"Oh…" Shane gulped, biting his lip as he looked down, catching a glimpse not only at the boy's green converse but his incredibly baggy cargo pants. "I'm sorry?"

"You don't have to be," he shrugged. "I just don't need a stalker, ok? I've been through that before and it's not fun, so yeah…I don't really like, um, being watched."

"I wasn't – I mean I was just hanging out at the lake, I wasn't stalking you." Shane frowned. He couldn't tell whether this kid was conceited, paranoid or some weird mixture of the two, but he wasn't getting a good vibe from him.

"Oh." Maxxie nodded. "I'm sorry, I'm not normally that offensive, I'm just a little bit nervous about that kind of thing," he sighed. "I had a girl follow me around a little bit about a year ago – she snuck into my room, slept under my bed, took a lot of pictures of me, she even slashed my tires once and poisoned a friend of mine so that she could star opposite me in a play."

"Oh wow." Shane's eyes widened. To him, that was good enough reason to be paranoid. As the front runner of Connect Three, yeah, he knew about stalker fan girls, but they had security and body guards to keep the girls away, no one could get anywhere NEAR close enough to them to sleep under their beds and spy on them.

"Yeah…forgive me for the paranoia?" Maxxie bit his lip and Shane couldn't help but gulp as he watched.

"Of course, yeah." Shane nodded. "I'm Shane, Gray."

"I know," Maxxie nodded. "I'm pretty sure that everyone around here does. God, when they told me that I would be working with bloody pop stars I figured you'd all be a load of tossers and slags, but so far you all seem pretty safe."

"I'm sorry?" Shane's eyes widened, only picking up about half of the words that were coming out of the English boy's mouth. The accent made him sound a good deal smarter than he would have if he were speaking with an American accent and his slang was so far off from anything that Shane knew.

"Oh, um…how do you word this in America." Maxxie paused, biting his lip for a moment. "I figured you'd all be a bunch of jerk-offs and sluts but so far you all seem pretty cool."

"Hmm," Shane smiled. "Sounds better when you said it the first time."

"Yeah," Maxxie nodded. "I'm going to have to agree with you there."

"So…uh…how did you end up here from, Bristol, was it?" Shane asked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

"I was in London looking for work in plays and I was having trouble finding anything," he shrugged. "Then I got dumped and decided that it was time to give something new a shot, so I hopped a plane to New York and a did a couple of dance auditions before I got a call and an offer from camp staff – seemed like a good way to make some cash and spend my summer, so I accepted."

"Oh." Shane nodded. "Well I worked here last summer, so I can vouch for the it, it's not a bad place to make a few bucks."

"As long as I'm dancing, I'm happy." Maxxie shrugged. "I don't really have any visions of grandeur – I mean people tell me that I'm good enough, but so are a ton of other people and only a handful of us will really make it."

"True." Shane just nodded along some more, impressed with how grounded in reality the boy seemed to be. He had always known that he would be famous and his dreams had come true; his picture was on the bedroom wall of almost every teenaged girl, even a few boys, and people bought his albums, came to his shows and screamed when he walked by. "So Britain led to…Camp Rock."

"Yep," Maxxie nodded. "I like the outdoors, it's nice. My mate Tony back home called me a gonk for taking this job, he think camp counseling is stupid – I can't manage to convince him that I'm teaching, not counseling."

"We didn't really have much of a dance instructor last year, so it'll be nice to have someone for the kids who actually have physical rhythm."

"What," Maxxie grinned. "The boy band can't dance?!"

"Not for shit," Shane shook his head. "That's not how we make our money – I make mine by whining into a microphone and tugging at tight clothes, it's a lot of fun."

"Sexy." Maxxie laughed. "So…curly hair – that one's Nate, yeah?"

"Yup."

"Then the other one's Jason?"

"Bingo." Shane nodded.

"And they're together, yeah?" Maxxie asked.

"Yes, it's been a long time coming." Shane shrugged. Nate and Jason had been dancing ballets around each other for years, it was only fitting that they get together at some point.

"Shame, Nate's a ten. I'd give him one if he weren't with Jason…and, you know, if he weren't jail bait."

"You mean you're-."

"A poofter?" Maxxie nodded. "I am."

"Ah." Shane smiled slightly at the use of the odd slang. He liked the way that Maxxie spoke – it was so different from the way that everyone around him usually spoke and while he wasn't a fan of drastic changes, small differences like speech patterns were welcome.

"Shane?" There was a hesitant knock on the door and a second later, Mitchie entered.

"Hey babe." Shane slung an arm around her, kissing her on the cheek.

"That your bird?" Maxxie asked.

"My what?" Shane asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"Girlfriend," Maxxie explained.

"Oh, yeah." Shane nodded. "Mitchie, Maxxie, Maxxie, Mitchie."

"Ay-up." Maxxie nodded politely at her.

"Hey." She smiled. "What do you teach?"

"Dance." Maxxie winked. "Like no other, of course.

"He's British?" She asked, turning to Shane. Shane nodded, smiling slightly. "Wow, we have a British dance instructor – you'd better watch out Maxxie, the ladies will be all over you."

"I don't think I'll have to worry about that too much." Maxxie shot Shane a quick wink, completely over looked by Mitchie.

"Oh, ok." Mitchie shrugged. "So Maxxie, would you mind giving Shane and I a few minutes?"

"Not a problem." Maxxie nodded politely before ducking out of the cabin.

"So," Mitchie smiled, wrapping her arms around Shane's waist. "Back at Camp Rock – I can practically feel the heat between us increasing just being back in the woods." She backed him up against the wall, kissing him fiercely. "Can't you?"

"Oh yeah." Shane nodded before kissing her back. He was hoping that this summer would be just what he needed to help rekindle the former passion, the former heat that they had had. Shane knew that if the nostalgia of a return to Camp Rock wasn't enough to reignite their passion, nothing would be.