Chapter 2

It was taking all of Shane Gray's willpower to fight the urge to punch Nate in the face, and then send Jason's thoughtless smirk into the window of their limo. Their last shoot did not go well, though by Shane's standards, it wasn't his fault at all. He had certain requirements as an artist, and if those requirements weren't met, he wasn't about to fulfill any obligations he may or may not have had. Naturally, Nate didn't see it that way. Jason just didn't see IT period. The three of them sat in the limo, the silence terse. Jason's silence, it should be mentioned, was self-induced as he was likely thinking of something completely unrelated to what Nate had just told Shane, on behalf of their label.

"I am NOT going back to Brown's," Shane said between gritted teeth. He could have sworn that Nate smirked, and Shane's knuckles grew white from willpower exertion.

"You don't really have a choice," Nate said slowly, calmly. Whatever attempts to diffuse the situation on Nate's part were futile, as Jason decided to take the opportunity to speak.

"Yeah Shane, you really blew it today." Jason shrugged, smiled impishly, and resumed staring out of the tinted window. The limo wasn't even moving.

"Jason, really." Nate furrowed his brow and resumed looking towards Shane, seated by himself on the opposite limo bench. "We've been trying for this shoot for months, Shane, and we can't afford to let you lose your temper like that again. We're lucky they even let us reschedule."

Shane frowned, dark eyes narrowed into slits.

"So all of the sudden this is my fault?" Once again, Jason beat Nate to the punch.

"Pretty much, yeah. That's why you gotta go back to Brown's."

Refusing to hear much more, Shane gathered his bags and his guitar. "Well," he said sourly, "I hope you two enjoy your nice relaxing summer at the vineyards." He got out of the limo smoothly and slammed the door shut by ramming the side of his bag into it. As he was stalking off, the window of the limo rolled down slowly.

"Just so you're aware, you'll be doing a press conference with the winner of the summer term's final concert."

Shane didn't even bother to look back. He could hear Jason laughing in the background and it was making him see red.

Mitchie could barely remember the ride to New York. It was long, but all she could think about was seeing the academy in real life. Pictures on the Internet and photos from the brochure could only sate her appetite for so long. Before she knew it, the looming skyscrapers of New York City blossomed into the horizon.

"We're almost there," Connie was practically giddy as she turned to look at her daughter. Mitchie knew that her mom's happiness was partly due to the acceptance to the academy, but most of it was that Connie would finally be going to culinary school. Much like music was to Mitchie, food was to her mom. Brown's Academy was Mitchie's dream, and the culinary school was her mother's.

Leaning over slightly, Mitchie flipped the switch on the radio, tuning it to one of the many stations in New York.

"And as you all know, Connect 3's summer tour has been cancelled," the DJ's voice echoed out of the speakers, and Mitchie raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't hear about that," Connie commented over the DJ.

"… word is that the notorious bad boy, Shane Gray, threw another temper tantrum on set, costing the band thousands of dollars in financing, and nearly severing all ties with their record label. The band has been given an ultimatum, clean up or clear out."

"Didn't those 3 Connect boys go to Brown's Academy?" Connie turned down the radio slightly and looked over at her daughter. Mitchie had to laugh.

"Connect 3, Mom, and yes, they did go to the academy. That's where they met each other and formed the band." After a slight pause so she could focus on driving, Connie spoke again.

"The things that fame does to young people, I guess." Mitchie laughed again.

"Well, I know this isn't exactly what you pictured New York City to be, but here we are! We're close enough to the subway so that you can take it to the academy every day, and I can take it to class every day!" Connie dropped her bags onto one of the small, single beds in their apartment, and went over to the window. Mitchie set her bags onto the other bed, and perched down on it with a smile.

"This is perfect, Mom. I don't care where we're staying, really. I'm just so happy to be here." Connie turned from the window to smile at her daughter.

"Let's go explore before we have to get settled in and ready for school," Connie made a face at the last word, causing Mitchie to laugh. The two quickly threw their things into place and left their small apartment. As luck would have it, both the academy and the culinary school were 20 minutes by commute from each other, with the apartment right between.

"So what's school going to be like for you, Mom?" Mitchie nearly had to yell to be heard above the roar of traffic as they made their way down the sidewalk. The two watched several limos pull by and giggled to each other. Their walk was taking them towards the academy.

