Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Mystery boy, lies

"That really hurts, Michelle Luisa Torres." Now the raven haired boy was clearly glaring at her, his words dripping with sarcasm.

"How do you know my whole name? Who the hell are you?" Mitchie was getting frustrated. Not just didn't she like not getting what she demanded, but feeling like this boy was in charge and not her.

But sure enough, instead of answering, the boy just shook his head with a glint of, what seemed, sadness in his eyes and walked towards the doors to exit the mess hall, but not before turning around once more and saying "Make sure you come to the Opening Jam tomorrow, Michelle." And muttering something that sounded like "You'll be in for a surprise little popstar!"

And the mysterious boy exited the, somewhat, cafeteria of Camp Rock. Somehow she felt sad, the boy affected her and she didn't even know why. It seemed as if she had known that boy, but who was he? Mitchie was totally and utterly confused and it didn't help her state of mind, being surrounded by teenage girls and boys screaming her name and wanting an autograph. There was nothing more she wanted, but to be alone at that exact moment of time. She wanted to get out of there, curl into a ball on her bed and never leave her cottage again. She was just so confused and the only question running through her mind was one of these kinds you know that wouldn't be solved just because you wanted them to, but they had to be answered by the person they involved and it seemed as if this precise question had to wait to be answered. The guy said something about the Opening Jam, that was being held the first day of the actual camp and it seemed as if Mitchie would most definitely have to be there to get an answer and she sure as hell wanted some.

Not caring about her surroundings, Mitchie somehow managed to escape the crowd and exit the hall, the way the mystery boy did just minutes before. She wanted answers, badly, but that would have to wait – for now. She still needed to find Caitlyn, that was the reason she was in the in the mess hall in the first place anyway. But there wasn't a point on searching the camp grounds for her anymore. The only way she'd most definitely find her ex-best friend was to ask the one man that owned the camp and loved it with his whole heart – she needed Brown's help, desperately.

--Mitchie--CampRock--

Only five minutes later, Mitchie was knocking on Brown's door, like she did the night she arrived, which was –she just realized with shock- just the night before and still so many things happened in these few hours of her stay. Her past was getting to her - and fast. She needed her old life back, she knew this now for sure. She couldn't live like this any longer, she was sick of it.

Interrupting her thoughts, there was a voice heard from the inside, saying something on the lines of "Come in!" Slowly Mitchie opened the door and saw the voices owner sitting at his desk studying a sheet of paper. As he realized who was standing right there at the door, he placed the paper safely on one of the stashes placed on his desk.

"Oh, hey Mitchie. What's bringing you here, poppet? Something wrong?" Brown asked her showing serious concern on his face.

"Well if you don't count in my run-in with my past and the whole camp knowing I'm here, well, besides that, nothings wrong. Really!" Mitchie sighed deeply before continuing. "Not that I don't deserve all of this, but well I came here to change and not having to deal with any complications anymore. I just want to get a hold on myself again, but how am I supposed to do that, if I have to deal with all this …" she gesticulated around wildly, sighing again. "… all this … DRAMA?"

"Sweet Mitchie. What drama? What happened?" So, the owner had no clue at all? That was new, somehow it seemed that two years ago he always knew everything about what was going on. But not just Mitchie changed, everyone did!

Mitchie couldn't speak, as tears were already burning in her eyes, threatening to fall, but she kept them in. She wouldn't let them fall, she never did. She just always cried herself to sleep behind closed doors, nobody had to know.

"I don't really want to talk about it now, Brown!" Mitchie answered after what seemed like hours, looking down.

A look of confusion entered the always relaxed looking face of Brown. "Then why are you here, dear?"

"Nothing important. I just wanted to know which cabin Caitlyn was in, you know the girl I ran into earlier? Well, I just wanted to tell her something and I totally forgot to ask her for her cabin. Could you maybe tell me?" Mitchie answered sweetly, now every sign of the tears, that were in her eyes just seconds before, vanished, lying as if it was normal. She just didn't think that Brown would tell her if he knew the truth, but it was important that she spoke to the once so quirky girl.

A grin broke out on the older man's face. "Looks like you already got an old friend back, huh? You getting along well?"

"Of course we are, Brown. It's like we were never separated. We're practically sisters!" Mitchie lied again, not even realizing it anymore. Her whole life consisted of lies now, there was no way she was getting out of this pattern any time soon.

"Well, then alright. She's in cabin 2." Brown answered her urgent question gladly.

But now it was Mitchie's turn to get a confused look on her face. "Cabin 2? Are you sure about that, Brown? Isn't that where the instructors stay?"

"It is, exactly. Didn't you know, Caitlyn was an instructor? This is her second year already!"

Mitchie was shocked, to say little. "She is?" she managed to choke out.

"Of course she is. She's one of the best producers Camp Rock has ever seen. I couldn't let her go easily, Mitch!"

The brunette looked at the floor again, remembering all the jam session she had with her friend when they still were campers themselves. "I remember."
Suddenly the urge to see her friend and explain herself became more and more prominent. This was the first step to get her life back. She needed Caitlyn and she would show her how sorry she was.

With that Mitchie walked over to the door in long strides and threw the door open, walking out and yelling back "Thanks Brown. I'll see you!"

--Mitchie--CampRock--

It was already turning dark as Mitchie stood in front of cabin 2. She could make out a faint silhouette, that could be her friend, through the closed curtains and shining lights.

It was now or never. She knocked on the door and it opened just seconds later.

"It was about time you arrived, N-" the colorful clothed girl, known as Caitlyn Gellar, said as she opened the door, but breaking up mid sentence, when she recognized the girl standing in front of her. It wasn't who she expected. "You? What do you want?" Caitlyn snapped harshly.

Mitchie let out a deep sigh before speaking up again and looking at the curly haired girl. "Cait! I-"

"Don't Cait me, Michelle. What the hell do you want?" her glare became icy.

"Please, Caitlyn. Please let me explain-" Again Mitchie was interrupted by the fuming girl.

"Explain what, Mitchie? How you no longer cared about me, how I got hurt by you so many times? I'm sick and tired of this. I don't need you anymore. I learned to live my life without you even though it hurt as hell in the beginning. I got over it! And now, Mitchie, if you'd excuse me. I gotta go somewhere!" And with that Caitlyn stepped around Mitchie, slamed her door and disappeared once again.

And so this first day ended. Mitchie was tired of it all and most importantly she was tired enough to sleep. She made her way to her cottage and climbed into her bed, almost immediately falling into a deep, but uneasy slumber, expecting the worst of the next day.

A/N: A rather boring chapter, I think, but anyway ... I updated, didn't I?!
Oh well, sorry for the longest wait in the history of this story, but since school started again I really was stressed and I had two major tests that I couldn't fail and it seems as if I failed one anyway xD

So ... now I can't wait to hear what you have to say ... PLZ REVIEW!!!

I'll upload ASAP, can't say when that'll be though!

xx Corinna