I realize that right now the story is probably a bit Alex heavy, next chapter balances out considerably. I also know I said this chapter would be longer (perhaps if I decide to re-work it at some point it might be) but I decided short, memorable and (hopefully) powerful is better. I doubt my next update is going to come so quickly. Encouragement, and feedback of any kind is always welcome. It might, just might, help me update faster too!
Bree I wish you had an account so I could respond in a more proper manner. For being the first reviewer, This one is for you.
Chapter 4
The pair is able to escape some time later. How much is impossible to tell. Minutes crawl by like hours, and hours into days. When Mitchie opens her eyes she discovers that Alex has wiggled free of her grasp and is gone. The great beam of light entering through the open door explains how Alex performs her disappearing act. Mitchie moves to her feet, stretching out sore limbs. She exits, learning from a wall clock to discover she has about a two hours before having to leave for the next show.
Grabbing a quick bit of food, shower, clothes, plus makeup and hair, everything is a whirlwind. The exhilaration of being able to perform in front of a live audience makes her blood run hot, and her heartbeat fast. The fact she gets to do so with the vaunted Selena Gomez, aka Alex Russo, makes it even better.
Mitchie, up before Alex, zooms through her set and is on cloud nine. The adrenaline, the rush, the pure energy, is exhilarating! The fact she does so with the exception of fog machines, does so without special effects makes the cheering of the audience all the more pleasing. They actually enjoyed her singing! Mitchie, or rather Demi, with a final wave and kiss skips off stage. Waiting for her is a chair and several bottles of water. She takes a seat, opening one of the plastic containers, drinking half as the bands switch.
The crowd starts to go into loud-gear once more as Alex's band start the prelude. Alex herself appears on the side of the stage, just out of view. Mitchie notices that the girl looks preoccupied, and definitely out of sorts. She can't help wonder whether her skin is paler or whether it is makeup or the outrageous lighting that is always present during shows. The distracting, beautiful, sparkling white-crystal dress she is wearing definitely does not help. Mitchie cannot help but stare. Alex looks magnificent. Already hyped up, Mitchie feels her body respond again, flushing with heat as another way of adrenaline is merrily pumped into her system.
Alex on the other hand is feeling considerably less than herself. Normally she would be completely enthralled with the preparation, and vocal exercises. Tonight though, despite all the reassurances from her band mates, the hair stylists and stage manager, she knows her heart is not in the performance. The past days' events make it so much more difficult to stay focused. All she truly wants to do is lie down and cry to sleep.
Not being able to see her family is much harder than she ever anticipated. So many things she recklessly took for granted. More then anything else she misses the reassurances that they all provide. Even Justin, her older, annoying, archrival is likely her biggest supporter. Frequently it is he who bails her out of trouble, time and time again.
Mitchie waves to an unresponsive Alex as she jogs past and into the lights and the smiling faces of thousands of fans. They begin to chant. "Selena, Selena, Selena'. Respectfully she grins, returns the waves, even bending down to touch several of dozens outstretched arms. The song picks up, the bass beginning to boom, and perfectly on time Alex begins to sing. The harmonies and melodies combine into organized chaos, complete in agreement to the shouts, chants, and arm sways of the synchronized lights, smoke, and even pyrotechnics.
The lyrics spill from her lips and as they do the memories return. She remembers when Justin on the electric guitar, she on drums, sings, create the performance of their live. They place their heart and soul on the line. Justin the nerd that he is, spontaneously labeling them as Alabaster Carnation much to her dismay and hilarity. Alex smiles in fond memory, as the cheers grow louder seeing her happy for all the wrong reasons. She nearly chuckles in mid-sentence remembering that Max did ruin the moment by conjuring the entire audience. All of that is irrelevant. In her book it is still a touching, breathtaking moment. Now that she looks back upon it is likely on of the highlights of her life, exemplifying the incredible bond, and power of love between brothers, and sister. Of all the people she misses the most; Justin is at the top of her list. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever suspect that all of them, parents included, would be broken apart like they did; and it is all her fault.
By the time the flashback ends the song is concluded. Alex is standing microphone in hand, sadly smiling, and the fans simply can't get enough. The joy, the passion, the energy is enormous, excitement, love, devotion flow through the arena in powerful waves, pushed by the creation of thousands of simple emotions combining into one huge ebb. One that rises, crests, and breaks, and recedes upon the immovable Alex, like the strongest of rocks against a stormy, pounding sea. Alex remains untouched, unresponsive to all that positive enthusiasm mere feet away.
Having always wanted to go but never having had the chance, Mitchie is floored. Alex has the crowd eating out of the palm of her hand. The words, the beats, everything, is absolutely awe-inspiring. Mitchie, usually never without a notebook or paper and pen in hand suddenly feels herself lost without either. This is the perfect chance to reflect, write be inspired by greatness.
