Camp Rock: You’re The Missing Piece I Need, The Song Inside Of Me
You're the Missing Piece I Need, The Song Inside of Me
fieryrogue
★ Rating: PG-13 (language)
★ Word Count: 24,550
★ Chosen Film: Camp Rock
★ Beta(s): rajkumari905
★ Summary: This is it! After years of longing to attend Camp Rock, David Archuleta finally gets the chance to go. Everything’s awesome until he accidentally gets into a fight with his new friend Carly over his other new friend Nick. Meanwhile, at Camp Star, David Cook is breaking all the rules and causing havoc in the wake of hearing the most perfect singing voice while walking in the woods. Problem is, he didn’t get a good look at the singer’s face, and embarks on a mission to discover this mystery person’s true identity.
★ Notes: I started 99 plot lines and didn’t cut a single one. Sorry? Also, please ignore all sense when it comes to how old anyone is or how time even passes in the weird parallel universe that is Camp Rock. Look, the movie does it too, so you can’t blame me. ;)
You're the Missing Piece I Need, The Song Inside of Me
~*~
“All right, mijo, here we are!”
Time slowed as the Archuleta’s family van finally turned off the long county highway onto a gravel road lined with trees. David’s eyes caught on the rustic-cut sign that declared they had arrived at “CAMP ROCK”.
“Oh my gosh!” he finally declared, the sign slowly disappearing as they left it further behind them. “Mom, I can’t breathe.”
Mrs. Archuleta chuckled as she continued driving. “Now, I think the directions said we drive for about a half a mile before we get to the main check-in. Keep your eye out for any turns, okay?”
David nodded, still not believing they’d actually made it. Still, physically being in a place didn’t guarantee anything. What if they’d lost his registration? What if they’d never even received it? What if David had forgotten to put a stamp on the envelope at all? What if it was still sitting on his desk at home right now?
“David, why are you crawling up your seat like that? Sit down, sweetie! We’re almost there!”
“I’m nervous, Mom. What if I’m terrible?”
“David!”
They traveled another half-mile, David clutching his seat belt across his chest the entire time. He wondered if kids arriving at Harvard or Princeton felt the same way he did right then.
No, what he was feeling had to be at least a hundred times worse.
At long last, the neverending trees gave way to something more than the narrow path and filtered sunlight. Despite not having seen anyone on the road, Mrs. Archuleta had to stop the van short of where they could see the office building as at least two other vehicles were stopped in front of them.
“What’s going on, I wonder,” Mrs. Archuleta asked aloud as they slowed to a stop. “There must be a parking area besides right here, isn’t there?”
By now David had unlatched his seat belt and practically crawled up onto the front dash in order to see what was going on. He could make out a woman talking animatedly with someone in the first car, which by the way wasn’t just an old Honda Odyssey like the Archuletas owned. David didn’t know a whole lot about cars, but it was definitely much newer and nicer than anything he’d ever seen in his life. Maybe one of those Escalade things he’d heard so much about (but never seen in real life). Despite its massive size, the shiny paint and chrome trim made it look like it’d just come off the showroom floor and belonged anywhere except in the middle of the forest.
During the five minute interval that followed, David’s attention slowly drifted from whatever the problem up ahead seemed to be to the car directly in front of them -- an older model station wagon with camping supplies stuffed in the back and a teenage girl hanging out the passenger window. David was still gazing at the back of her long, dark hair when she suddenly disappeared into the car, the door flew open, and the girl tumbled out. David hadn’t completely considered how ‘rock’ Camp Rock would be until his eyes landed on her outfit of cutoff jeans, pink tank top and leather jacket.
Looking down at himself David realized he was wearing clean, new jeans, a polo shirt, and new sneakers. Horrified, he quickly untucked his shirt, hoping that would improve things. It mostly just made him look like a sloppy cell phone salesperson.
“Oh, that girl is coming over here,” Mrs. Archuleta observed, and David looked up just in time to find her leaning on his side of the car. Closer up, David could see she had done some crazy thing to her hair that made it stick up everywhere (his sister Claudia did this sometimes, he totally didn’t get it), and that she wore large, silver hoop earrings that somehow didn’t get tangled in her hairdo.
David rolled down the window.
“So, we’re probably going to be here awhile with those guys in front of us,” the girl said in greeting, brushing hair out of her face. If David hadn’t expected how rock and roll campers would be, he definitely didn’t expect any of them to have Irish accents either.
“What’s going on?” Mrs. Archuleta asked, trying to lean as far as her seat belt would allow her.
The girl rolled her eyes. “It’s those guys. Every year they immediately make complaints about their cabin assignments. It’s randomly assigned and they know it. They haven’t even gotten out of the car yet!”
“And who are they?” David asked, genuinely curious. He couldn’t help leaning further into the dash even though that didn’t help him see any better at all.
“Oh, right,” the girl said, “you’re new, huh?”
David nodded, only feeling slightly embarrassed that the first year he’d ever been to camp was when he was eighteen.
The girl sighed as she looked off towards the conversation that was still going on with the camp employee and someone inside the Escalade.
“The Jonas brothers,” she finally answered, squinting her eyes.
“Sounds like a boy band,” Mrs. Archuleta murmured. The girl nearly choked she laughed so hard.
“Wow,” she said, beaming in at the two Archuletas. “Don’t ever say that in front of them,” she suggested. “Especially Nick. He’s the worst. By the way, I’m Carly.”
Carly thrust her hand in through the window and David took it awkwardly, introducing himself in return.
“Nice to meet you, David,” she said smiling. “Oh, I’d better get back to the car. Looks like the princelings are finally moving. See you around!”
