hi again. (: I'd just like to say that I am in no way to blame for this fic. It is entirely the fault of Ele (who will get a cameo later) for being online and encouraging me and it's also the fault of all my other friends for not being online to yell 'don't you dare!!'
So, we have another chapter and until i can work out how to get pictures on here I'm going to have to put names in so you know what character I'm talking about.
Please R&R (:
Ekkah
Two
Mitchie
Mitchie tapped her fingers against her legs, trying not to look at Caitlin. She still felt guilty about not believing Caitlin could breathe helium and her guilt would only grow if she didn't believe the rest of her friend's revelations.
Still... "So you can breathe magic helium?" she confirmed slowly. "And this isn't all just an elaborate set-up so you can tell me how gullible I am."
"I can," Caitlin confirmed again. "And it's not, promise."
"Magic helium," Mitchie repeated in case it sounded any saner the second time. "That can make guitars work without amps and gives people the ability to sing in harmony without a backing singer."
"Yes."
"Okay... How did you come up with this?"
Caitlin brightened up now it seemed Mitchie was believing her. "Basically, remember when Connect 3 played last year? Well I noticed at the time that their guitars had no wires and my voice was really high and my through felt funny. When I talked to Brown later he just said that Connect 3 had sorted it all." She said this triumphantly. Mitchie tilted her head to the side.
"Which means?" she prompted.
"Don't you ever speak to your boyfriend?" Caitlin sighed. "I talked to Shane over the summer. Well... he called me to ask what kind of music you liked and if you liked chocolates and which flowers you liked and, you get the picture. Anyway, once I'd told him everything I knew and reminded him that I'd only known him as long as he had I turned the conversation to that gig and asked about the guitars. He just said he assumed Brown had set up some glitzy new system."
"And you think that that was you?"
"You don't have to talk slowly all the time, Mitchie. I'm not crazy. Look, if you like we can head back to camp, find an electric guitar and I'll show you. I can control it better now... I think."
Mitchie bit her lip for a moment. There was a chance, however slim, that she could be about to witness something that was thought to be impossible.
On the other hand, there was the slightly larger chance that Caitlin wasn't quite in full ownership of all her mental facilities and Mitchie didn't want to have to play the friend if that was the case.
Still, on a (possibly magic helium related) third hand, Caitlin was already standing up and with an expression of such enthusiasm on her face that Mitchie didn't want to disappoint her. She sighed and worked her way up into a smile. "Okay," she agreed. "Let's go see the magic guitar."
Nate
"It's been three hours, Shane!" Nate bashed a fist against Shane's door again. "And I spent most of it under a pile of girls. I have showered in cold water and it was disgusting. I have stormed out of every camp building, signed what feels like every girl in the area and I know you have hair gel hidden in there somewhere."
The door opened long enough to reveal Shane's Cheshire cat grin. "I guess it's time to embrace the natural look," he replied smoothly. "Have fun."
The door closed behind him leaving Nate to kick it fiercely and yell. "Sixty girls isn't natural, Shane!" He stood there for another few minutes then kicked the door again, hard, and whirled around.
"Are you Nate Grey?" A small girl with large, brown doe eyes was looking up at him, clutching an autograph book to her chest.
If it had been any other day and he had been in any other mood he would've smiled at her and signed the book. As it was, he walked up to her and crouched slightly to her eye level. "What is on my top?"
She peered down to read it, as though this was some kind of test. "Elmo," she replied after a moment.
Nate nodded. "And do you think Nate Grey would be seen dead in a bright blue hoodie with a picture of Elmo from Sesame Street on the front?"
"I..."
"Apply a small amount of logic and I think we can come to the conclusion that I'm definitely not Nate Grey."
The girl tilted her head to the side, apparently thinking hard. "You look like Nate Grey," she pointed out perfectly validly.
"Look, if you want a pop star the key code to Shane's door is 48485."
