I Need This Feeling

by CodyRhodesFan

A darker, deeper, rewrite of the Hannah Montana series. Shannon Moore, who poses as Stella Marcella, a FEMALE "innocent" popstar. SLASHY FUN, XP! I love Kassandra.

Based on "I Need This Feeling" from the album, Under Construction, by Amy Schugar and Michael Schenker. It's the second track of this lovely 2003 album, XP. I'm pimping out his album, nice, no? Okay, based on "Hannah Montana" because it needs to be fixed, BADLY. It's a guilty pleasure that I want to change it so bad. I can so come up with the darkest things and the darkest twists and the most terrifying conclusions. :3 And I couldn't do better than Stella Marcella. -_- I'm not gonna do the states thing. That's just stupid.

Well, enjoy, XP. I know I had fun, X3.

{I – N E E D – T H I S – F E E L I N G}

Title: I Need This Feeling
Rated: +18 – violence; and…-_- you should know me by now; male pregnancy; sex; horror; graphicness; pain; there is beauty in a world of horror; that kinda shit
Summary: A darker, deeper, rewrite of the Hannah Montana series. Shannon Moore, who poses as Stella Marcella, a FEMALE "innocent" popstar. SLASHY FUN, XP!
Genre: Friendship/Angst

{I – N E E D – T H I S – F E E L I N G}

I Hate This Secret

PART ONE OUT OF THREE

In real life, a celebrity isn't as innocent as she appears.

In real life, nothing's fair.

In real life, reality will slap you in the face.

In real life, there are no secrets.

Gossip girls & pretty sundresses & pink stilettos will bring the death of you.

[ Shannon's POV ]

"Stella Marcella, she had stormed the pop world, with her unique slightly strong voice, in all perfection, talent and confidence, she took her title as a rising star. Blending in the elements of punk in her pop, she rose quick in the status of a singer and celebrity. Her concert in North Carolina is currently sold out…we hope for this girl to maintain fame, fortune and charisma…"

Feeling sick of hearing my own alterative name over and over again, I shut the screen so that it faded to black and I stood up, wanting to make my way towards the kitchen, feeling insanely famished. The lightheadedness hit my head over and over again as I forced my limp body towards the kitchen door. I was being stopped by my Mother who grinned at me and embraced me as tight as ever. I could feel the tightness of her embrace and the sweet pleasure that overtook my body.

She'd always wanted a little girl to talk to. That was one entirely insane reason Stella Marcella existed. Stella was something she'd always come to see me as, Shannon didn't exist anymore…and I wasn't sure if I was who I was anymore. I was lost into the mask I hid behind up in the glowing lights and the stage and the confidence that stowed upon the stage had left just as I get in and out of there. I could always swear I could her giggles, her power pink heels hitting against the ground and her grinning face. I just smiled at her as she embraced me after every show.

But I knew what she saw. It was obvious. She didn't see Shannon Moore, regular teenage boy with two best friends. She saw me as Stella, a girl she always wanted to have, always wanted to be. She wanted me to be beautiful, she wanted me to be girly and love make up and stilettos and she insanely wanted me to be gay. She was quite an odd Mother but there was nothing else in the world I loved but that shining, beaming brilliance that coated her eyes.

She wanted to be famous, wanted to reach the fame that I had now. It explained all the singing lessons I had as a child, and she'd never allow me to dress in too boyish colors around the house, navy blue and dark brown clothes never made my room…I had to buy them myself and she frowned in pain when I would wear them. She would be slapped with reality once more…that her fantasies were broken so I only wore them outside and she respected that at least but that didn't change her attempts to make me into a family. I was in every beauty pageant, of course, resigning as Stella, and never Shannon Moore. Stella, just Stella. My Mother would pay them a bit extra to not ask any questions, as I wore my fox-colored short-haired wig, hiding behind strands that didn't belong to me. Contact lenses that only made me hate my own eyes. Sometimes, when I looked into the mirror I didn't know if the eyes looking back were mine or some else's.

I had become so used to seeing beautiful navy eyes stare back at me instead of dull green. More than anything, she loved preparing me for the show, to dress me up in the dresses. Golden sequins, powder pink stilettos, bright pink-purple dresses and she loved caking my face with makeup. I never liked looking and facing the mirror once more, to see the damage that she did. She wanted nothing more than for me to finally agree to completely change my gender. Every time she heard the word transsexual, she practically beamed with a grin and I knew her thoughts just instantly.