Carly jogged back to the station wagon as three teenage boys exited the Escalade in a fashion reminiscent of celebrities arriving at the Grammys. The comparison wasn’t exactly an exaggeration -- at least half a dozen girls ran up to talk to them as soon as the Escalade cleared the entrance into the campground.
A small parking lot did in fact lay just a bit beyond the office building, so Mrs. Archuleta followed Carly’s car without stopping. As they passed these apparently infamous Camp Rock campers now standing along the road, David tried to catch a decent glimpse of them. All three brothers were of average height, dark-haired, and fashionably dressed. Leaning back to see around his mother, David was wondering which one might be Nick when his eyes locked with the youngest brother, whose haunting gaze made his heart stop. The surprise caused him to tumble awkwardly into the back seat.
“David!” Mrs. Archuleta shouted, stopping the car. “Are you all right?”
“Fine!” David assured her, rubbing his throbbing shoulder. He struggled to untangle his legs from between the front seats.
“I just forgot to put my seat belt back on.”
~*~
“I can’t believe he’s still asleep.”
“I know, right? Usually he can detect as soon as we leave a wi-fi hotspot. How long we been sitting here, Tiemann?”
“About fifteen minutes.”
“Incredible!”
Even before opening his eyes, David Cook knew he was about to be annoyed. Firstly, because he could tell it was daylight, and thus horrible sunshine was surely just about to blind him in two seconds time. Secondly, it was terribly hot in the car, which only added to the discomfort of sleeping in a car in the first place. Thirdly, he’d just heard the latter part of his bandmates’ conversation.
“Shh, Princess is waking up,” he could hear Andy whisper.
“I hope there’s a good explanation for why we’re just sitting here in a boiling car,” Cook grumbled, straightening up and rubbing his eyes. Sweat had collected at the nape of his neck, which made him even more uncomfortable. “Is there traffic or something? Did you guys try to drive through L.A. again instead of going around?”
Neal Tiemann didn’t laugh very often, but when he did it was an unforgettable bark.
“L.A.?” he gasped, clapping Cook hard on the shoulder. “Oh boy, that’s hilarious. We’re no where near L.A., buddy.”
“But it should be a place just as familiar,” Andy added wryly, rolling down one of the heavily tinted windows to reveal a canvas of nothing but evergreens and blue sky. The sound of birds chirping washed in on the cool air that was Cook’s only relief at the moment.
“What are you talking about?” Cook demanded, straining to see over his best friend’s shoulder. “Where are we?”
“How quickly they forget their roots,” Neal said nostalgically. “It’s sad really.”
Cook was rightly confused, especially since he was now trying to check messages on his phone despite not having any cell reception at all. Why didn’t he have any cell reception? He glared out the window again, squinting at the endless trees.
“Where are we?” he asked again slowly, now noting some log cabin style buildings in the far off distance. “I haven’t been in a forest since I was at… oh God.”
Neal burst into laughter again and Andy couldn’t help snickering.
“Welcome to Camp Star!” Neal announced excitedly.
“Why are we here?” Cook demanded through gritted teeth. “Take me home right now.”
“Oooh no,” Andy replied, now grabbing for a duffel bag in the seat behind them and shoving it into Cook’s lap. “You’re here for the whole summer, buddy.”
“I am not staying here!” Cook bellowed. “You can’t make me! I hate nature!”
“But nature sure loves you,” Neal said sweetly. “Also? The label isn’t exactly happy about the drunken telling off of the Tallahassee crowd last weekend and cutting the show short. Though that one lady in the front row didn’t mind being gifted your pants.”
“I apologized for that!” Cook replied defensively. “The very next day!”
Andy sighed. “In your bathrobe… hungover… with a Bloody Mary in your hand at nine in the morning.”
“That is a breakfast drink,” Cook said smartly. “Because vegetable juice.”
“Anyway,” Andy continued, “the label thinks you need to do some volunteer work to really make up for it.”
“And who is more deserving than the very place that gave you your great big start?” Neal added, now obviously enjoying this more than anyone.
“No,” Cook said firmly, crossing his arms. “Just no.”
“You sort of have to,” Andy insisted. “The deal has been made. They’re expecting you.”
Cook huffed. “So? Tell them I’m sick. Tell them I died.”
“Probably the only worse career killer,” Neal joked.
“You’re going,” Andy said, now putting on his serious face. In one movement he flung open the door with one hand as he tugged on Cook’s jacket with the other. Neal helped by pushing from the other side until Cook had basically fallen out onto the dirty ground.
“Let me back in!” Cook demanded, banging his fist on the door.
“Don’t forget this!” Neal hollered, shoving Cook’s guitar out Andy’s open window. Cook had to drop the duffel bag in his arms in order to catch it.
“Oh, and Cook?” Neal added, practically laying in Andy’s lap.
Cook just stared at him, squinting.
“Will you make me a birdhouse?”
“I’m gonna give you some kind of bird!” Cook growled, lunging towards the car.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Andy shouted, pushing an hysterical Neal off of him. “You gotta be PG from now until the end of summer, Cook. Might as well start now.”
There wasn’t enough time from the moment the words left Andy’s mouth to the closing of Andy’s window to get another word in edgewise, and besides, the car was starting to drive away. Cook stood there in the residual dust, rage pulsing through his veins.
“I HATE YOU!” he yelled after the car. “I HATE THIS PLACE. I HATE EVERYTHING.”
Completely forgetting that he’d dropped his duffel bag at his feet only moments before, Cook immediately tripped over it and landed flat on his face in the dirt.
~*~
The Archuletas and the Smithsons (as David quickly found out was Carly’s last name) walked together from the small parking area to the main office. Mrs. Archuleta had already fallen to asking a million questions of Mr. Smithson, which David only found slightly embarrassing. He and Carly trailed behind their parents, chatting.
“Where are you from?” David asked immediately, which made Carly chuckle. It occurred to him that people probably asked her that all the time.
