A/N: Kay, we wanted to continue this story, despite not having gotten any reviews for it yet. Heh. We just love writing a Tess Tyler centric, because there's no limits to what you can do with Tess Tyler. Oh, right, the WARNINGS. Well, here are ya warnings:

This story is very disburting. Do not read if you easily throw up at the thought of blood, purging, or anything else. Oops. Sorry. Well, this story also includes some crude language. Read at your discretion. This story also directs teen runaways, non-Disney related Camp Rock Tess Tyler (e.g, cutting, bulimia, anorexia, ect.), lyrics from Parental Advisory albums (e.g, Fergie, Garbage (explicit), Fall Out Boy albums, Cobra Starship albums, Panic! At The Disco albums, Katy Perry, ect.), Disney lyrics taken out of context, and underage drinking. Parents are advised to read and see if this story is something they will let their child read (and don't say no just because you don't like it, find out if you kid can comprehend these things, not just because you want to protect them, it's better they hear it from us because we'll show the consequences in the end. We have a cool ending planned). We are not liable for any mental scarring this story leaves you with.

Paring warnings: This contains both canon and crack parings and if you don't like the beginning pairings, it's like Texas whether. They'll change.

Chapter One: The Next Summer and What My Bracelets Stand For

This was the year I'll be turning to my Sweet Sixteen. I bet you're wondering why I have three charm bracelets. I know I told every that they stand for the Grammys my mother has won, but that's a lie. The gold one stands for every event my mother has missed, from the first ballet recital to every Camp Rock performance I've ever given along with almost every birthday. The silver one stands for every boyfriend my mother has had, been engaged to, or boys that my mother has dated that gave me presents. There's almost forty charms on it. There are three boys that left before the charms were even finished, the ones that'll bring the total up to forty.

The final one, the bronze one. That stands for every song I've ever written. There's enough on there to bring the total number of charms on each bracelet up to five hundred, the same amount of Grammys my mother won. The most important one is the gold one. The second important one is the bronze one. It also includes charms from my friends at home. Charms that people gave to me because it relates to the exterior of me. And the last important one is the silver one.

I showed up at Camp Rock in a broken down car, and I've heard the news about my first single off of my new album "Bleed Like Me", titled after the first single. What I didn't know was how much sympathy I would face. I brought my two best friends with me, and Dominique, the only way we could afford the camp was if Dominique agreed to be a maid. Dominique told us not to worry, she'll won't force us to help. I was carrying my own knock-off bags, having sold my Louis Vuitton bags to pay for my half of the bill.

Times were rough on us. I even had to sell my warehouse of guitars, but I refused to sell the guitar that I had used from the first Final Jam, or the designer case, because of the good memories in it. Dominique already sold half of her own guitars as well. We were struggling, and despite how much I refused, I had to start recording my own album and release it soon. I've recorded all of it, and it's set release is after Camp ends.

Or so we thought. Mitchie came running up to me, and said, "Tess, I love your debut album! It's so amazing, the lyrics are so deep, and it's so hardcore rock! I would've never expected this at all! It's amazing!"

My mouth dropped, and I said, "It came out already? They promised it wouldn't come out until after camp was over!"

Mitchie shrugged, and said, "By the way, did you look at the list of producers? Since I was credited, I got it early."

She showed me the insert, and indeed, her name was credited as a producer, along with Caitlyn's, all of Connect Three, my mother, the producers they gave me, my sisters, and a few other names. And in the list of the song writers, it wasn't just me, I knew that. But I didn't know it was handed to so many people! Elisha said, "Wait! I forgot to give you your early release copy, Tess! I'm so sorry!"

She handed it to me, and I must admit, I was impressed by how it turned out. However, I couldn't believe how many people got to it. They had helped the writing process, and I had no idea, I had just handed them to one of my friends, and they got around. There were two booklets, one of the thank you from me and everyone else. The song list was amazing, and I couldn't believe it.

Mitchie smiled apoligetically, and said, "Well, I guess you really are going broke."

I snapped, "I don't want to hear sympathy."

