Birdhouse

Chapter 2- Song Writing

First fan fiction for Camp Rock!! Kevin Jonas (Jason) was amazingly funny in the film, so I guess this is a tribute to his character. Enjoy! J

Shane drove up the gravel drive in the sleek white Lamborghini Murcielago, grinning at the large manor house up ahead. He parked smoothly and got out, stroking the car's flawless bonnet adoringly. He headed out to the back yard.

It wasn't so much of a yard, more of a teenager's Eden. A rectangular pool with tropical palm trees sat in the centre, surrounded by a little patch of birdhouses, a mini-golf course, a sunny corner with deckchairs and even a small quad bike dust track. The plants were beautiful, bright and tropical, tended to by an expert gardener. All paid for by their musical talents and record company.

Jason lay on the perfect grass, daydreaming, surrounded by birdhouses of every colour, all housing little tweeting birds. He didn't notice Shane.

"Jason! Shane's here!" Nate yelled at him, clambering out of the pool in tight designer trunks. He dried himself off and called Shane over, fluffing up his curly hair. He lay back in a deckchair, reached for his lyric book and adding a line or two.

Shane smiled and sat next to him, head back, soaking up the rays of brilliant sunlight. "Finished yet, Nate?"

"No. Jason won't help, either. Keeps daydreaming, murmuring about kissing."

Shane laughed and read the lyrics over Nate's arm. He frowned thoughtfully. "We could switch that around," he pointed "And up the tempo at the chorus."

Nate nodded, his face breaking out into a dazzling smile. "Yeah! That would totally be perfect! Thanks, Shane."

"No problemo." He lay back, eyes closed.

Jason rolled over on the grass, saw Shane, and leapt up suddenly. He narrowed his eyes at his brother's lips, trying to work out if he was the mysterious kisser. Shane noticed and smirked, an eyebrow raised. Jason ducked his head and walked quickly inside the house.

Nate looked surprised. "What's wrong with him?" he asked.

"Haven't a clue…" Shane answered, leaning back in the deckchair again.

*