“Dublin,” she replied. “We moved here a couple years ago.”
“Wow,” was all David could think to say. He’d hardly ever been out of the state of Utah, let alone the United States.
The camp office proved to be pretty small, so Carly and David decided to sit outside while their parents went to check in and get their cabin assignments. It was a nice day with a cool breeze flowing through the campground. After a moment of just taking in the atmosphere, David’s eye caught the little group of campers still huddled around the Jonas family across the way.
“What’s up with them anyway?” David asked. Carly sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Don’t worry about it is my advice,” Carly answered through gritted teeth. “They’re not worth your time.”
David had only known Carly for maybe fifteen minutes at this point, but something about her really resonated with him. It wasn’t easy for him to make friends and here he had one fall right into his lap. So even though he was extremely curious, David figured it’d be best not to push the issue, especially since Carly looked so annoyed.
They seemed to wait an awfully long time, but David didn’t mind so much. He’d wanted to come to Camp Rock for so long that it was taking him a little while to get used to the fact that he was finally there. Carly filled him in on some of her past experiences at the camp as they watched other campers arriving and greeting one another.
“As soon as we get our assignments we’ll take all our stuff to our cabins and settle in,” she explained. “There will be some free time to get to know your cabin mates and stuff, then it’ll be dinner time. The first dinner always takes ages because they do this whole welcome to camp spiel and you’re just starving by the time they finally bring you some food.”
David remembered that his mother had packed a whole box of granola bars in one of his bags, so he made a mental note to share some with Carly. Somehow she seemed like the type of person who would be very grumpy when she was hungry.
More people were arriving now, and David found it fascinating to watch people pass by with their various instruments and things. He’d brought his keyboard, of course, but he specifically remembered the Camp Rock brochure advertising a beautiful grand piano in one of the large meeting rooms. He really couldn’t wait to get his hands on it if he could.
David had drifted into daydreaming when someone suddenly appeared in front of him, startling him out of his reverie. Staring upward, he found himself looking into the dark eyes and admittedly handsome face of one of those Jonas brothers.
“You’re new,” was all the stranger said. This made David feel more awkward than usual. Who didn’t at least say hello first?
“Back off, Nicky,” Carly said sharply. “This how you have to make friends now? Stealing them off of other people?”
The Jonas boy didn’t look amused at all, not that he seemed very cheerful in the first place. He squinted his eyes at Carly, his lips a thin line.
“First of all, I hate being called Nicky,” he informed her.
“Yeah, I know,” Carly replied, smirking a little bit.
“Second, as a cabin leader and instructor this year, it’s important that I become familiar with new campers.”
Carly couldn’t have looked any more beside herself, and she straightened up considerably.
“What!” she declared, her eyes narrowed. “I applied to be an instructor too, but didn’t get accepted. Why on earth would they choose you instead?”
David had a feeling that he knew the answer to this, given how Carly had already painted the Jonas family. It seemed the Jonases had some kind of in with the camp administration or money or both.
“Some things are industry secrets,” Nick said cryptically, looking very pleased with himself. “Now would you stop interrupting my conversation with…?”
Nick’s fierce eyes flicked over to David, who had suddenly forgotten his own name.
“Uh… oh, David. I’m David.”
“It’s nice to see you here, David,” Nick replied. “What’s your instrument?”
“Piano,” David managed to say, though he himself wasn’t completely sure that was the right answer. Nick’s eyes lit up at this response.
“Awesome,” he said. “Me too. I’ll see you in class then.”
Just then one of the other Jonases called out to Nick, informing him that they were moving on to the cabin now. Nick confirmed he’d be joining them momentarily.
“See you in piano class,” Nick said to David as he began to step away. “See you never, Smithson.”
“It’ll be too soon,” Carly replied, arms folded across her chest.
Nick flashed a smile, waving as he caught up with his brothers.
“That was… weird,” David finally said after a moment.
“Yeah, well, just be careful,” Carly replied through tight lips.
“What do you mean?” David asked, turning to look at her.
But David didn’t find out what she meant because just then their parents emerged from the office, stacks of paperwork in their hands and laughing together.
“Here you go, mijo,” Mrs. Archuleta announced, handing David a sheet with camp rules printed on it. Another sheet had a map of the campground and his cabin assignment written at the top -- Lakeside group, cabin L2. Someone had circled the location on the map as well.
“Right by the lake!” she added. “Oh, you’re going to have such a good time, David!”
Considering what he’d just witnessed, David was sure it’d at least be interesting.
~*~
It took no less than a half an hour for Cook to make it to the main office and discover that absolutely no one was around. It was downright creepy, in fact. He was ready to call Andy to get his ass back to camp and pick him up because -- ha ha! -- the joke was now complete and he could stop kidding around now. Of course, looking at his phone he remembered he had zero service and so he was really gearing up to murder the very next human being he saw.
It turned out the next human being he saw was a little kid, maybe ten years old, hustling like crazy in the direction of the camp’s main campfire area, where every night the whole camp got together and sang sappy “we’ll be friends forever” songs and stupid junk like that.
Cook rolled his eyes and sank against the office door. He’d forgotten about the initial “Welcome to Camp Star!” gathering on the first day of camp, something he’d sort of hated even when he’d been a camper. It was definitely the least rock and roll thing of the entire organization and there was no way in hell Cook was going to that. He knew where the staff cabins were -- he’d break in if he had to.
Hoisting his guitar over his shoulder and taking up his bag again (didn’t he have people to do this for him?), Cook started making his way up the steep path towards the staff cabins. He’d always thought it’d be great to be far away from the chaos of camp, but hadn’t considered how far out it truly was. A driver would’ve really come in handy right about then.
