Welcome to my new story This Is Me.
Hopefully some of you read my other Smitchie fanfic (which is still in progress) and hopefully I have got some new readers. So check them out if you haven't already and also follow me on Twitter (MoliverFanFic), I'm always up to talking to people. ;)
This is completely different from my other stories and I have really enjoyed writing this, I have planned it out and am really excited about where it is going.
I have quotes from songs at the start of the chapters, they pretty much reflect the chapter in some way and helped me write the chapter. Also there will be flashback in italics every chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own Camp Rock...I wish I did though :P
This Is Me: Chapter 1
Well, some may say I need to be afraid of losing everything, because of where I had my start and where I made my name. Well, everything's the same in the La La Land machine.
La La Land - Demi Lovato
"You are going back to Camp Rock."
"I'm what?" I asked my manager, after my initial shock wore off.
"You heard me," She told me, "It will be good PR. You will be returning to the place that helped make you big."
"You can't tell me what I'm doing." I challenged her, "I don't care if it is good PR or not, anyway my publicist is the one dealing with my image."
"Well your publicist seems to think that it's a good idea, she came to me about it after seeing pictures of you there last year. So I went to the label on your behalf and proposed for you to go back there as an instructor."
"You can't do that! I am not going and that's the end of the story!" I defied her.
"Think again, the label loved the idea as they did the same for Shane Gray last year and that proved successful."
I flinched slightly at the name, I didn't want to hear that name and she knew it.
Christina was my manager; she was slim, blonde, attractive and in her mid-thirties. She was one of the few that I dealt with who would actually challenge me and call me out on my bullshit.
My first manager lasted a few months and the manager after her lasted not even half of that. They couldn't handle my 'attitude' and quit as a result.
There was nothing wrong with my attitude, I paid them to work for me and in return they had to listen to me and try and get me as many opportunities as possible.
Christina however could handle me; no matter how rude I was to her she didn't take it personally.
"I don't want to go back to that place, I have a tour to prepare for that starts during Camp Rock anyway." I reminded her.
"The label has decided to push it back until after the summer."
"They did what?" I exploded.
"I may have only known you for five months now but they seem to think you are in need of an attitude adjustment." She replied, not reacting at all to my outburst.
"What are they talking about?" I snapped at her.
"Mitchie, you may be the hottest new singer in America but everyone who works with you kind of wishes that they don't have to cross paths with you again. Face it Princess, you can't keep on going like this, you will lose everything. You're not the same girl America fell in love with."
I ignored the name she called me, I hadn't been called that in a long time.
"I'm better than I have ever been like this. Nothing is wrong with me at all." I said through my clenched teeth.
Sure I had made a few mistakes in the past year, but I was human wasn't I? Yes, I had walked out on a meeting with one of the biggest producers in the country but he was a dickhead and I couldn't stand to be in the same room with him. Among other things, I had been caught speeding a couple of times and had even been caught on film ignoring fans who would wait out the front of my hotel for hours just to get a glimpse of me in person.
"Fine, go back to Camp Rock and prove me wrong. If you are truly better this way, you will come back the same and I won't ever bring up your attitude again."
There it was again, my 'attitude'.
"Fine, you will realise that this is who I am and if you don't like it, you can quit."
She stared me down, "Is that what you want, for me to quit?"
I rolled my eyes at her, "No, as much as I don't want to admit it...you have done a lot for me." I acknowledged reluctantly.
"Great, go pack your bags. You're leaving in a week and I know how long it takes for you to get ready to go somewhere."
"Why don't you pack for me?"
"I'm your manager, not your servant. You may treat others like they are beneath you, but I won't allow myself to be treated like that. I've worked in this business a long time and have seen my fair share of fallen pop stars, don't allow yourself to be like them." With that, she left me alone in my apartment.
I waited a few seconds before slamming the front door shut as hard as I could.
My cell phone began ringing and I fished it out of my Gucci bag that was on my couch, looking at the caller-id to see it was my mother calling me.
I sighed to myself and placed it down, allowing it to ring out. I'd call her back later; it was normal for me to not answer her when she rang me.
I walked into my bedroom to get a change of clothes; I had a performance on some talk show tonight that wasn't even that big. It would all change after tonight thought I was sure, I would be on it which would definitely attract viewers.
I caught sight of myself in the corner of my full-length mirror and stood there to look at myself.
Had I really changed so much that I had to be sent back to Camp Rock?
Sure, I may have got rid of the childish fringe and got them cut to the side and I dyed my hair black, but that didn't mean I had changed in a bad way.
I pushed the thoughts out of my mind, I was better like this, I was better off.
After all, I was fulfilling my dreams.
...
"So Mitchie, what's up next for you? Your album has gone multi-platinum, something which is astounding for any artist let alone one who's gotten it for their debut album. Can we expect a second one coming anytime soon?" The host asked me.