"Shane's taken," the girl said, smiling brightly while Nate tried to encompass the fact that a girl who couldn't be more than twelve liked him more than Shane because Shane had a girlfriend.
"Well Nate wouldn't look twice at someone like you," he snapped, unnecessarily harshly and stormed past her, pulling up the hood of his jumper and trying to ignore the pang of guilt as she burst into tears behind him.
Shane
Laughing softly, Shane turned away from the door and picked up the letter Uncle Brown had left, scanning through it until his eyes fell on the paragraph partway down.
Would you mind telling both your brothers that I would like you all to come to a meeting in my cabin at noon to discuss the timetable arrangements? I think I've covered all the requests you passed across to me-
Shane laughed softly again.
-And I want to make sure you all know what you're doing.
It's good to have you back at camp, Shane.
-Uncle Brown
Except now he needed Nate back, even if telling his brother anything at the moment might not be a brilliant idea. He walked to the door and pushed it open, in the distance he could see a whirl of blue as Nate disappeared. In the foreground, however, a girl of about twelve was clutching a book and crying.
Nate, he thought grimly. Nate, what did you just do?
He went up to her. "Hi," he tried, brightly. "What's your name?"
"Beccy Turner," she replied, managing to sound upset and overbearing at the same time. "My mom is Angela Turner, I bet you've heard of her."
"She's pretty cool," Shane agreed. "I met her at an awards gala once, she's nice." He broke off, glancing up to where Nate had disappeared. "Um, look, I just wanted to apologise for whatever my idiot of a lead guitarist said."
"So he was Nate. I knew it!"
"Um..." Shane glanced over her shoulder again, trying to work out where Nate would've gone. "Yeah, who else would he have been?"
"So what're you going to do to make it up to me?"
"I..." Shane bit his lip, if he got sidetracked for too long then Nate would be completely unfindable. He ducked down, wrapped the girl in an only very slightly distracted hug then pulled her autograph book out and signed it quickly. "Enjoy the Camp," he urged before running past her to the T-junction where Nate had disappeared.
He glanced from side to side, searching for his brother in the distance. He couldn't see Nate but he could see a blonde girl looking very put out.
Nathan...
Nate
"Hi."
Nate turned, fists clenched to see a girl around his height in a deep blue top and decorated with numerous necklaces, bracelets, rings and everything else than Shane would push under the heading 'bling.' "Hey," he replied roughly, moving to pass her.
She immediately moved to block his path, tossing perfectly combed blonde hair back over one shoulder. "You're Shane's brother, aren't you?"
"Not interested." He moved to pass her again but she continued to block him.
"We were like, totally the best of friends last year." She held out an elaborately jewelled hand. "I'm Tess Tyler. My mom's T.J. Tyler, she's currently touring in Switzerland but I'm sure you've heard of her. Yeah, I'm her daughter but I don't like to bra-"
"I'm Nate Grey," Nate interrupted roughly, pushing back his hood briefly. "And if you're such good friends with my brother, go bug him." He tried to move again.
"Do you like my bracelet? Every time my mum wins a grammy she-"
Nate snarled and just pushed past her, knocking her out the way. "I'm Nate Grey," he snapped, pulling his hood up again. "If you ever win a Grammy, let me know. Or, even better, don't."
Shane
"Tess!" Shane called, running over to her. "Hey, how's it going?" He supposed he had to be nice to her now seeing as she was one of Mitchie's friends. Plus, she was a good contact and she wasn't exactly a bad singer. Just annoying.
"Perfect," she retorted, rather harshly for someone who was perfect. "Except for your arrogant jerk of a brother. Could you find him and tell him he's a complete – "
"On it." If he looked really hard he could see Jason's bright blue jumper disappearing around a corner in the distance. "See you around."
She made a noise which sounded something like 'pshaw' and stepped aside so he could run after Nate again. "Nate!" he shouted, speeding up in an attempt to catch up with his brother. "Nate, get back here!"