The next song is a perfect follow-up, chosen for maximum emotional impact, and succeeds brilliantly. About the strength of friends, and the power, and potency that emerges from such relationships, only serves to remind Alex of the horrendous separation with her best friend Harper. She has no doubt that by now their friendship is long gone with no emails, or texts, and the barest of phone-calls every quarter year or so. This song is originally dedicated, and about the two, and the loyalty represented therein is not ignored. Alex's heart once more takes a blow, this time viciously. The pain in her chest explodes; bad enough she isn't sure whether the dots in her eyes are from the heat lamps above the stage or internal grief. Her brain decides whatever the cause is does not matter and follows up the pain with the appropriate cascade of downwardly negative emotions.
Alex's voice, still pretty, strong, and steady falters for a few seconds, nothing that goes noticed by the audience, but her band mates share a glance. They know their singer, her vocal strength and have played by her side for too many shows for them to be oblivious. The bass guitarist shares rapid look with the drummer, and keyboarder. Without skipping a beat, or not, sound changes are quickly made to help cover their singer. The lights on Alex's microphone inform her of what they are doing and she responds with a grateful nod, before pelting out the final verse.
Mitchie is not as clueless as the audience. Keenly aware of the subtle nuisances that occur to make a performance possible her watchful eyes catch the glimpses. Ever vigilant ears catch improper flat and sharps, only to be so carefully concealed in the background. As with Alex, all of this is secondary. The much more conscious part of her mind automatically connects the lyrics with Caitlyn. Heartstrings are strongly pinched. She owes so much to that girl. Not just for Camp Rock, or even the recording contract, but something much more primal, essential to every mortal human: companionship, friendship.
Mitchie is all too used to the signs. Alex is losing her roots, her ability to cope. The normally headstrong, emotionally solid girl is losing the psychological war being fought in her mind and body. They converge, collide, and ally into a powerful combination that leaves her struggling to maintain rational thought. How she is able to continue singing is a miracle unto itself. By now every member of the band is worried as Alex looks purposely up into the powerful stage lights. Bright, illuminated heat cruelly sears her eyes, but she takes it in stride, relishing the pain, the quick distraction. Regretfully, her attempt backfires. Instead tears make it down her cheeks. Fog and smoke machines strategically set up around the stage are prematurely activated, casting the entire frontal area in shadowy dance of lights and people.
None of this seems to faze the crowd who simply are awed by the ad hoc dance being created within the gloomy interior of smoke and haze, paired with colored lights. Any normal concert would have concluded by now due to complications on the singer, but this isn't normal. Alex learns long ago that not abiding by iron clad schedules dictated by Mark sometimes makes the Dark Room seem like a sanctuary. She doesn't have the will or want to try to survive something of that magnitude when she is in such a state as she is currently. Alex does what any soldier on the battlefield does; she swallows down the vomit of emotions, and faces her fears head on, even at the risk of complete overwhelming collapse.
She dreads this moment like no other. The final song is written as a tribute to parents and power between child and mother. Alex knows that tears are only the start. Carefully she begins, and almost instantly her voice falters. A quiet song by nature her band mates are only able to watch on, dutifully playing, raising volume and the impact of the notes when they may, but in truth, and everyone their realizes it; this is Alex's show. This song is custom designed, fitted, molded, and scripted for her to sing. There is only one way this may end, and only she can do it.
The song isn't a ballad. The style isn't rock either, or even acoustic, instead it is a soft assortment of the three, that when given powerful, vocals – like Alex's, transpires into a different element all on its' own. There are situations that no matter how many countless times a song is practiced and played that it just sounds different. There is more emotion and feeling behind the delicate melodies, and something is simply jaw dropping about the lyrics being song so diligently.
Tonight is one such occasion. Alex having no option, no ability to release, unable to battle any further spills all of the torment and frustration into a melting pot of love, devotion, and courage. All of these are attributes taken directly from her parents, her mother in particular. This is homage to the ultimate realization of all these lessons. Tears, no longer matter, they flow down both cheeks freely, light catching and reflecting off the pearl drops because tonight Selena sings truly as Alex and the voice is more powerful then any gun or sword. She is a siren, a seductress; everyone is captivated by the raw intensity, focus, the pure intent of each word. Even those in her band are stunned, struggling to keep pace with the shocking, enigmatic passions being invoked by their amazing singer. Verse after verse, Selena continues to assault the senses and mind with vocal warfare, penetrating deep into the sub primal parts of the human brain, leaving even the most hardened touched, and plenty of faces moist as the singers'. When she is finally done, she disappears back into the mist, racing off stage lest anyone see her present situation. The deafening roars of the crowd to her back.