From the top of the hill, one could see just past the communal gathering spot (yes, two hundred kids were currently running around like little ants down there), and because trees had been cleared for said gathering area, a person also had a marvelous view of the lake. With the sun started to set behind the trees and mountains in the distance, it looked something like a picturesque postcard from a distant land.
Remembering that he was supposed to be pissed off, Cook turned on his heel and stomped up the steps to the first staff cabin. For some insane reason the door was actually unlocked, so Cook let himself in, grumbling all the while.
To his disappointment, the staff cabins were barely more comfortable than he remembered the camper cabins being. Tossing his duffel bag on the floor, Cook immediately threw himself onto the nearest bed. Just as his head hit the pillow there was a crinkling sound like paper, and he turned in irritation to find a pink envelope wedged under his right ear. Though tempted to throw it across the room, his eye caught the word “David” written across the front, as if someone knew that was the exact bed he was going to choose. He tore the envelope open savagely and light pink paper with ruffled edging poked out. Cook tugged at the note in order to read it.
Welcome back, Davey!
Sorry to hear you’ve had some troubles lately, but hopefully a return to your roots will help you center your mind. We’re so excited to have you back! I’ve taken the liberty of including your first week’s class schedule. Be there or be square!
XOXO,
Aunt Paula
Cook groaned at the note from his aunt, who he had totally forgotten would be there too. She’d been the director of Camp Star since its first days and had been the one who first encouraged him to come to camp. The worst part about having his Aunt Paula around was that it was nearly impossible to be annoyed with her about anything. Complaining to her about his current situation wasn’t going to do him any good at all, and all he really wanted at the moment was to complain. Everything was terrible.
A cursory glance over the week’s schedule had him teaching classes such as Beginning Guitar, Classic Rock Study, and Stage Presentation, whatever that even meant. A lot of the classes started before noon as well, which was very quickly going to become a problem for him. Who on earth did anything before noon?
Tossing the note onto the bedside table, Cook let out a gigantic sigh as he stared at the ceiling made of roughly cut tree trunks. What a waste of summer. He should’ve been on tour, he should’ve been getting paid. But here he was, stuck at Camp Star with no Internet, no screaming fans, and no concierge service.
Oh yeah, and kids. Lots and lots of kids.
Cook rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.
~*~
David sat with Carly at dinner, where she introduced him to some of her other friends -- Jason, Brooke, and Syesha. Carly had been right about the long-winded speeches, and by the time they finally ate anything they all fell silent save for the noise of forks clinking on dishes.
After dinner they were free to socialize and get familiar with the camp until nine o’clock, when they’d have to return to their cabins and begin getting ready for bed. Everyone else had been to Camp Rock before, so they helped David find where his classes would be and then walked around, pointing out where other important places were, such as the snack shack, the first aid hut, and the sports equipment shed.
As the sun began to sink behind the trees, the group found itself drifting towards the silent lake, its shining surface a calm, flat sheet except for one family of ducks swimming across the middle. David hadn’t thought about it too much before, but being close to the lake was going to be so pleasant.
“Are there fish in this lake?” he asked idly as he, Jason, and Carly stared out into its glittering waters. Brooke and Syesha had wandered off to find stones to skip.
“Yeah,” Jason replied. “You can fish on certain days during the summer if you like.”
David didn’t necessarily like fishing, he mostly wanted to know if any might brush against him while swimming, but to be polite he nodded and hummed as if he might consider it.
“Don’t forget we share the lake with Camp Star,” Carly explained, squinting against the setting sun.
“Wha -- we share the lake with who?” David stammered.
Carly turned to look at him, brow raised. “Camp Star? Surely you know they’re next door.”
David shook his head, a little embarrassed that he didn’t know something that seemed pretty major.
“It’s another music camp,” Jason explained. “The lake’s pretty big, as you can see, so it’s usually not a problem. It’s pretty deep in the middle so people don’t go out too incredibly far.”
“Does anyone ever try to boat across?” David wondered, trying to imagine one camp attempting to ambush the other in the middle of the night.
“Sure, crazy people,” Jason laughed. “ I mean, I think it happens now and then, but no one’s done it in awhile.”
David still had more questions. “How big is Camp Star? What’s it like?”
A dead silence hung for a long moment before Jason answered.
“It’s a bit bigger than Camp Rock,” he explained, to which Carly huffed and rolled her eyes. “They’re, you know, different.”
“A bit bigger?” Carly said. “Jason, I love you, but as always you’re way too nice. That place is gigantic. I think twice as big as Camp Rock. It extends all the way out in that direction and meets up against us on that side, in the middle of the wooded area.” Carly pointed around them as she explained.
“Wow,” was all David could think to reply, trying to imagine the size of Camp Star.
“And as far as what they’re like,” Carly began, folding her arms. Jason gave her a look and she seemed to change her mind about what she was going to say.
“Like Jason said. Different.”
David wanted to ask how they were different, but it’d become obvious that no one wanted to talk about it. Besides, David could tell well enough that “different” was a euphemism for something less than ideal.
Thankfully, Brooke and Syesha returned with a giant collection of smooth stones they’d found, and all five spent the next hour skipping stones and laughing, thoughts of Camp Star quickly slipping away.
~*~
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Cook had been asleep for maybe five seconds (or at least it seemed like it) when a voice he hadn’t heard in ages awoke him from his frustrated slumber. The Australian lilt confused him at first, but once he’d managed to pry his eyes open he was about as close to happy as he’d been since he’d arrived at this godforsaken place.
“Mike!” he croaked, rubbing his eyes as he sat up in bed. “What’re you doing here?”
“Uh, I’m staff here, duh,” Michael replied, as if this was something the nightly news reported on regularly. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Cook mumbled. “I’m surprised you don’t know.”
“Oh, I know,” Michael replied, grinning. “I just wanna hear you say it.”