I smiled, as rehearsed, "Yes, a second album is currently in the works."
"We hear that your tour has been pushed back as well, is this indeed true?"
"Yes, my label has decided that it would be best for me to take a break this summer and go back to Camp Rock." I answered as rehearsed. It was stretching the truth, but it was the best way to make myself and the label look good.
"You seem like one incredibly busy girl. Anyway, Camp Rock was where you had your start, am I correct?"
I nodded, "Yes, at the final Jam the owner of Hollywood Records was in the crowd and wanted to sign me instantly."
"That was when you first performed with Shane Gray right?"
I looked down at my Prada heels as the memories came flooding back to me.
Final Jam was officially over; the theatre was empty asides from Shane and me. We had stayed back as everyone else left and sat on the catwalk of the stage where we had sung together not long beforehand.
"When did you hear the song?" I asked, intrigued.
"I heard it at the beginning of camp, on my very first day actually. I was running from crazed-girls and hid from them in the bushes outside the mess hall. You were playing the song on the piano."
I nodded, recalling the memory, "So I take it you liked the song?
He laughed, "Of course I did; the song is real. The song shows exactly who you are; an amazing, caring and gifted singer. The message of the song really spoke to me."
"It means a lot to me to know that you like it." I admitted.
Shane smiled at me and stared into my eyes.
I felt trapped in his gaze; there was something so powerful and captivating about his eyes.
Before I knew it; Shane had leant forward and brought his lips to mine, kissing me tenderly.
He pulled apart from the kiss a moment later and rested his forehead against mine, "You are a shining star," He whispered, quoting my song, "And you're the song inside of me." He whispered before connecting our lips again.
"Yes, it was." I answered.
"How is he, have you spoken to him recently?"
Even for an interview, this guy had too many questions.
"He's doing well; he's busy like me, working on an album with his band." I lied. In reality, I had no idea how he was doing asides from what I saw in the media, along with virtually every other person on earth.
I hadn't spoken to him since he broke up me almost six months ago.
As soon as the show was over I bolted out of the studio to my awaiting limousine, my cell phone began to ring and I saw that I was my mum again. I hadn't called her back from beforehand so I decided to answer.
"Hi mum." I breathed out.
"Don't 'hi' me, Mitchie. I haven't spoken to you in days. I know you're eighteen but you can't ignore me because you are legally an adult now."
"Sorry," I apologised, not really meaning it, "What do you want?"
She sighed at this, "Why do I have to find out from my television that you're going back to Camp Rock this year?
"I only found out earlier today." I defended myself.
"I haven't seen you in over a month now, honey."
"How about I come see you before I leave?" I offered, although I didn't want to (as bad as that sounds; its how I feel).
"No need."
"What do you mean?" I asked confused.
"I'll get to see you every day for a month soon enough. Brown has asked me to come back and cater again." She explained.
I almost dropped the phone at this, "You can't come!"
"Why not?"
"Because, what kind of celebrity has their mum come with them?"
"I've already accepted the job. I'll see you there bright and early every day, Mitchie."
"Whatever." I replied, rolling my eyes (not that she could see).
"Don't roll your eyes," She ordered me, "Mitchie, we aren't anywhere near as close as we used to be; but I still know what you're like."
"Yes, mum. I'll see you next week." With that, I hung up my phone with no intents of calling her before I went back to camp.
I dialled Christina's number when I arrived back at my apartment and she answered on the fourth ring, "Oh joy, my mum is coming camping with me." I said sarcastically after she answered, "She's coming back as the caterer again."
"Mitchie," she said in a stern voice, "You never see her anymore, you should be grateful that you'll be able to spend some time with her."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." I replied, uninterestedly.
"Speaking of Camp Rock, you won't be the only celebrity instructor this year either." She informed me.
"Don't tell me." I said, although I knew already who it would be.
"Shane Gray will be back, accompanied by the rest of Connect 3 this time. The label loves the publicity they get from this and knows how much Connect 3 loves Camp Rock."
"Money-grabbing arseholes." I muttered, "The label don't care about me, they only care about making me look good to make them money."
"It's Hollywood." Christina reminded me.
"Well I'm going; I'm tired and need some sleep. Clear all my appointments for the morning, I need to sleep in just this once. Just re-schedule them for the afternoon." I instructed her.
I hung up my phone at that and switched it off so I wouldn't be disturbed in the morning.
A lot had happened over the year since I last attended Camp Rock and as much as I had originally wanted to go this time a year ago, it was one of the last places I wanted to go at this moment in time.
I was going to have to face Shane Gray for the first time since our messy break-up that had gotten most of America on my side. I hadn't even spoken to him; I had made no contact with him what-so-ever.
This time next week I would be trapped; I would be confined to the camp grounds where Shane Gray would be, meaning I would not be able to escape from him.
Camp Rock wouldn't break me; this was who I was now.