"Why are you hiding?" Are the first words out of his mouth. See, here I thought I was getting to know him well enough to expect every conversation to start with his hair. Apparently I didn't.

"Why are you?" I retorted. I didn't actually know that he was, it was my best guess though. Seeing as the laundry room seemed to be the only abandoned place in the building. I guess once the infamous Connect Three breaks up, the paps find a way in. I held up a small bag of Cheez-Its to him, it was almost empty but he still took a few. "On my way down here, one of them asked me if I was the illegitimate Grey sister."

Shane snorted, shoving the food into his mouth, "Well that's just crazy, you're hair is nowhere nice enough to be a Grey."

I smack him on the back, probably a little too harshly, but where would the fun be in gentle? He chokes. I smirk a little. I mean, didn't anyone ever teach him not to talk with his mouth full? No? Well, I guess I just did then.

He finally coughs himself dry and then he turns back to me, "Where are you guys headed next?" And it kills me that he can't even use his brother's name.

"France," I whisper, looking at my hands. Somehow I regret painting my fingernails orange. Of course, I did it last week before anything was apparently wrong. It's funny how things can turn from perfect to horrendous in about five seconds flat. I mean, just last weekend we were all sitting in Mitchie's living room playing Monopoly. Kevin and I were dancing like crazy to Metro Station while Shane and Nate tried to explain the difference between mousse and hair spray to Ella.

"Paris is pretty this time of year," He says, startling me. To be honest, I'm not sure if my mind is racing so fast that I just ranted a good minute worth in the five seconds it took him to answer or if he's so stunned by today that his reaction was really that delayed. I wouldn't rule out either one.

"We're going to Cannes," I mumble. "To be honest, I don't really even want to go. I Googled it yesterday. It sounds pretty snooty. It's all prestigious film festivals, high end shops and restaurants, and big old mansions."

"Tell Nate that," He pushes himself off the ground, and suddenly he's standing over me. "He's taking you there because he thinks you'll like it."

I shake my head, "He's taking me there because Tess would like it."

"Then tell him that," I look up, and his brown eyes are cold. And I kind of wonder how many of the rumors about the reasons for his being sent to Camp Rock that summer are true. Mitchie assured me they were all fabricated lies…but Mitchie also probably wanted to believe him.

"Hey Shane?" I ask, feeling feeble all the sudden as he licks his lips.

"Yeah," He grumbles, quite huskily might add.

"You really think I'd like Paris?"

I feel his hands press against my knees as he leans in closer to me and my heart stops in my chest, "You wanna find out?"

I almost say yes. I almost just pull his face the rest of the way to mine, but I think I know how this ends. I think he carries me to the elevator, and then he can't stand to make it upstairs. And the security videos get leaked to the press, and I get to see Nate's heartbroken face on the news when they show him the still frames.

So I slap him instead, and run towards the elevator doors alone, arms crossed against my chest. Orange nails aren't for nothing. Girls with nails like mine don't date boys with hair like his for a reason. If I'm orange, Shane Grey is black. I'm the fire, and he's the ashes that follow. And I don't want to go up in the smoke just yet.

Still, as the doors close I can't help but hear the words, "Call me if you change your mind." And I know that at some point, I'll be even more tempted to take him up on that offer than I am right now.

AN: Admittedly, this isn't the best in the world. Caitlyn is fairly OOC and Shane is being a drama queen. This is for 101 Prompts again. And this time it's for Paige (LaPaige's) challenge of 41. France and Shane and Caitlyn.