“I hate you,” Cook said, to which Michael reared back in laughter.
“Ah, I remember the first time you said you hated me,” Michael recalled nostalgically. “Twelve years old, just outside the music hall. I’d convinced you to canoe across to Camp Rock in the middle of the night and your boat capsized.”
“I almost drowned!” Cook protested. “That’s not funny!”
“It’s sooo funny,” Michael replied, plopping himself down next to Cook on his bed. “I’m glad you’re not dead though.”
“No thanks to you,” Cook said, remembering how many other times Michael had come up with schemes that put both their lives in danger. “We caused some trouble though, didn’t we?”
“Oh yeah,” Michael agreed. “The only problem with being staff now is you’re expected to prevent those kinds of shenanigans. Pfft.”
Cook couldn’t help a small smile. “Please tell me we’re at least in the same cabin.”
“Not only are we in the same cabin, we are the cabin.” Michael gestured dramatically around the room, where at least two other people could’ve slept. “No one else assigned here.”
Cook couldn’t believe his luck. “What!” he exclaimed. “Really?”
“You may be being punished, but Paula thought you still deserved your private space.” Michael paused and grinned. “Well, private space plus me.”
“You can be in my private space any time,” Cook said, fully aware of what he was saying.
“Are you flirting with me?” Michael asked, giving his friend a side eye.
“Uh, duh,” Cook answered, elbowing Michael in the ribs.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” Michael laughed, rubbing his side. “It hasn’t been the same without you.”
~*~
Even though David’s excitement for camp had kept him awake long after everyone else had fallen asleep, it was the same excitement that woke him up before everyone else as well. It was so early, in fact, that he’d had time to read two chapters of his book before finally deciding to get dressed. Hoping he wasn’t breaking any rules, he quietly left the cabin to go for another walk by the lake. Back home he was used to doing this sort of thing, spending his quality “me” time before breakfast. It really helped him prepare mentally for the rest of the day.
As quiet as the lake had been the night before, now it was alive with birds chirping and squirrels scampering about. These little creatures brought a smile to David’s face, and he got so lost in enjoying this peaceful activity that he very nearly ran into someone jogging towards him.
“Hey, watch out!” the person yelped automatically, pulling his headphones off and turning on him. “Oh, it’s you.”
David looked up to find Nick Jonas glaring back down at him, his dark curls wet with sweat and sticking to his forehead. Clearly, Nick also liked getting out before everyone else for a morning run.
“Sorry!” David apologized, jumping out of Nick’s way. “I wasn’t paying attention. Sorry.”
The corner of Nick’s mouth raised slightly as he said, “No problem. I can get pretty in the zone myself. What’re you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” David answered, a little distracted by the clingy shirt Nick was wearing. “Too excited to start my classes.”
This made Nick smile, which for some reason hit David right in the chest. Nick seemed like a pretty stoic guy, so getting a genuine smile out of him felt a little like winning a prize. David couldn’t help but smile in return.
“Glad to hear it,” Nick replied. “Well, I’m gonna finish my run. Technically, I should tell you to get back to your cabin before anyone thinks you’re missing.”
“Technically?” David asked.
“Yeah, since I’m kind of staff. But really it’s because I wouldn’t want you to miss my class,” Nick said. David swore he winked at him, but it could’ve just been squinting.
David ate breakfast with his friends, something that gave him great relief considering that before he arrived at camp he’d been sure he’d be eating alone the whole time. It turned out Brooke also played the piano, and that she’d be in David’s same class that morning, while Jason had some kind of fashion styling class he’d signed up for and Carly would be in a career management class.
It had not occurred to David that the piano class was taking place in the same room where the camp’s gorgeous grand piano was housed. Sure, he’d found the building the night before, but the connection that the meeting hall was also where that incredible instrument lived hadn’t entered his mind at all. Perhaps it’d been because he was too distracted by his new friends, but as he walked into the room now even Brooke’s excited rambling faded into the background. There it was, slightly elevated by a raised section built in front of the expansive glass picture window. Sun glinted off its shiny surface and David stood hypnotized.
“Okay, everyone calm down.” Nick’s voice carried across the room as he made his way to the front and stood directly in front of the piano. David’s heart did another flip of excitement.
“I know you’re excited, but we have to talk about a few things first,” Nick started. David was instantly mesmerized. Nick sure seemed to command a room, and he’d only said a few words so far. “But even before that, I must congratulate you all on being in this advanced level class. As you can see, it’s smaller than those beginner classes you undoubtedly remember taking.”
This made David wonder how in the heck he’d even gotten in, but maybe his mom had really sold Camp Rock on his piano ability. No doubt she’d shown them one of the dozens of videos on her phone of him playing. He supposed that was fine, he’d hate to have to start in a beginner’s class, but now he felt an expectation-fueled anxiety that he’d not anticipated beforehand.
The class consisted mostly of Nick talking about what to expect from class and the types of things they’d cover, mixed with him occasionally sitting down at the piano to play a few things. It became abundantly clear as to why Nick was teaching this class: he had a lot of talent. Two or three people had a chance to introduce themselves and give examples of their playing, but class time ran out before it got to David.
David was still packing up his things after most other people had left, rushing off to their next lessons. David’s next thing was Recording Studio, which took place in the building next door, so he didn’t need to be in such a hurry, thankfully.
“Hey.”
David looked up to find Nick directly in front of him. The guy could move like a ninja, apparently, because David hadn’t heard him approach at all.
“Hi.”
“I’m bummed we didn’t get to your introduction,” Nick said.
“Yeah,” David replied. “It’s okay. I’m always way too nervous on the first day anyway. It’ll be better tomorrow.”
“What about today at lunch?” Nick asked casually.
“Pardon?” David replied.
