterians.)

Caitlyn Gellar - A Taller Clingy.

Mitchie Torres - Meteoric Shirt.

She paused and then quickly put in a familiar name.

Sonata Them – not what she was expecting.

And then, in a flash of genius, she added another word at the end. It made all the difference for the sixth result down was something that made her lips curl into a smile.

Three brilliant words were staring back at her.

She had her message already typed in the box, waiting for confirmation to send. She wasn't going to miss it this time.

Get online, get online, get online... Caitlyn repeated the mantra in her head. It was late at night and based on the previous pattern, he was going to get online anytime now.

Her finger reactively pressed down on the enter key as soon as the box popped up. Caitlyn moved back, watching the screen intently for any response.

He was still online.

Her message was dark against the white background as the cursor blinked innocently at the end of her words.

Hello Nate.

He didn't get offline, but there was no answer. Caitlyn couldn't help but let the worry bubble up in her stomach. What if it wasn't even him? What if she was wrong?

She didn't like to be wrong.

Seconds passed and no answer appeared on the screen.

Caitlyn let out a slow sigh to release the awful tension in her lungs. She should have just said hello or how are you or something that wouldn't have put her in this situation.

How could she think that it was him? There were probably better things that Nate Thomas of Connect 3 had to do. Talk to Caitlyn Gellar couldn't be that high on the list.

She jumped, sliding off of her chair when a buzzing broke the silence. Scrambling to her feet, she reached across the desk for her vibrating phone.

Not even bothering to check the screen, she answered the call. "Hello?"

"How did you figure it out?"

She almost dropped the phone. After clearing her throat, she finally said, "Anagrams."

He laughed softly and she found herself smiling because of it. "I should have known you would figure it out."

"How?" she cut him off, anxious for some answers. Her head was spinning and she wanted to know how and why and anything else he could tell her.

There was a short silence, and then his soft voice. "I just – um, wanted to – I didn't want to leave without talking to you again and, even though I had your phone number from the Remembrance book thing, I asked Brown if I could – it was stupid, wasn't it?"

Caitlyn couldn't help but laugh. "Only stupid because you can't stay online for longer than two seconds."

"I'm sorry!" he immediately began apologizing. "Ive been so busy and everything and I didn't-"

She laughed again. "It's okay. Just one question though."

He paused. "Okay."

"Why did you call me instead of replying to my message?"

Caitlyn thought he wasn't going to answer; the silence was almost as long as the wait for his internet messages. She could hear his rapid breathing on the other line and Caitlyn desperately wanted to ask if he was okay (he could have been having a panic attack or something and she would have never known).

It was a quiet whisper; she had almost missed it. But she didn't and there it was, soft and absolutely perfect.

"I'd much rather hear your voice."

It took her a Nate-sized silence for her to even reply. "You're crazy," she muttered, looking down at the floor.

And he took his normal-sized silence to respond but, for the first time, Caitlyn wouldn't have had it any other way.


Nate Thomas Connect 3 (excluding the 3) anagrams to A Chaos Contentment. And I know there's the whole "what's Nate's real last name?" and all, so I used it to create an actual okay sounding-anagram.

So, yeah. A random Camp Rock one-shot. It's crazy if you've read my previous stuff (I should be writing the previous stuff actually).

Leave a review if you enjoyed it. I did rather have fun writing something so different. Thanks for reading!