Author's notes: song is still by Dashboard Confessional (so I'm obsessed, it's ok) I'll probably switch artists for the next

Author's notes: song is still by Dashboard Confessional (so I'm obsessed, it's ok) I'll probably switch artists for the next few parts, but you're stuck with DC until I find a song that conveys where this is going

PS- Thanks soooo much for all of the feedback!!!!

Buried deep as you can dig yourself,

and covered with a perfect shell,

such a charming beautiful exterior.

Laced with brilliant smiles

and shining eyes and perfect posture,

but you're barely scraping by,

but you're barely scraping by.

"Turn your head a little to the left Maria," the photographer said to her. "Now look sad, not so much suicidal depressed, but I-just-lost-my-lover heartbroken."

That won't be too hard. After all, today's my anniversary: exactly one year since I left.

Maria did what she was told, but she continued to think about the importance of the day. She knew she was doing everything she had set out to do a year ago, but something was still missing.

Michael. Mom. Liz. Roswell. All of the above.

She couldn't give up now. Even though at one time, she would have given her life for Michael. But Michael didn't want anything to do with her. He made that clear the night before she left. He was probably perfectly fine without her, probably with somebody new.

Happy without me.

That was more than she could say for herself. She was as miserable now as she was when she left Roswell. No amount of success could change that.

"Maria! Pay attention!"

"Sorry..." she mumbled.

"Now turn to the right..."

Well this is one time,

this is one time that you can't

fake it hard enough to please everyone

or anyone at all,

or anyone at all.

And the grave that you refuse to leave

the refuge that you've built to flee

the places that you've come to fear the most,

is the place that you have come to fear the most.

Maria sighed as she collapsed onto her couch. It had been a long day, not to mention the fact that she couldn't stop thinking about Roswell.

I wonder if anyone has heard my song yet.

Her song. Or, more accurately, Michael's song. She had written every song on her album about him.

Will he even notice it? Will he know it's me? And will he know all the songs are for him?

She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears.

And this day is not even close to being over. she thought bitterly.

Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself,

and hidden in the public eye,

such a stellar monument to loneliness.

Laced with brilliant smiles

and shining eyes and perfect makeup,

but you're barely scraping by,

but you're barely scraping by.

When she had first gotten to LA, she had been so scared and alone, she almost called home tons of times. But everyday got a little less scary, even though her heart didn't heal any. All she did in her spare time was write songs about Michael.

Then she started getting gigs, giving her less time to wallow in self-pity. Word of mouth spread about her, and soon she had record labels pounding down her door. It was more amazing than she had ever dreamed of.

But always in the back of her mind, she wished Michael were there to share her good fortune. At times, all of her success didn't even seem worth it without him, and Liz, and all of her friends.

And then like that, she was signed, she had a record coming out, and the world was about to discover her music.

Well this is one time,

this is one time that you can't

fake it hard enough to please everyone

or anyone at all,

or anyone at all.

And the grave that you refuse to leave,

the refuge that you've built to flee

the places you've come to fear the most,

is the place that you have come to fear the most.

It wasn't her usual day or time, but Maria decided to make the call anyway. She had started calling right after she had sent the money to her mom. She couldn't resist.

"Mom?"

"Maria! What are you doing? It isn't out usual time. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, I just really needed to hear your voice. And I couldn't wait until Sunday, because...well, because today makes it a whole year since I left." She barely managed saying so much through her tears.

"Shhhh...honey, I know. It's been hard for everyone. Especially Michael."

"Please, Mom."

"I know you don't want me to tell you about how he's been the last year, but I have to. He's miserable. I don't understand what happened between you two, but you should let bygones be bygones, and call him."

"I can't...I just can't."

"All right, whatever you say."

"Thanks."

"Oh, guess what honey!" Amy said, changing the subject.

"Hmmm?"

"I heard your song on the radio today! It's wonderful babe! I can't wait to hear the whole cd."

"I'll send you an advance copy. Just be careful not to flash it around just yet."

"Don't worry so much, Maria. After all, you're the one who called when just about anyone could be over."

"I know, I know. Ok, I've gotta go...places to go, people to see."

"I love you, Maria."

"I love you too, Mom."

Maria sank to the floor in tears. She wasn't sure if she could last another day away from Roswell.

Meanwhile, in the place Maria wanted to be the most, Michael Guerin snuck into Amy Deluca's house. He grabbed her address book, knowing now that she knew where Maria was.

Does he ever get the girl?