“What’re you doing at lunch?” Nick repeated.
“Er… eating in the mess hall, I guess,” David answered, slightly confused. Nick laughed, but David had no idea why -- it wasn’t like there was any other choice of dining establishment at camp.
“You’re funny, you know that?” Nick said. “No, I mean, come have lunch with me and my brothers.”
“Oh,” David replied. “Yeah, sure. Where do you usually sit?”
Nick laughed again, and David felt a strange mix of pleasure and pain. Nick’s laugh was just as musical as he was, but David also felt a little like he’d stumbled onto another Camp Rock secret that he just didn’t know about yet.
“Get your lunch and then come to our cabin,” Nick explained. “In the Arrowhead group. Cabin A4.”
“Are we allowed to eat in the cabins?” David asked. He was pretty sure no one was supposed to leave the dining area.
Nick smirked and tilted his head. “Just be there at noon, okay? Now get going, your next class is in one minute.”
~*~
At approximately six in the morning the next day, Cook awoke to the sound of Michael singing to himself in the sad excuse for a kitchen that existed in their cabin. Really there was just a toaster and coffee supplies, but Michael managed to make a whole hell of a lot of noise bumping around in there anyway.
Cook rolled over, rubbing his eyes.
“Is that entirely necessary?” he grumbled, squinting across the room.
“Morning, darling,” Michael sang in reply, carrying two cups of coffee to Cook’s bedside. “Here, I brought you something.”
Cook sat up and peered into the cup. Despite being up at an inhuman hour, the smell of freshly brewed coffee could at least ease his annoyance a little bit. Besides, he’d seen the French press on the counter the night before, so he knew he was about to enjoy coffee that was about a hundred times better than the coffee in the dining hall.
“You put cream in it and everything,” Cook commented, taking a careful sip. “Aww, you remembered.”
“Well, and there was that video someone sold to TMZ of you throwing black coffee at a roadie last month.”
“Look, he knew better,” Cook replied, though he did feel badly about that particular incident. “He’d worked for us for months, he knew how I took my coffee.”
“You’re lucky he didn’t sue you,” Michael said casually.
“I’m gonna throw this at you in a second,” Cook threatened. Michael barked a laugh.
“Mhmm. Now, I hope you’re comfortable because I’ve been charged with giving you your new schedule,” Michael explained, now producing a sheet of paper.
“What!” Cook protested, almost spilling boiling coffee on himself. “But I already got a schedule, what are you talking about?”
“So, yeah, I guess someone decided you were getting off too easy, so you’ve been swapped with one of the new instructors.”
Cook didn’t even need to look at the schedule. He knew what new instructors got charged with.
“They wouldn’t dare,” Cook said seriously. “I will knock down Aunt Paula’s door in protest if they did.”
“They did and you’d better not,” Michael explained. “She’s like the only one sticking up for you right now in this whole debacle.”
Reluctantly, Cook set his coffee down on his bedside table and took the new schedule from Michael.
8:00 -- Breakfast
9:00 -- Junior Rock Basics
10:30 -- Guitar for Beginners (Juniors)
12:00 -- Lunch
1:00 -- Rock Style (Juniors)
2:30 -- KidVentures
Cook looked up at Michael. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, and you’ll need to watch your mouth working with the kiddos,” Michael answered.
“What the hell is KidVentures?” Cook asked, scrunching his face.
“You don’t remember? Maybe that came after you’d left,” Michael replied. “Walking outside and discovering nature’s music?”
Cook scowled. “Ugh, sounds horrible. Also? Hippie weird. Did Aunt Paula come up with that?”
Michael didn’t say anything, but made a face that clearly said, “Yes, of course she did.”
“How am I supposed to teach a class I know nothing about?” Cook asked, hoping he might be able to get out of it.
“Gotcha covered, mate,” Michael answered as he pulled a thick handbook from seemingly nowhere. “You might want to find a minute to read the section in there about it.”
Cook groaned and fell back on his bed. Could this day get any worse? It was only ten after six and he’d already been given what amounted to babysitting duty and he had a bunch of stuff to read.
Breakfast went way too fast despite the fact that Cook tried to drag it out as long as possible. He was not looking forward to working with the juniors all day. He hated juniors. He hated juniors when he was a junior. Time could not pass quickly enough for him to grow up and be able to hang out with the high schoolers who had bands back at home and snuck out at night to raid the cantina.
After quickly looking over the instructors’ manual, Cook decided he would just wing it. Who knew better how to become a star than him anyway? Nobody, that’s who.
Junior Rock Basics was a terrible class. It was supposed to consist of introducing basic elements of rock music to seven year olds, which really meant a lot of explaining who the Beatles were and trying to avoid the real reasons Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin didn’t make it to thirty. Not only that, but it sure seemed like seven year olds had a lot of damn energy at nine in the morning. They seriously would not shut up for two seconds straight the entire time.
The beginning guitar class was better, if only because Cook got to sit down for awhile. It might have been worse on the noise level, however, in the sense that no little kid had the strength to hold down a guitar string properly so every note sounded awful. Towards the end of class nearly everyone was crying because their fingers were sore.
At lunch, Cook skipped the dining hall to go find some aspirin or a beer or maybe both. He only found aspirin.
He gave up five minutes into Rock Style because he didn’t understand what it even meant, so he just let the kids run around screaming at one another for an hour and a half.
By the time he had to conduct the ridiculous KidVentures class he was almost glad. At least the noise wouldn’t reverberate around the room back at him if they were outside.
“Mr. Cook?” one of the early arrivals said as soon as she came into the room where they were supposed to meet. She put out her hand, but Cook didn’t take it.
“Please don’t call me that,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “Mr. Cook is my dad.”