Nate
Nate turned on his heel and Shane almost ran into him, drawing to a stop and panting, hands on his knees. Nate watched him for a few moments they pushed the hood of his jumper back. "Fine," he snapped. "This had better be good."
"Uncle Brown wants to see us." Shane broke off to look at his watch. "Five minutes ago."
Nate turned away. "Not good enough." That was all it took for Shane to grab his arm.
"Nate, come on." Then he was being pulled through the camp, his free arm pulling at the hood of Jason's stupid jumper while Shane played the big brother and gave him a settling in speech. "I know it's weird and everything but I had to go through it all last year and it made me a better person."
Unlike you, Nate thought, giving up on the resistance and just letting Shane drag him through the streets to Uncle Brown's cabin. I wasn't a bad person to start with. I have to say, this really isn't helping with my problem. A few heads turned but Nate just glared at them until they looked away.
Hey, look, a famous pop star being dragged by another famous pop star. Oooh.
"That little girl was crying, Nate, actually crying. And Tess, according to Mitchie, has always liked you best. She was looking forward to this for ages." He kept going, something about great responsibility coming with great power and other phrases that sounded like they were lifted straight from some kind of Disney film.
Why does everyone like me best? It is just because Shane's taken and Jason's kind of weird? He glanced up to see they were nearing Uncle Brown's cabin.
Maybe I can just quit, get out of here. He glanced over at Shane who had paused briefly to discuss dance moves with some boy called Andy. His brother looked completely zinged up, alive in a way he hadn't been since they'd met him last year.
Who am I kidding. Shane will never let me leave. Not in a million years. He has too much 'payback' to catch up on. Nate pulled his arm away, ignoring Shane and pushing through into Uncle Brown's cabin. Jason was already there and they appeared to be having a heated debate on the best wood either for guitars or birdhouses, he wasn't entirely sure which. He slammed the door loudly and they both jumped, looking around at him.
"Nate-Mate!" Uncle Brown called enthusiastically, apparently able to blank out their conversation earlier. "What's up, matey?"
"The sky." Nate walked across the room to drop onto Uncle Brown's bed. "Oh, and could someone explain to me where all the fangirls came from? I didn't think I was all that popular."
"Well, you're sixteen now," pointed out Uncle Brown who, apparently, did remember the conversation earlier after all. "I guess they all think they have a shot. Has anyone caught your eye?"
"They have caught many things but my eye is not one of them." Nate picked up Uncle Brown's guitar, playing a few chords thoughtfully.
"Plus you're a soloist now," pointed out Shane, entering the room and closing the door quietly behind him. "That's good for a few more fans at least."
"What if I don't want fans? I just want to play."
"Should've thought of that before you joined Connect 3. Shouldn't you?" Shane took the guitar from his fingers and sat beside him, proceeding to take up so much space that Nate gave up and stood up, going to lean against the wall. "So, Uncle Brown," Shane continued brightly. "You wanted to talk to us all."
"Yes! I did! There was something very important! Timetables!" He shouted this final word, beaming widely as though this was the most amazing thing any of us could have heard in our entire lives. "Timetables, I have them somewhere." Nate found himself pushed to the side so Uncle Brown could reach the notice board behind him and pull down three sheets of A4 paper. "They follow a fortnightly schedual and I think we've got you all on the classes your requested. First, Shane," he pulled the top one off the pile. "Composition. Mitchie's offered to help you even though she is technically still a camper."
Shane's grin widened as he took his timetable, scanning through it. "No morning's this year either."
"Strictly post-11 am, as requested."
Nate closed his eyes in dread. 11 am? He only got up that early when... well, pretty much never, actually. And what was Brown talking about with the requests? Nate hadn't spoken to his Uncle since discussing Shane's punishment last year, when had Shane got in planning all this?
"Jason!" Uncle Brown turned enthusiastically to Jason who was sporting a T-shirt from some stupid cow shop that read 'Elmoo' with a picture of Elmo turned into a cow.
