So I decided to make it longer. I'm not sure how far I'm going to go with this, so please review and tell me if you want more. Also, if I do do more to this story, the updating would probably be a bit slow since I'm typing my other main story, Poor Unfortunate Souls. So this chapter is from Shane's POV. (There's a bit of language in this chapter, but the story's rated T, so we're good :D)
Disclaimer: Really? Do you really think I own Camp Rock? Pfft, that's what I thought.
Nate calls me into the room for a meeting. I sulk in, dumping my body into one of the chairs. I glare at Nate, Jason, and our manager, Frank. Sure, the world may think they are nice people, but they are devils to me. They made me give up the one thing I love more than music: Mitchie.
"What the hell do you want," I say through my teeth. Nate looks at Jason and Frank, waiting for them to do the next move. He sighs when he realizes that it's up to him to deliver the next blow.
"Shane…you know Maria, right?" he timidly asks me. I've recently gone back to my old antics, being mean and stuff after they forced Mitchie away.
"Parquels? That stupid slut?" I ask, semi-interested in what she has to do with this meeting.
"Yeah…" Nate sighs, looking at Frank, pleading him to tell me. Frank rolls his eyes then gets to the facts.
"Gray, I don't want any attitude, you're dating her."
"WHAT!?!" I shriek, jumping up. "There is no fucking way I'm dating that ho!"
"Gray, I'm warning you…" Frank looks at me with his eyebrows raised, daring me to lose it.
I huff and sit down, aggravated my by the shit-heads sitting around me. Why do I have to be famous? I would give it all up if I could just be with Mitchie…at least call her.
"Why should I listen to you?" I shoot at Frank.
Frank glares at me. "Unless you and your little boy band want to be playing on the streets, I suggest you suck it up and tell the world you are dating her."
"I don't fucking care anymore! Kick us out, we'll just find another manager and record company. You've fucked with my life too many times, I'm out." As I'm almost through the door, Frank physically stops me. He throws me onto the ground via my shoulder, making it slam down first. I hiss and sit up, knowing it will bruise terribly.
Before I can say anything, Frank starts talking. "It's all in your contract. Either you do what we say, or I can get you arrested for breaking a certified contract. Your choice."
"As if I ever had a choice," I scoff.
Frank smirks. "That's what you get for being in the music business," he sneers as he walks out the room, knowing my answer.
I feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I can't let them fall. If Mitchie sees this…I mean, I haven't talked to her since we left for the tour. Frank said it wasn't good for our image if I had a non-famous girlfriend, so they took my cell phone, internet, even all the stamps so I couldn't send her a letter! It was crazy, I was going crazy. I bet Mitchie's going crazy. Oh God, she probably thinks I forgot about her. I could never forget about her. She was a monumental part of my life. Forgetting about her is like forgetting to breath; impossible. I suddenly come out of my thoughts to see that I'm sitting in our limo in a tux, about to go onto the red carpet. What the hell? When did I get changed? And when did I get into the limo? Never mind, I have more pressing thoughts.
"Shane," Nate hisses at me. I sharply look at him. "Don't mess this up. If you don't look convincingly happy…" Nate raises his hand to his neck and swipes it across.
I glare at him. Although he was hesitant about keeping me from Mitchie at first, he seemed to play along to keep our careers. The music biz has nothing on Mitchie.
"Yeah, whatever," I mutter darkly as someone comes and opens the door. I smile brightly, as if my life wasn't crumbling to pieces.
We are hit with a rush of people screaming "C3! C3!" and paparazzi yelling our names, trying to get us to answer their questions.
"Nate, is it true that you like to run around in your underwear?"
"Jason, why do you like birds so much?"
I ignore most of the questions, until I hear this one.
"Shane, why did you break-up with Mitchie? Was she a gold digger?"
I continue to smile, my acting going into overdrive. If they actually believe I'm happy, I should get an Emmy or something, what I feel inside is the polar opposite. I internally groan as I see Maria up ahead, but pretend to smile brighter.
Maria sees me and smiles back, but I can see it's fake. She's an international supermodel, why would she want to 'date' someone from a boy band for preteen girls? I put my arm around her waist (all the while wishing she was Mitchie) and pretend to be the happiest I have ever been. You see, the trick to acting is thinking of something that goes along with what you're acting. If it's a sad scene, think of something really sad. With trying to act like you're in love, pretend to be with the one you love. I'm pretending that Maria is Mitchie, replacing her anorexic figure with Mitchie's perfect one, her jet black hair with Mitchie's brown hair. My smile became bigger and a bit more real. In the back of my mind, I know it isn't Mitchie and I will probably never see her again, but I try not to think of that now. Otherwise I may breakdown crying.
Behind the interviewers, I see Frank, watching us sternly but approvingly. Well, at least I was making that bastard happy. He caught my eye and pointed to his lips, puckering them a bit. I tense for a second, but then think 'what can I lose'? I lean over to Maria and softly kiss her on her lips. She tries to deepen it, but I feel disgusted with the feeling of kissing someone other than Mitchie. She tasted all…wrong. She tasted like high-end fashions and million dollar perfume while Mitchie just tasted like…Mitchie. Strawberries with a hint of vanilla. I turn and smile into the camera. The interviewer asks, "So, are you two dating?"
I take a peek at Frank. He looks very satisfied, a big grin on his face. I just want to smack it off, but I can't. He points to his mouth and mouths 'talk'. I look back into the camera and tell one of the biggest lies.
"Yes, Maria Parquels and I are dating and we are very madly in love." Lies. All lies. I wish I could say 'Scratch that, I'm in love with Mitchie Torres' but that would not end well.
The reporter (a female) almost squeals with this juicy information and turns to talk details with Maria. I sigh and think more about Mitchie.
I hope she hasn't forgotten, because I know I won't.
Sooo...You like? I typed this procrastinating from my homework, lol. Time well spent I think. I think it's crazy how they wouldn't let Shane contact Mitchie at all, but it's my story. :D Please review!
