Dana's POV
Even though I was Axel Turner's daughter, I would get nervous before going on stage to perform.
Ugh, I thought disgustedly as I realized I had referred to myself as Axel Turner's daughter. It wasn't that being my Dad's daughter was necessarily a bad thing because it wasn't. I just didn't like the inference that came with the phrase, that's all.
And to be honest, being just plain Dana Turner, was a lot easier.
Shaking my head, I berated myself for feeling nervous. By now I should be okay with the whole nerves thing. I mean I've been performing since I was five, but that doesn't stop my stomach from tumbling and my palms from sweating.
It's warm. Too warm. I thought as I tugged on the sleeves of my heavy leather jacket that boasted the Camp Star logo on the back, So why are we wearing leather in this weather? Seriously, it's like 90 degrees out here. Ugh.
Honestly, when my Dad extended the invitation for Camp Rock to perform first at the bonfire, I was kind of hoping they would that way I would have a longer period of time to calm my nerves. But I was never – despite people's perception of me – a lucky girl. So instead of getting a lengthy reprieve for my nerves, I was backstage with my hands spread out over an imaginary keyboard and humming to the tune of the song we were going to perform "Fire."
"Don't tell me," I heard the smooth but slightly raspy voice of Luke Williams from behind me, "That Axel Turner's daughter is nervous? Cause I know that ain't the case."
Luke wasn't a bad guy per say, but he was really cocky and that wasn't something I was into so it was hard for me to bite my tongue in regards to his teasing about my bouts of stage fright. Turning to face him, I gave him the sweetest smile I could muster and tucked my long strands of chocolate hair behind my ear.
"Why don't you worry about you and I'll worry about me, okay Luke?"
He laughed and the smirk I was slowly becoming used to crossed the thickness of his lips. "Dana, don't you know? I'm so good I don't have to worry about me and that means I can spend my time focusing on worrying about you and those nerves. There's just enough time for me to fix that little nervous thing you got goin' on."
As he spoke, he moved closer – so much so that I could smell the cologne he used and I swallowed the urge to cough. He should have used a lot less. I could feel my smile falter slightly but my voice remained sweet as I told him, "I can take care of my own nerves."
"If you say so." He shrugged, his voice etched with a casual tone. He turned to take his place at the head of all the back up dancers, when he stopped mid-step and turned around. Flashing me what he was sure was a winning smile, he reminded me, "My offer's still on the table – you know about fixing your nervous thing, girl. So if you're interested stop by my cabin."
He winked and I couldn't stop myself from shuddering as I took in a deep breath before the lights dimmed.
Walking out on stage calmed my nerves considerably and once everything started happening – the lights coming on, the guitars starting and even the sound of Luke's voice – my nerves had dissipated. I was getting into what was known as "performer's high." I was so wrapped up in the music and the energy that I didn't have time to be nervous.
What also helped was the glances I kept sneaking into a particular section of the crowd.
While I'm sure the back up singers and dancers all noticed Shane Gray who was sitting next to his Uncle Brown (my Dad's ex-band mate), I couldn't keep my eyes off the youngest member of Connect Three, his brother Nate.
I knew there was a chance I would run into one of the Gray brothers either before or after the bonfire – they were Camp Rock's most famous alumns – but I hadn't expected the flirting I had done with Nate when I saw him looking bored and angry (although he looked too cute to really be angry) about being there.
But something just came over me as I saw him standing on the steps with his hands in his pockets and soft brown eyes full of silent disdain for the spectacle he was about to endure, and I couldn't stop myself from saying, "Hey, Pouty Boy you better hurry the bonfire's about to start."
I wasn't a flirt by nature but I wasn't going to pass up a chance to flirt with Nate Gray. No sane girl in their right mind would pass up that opportunity and when the corners of his heart-shaped lips turned just a little after I had giggled, I knew the chance had been worth taking. Just that little hint of a smile from him was enough to make a swarm of butterflies erupt in my stomach and my entire body flood with warmth.
I could only imagine what a whole smile from him would do.
Sneaking one last glance at him, I lost myself in the music as the song came to a close and while I flipped my head back, I raised my arm fluidly after playing the last note and suddenly my bracelet flung off my wrist and into the crowd, and in an instant my nerves were back.
*~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~*
I felt sick to my stomach as I looked forlornly out into the crowd while my Dad came strutting back onto the stage. That bracelet was a gift from my Mom – she gave it to me when I turned eleven just before some school talent show – and it had been my lucky charm ever since and now it was gone.