"Uncle Brown!" Jason responded with the same enthusiasm. Apparently camp was something Jason was enjoying.
"Due to the strangest request I have had since founding this camp, Jason, you're on a brand new class starting this year that, for want of a more rocki- I mean, Popping name, we have called Woodwork."
Jason cheered and punched the air before taking his timetable off Brown and scanning through it. "Thanks Uncle Brown," he said brightly, enveloping Uncle Brown in one of his horribly stifling hugs.
"Any time, superstar." Brown ducked out of the hug, scanning through the last timetable. "And, Natey-mate. How's my youngest nephew doing?"
"Fantastic."
Unfortunately the Camp Pop atmosphere seemed to render everyone completely incapable of recognising sarcasm in any form. "Excellent! Now, Shane very kindly passed your request across to me –"
Oh no.
"And I'm sorry about the timings but it really can't be helped, I'm afraid."
Oh please no... please God no...
"So," Uncle Brown finished, in the tones of one presenting a great treat. "You're on hip-hop dance all summer; though, of course, you can teach other types of dance if you really feel the ne-"
"No." Nate interrupted simply.
"What?"
"No," Nate repeated. "No way. I don't dance, I can't dance." He snatched his timetable. There was one day, one in an entire week that he didn't have to be teaching by ten. On two days, he was expected in the classroom so after showers and breakfast, by nine. Nine. "No way," he repeated, as though if he refused enough this whole damn camp would just go away through the sheer force of his denial.
"But the timetables are all written up, they're set in stone now. We've sorted all the buildings and they can't be changed."
"Then I'll switch with someone," Nate jumped in quickly. "I'll take their classes, they can take mine. Easy as." He wasn't leaning against the wall anymore. In fact, it was taking all his strength not to attempt to shake Brown and shout that there was no way, no way he was going along with this.
"Who?"
"Anyone!" he shouted desperately. "I'll do singing or guitar; I'll learn and teach drums. I mean, I'll do-" his eyes cast around, searching for ideas, and fell on Jason's brightly coloured T-shirt. "I'll do woodwork if I have to."
"Woodwork," Jason pointed out. "Is taken. No one but me will be teaching woodwork in this camp."
Nate ignored him, turning back to Uncle Brown and all but falling to his knees. "Please, Uncle Brown. I'll do anything else, anything. Just get me a later class in something other than dance."
For a moment he thought he might have got through to him but then Brown just shrugged apologetically. "Sorry Nate-Mate. Unless Shane or Jason agree to swap, there's nothing I can do."
Nate glanced around at his brothers, pleading desperately with his eyes. Jason shook his head firmly, arms folded and Shane just smiled his bright smile.
"Cheer up, bro," he said, standing up and heading out the cabin. "Maybe you'll learn something. Hey, Uncle Brown, can you come and show me and Mitchie how to work a canoe? We still just go around in circles." Chattering brightly, Shane left the hut with Uncle Brown and left Nate alone with Jason who was clearly completely deluded.
"This is completely cool, isn't it Nate?"
"If by cool you mean completely horrible, then yes. It's cool."
"You know your hair's kind of messed up. Is that because of the air because I always thought the natural look was supposed to be a good thing."
"God, Jason, try to keep something in your head for more than three seconds! Sixty girls leapt on me. Sixty girls are not natural. Not to mention Uncle Brown sticking his fingers through it every chance he -!"
"Hey didn't you used to call him Brownie?"
Nate let out a snarl of frustration. "Newsflash!" he shouted at Jason. "I am sixteen years old. Not six, not twelve, sixteen." He spun on his heel for what felt like the millionth time that day and stormed out of the cabin, slamming the door like a gunshot behind him.
Caitlyn
"Well," Mitchie offered for what must've been the sixth time. "Maybe you were nervous."