And with that, I stormed off away from Mitchie, who's face was confused. Mitchie was a producer? I didn't know that, but I didn't know that so many people would be working on my debut album! Sander and Nate were listed as producers, and Nate helped out with my songs? I didn't know that. Maybe I had let him, but I can't be too sure. Of course.

The next night, I walked into the cabin for Open Mic with a long sleeved, deep cut hoodie-like shirt over a tank top. My bracelets were what caught everyone's attention and I felt three inches tall. Everyone had stopped talking and looked at me, the girl who lost everything. My jeans went down to my high heels, and I felt like pulling the hood up and hiding from everyone. But I couldn't. I noticed no one was playing their music, and, a little frightened, I walked up to the microphone, feeling self-conscious.

I noticed Stacey come forward with my guitar and handed it to me. I put it around me, and said, "Well, guess the secrets out." I let out a small laugh, before continuing, "I do write songs, and, since most of you have heard my album, I might as well give you a taste of what's to come. This one is called 'Beautiful Disaster'. It's meant for the piano, but I'll go with the guitar instead."

He drowns in his dreams
An exquisite extreme, I know
He's as damned as he seems
And more Heaven then a heart could hold

And if I try to save him
My whole world will cave in
It just ain't right
Lord it just ain't right

Oh, when I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
He's such a beautiful disaster

And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Lord would it be beautiful
Or just a beautiful disaster

He's magic and myth
As strong as what I believe
A tragedy with
More damage than a soul should see

But do I try to change him
So hard not to blame him
Hold me tight
Baby hold me tight

Oh and I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
He's such a beautiful disaster

And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful
Or just a beautiful disaster

I'm longing for love and the logical
But he's only happy hysterical
I'm searching for some kind of miracle
Waited so long, I've waited so long

He's soft to the touch
But frayed at the ends, he breaks
He's never enough
And still he's more than I can take

Oh and I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
He's such a beautiful disaster

And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful
Or just a beautiful disaster

He's beautiful
Lord, he's so beautiful
He's beautiful

After I finished my song, a round of applause was given for me. I just then realized I had sang a song that I had recorded for my next album. I wrote it about Sander, but it had a touch of Nate's doings in there. I remember when he broke up with me. The time that I remember so well, and even wrote a song about it, it just tore me into two. This was the year before last, it made me so bitter when he said it to me.

Flashback

I was dressed up for a date with Nate, a gorgeous flowing, A-line skirt, a cami under a long-sleeved pink hoodie that was low-cut, and my bracelets. Hiding my scars was getting harder, which is why I opted to get flesh-like second skin over my skin, blended there by heavy-duty makeup. I took it from a stylist, who gave me the tools to hide my scars when I needed it. I pulled the hoodie over, and when I saw him come up to me, I smiled. This was the most important day of my life, the day that I would finally get to know I won.

But Nate's face wasn't kind at all, and when he kissed me, it was obvious he was holding back. I smiled though, hiding the fact I was so hurt. Nate said simply, "We need to talk."

All of a sudden, everything that had made me strong disappeared, and I felt like crying. My voice cracked, and I said, "About what?"

I knew what he was going to say before he even said it. "Tess, I know that you're still cutting. And I've been thinking, and I've come to the realization: what if one day you accidentally cut too hard and die? I can't live with this. It's too much for me. I can't constantly worry about you, and I'm leaving on tour soon as well. The distance would also put some strain on what is already running thin. I don't want to say it, but I have to say that I have to move on. I'm breaking up with you."

The tears suddenly fell down, the tears I was withholding, and I begged, "Nate, please, don't do this to me! I need you! I love you, you can't just leave me! Please, don't tell me goodbye!"

Nate put a finger to my lips, and the tears continued to fall. With his thumb, he wiped the tears falling from my blue eyes, quickly losing the sparkle that Nate gave them, and I felt my heart breaking into two. Nate whispered, "It's not goodbye. Goodbye means forgetting, and I'll never forget you. I hope we can stay friends, Tess. I really would like that."