I could remember my first day as a popstar. I had been discovered at the age of thirteen years old, in a beauty pageant, signed as Stella as my Mother sat down and watched me, with her insane make up and her own red wig, and I just grinned at her and sang some stupid Ke$ha song. She never cared enough to realize that I hated pop all together. I hated rap. I lived with Progressive Death Metal banging into my head. I was born as a male but she didn't want to accept that either, knowing that the only male she ever accepted into her life was my father and she wanted me to be what she wasn't. She wanted to me to be her hopes and dreams, to bathe into my fame and success. At least someone in my family accomplished those.

I remember her watching me when I took off my clothing and make up and the wig and put it into a dark green bag and walk out in a green shirt and black pants and undone hair and she was insanely depressed. She wouldn't talk to me with any happiness in her tone until I wore those heavily flower-scented delicate clothing that she'd constantly bring me. In weeks, Stella was born. Stella was being made. Stella was nothing of Shannon and Shannon was gone to her.

Shannon was irrelevant to her.

And Shannon was irrelevant to Shannon. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why was I raised with a beauty school dropout that just made me feel so sad on the inside when I'd just be who I was? Her career was broken because she was pregnant with me. That was the start of it. She brought pink cribs and lovely little dresses and then her dreams were shattered another time. I was a boy. My Mother and Father constantly fought about it. Whilst the other boys were busy playing football, my Mother was making pigtails with my short hair. She never chopped it and she never let me chop it. I remembered once I told my Father to chop my hair off and the bob didn't make my Mother happy. In order to make her happy, I let her control me.

I watched as years passed. I can apply makeup insanely perfectly. I could tell the difference between the shades of red just by seeing them in the container and how well they'd look against my flesh. I knew how to do my hair, in every way, buns, curls, simply straight; crimped…I knew how to use every feminine hair device ever made. She made me wax, shave, use so much medication for my acne…she did everything. She made me use a ton of lotions, a ton of bath wash products, a ton of conditioner and amplifying products for my hair so that there was a bit of volume. She brought me the most womanly perfumes, hints of delicate flowers and fruity. She hated it when she got a flower that was too edgy and claimed me to be her little Blossom.

She had given me a ton of pills and medication that was tested to make me into a girl every way possible…to make my hormones rise upwards and she made me do dance, ballet, volleyball was the manliest sport I did but I knew the boys in the team thought I was as manly as either one of them. She bought me gushy romance novels, shirts with ruffles, heels in every sizes, and she even forced me to read Twilight. She made me memorize some lines of the insanely ridiculous novel. At a young age, she forced me to watch The Notebook. The thought of sex still scared the shit out of me but she wanted me to do it…most importantly, she wanted my first to be a boy.

She took me over to bakeries and made me eat cupcakes laced with pink and silver decorations and red hearts and it scared me how much her friends were like her. She made me wear the wig and clothing around them and they knew that what was underneath was a boy but they didn't care at all. They were as bad as her. They talked about getting me pregnant and I just laughed in their face. They wanted me to be as girly as I can be as well.

From Taylor to Chloe, they always saw me as some sort of pretty little girl that was ruined with a boy's body and a boy's mind. They wanted to corrupt my thoughts of playing sports and laughing over fart jokes and they wanted to turn me into the very thing they were, they wanted me to be one of them and I just wasn't. When they'd take me out later for dinner, they always made me eat something with few calories and they were insanely shocked when I finished my meal when they only ate half. I wanted to hit them every time they did so. It was barely any food and I wasn't allowed to eat all of it?

And one more thing, they loved taking me to fortune tellers. They gasped and got shocked at their fortunes and would always beg me to do some and I did them only at my Mother's birthday. No time else. I didn't like them at all. They just made me feel paranoid because I believe that there was a bit of truth in them. My Mother wanted to buy me a little dog and put it in a pink tote for me and I wanted to slap her in the face. They took me out shopping for countless of hours, for girly-girly polka-dotted clothing that I was never going to wear and stripes and all these patterns I can never keep up with….they got so angry if men didn't open doors for them and they loved babies more than anything.

And God, they just go around, wanting spa treatments and facials and I waited in the car because I felt so weird, having to walk in a place that women got pampered in but men? I've never seen a male in there and I never will and I won't be there first. Maybe the masseuses but never one actually going to get one. No, that was insane.

Now, I was grinning at my Mother at an alternative person I played that I hated more than ever. Then I heard the sound of the door opening and Jeff standing there in a red shirt and white pants and a beige vest and running over to me and embracing me tightly. "I got tickets to see Stella Marcella." His voice was happy and full of astonishment. "And you're coming with!"