How could you forget to tighten the clasp, I berated myself angrily, You know it gets loose sometimes!
Swallowing thickly, the feeling of being shaken up about losing my bracelet only intensified as my Dad asked if any Camp Rock staffers would like to make the switch to Camp Star. I couldn't help but feel horrified as the words left his mouth. How could he do that?
Really? You're surprised he pulled something like that, a voice in my head snorted, You know the whole basis for Camp Star's existence is just so he can get back out Brown Cessario for kicking him out of The White Rose all those years ago.
There was no conceding that what the voice in my head said wasn't true, I just tried not to think about an ulterior motive being the whole reason he opened Camp Star. I knew all about The White Rose debacle and while I knew there was no chance my Dad would ever put it behind him, I chose to believe that eventually he would and I hoped tonight – the whole inviting Camp Rock to an opening night bonfire – would be the start of it.
Clearly, I was wrong.
*~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~*
After all the chaos that came from several Camp Rock counselors making the switch to Camp Star, I finally managed to move away from my keyboard and make my way off the stage and up to the steps where Nate and his brother Shane were. I couldn't hear what they were saying exactly but I figured it had something to do with his eye getting hit with my bracelet.
Breathing in deeply and without saying anything else, I just jumped right into my apology. "I'm really sorry about that."
The whole breathing deep thing – you know how you're supposed to do it so you calm down – was rendered irrelevant when he turned around and I was staring at his soft brown eyes again. He seemed a little nervous, which made me feel a little better as he told me, "It's all good; I'm totally fine."
Laughter bubbled up in my throat as I watched him quickly shove Shane's arm off his shoulder mere seconds after he had put it around him. "I'm just happy I could catch it for you," He added, holding it out to me in his open palm.
My laughter sounded shaky to my own ears and I could only hope it sounded better to his as I said, "Well, it's always been my lucky charm so I guess it still works."
Shane's eyes narrowed briefly and his lips twisted into a frown. "Aren't you forgetting the part where you hit him in the eye?"
His question made me flush with embarrassment; something Nate obviously noticed because he gave his brother a pointed look causing Connect Three's front-man to make a quick exit. "I'll be over here."
"So..." He said, pausing to read the name on the bracelet. "Dana, you were amazing up there."
My heart skipped several beats and I felt the swarm of butterflies from earlier return to my stomach as it swooped from his praise. The flush on my cheeks only got warmer as did the rest of me as I found myself practically drowning amongst the honesty his soft eyes were colored with.
"You think?" I asked in somewhat awe. There was a brief pause that I filled with a recount of my nerves by saying in a tone that was full of relief, "I'm just glad it's over. We've been practicing for weeks and still every time I go on, I'm almost sure I'm going to throw up."
I wasn't sure if it was the honesty in his eyes or just there softness that had me continuing to talk, but I just couldn't stop myself. Not that I would admit it out loud, but the reason I couldn't shut up was probably because I didn't want him to leave. His eyes were just so...pretty and tearing myself away from them was harder than I ever guessed it would be.
"I'm really glad you guys came," I told him. "My Dad was sure none of you would show."
His brows started to furrow so I answered the question he didn't have the chance to ask yet, wincing slightly in the process, "My Dad's Axel Turner."
His eyes went wide and he asked the question slowly, as if he were trying to process what he was saying before I could even give confirmation. "He's your Dad?"
My laughter didn't just sound nervous – it sounded fake – as it tumbled off my lips awkwardly. "Everyone says that and um...Everyone says it sort of just like that. But trust me, once you get to know him he's a really great guy."
The generic statement I made in defense of my Dad had him looking amused, which I had to admit, was a very cute look for him. His lips were doing the kind of half smile he was known for – the one that had girls all over everywhere swooning and fainting and his eyes sparkled with something. I wasn't sure what and I didn't really care, I just liked that they were sparkling – it added a dimension to their softness.
"Well, I guess I should go..." I was clearly stalling and hoping somehow he would pick up the conversation so I wouldn't have to go.
But instead of picking it up, he was finding a way to end it. I really hoped the whole Axel Turner is my Dad thing wasn't making him run. "Here," He said, handing me my bracelet. "You don't want to lose it."
It sounded stupid in my head, but I couldn't stop myself from telling him, "You can keep it if you want."
He seemed to agree with my internal assessment as he laughed slightly. "What would I do with a bracelet?"
"Right," I agreed before going into apology mode again. "For the record, I'm really glad you're okay. You have really pretty eyes."