“I believe in keeping my contacts professional, Mr. Cook,” the little girl replied matter-of-factly. Now that Cook took a good look at her, he saw she carried a clipboard under her arm and a small backpack.
“It’s David,” Cook said, “and I won’t tell you again. What are you, some kind of mini PA or something?”
The girl rolled her eyes.
“Manager,” she said. “I wouldn’t normally take these fluffy explore-your-inner-being classes, but I realize I need to understand the people I’m working with.”
Cook made a face. This little girl was reminding him an awful lot of his own representation right then and it was giving him another headache.
“Look, kid,” Cook started, but she cut him off.
“Miranda,” she corrected.
“You sure you don’t want to be called Ms. Whatever Your Last Name Is?” Cook asked smartly.
“You’re the teacher, I’m the student, sir,” she replied. “That doesn’t seem appropriate.”
“Of course not,” Cook mumbled, just about ready to be a level of inappropriate she had probably never experienced in her young life. Other kids were beginning to gather now and Cook took a quick roll call.
“First item of business,” Cook said as he reached into his leather jacket pocket. “If you’re forced to go outside into the daylight, always carry your sunglasses. Aviators or Wayfarers being the most acceptable choices.”
Though he’d expected himself to be the only one who would be putting on sunglasses, it turned out that a lot of kids were prepared for such a recommendation.
“Isn’t that more of a Rock Style subject?” Miranda piped up beside him.
“Miranda,” Cook replied without even looking at her. “Please shut up.”
Cook managed to lead the kids down to the lake and back and around two short hiking paths before he ran out of ideas of what to do with them. Ideas that mainly consisted of, well, walking and being as silent as possible. “To absorb the music of nature,” he’d told them. Resting his pounding head was more like it.
They’d managed to use up a whole thirty minutes.
“You guys wanna just skip rocks on the lake for awhile?” Cook asked the clearly bored group of kids in front of him.
The reply consisted mostly of shrugs and “Why not?”, so they made their way back to the water a second time.
About ten minutes of this and everyone was bored again, but Cook didn’t care. He had no idea how he was supposed to carry on like this all summer. He hated both nature and kids, and there were bugs every damn where to boot.
“Davey, hi!”
Cook looked up to find his aunt briskly making her way towards him.
“Aunt Paula,” he replied, trying to sound cheerful as she nearly suffocated him in a hug. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you.”
“Super busy this year, Davey,” she answered, beaming. Cook actually really hated being called Davey, but somehow he could never bring himself to tell her that. She was just too damn cheerful.
“How’s it going?” Paula asked, concern already on her face.
“He’s cursed six times in the last forty minutes,” Miranda reported, scaring Cook half to death. He had no idea she’d been so close.
“Miranda, what’d I say about talking?” Cook scolded. “And sneaking up on me?”
“To do neither,” the girl replied. Aunt Paula raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, everybody!” she suddenly called out to the nearby kids, clapping her hands. “I need everyone to listen carefully, okay? I want each of you to go out and find three things we could use as instruments from nature, but don’t pull anything off of trees or anything like that! Only if it’s already laying on the ground. You have five minutes, go!”
The kids scattered as if someone had announced there was free ice cream somewhere, and Aunt Paula took a seat next to Cook on the thick log he’d been inhabiting.
“What’s going on with you, Davey?” Paula asked, laying a hand on Cook’s arm. “You seem so angry these days.”
“I am angry!” Cook spat out, louder than he’d intended. “I’ve been marooned at this godforsaken camp and I’m being forced to do the worst jobs.”
“I meant before you came,” his aunt replied softly. “I never expected my sweet little nephew to act out so much as an adult. What’s gotten you so off track?”
“Nothing.”
“David.”
If Aunt Paula called him David, he knew it was serious, but he also knew what she was doing. She wanted him to open up, talk about his feelings. Explore the roots of his frustrations and all that kind of stupid garbage. David Cook didn’t have feelings though, no rock star did. He was not going to fall for her tricks.
“Look,” he said bitterly, “I know what you’re trying to do. I know Mom probably roped you into this because this just seems like one of her cute, creative ideas, doesn’t it? Well, let me tell you -- you think this is going to work like some kind of rehab or something. That doing the most hated jobs at camp is going to make me suddenly grateful for what I’ve got out in the real world. But in reality it’s just pissing me off even more!”
By the time he’d finished his rant he was nearly shouting. It didn’t matter though because he’d had just about enough. The entire day had been one continuous headache, and now that he’d said it out loud he was even more annoyed about this ridiculous situation. They should’ve sent him on a relaxing vacation or something, not found ways to make him more furious.
“Now, David!” Aunt Paula replied, pulling her hand from his arm. “You’re overreacting--”
But Cook couldn’t listen anymore. Standing up from the log, he turned on his heel and headed straight for the forest land where no one was really supposed to go since trails hadn’t been cut through it yet. Aunt Paula shouted after him, but he ignored her. He didn’t need this treatment, everyone acting like he was a petulant little child. For God’s sake, they’d tricked him into coming instead of being upfront with him. How immature was that?
Just as he passed the treeline, he could hear the faint, curious voice that had been piercing his brain all afternoon.
“Mr. Cook! Where are you going?”
He didn’t turn around.
~*~
It was easier than David thought to grab his lunch and then immediately leave the mess hall. It was always crowded enough at the beginning of the hour what with everyone pushing to get in line that no one probably even noticed David’s escape. That didn’t keep him from sort of jogging all the way to the Jonas brothers’ cabin, however. He was certain none of them were supposed to take lunch out of the dining hall.
It didn’t dawn on David that he’d be properly meeting Nick’s brothers at lunch. This made him slightly more nervous than he already was, which in turn made him less hungry. How people could eat when meeting new people, David had no idea.