Jeff was so insanely happy and my heart was just racing as he stared at the smirk on Adam's face as he came behind him, 'yeah, Shannon is blowing up with searing happiness. Just look at his face."

I turned my face from a pale mask into a weak smile. "I can't…I…I'm gonna babysit Adam."

Adam Copeland had been living with my broken family on and off. Adam had been sent from Canada by his Mother for a better education and I used to be his best friend before he met Matt in fact and then I was forgotten. Again. It didn't surprise me that people left me. It wouldn't surprise me if Jeff would say he hated me the next second. Adam was older than me. I was fourteen and Adam was twenty and still stuck in school for his goofing off abilities. Of course, the Copeland family saw how well I was doing and decided to send Adam over there for that. Adam and I shared some sort of "brotherhood" but in truth, they we each other more than anything half the time.

"Yeah, and Imma fuck my lovely girl." Adam smirked, slapping towards me and teasing me, holding his hand over my hip and pressing a kiss towards my shoulder and Jeff grimaced in disgust at Adam's 'pretend gay' action. "Adam, stop it! He's straight and you are too in fact."

Adam pulled away and nodded. "Yeah, we're both straight and he's the perfect girl for me."

I just glared at him before slapping him hard on his cheek and turning around towards Jeff, 'so as you can see, I have a lot to work on and he's going on a date tonight so I have to babysit him. Maybe some other time, Jeffro? I promise I'll make it up to you!"

Jeff broke a grin and embraced me as tight as ever. I felt like I couldn't breathe. "You're the best friend ever! I know you'll make it up to me!"

"Hey, hey, that was my slut first!" Adam laughed.

I was in pain at his words but I managed a weak smile and nodded. My Mother's friends always complimented me and left me feeling lovely and sweet and I…I was always seen as something ugly, something horrid, something completely horrendous when I wasn't with them. But when I was Stella Marcella, I was this Barbie doll that people loved and twirled and danced with under the moonlight, just like in my dreams as a youth, just finding Prince Charming.

I sighed. My dreams were hopeless. My fantasies my hopeless. My disguise as Stella Marcella was hopeless.

I was hopeless.

{I – N E E D – T H I S – F E E L I N G}

Stella Marcella's show was insane, raging with people's happiness and lovely uproar and then, I, dressed into my fox-haired wig, and navy contact lenses went into my dressing room and changed into Shannon. It felt so horrible. Changing from success to failure, stripping away all that mattered to me and leaving nothing in Stella's place but Shannon. Nobody cared about Shannon. Shannon didn't even care about Shannon. I sat down onto the floor, with my legs crossing as Adam walked inside and grinned at me. "And…?"

I wanted to hit him. Apparently, his date wanted to see if Adam really knew anything about Stella Marcella and so I had to go back and wear the disguise that took so look to perfect before walking out and there she was, Becky, and Adam, grinning at each other. Becky sat down and I stared at Adam who was begging me to behave for once and I did. I sat down onto the seat and just touching her made her squeal that high-pitched girly shriek that made a little warm smile bathe across my face.

"Oh, I gotta go show you to my friends!" Becky exclaimed and gestured a hand forward. "Come on, Jeff!"

"J-J-Jeff?" I stuttered and there was my best friend running inside atheistically and he and Becky stared at each other before letting a high pitched squeal. And then my Mother texted me at that moment and I stared at the text, almost wanting my heart to explode through my chest. How could I forget about the damn beauty contest? I knew that she was bragging about me being there for weeks and just as I was moving away from Adam, Jeff stared at him, 'where's Shanny? You said he was chaperoning you for your date."

Adam stared at Jeff, 'he had to split. He found a cute girl."

Jeff looked suspicious and stared back at me with a smile of victory. And then I let it out. "Look, I have to prepare for a beauty pageant." I was so glad I didn't hit puberty yet…that my voice could still be high-pitched enough to be a female's and I didn't know what'll happen to Stella after puberty but I was just focusing on now. "I have to get to my Mother now and do the stuff…if you would like to, you can come with-"

Jeff grinned. "Yes, let's go Beck! And Addy, too!"

Adam grinned, 'yeah, Stella. Let's go."

I felt an uneasy feeling at the pit of my stomach, something saying that this wasn't going to go well and that this was going to end in turmoil and horror. I should've listened to it because I should've realized that in real life, nobody could keep any secret for long…no matter how well-kept it was.