He seemed uncomfortable after my comment about the aesthetically pleasing quality of his eyes and I felt that if my bracelet was really lucky, it would somehow be able to create a hole for me to fall through right at that moment. His half smile was still playing on his lips and I took that to be somewhat of a good sign and I interpreted the sparkling of his eyes in just the same way.
"Okay, um...Yeah, that was weird," I babbled nervously. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"No, it's all good." His nervousness from earlier when Shane was standing next to him was back and if it was possible he was even cuter. "People tell me that all the time, probably because they're right in the middle of my face."
"So..." He said, pausing just long enough for me to drag out the word in a similarly awkward manner. "So..."
After another lengthy pause, I realized he wasn't exactly staring at me like he had been so I looked over my shoulder and I found my Dad staring intently at the two of us. That explains the awkwardness, I thought once again wishing the ground could somehow swallow me whole.
"Um...Yeah," I mumbled. "I'll see you around." I finished lamely, walking over to where my Dad was standing, taking the time to quickly glance in his direction once more.
*~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~N&D~*
My Dad had caught me continuing to stare at the spot Nate and I once occupied and his gruff but gentle, "Honey," jarred me out of my thoughts.
Looking up at him, I braced myself for the possibility of him berating me, but instead he was still gentle. He put his hand on my shoulder and his voice was just a little softer than before as he finished, "I don't want you talking to that boy."
In my head I was laughing – if he knew how awkward and stupid I had sounded around him, he wouldn't have told me that he didn't want me talking to Nate. I thought it would be hard to hold back some kind of snort or scoff, but it really wasn't.
Forlornly I stared at the spot where I had the opportunity to take in the clean soapy smell on his skin and have those pretty eyes of his staring into mine and I wished I hadn't been so awkward around him. I wanted the chance to smell his clean soapiness and stare into the softness of his pretty eyes again, but that didn't look like it was going to happen.
Sighing heavily, I told my Dad, "Don't worry, I don't think that's going to be a problem."
He gave me a sympathetic smile, which is something I didn't expect, but I took solace in. Feeling like a little girl, I locked hands with his and rested my head on his shoulder as we walked down the stairs of the amphitheater, which would take us back to the cabins.
And back at the cabins – or more specifically my cabin – I found that I had a new bunk mate. It wasn't hard to place the somewhat icy corn-flower blonde. Her name was Tess Tyler, TJ Tyler – yes, that TJ Tyler's – daughter.
We didn't know each other at all, really, but I had said hi to her on more than one occasion because our parents almost always attended the same parties and as their children we were invited too.
"Hey," I greeted in what I hope was a warm voice. To my own ears I sounded stiff and obviously still reeling from the prospect of not seeing Nate again.
"Hey," She returned, not even bothering to look up from her multitude of suitcases.
Okay, then, I thought as I moved toward my side of the cabin. Slowly I began to undress, my movements methodical because of the draining performance, but I was sure it was because of what happened after I had gotten off stage.
Once I was in my pajamas and she was in hers, Tess decided to acknowledge me. "So..." She started. "I bet you're wondering why I chose to come here instead of staying at Camp Rock where I've always been."
Not really is what I wanted to say but my Mom drilled the "golden rule" into my head so much that I held back. Instead, I appeared thoughtful as I sat cross-legged in my bed and turned my brown eyes in the direction of her ocean blue.
"You don't have to tell me, but if you want to, that's fine."
"Honestly, and whatever you do, don't tell your Dad – I don't want to sound like some star struck freak, you know? I mean I am TJ Tyler's daughter; I have no reason to be. But your Dad is amazing. So amazing." She gushed, oceanic eyes gleaming. "And I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to be in the presence of someone as great as Axel Turner. Plus, you guys have a way better set up here. You have real recording equipment and everything. Camp Rock just doesn't compare."
Doesn't she know Camp Rock created Connect Three? You know the biggest band in the world right now, a sarcastic voice filled my head and it was hard not to laugh.
Without sounding sarcastic, I mentioned the band casually. "Maybe they don't have a recording studio, but Connect Three seems to have done pretty well for themselves and they started out at Camp Rock."
The pretty blonde rolled her eyes. "That's all Camp Rock can lay claim to and technically it shouldn't even count. I mean – hello – Shane, Jason and Nate are Brown's nephews. They already knew how to play and sing when they got to Camp Rock. They've been doing it since they were babies. Ugh. It was basically glorified babysitting for Brown – his nephews being there. It's not he like really taught them anything. Duh." She scoffed at the end while flipping her silky hair over her shoulder somewhat defiantly.
Great, I grumbled to myself, I'm rooming with the female version of Luke Williams. Nice.