Disclaimer: I don't own Lizzie McGuire. The show belongs to Disney.
A/N: Wow, it's been a while since I wrote "All By Myself". If you haven't checked it out yet, I strongly encourage you to do so even though it is not a Lizzie McGuire fanfic. I decided to write this story since I am currently being bitten by the nostalgia bug. This is also touches on the topic of an English paper I wrote last spring where I attempted to define the concept of "happiness". This will make more sense as this story goes on.
In this story, I will be telling it mostly from Lizzie's POV. I will also be including several old school pop songs which, I believe, are relevant to the plot.
What Dreams are (Really) Made Of
Chapter 1: On top of the World
My name is Lizzie McGuire. You may remember me as the clumsy, ordinary girl from the boring suburb of Hillridge.
Back in the summer of 2003, shortly before my high school debut, I decided to embark on a journey to the greatest city on earth, Rome. I did this because I felt the need to escape my boring middle class lifestyle. I initially felt that it was very restrictive and prevented me from reaching my true potential. Throughout middle school, I was simply an ordinary girl who had two friends, had a HUGE crush on Ethan Craft and a hopeless love life. I felt that a trip to Rome would change all of this and it did. In fact, I had the greatest moment of my life; my "Wrestlemania Moment" (learned it from Gordo, who went through a wrestling phase too just like every other guy!).
Flashback:
Shortly before I walked through the curtain, I had goose bumps all over my body. I mean, I was just an ordinary American girl, after all. I never thought I would find myself performing in front of thousands of screaming fans.
I hesitantly walked through the curtain onto the stage. Paolo entered from the opposite side.
Have you ever seen such a beautiful night?
Just when I was ready to lip sing, I was surprised to hear Isabella's voice singing for me. She had just saved me (and herself, for that matter) from a major embarrassment which would have permanently destroyed her career, which I later found out was Paolo's plan all along. He just wanted to use me to make it happen.
I could almost kiss the stars for shining so bright…
When I see you smiling I go, oh, oh, oh… Paolo's real voice echoed throughout the arena.
I would never want to miss this…
Cuz in my heart, I know what this is… My, oh my, he is such a terrible singer!
This is what dreams are made of …. "Sing to me, Paolo," challenged Isabella.
This is what dreams are made of… The crowd has had enough and they booed Paolo out of the coliseum.
Just when I thought I could finally avoid another embarrassing moment, Isabella challenged me to put on a performance for the capacity crowd on hand. And I was glad she did.
Hey now! Hey now!
This is what dreams are made of…
Hey now! Hey now!
This is what dreams are made of…
I've got somewhere I belong,
I've got, somebody to love,
This is what dreams…. Dreeeaaams… This is what dreams are made of!
The crowd responded by giving me a standing ovation. It was absolutely electric. The words of that song rang true that night. Even for a moment, I had finally found my place in this world. I learned that I actually had the intangible "it" in me the whole time which I refused to acknowledge for all these years.
After the performance, Gordo and I decided to sneak away to the rooftop for the last time.
"So are you gonna miss it here?," he asked me.
"I don't know. Kate says I should just stay and have my stuff shipped over from home. Because when I go back, it'll never be the same…"
"Well Kate's wrong as usual," he said.
"You think?"
"You didn't have to be in Rome for all this to happen," he said. "You had it in you the whole time."
His words of confidence finally got through my thick head. I was at a loss for words.
So I decided to do the unthinkable.
"Gordo," I said with confidence. Then I grabbed his face and planted a sweet kiss on his lips.
When I pulled away, I looked away. He seemed speechless as well. Then he replied with his most brilliant line yet, "Thanks."
End of flashback.
Yup. Those were the good old days. Gordo was right. High School did turn out to be a totally different ball game. At that time I thought I was making the right choices. Hey, I was on a roll! Boy, was I wrong…
A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. If you read my other stories, you'll notice that I always set the stage with a flashback. The real story begins in the next chapter. Stay tuned.