I didn't know if I could, I still had plenty of feelings left for him. Instead, I said, "I hope so."

Nate gave me one final kiss before turning around, leaving me forever. Or so I thought. Hurt, wounded, and upset, I ran to my guitar case, where Peggy was asking what I was doing, threw it over my shoulder and ran out to the docks.

Sitting down, I strummed at my guitar, writing the song in ten minutes. I cried onto my guitar, recalling all the good times we had, him dancing with me in the rain with no music, the kisses we shared that I remember so well, everything that made me want him still, and my worst memory: goodbye.

End Flashback

I felt like the tears would fall when I had gotten off the stage and saw Nate again. Nate looked surprised, and I looked at who he was talking to, Caitlyn Geller, a producer on my album, and now I understood everything. Taking my guitar, I ran out as fast as I could, ignorning Nate's pleas for me to wait, for him to explain, and I knew he knew that I wasn't on the best of terms with Caitlyn.

Back in my cabin, I locked the door to the bathroom with my journal, tears spilling as I wrote away into it, crying over what could've been. However, Nate just wouldn't leave me alone, let me cry over him. He rapped harshly over the door, asking, "Tess? Can I talk to you?"

Ignoring him, I took my razor, and lifted up my sleeves, which bared scars from the past, and sliced right into my skin, trying so hard to let the pain out on my arms, and everything felt better for some reason as I watched the blood drip from my arm. This is what the song "Bleed Like Me" meant. However, most of the time I don't cut as deep as I did right then. It felt great when I started but when I noticed more blood than usual, I let out a yelp, which caused Nate to immediately ram the door down, or was it the blood pouring out under the door?

Nate's eyes went wide at the blood running down my arms while I didn't look the least bit phased. If I died, who would care? Apparently, Nate would, because he immediately dropped his arms around me, and kissed me, taking me quickly to the cabin where the nurse was, not even caring that my lip gloss rubbed off on his lips, or even that my blood was soaking his shirt as he tried to stop the blood flow on the way there. However, when we came in, not only was it us there, it was everyone else, who was obviously anticipating my arrival.

And a flash went off in my eyes, and another, and pretty soon, camera flashes from paparazzi was all I could see. And Nate's face went from kind and sympathetic to angry in one-step, which freaked me out. But he wasn't angry at me. No, he was yelling at... Shane? Wait... oh, Shane apparently didn't know much, and could only tell him that the paparazzi where here because... I missed an interview with Chelsea from Chelsea Lately?

And she apparently wanted to know why. Well, it wasn't just Chelsea, and Chelsea was trying to get everyone else out of the cabin, and finally, when Connect Three's security finally got everyone out, she said appologetically, "I'm so sorry, Ms. Tyler. You probably didn't want all these cameras around, I kind of figured that when you didn't show for the video interview. But I wanted at least at an audio transcript, so I came over here instead, but apparently, when they got the wind I was going to interview you, they tagged along without my knowledge. Ms. Tyler, how can I make it up to you?"

I nodded, and said, "You can just call me Tess, and it's okay. I kind of thought someone would find out about this sooner or later. I just wish it was later."

Nate came back over, and said, "She needs to get some help for her arms, so, Ms. Chelsea, could you please wait outside for us?"

She nodded, and stepped out of the Infirmary Cabin. I looked over at Nate, who smiled at me. This was the only cabin in which someone could make out and not be seen in. Nate's lips soon fell on mine, and he was kissing me again, like he used to do. I loved every minute of it until the nurse came in and made a clearing throat sound. Nate pulled away, and I looked at the nurse, and my world came crashing down. Caitlyn Geller was the assitant, Dominique was one nurse, and the other nurse wasn't important.

Caitlyn's forced smile was obvious, and I was scared I was going to burn this bridge I built again. Please, don't let that happen.

A/N: Dudes, just because we can't give out reviews doesn't mean you can't stop giving us our reviews! How are we doing? What do you think? And cliff-hanger, because if we continued anymore, we'd give away the WHOLE story, and we can't do that!