"Lots to learn. We'll be on site at various functions during the summer as part of learning the formal catering.". Mitchie smiled at her mom and they walked in comfortable silence, each taking in the Big Apple in person. Even from here Mitchie could see the trees of Central Park and couldn't wait for the opportunity to take her guitar down there. The academy soon came into view and took Mitchie's breath away.

The brochures did not do it justice.

Tall swooping archways stood to greet any visitors to the academy, a U shaped building centered around a massive, elaborately landscaped courtyard. It seemed everywhere Mitchie looked, she could picture a musician sitting there, writing out his or her dreams in song. A gentle sloped hill topped with a plateau sat in the middle of the courtyard. On top of the plateau grew a willow tree, its expanse wide enough to sit at least ten people around the trunk, hidden in the weeping branches. It was growing dark as the sun started to set, and though Mitchie fell in love with the warm glow over the courtyard now, she couldn't wait to see it in daylight.

The building itself was spectacular, rustic brown brick stretching up at least two stories. On the sides of the U the building was held up by massive stone pillars. Several bronze coloured sculptures and wide benches dominated the space under the pillars, providing even more are to sit, and shelter from the elements also. The only thing that seemed out of place were the gothic looking gargoyles, but Mitchie's mom pointed out with a laugh that they all carried a stone instrument.

There was one tree in particular that drew Mitchie's attention. It resided in one corner of the courtyard that was away from the entrance from the street, and away from the entrance to the school building. The thick branches were decorated with knots, and the entire tree was so twisted and tangled that Mitchie was confident that she'd have no problem hiding in one of the crooked branches. She stared at it for a while before realizing that there was someone there. Apparently someone else had noticed it too, and was making their way towards the tree from the academy building entrance.

"Is that my nephew?" A clearly male voice rang out. Mitchie didn't have to see who it was to know exactly whose voice it was. She had heard the Internet advert enough times to know that it was no other than Brown Cessario. He had not seen Mitchie or Connie and continued to speak. "Well, if it isn't my nephew fresh from his tour? Where is the rest of the band, Shane?"

There must have been another student there. Mitchie leaned forward slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the figure hidden in the tree. Connie had lost interest by now and was lingering out on the sidewalk, staring off towards Central Park. Mitchie could hear rustling in from the direction of the tree, and positioned herself out of sight by circle of landscaped boulders.

"The rest of the band dumped me here, Uncle, and I'm sure you were perfectly aware of that." The rustling noise grew louder until Mitchie heard a thump; whoever was hidden in the tree must have jumped down. The voice was distinct and familiar, but laced with sarcasm and annoyance. To Brown, this seemed to be normal.

"I heard about your episode on set, Shane, and I'm glad you came." Set? Tantrum? Shane? Mitchie held herself up on the boulder to try once again to see this "Shane" figure. It couldn't have been who she thought it was, but she remembered the segment on the radio clearly.

"Yeah? You're glad? At least one of us here is," Shane snorted derisively. "You might as well go join Nate and Jason in the limo and start congratulating yourselves." Brown continued to speak as if he were having a relaxing, casual conversation with his nephew.

"I've been looking for a new, younger instructor," he began, "someone who can understand what these students are here for. You know they all want to be the next Connect 3." It even said so on the academy's website, Mitchie thought with a smile as she continued to eavesdrop, now slightly embarassed.

"Let's make it clear, Uncle. I don't want to be here. I'll stay on this forced exile only because it means that when I leave, I'll be gone again, on tour, with everything done how I want, when I want, I don't plan on catering to a bunch of wannabe rock stars.". At this, Brown laughed loudly.

"Is that what you're calling yourself nowadays? Rock star? Well, rock star," Brown emphasized this, "you're going to have to cater to me, and the students for the next 8 weeks, so I hope you're ready for it. Like you said, just think about your tour... it'll make it easier on you."

"Mitchie?!" Connie's voice snapped Mitchie out of her trance. Brown looked towards the direction of the voice, but it was thankfully dark enough that she could leave without Brown seeing her. Shane, being as arrogant as Mitchie figured, didn't even pay attention.

It was going to be an interesting term, Mitchie thought to herself as her mom dragged her off to see the lights at Central Park.