Nick’s oldest brother (Kevin, he learned) met him at the door and ushered him into the cabin. David paused in the doorway for a minute to look around because it was bigger than the one he’d been assigned to and had a large table in the middle, also unlike his. He didn’t know the cabins were actually different, so it suddenly made more sense why anyone would fight for them at registration. Joe (Nick’s other brother) had to remind him to sit down before his food got cold.
It turned out that Kevin and Joe were about the nicest people on earth, and David felt silly for being so anxious about meeting them. Maybe they were actually popular for a good reason, instead of all the bad reasons people seemed to be popular at school. There were a few tense moments, however, where it became abundantly clear that the Jonas family wasn’t exactly poor and that maybe the boys took advantage of that from time to time. David kept his mouth shut though because he didn’t want to be rude. He could see that on the surface, from a distance, maybe people would think they were snobby or self-important. Maybe they even were a tiny little bit. It was funny though how if you got the chance to sit down with people like that in private, they could be really different than how they act on the outside.
David made it back just in time to join his composition class at 1:30. Usually he would’ve been a little bit early, seeing as he preferred to be at the front of class all the time, but having completely lost track of time he had to slide in at the back. Having to do this reminded him why he liked to be at the front -- it was harder to see and everyone in front of him became a potential distraction. Luckily, after a few minutes of lecture from their instructor, the class was set free to work on a group composition activity. David quickly scanned the room to find Carly, who he saw stand up from the front row and swirl around with searching eyes. He waved at her and she came to meet him at the back of the class.
“David, where were you at lunch?” she asked immediately upon getting within earshot. Everyone was shuffling around them, bumping their elbows this way and that in search of group partners.
“Oh, sorry,” David apologized, trying to take an instruction sheet from someone who was passing them around. “I got invited to lunch with the Jonas brothers.”
Carly’s eyes went wide and her jaw went slack.
“What?” she asked, shaking her head so that her large hoop earrings swayed from side to side.
“Nick asked me to have lunch with them this morning…”
“David!” Carly cried, her eyebrows knitted tightly. “How could you do such a thing?”
David’s heart sank as he realized Carly was perhaps a little upset with him.
“I just… you know, I’m trying to make friends here,” David explained honestly.
“Didn’t I tell you not to make friends with him though?” Carly asked bitterly.
Hearing the hint of venom in her voice made David take a step back, feeling confused and under attack.
“Well, not exactly,” he replied, slightly shaken. “I mean, you’ve never actually said why--”
“Hey, do you guys need a third member?” someone suddenly asked from David’s left. “Everyone else pretty much has a group, I guess.”
Carly stared at the newcomer as if he’d just walked into her private home instead of approaching her in the middle of class.
“Yeah, of course,” David answered automatically, actually glad for the intrusion. He’d had such a nice time with the Jonases and now Carly was quickly ruining it with her bad attitude. “Come on, let’s sit over here.”
The three sat at an empty table near the back, all the while Carly staring at David with laser-hot eyes.
“I’m Zac,” the new guy introduced himself as they sat down. He flashed an electric smile, but even that wasn’t going to cheer Carly up in the least.
“Nice to meet you, Zac,” she said shortly. “You wanna read the instructions for us while I have a word with my friend here?”
Zac seemed surprised, but agreed.
“David,” Carly hissed at him as she pulled him slightly away. “I thought you’d get the hint that Nick is bad news.”
This really annoyed David, and it saddened him to think his otherwise pleasant friend could act this way.
“I got the hint,” David bravely replied, “that you think he’s bad news. He’s always been very nice to me and I enjoyed having lunch with him and his brothers. Really, you’ve never given me a real reason not to talk to them. They’re nice.”
Carly looked like she’d been slapped in the face. As much as David hated that, he still knew better than to just accept other people’s opinions without good cause. Unless Carly was going to do some explaining, he’d just have to risk her being angry with him.
“Are you guys talking about Nick Jonas?” Zac piped up from across the table. Carly’s stare could’ve killed a man. “He’s ridiculously cute, don’t you think?”
“Do you mind?” Carly snapped at him.
“Maybe we should focus on our assignment?” David suggested, feeling both annoyed and sad. This conversation didn’t need to go any further at the moment, especially in front of a stranger.
Focus on their assignment they did, though Carly didn’t say another word to David for the remainder of the class. At 3:00 when their instructor had them stop and turn in what they’d finished so far, Carly picked up her things and headed straight out the door without giving a second look to her group mates. While on the one hand David couldn’t believe how ridiculously she was acting, on the other he hated that he’d kind of had a fight with her. Fighting with people really wasn’t a thing that he did, and his heart hurt the whole time he was packing up his stuff to leave.
“Hey,” Zac said, interrupting David’s busy thoughts. “You wanna hang out until dinner? I’m kind of new and haven’t really met many people yet, so I was hoping…”
Zac had these brilliantly blue eyes that almost made a person forget what he was saying and very nearly hypnotised David into automatically saying yes. But at the same time, he didn’t feel like talking to anyone for awhile. The more he thought about Carly, the more upset he got. There was really only one thing that helped him in times like this.
“Sorry, Zac,” David sighed, feeling awful. “I’ve… I kind of need to go do something else. But hey, look for me at dinner and we’ll sit together, yeah?”
This seemed okay with Zac, so at least David hadn’t made two people angry with him in one day.
After everyone had left, David slowly made his way back to his cabin where he quickly dropped off his things. A cool breeze had picked up outside, so before leaving again he grabbed a light sweater and his scarf, something his mom had fussed at him about when he’d been packing, arguing that it could be cold at night. Turned out she was right as usual, of course.
While everyone else headed for the gymnasium and lakeside to spend their afternoon free time, David headed in the opposite direction towards the thick forest. Nothing cleared his mind quite like a walk alone in the woods.
Part two