{I – N E E D – T H I S – F E E L I N G}

And then I was spread against the cot, my Mother, dressed in her identical Stella Marcella's Mother role. With a fox-haired wig, but wavy instead of straight and bright red make up and dark blue eyes and I just stared at her as wrapped the sash around my sparkly bright fierce red dress. Red and gold were Stella's colors, with the occasional blue shining across and then she put earrings through the holes she made. This was why at Shannon, I had to hide them with a hat or my hair. I couldn't let anyone know my ears were pierced. That was an insanely weird fashion for men. All the males in my class thought so.

Jeff grabbed onto my sash and offered to tie it and I could feel the firmness of Jeff's knot as he looked at me. "God, you're pretty, Stella," Jeff whispered under his breath and blushed. My best friend was hitting on me and it made me flush into the deepest crimson color, the color of my cheeks suddenly matched my dress as the bright pout of my lips stood out in the mirror. "You're ready," Jeff said.

Jeff then looked down at me, as if there was something odd about me but he shrugged it off and let me go out into the stage. I peered through the curtains to realize people were lining up and I was standing there in the middle of the stage, with nobody around me as Jeff stepped out of there with a warm smile on his face. "Um…Stella?"

"Yeah?"

"…can I ask you a question?"

"Why do you do these?"

I fluttered my eyelashes as Jeff held onto my hands and I looked at him. "Because it makes me feel beautiful…" I lied, I couldn't do anything but lie. I hated doing this. I hated putting myself up as a doll and putting my chances up for loss. I hated every bit of it but nobody could know…Jeff had to be fooled as I was.

"You are beautiful," Jeff whispered and then his lips touched mine.

My entire body froze. I wasn't gay and Jeff wasn't. He thought he was kissing a girl of all things…his hands wrapped around my waist as he inched me closer and I pulled away from him, tearing at him and shook my head before running off, breaking off the heel of my shoe and Jeff was staring at me. "Stella, stop! Please!"

He grabbed onto my wrist and turned around to see me. "Your contact lens fell."

Then he stared directly into my eyes. Shannon's eyes and then anger and rage burned through as I put the lens back but I knew the damage was done and he was staring at me with blazing fury into his being as he grabbed onto my hand and stared at my wrist, where a cut Shannon had that week was still there and then with anger, he just pulled me off. "I won't believe you, you bitch!"

Jeff was hurt, confused…maybe he liked it. Maybe I did. I didn't know.

"Jeffy…" my voice was soft. "I'm sorry. I really am. I'm so, so sorry."

"Shannon," he spat out my name like acid. "Shannon, I won't believe how low you stooped this time. All this time, me and Matt worshipped what we thought was a girl…we used to Google pictures of you, just to stick them all in a collage and in the end, this girl we thought and loved and were so obsessed about were nothing but a boy, Shanny. You know I'm not gay."

"I'm sorry," I repeated. "I…I just wanted to be a girl."

Jeff bit down his lower lip. He could understand that bit I hoped. Jeff was girly for a guy. Not gay but a bit girly. He liked exploring both sex's but was raised to strictly be aroused at the sight of a female, not a male. He stared at me in confusion. "I liked it." That was it. Tears formed into his eyes. "It wasn't fair…I liked it…"

"I'm sorry," I repeated once more.

"I liked kissing a boy, Shanny. I liked it." Jeff repeated, turning around and leaving the feeling at the pit of my stomach twist in pain and agony.

"I promise I'll make it up to you." I simply said, staring at his eyes, betrayed, just simply betrayed green eyes staring at me for comfort. "Jeff…I…" there was it. My last resort. I had to use it. I couldn't look at this face of Jeff's anymore.

Then the curtains pulled up and the rest of the contestants walked in and Jeff just stared at me and then in the middle of everyone, he grabbed onto my shoulders and stared at me straight into the eyes and then said, "I'm sorry."

Then, there was a kiss.

And gasps from everyone.

I tore away from Jeff and ran off and people just stared at Jeff as if he were a bad guy and Jeff just stared at me, with tears into his eyes. "I liked it," he said it softly…

{I – N E E D – T H I S – F E E L I N G}

I was curled up into a ball at the forest, the closest place I can run to in these stupid heels and my mascara run and I wasn't pretty anymore and then I heard a sound. "Oh, Stella Marcella…" the voice was deep and I looked up to see…

A gasp fell from my lips.

Mark Callaway. Our neighborhood's serial killer.

{I – N E E D – T H I S – F E E L I N G}

X3. There, that's much better, XP.

I think?

Inspired by a conversation by my love, XP. Hey, I never said I wouldn't add my own twists, XD.

X Sam.