Caitlyn's hands were shaking but she didn't think it was nerves. Mitchie was holding the guitar and playing but it wasn't changing anything, it just made that strange tinny sound that electric guitars make when they aren't plugged in and magic helium doesn't exist. "Stop pretending to believe me," she snapped, not wanting to be harsh but unable to stop it getting through. "It's degrading. I'm not an idiot."
"I'm not pretending."
"Of course you are. What kind of lame person believes in magic helium? What kind of person thinks helium can make an electric guitar work without wires?" She snatched the guitar from Mitchie's fingers, throwing it across the floor of their shared cabin and trying not to sniff.
Not here. Not here and not now.
"Caitlyn..."
Mitchie reached out but Caitlyn knocked her hand away. Mitchie couldn't understand, she couldn't understand how hard Caitlyn had been trying just so she'd be able to prove herself to her friend. "Leave me alone," she hissed, pulling away. "Just leave me alone."
She ran out of the cabin, the door slamming shut behind her and cutting the conversation short.
Nate
Nate kicked open the door to the first practice room he came too, slamming the door closed behind him and twisting the lock. Only once this was done did he let himself fall against it, resting his forehead against the wood and, for the first time in his life, feeling a twinge of pity for Shane.
Then he remembered Shane's grin when the timetables were being handed out and decided his brother had had his fair share of revenge for the time being.
There was a guitar across the room. Slightly reluctantly, he moved away from the cool wood and picked it up, flicking the strings with one finger as he sat down, leaning back against the far wall. It was an electric and he couldn't see any amps in here but whatever. Maybe he'd seize up again if there were cables. After all, that was what he did, right? That was why he was here, in the land of fangirls. So the fresh air could 'fix' him.
Good luck with that.
Caitlyn
Why does it never work when I want it to? Caitlyn dropped to the ground, leaning against the back wall of the furthest music hut from the rest of the camp. Why does it never work?
At that moment, naturally at that moment. Right when it was too late to be any use she felt the familiar tickle in her throat.
Nate
Nate hit a chord experimentally and heard the twang of strings looking for an amp and not finding one. Immediately he was hit by the painful memories. God no.
He forced himself to focus, he had to concentrate on something else.
"Sometimes it feels, like the world is out to get you.
Sometimes it feels, like all paths lead to the same dead end."
Caitlyn
"Sometimes it feels, like the world just has no clue."
It was strange. Her throat was sore like she was breathing helium but her voice sounded the same as usual.
"We close our eyes, we dream and pretend."
Nate
"Sometimes we hope, and sometimes we dream
That nothing in this world, is quite as it seems." He rose to his feet, barely noticing that the guitar didn't sound even slightly amp-less now.
Caitlyn
"Sometimes we cry, and sometimes we fall
But a friend will take our hand to see us
Through it all." She stood up, her back against the wall behind her. Then her voice lifted in a squeak and she coughed violently, her throat heaving.
God, I hate this. I hate this. She pushed away from the wall, stumbling into the trees her hand against her neck.
"I hate this!"
Three birds, dislodged from their sleep, flew up into the sky. Caitlyn watched them for a moment then fell to her knees under the tree, feeling the burning in her throat cool. Whoever she had just unknowingly helped, she hoped they appreciated it.
Nate
"'Cause when the world comes hunting for you
You don't want to feel alone
Stand back to back with me
And I swear we'll make it home.
When the world is getting older
And leaving you behind
Stand with me
I swear I'll never leave your side." He hit the final chord and it jarred, the strange thing that had connected it to whatever amp he couldn't see broken. That must be Uncle Brown's weird gizmo. Apparently it isn't all that effective.
He dropped back to the ground and, unable to stomach playing the guitar again, pushed it against the wall so he could drop his head into his hands.
If tomorrow never comes, I will be eternally grateful. He looked up at the door with the lock in the horizontal position and waited for a few moments. If anyone wants to kill me. Now is the time.
Chemistry! I apologise for the very Disney singing moment, I'm trying to make this less tacky but it just fit so well! I avoided them both singing the chorus (Though Caitlyn now hates me.)
(:
