Fic
“I just, I can’t believe it was you the whole time! You were right under my nose,” Shane was saying as they stood on the dock, preparing for their moonlit canoe ride.
Mitchie then stepped toward him until their toes were only an inch apart and she had to look up to see his face, “Literally,” she quipped.
He laughed and took her chin in his hand, gently pulling her face to his until their lips touched. The kiss was innocent and short, but managed to express all the feelings both had bottled up all summer.
They pulled apart, and he helped her into the canoe. He soon followed her, pushing away from the dock once he was seated. They both started rowing at that point, only to find their skills had not improved much since their last excursion.
Once they were a bit further out, Shane was watching the way the moonlight danced across Mitchie’s face, memorizing her features when she asked, “What are you thinking about?”
“I was just thinking that I wish we could just start over, you know? Just you and me.”
Mitchie’s lips started moving, as if she was responding, but no words came from her mouth. In fact, at that moment the sounds of everything else around him was amplified so much that it became a roar of white noise. He covered his ears and watched in horror as Mitchie, the canoe, the lake, everything melted away before his eyes and only white blinding light was left, as if reality itself was being torn apart.
At some point he must have closed his eyes because he noticed that the white noise had been replaced with the gentle sound of an idling engine. Blinding light no longer bombarded his closed eyelids. He opened his eyes to find himself in a familiar limo, being stared at by the other two thirds of Connect 3.
He blinked, reevaluating his surroundings, “…What?” His gaze finally landed on the expectant ones of his bandmates.
“Dude, did you hear a single thing I just said?” Nate was staring at him incredulously.
“Guys?” Shane was beyond confused. “What just happened?”
Jason cocked his head to the side, “I think he hit his head.”
Nate sighed. “He’s trying to find some way to get out of it. And there aren’t any, Shane. You’re not getting out of this, man.”
Shane closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. Whatever just happened had left him with a massive headache. “Out of what?”
“Okay, man. I don’t know what’s going on with you, and I really don’t care. I’m saying this one more time, and if I have to say it again, I’m just gonna toss you out of the limo. I swear.” Nate paused. “You’re spending the summer at Camp Rock to get over yourself. You’ll be a celebrity instructor or something. I don’t know. You can work that out with your Uncle Brown. Look man, right now you’re the bad boy to the press. And the label has a problem with that. Which means, we have a problem with that.” Nate was using his businessman voice.
Jason chimed in, “Actually, I don’t really have a problem with that,” Nate gave him a look. “We have a problem with that,” Jason amended.
Nate continued, “This camp thing is supposed to fix that. It’s good PR. So do your time. Enjoy the fresh air. Get a tan.” Nate smirked.
“Oh, and can you make me a birdhouse or something?” Jason asked hopefully.
Nate thumped his head against his headrest in frustration. Shane began unbuckling his seatbelt and collecting his things. He opened the door and stepped out. Nate immediately moved into Shane’s recently vacated seat, closing the door. He poked his head out the open window, “Man, what’s up with you?”
“Déjà-vu. Next thing I know, you’re gonna tell me I have to record a duet with the winner of Final Jam.”
Nate didn’t say anything. Shane heard Jason call out from the inside of the limo before it pulled away, “You do!”
Is this seriously happening? Shane thought to himself as he made his way to his Uncle Brown’s cabin. What happened? Is this a dream? Did I go back in time? Shane chuckled at this. No, that’s ridiculous. But how else can I explain what happened at the lake? I mean, I wasn’t asleep then. My own subconscious couldn’t have come up with everything that happened at Final Jam. Or that…whatever that was at the lake. So I was either sleeping then, or I am now. I definitely wasn’t then; my dreams were never that intense. And I’m pretty sure I’m not now; my dreams were never this vibrant. I can smell the trees, and the lake. Feel the ground crunch under my feet. I never notice stuff like that in my dreams. But just to be sure… He pinched himself. Yep, not dreaming.
By that point, Shane had arrived at his uncle’s cabin. Brown must have seen him coming, because Shane had barely started climbing the steps when the door swung open. “Shane! What’s the haps, man?” His uncle smiled brightly at him holding his arms out for a hug.
“Hey, what’s up?” Shane decided to oblige his uncle, and embraced him whole heartedly before finding his own bed.
As soon as he did, he leaned his guitar against the wall and slumped back across the foot of the bed and thought. So it doesn’t matter whether I dreamed this or…went back in time. Either way I’ve got to go through with it until some other option presents itself. And until then… My number one priority is Mitchie. Where would Mitchie be? He checked his watch. Okay, she plays her song and I just miss her in the mess hall in about two and a half hours. …That sounds completely insane. But then again, so does every aspect of my current situation. He rolled his eyes. I don’t want to attempt and fail to get the timing right, this time. I have no idea what the exact time it was when this happened last time. I’ll beat her there. Shane immediately got up and began to unpack, determined to blow off as much time as he could before he went to wait for Mitchie.
Two hours later, Shane realized he was too antsy to waste time in his cabin anymore and headed out to the mess hall, taking special care to avoid any well travelled routes on his way. Upon entering the deserted mess hall, he made his way to the far wall, past the piano, letting his fingers brush the fine ivory Mitchie would soon be playing as he passed. He stood at the screen window, staring out across the lake and was soon lost in his thoughts. So lost, in fact he didn’t hear the door to the kitchen open. Nor did he see the girl who came in, carrying two plates and two bowls. She set them on one of the tables before eyeing the piano. He was so quiet and concealed in the far corner of her peripheral vision, she didn’t see him either. It wasn’t until she had sat down, taken out her song book and begun to play that Shane was knocked out of his reverie.
“Do you know what it's like… to feel so in the dark? To dream about a life… where you're the shining star? Even though it seems... Like it's too far away. I have to believe in myself, It's the only way.”
Shane stepped forward and joined in, “This is real, this is me.” Mitchie immediately stopped singing and playing, her fingers fumbling in her shock. But Shane didn’t miss a beat. “I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, now. Gonna let the light… Shine on me. Now I found… Who I am. There's no way to hold it in. No more hiding who I want to be. This is me.”
Shane stared at her expectantly. Maybe she’s not in on this crazy joke the world seems to be playing on me, either. “You’re… You’re Shane Gray.” He sighed. It was worth a shot. “How do you know my song?” If only I knew.
“That’s a long story that even I can’t fully explain. I think, though… I think my wish came true, as insane as that sounds.”
“What wish?” She cocked her head in genuine interest.
He strategically avoided answering that question, “Do you want to go on a canoe ride with me?”
“Uhm…” Mitchie was utterly confused.
“You know what? I don’t care. You are going on that canoe ride with me. Come on. We’ll talk to your mom, and then we’ll talk to Brown.” Shane grabbed the song book before taking her hand. Mitchie was utterly speechless as she was dragged back into the kitchen.
In the kitchen Connie Torres stared in shock as her daughter was dragged in by Shane Gray. The Shane Gray.
“Ms. Torres,” Shane said, “I’m taking your daughter out to the lake. Canoe ride. Just giving you a heads up.” He didn’t wait for a reply. He just took Mitchie’s hand and they left the kitchen just as they’d come in.
Mitchie was blindly following Shane Gray - Shane. Gray. She still hadn’t gotten over that. - halfway across the camp when he suddenly stopped. “Screw this.” He whipped out a cell phone - from god only knows where, considering he wasn’t wearing a jacket with pockets and those pants were beyond skin-tight. - and hastily dialed a number, tapping his foot impatiently as it rung. She heard a garbled, yet distinctly British response on the third ring. “Hey, Uncle Brown. I have a date. We’ll be on the lake if you need me. Please, please don’t need me for at least three hours.” He didn’t wait for a reply and simply shut the phone. He turned to her, “Come on,” before leading her in a completely different direction. After a couple moments, without breaking his stride, he turned back to look at her, “Why aren’t you talking? I mean, I know this whole situation must freak you out, but you can talk, you know? I can guarantee that there is almost nothing you can say that’ll scare me off.”
“I’ve, um. I’ve always wanted to know something.”
“Shoot.”
“Those are women’s jeans, right?”
He actually laughed at this, “Don’t tell anyone. But… They’re from the Juniors section at Macy’s.”
“And how many do you have?”
“A couple pairs.”
She seemed skeptical, “I’m gonna ask you that again, and I want a real answer this time. How many do you have?”
The smile he was sporting grew enormously, “See? Now that’s the Mitchie I know and love.”
“You promise to explain all of this to me?”
“Yeah. Soon. When we're out in the canoe. You see, this is gonna sound crazy. And I think you’re gonna think its crazy, too. But I’m only telling you. So I can’t really risk anyone else hearing it. …Plus, canoes are kinda our thing.”
“Okay.” She paused, “You never answered my question.”
He sighed, “Twelve.”
“Uhm, you’re disgusting.” Shane turned around, slightly appalled, to see her grinning brightly at him.
Mitchie then stepped toward him until their toes were only an inch apart and she had to look up to see his face, “Literally,” she quipped.
He laughed and took her chin in his hand, gently pulling her face to his until their lips touched. The kiss was innocent and short, but managed to express all the feelings both had bottled up all summer.
They pulled apart, and he helped her into the canoe. He soon followed her, pushing away from the dock once he was seated. They both started rowing at that point, only to find their skills had not improved much since their last excursion.
Once they were a bit further out, Shane was watching the way the moonlight danced across Mitchie’s face, memorizing her features when she asked, “What are you thinking about?”
“I was just thinking that I wish we could just start over, you know? Just you and me.”
Mitchie’s lips started moving, as if she was responding, but no words came from her mouth. In fact, at that moment the sounds of everything else around him was amplified so much that it became a roar of white noise. He covered his ears and watched in horror as Mitchie, the canoe, the lake, everything melted away before his eyes and only white blinding light was left, as if reality itself was being torn apart.
At some point he must have closed his eyes because he noticed that the white noise had been replaced with the gentle sound of an idling engine. Blinding light no longer bombarded his closed eyelids. He opened his eyes to find himself in a familiar limo, being stared at by the other two thirds of Connect 3.
He blinked, reevaluating his surroundings, “…What?” His gaze finally landed on the expectant ones of his bandmates.
“Dude, did you hear a single thing I just said?” Nate was staring at him incredulously.
“Guys?” Shane was beyond confused. “What just happened?”
Jason cocked his head to the side, “I think he hit his head.”
Nate sighed. “He’s trying to find some way to get out of it. And there aren’t any, Shane. You’re not getting out of this, man.”
Shane closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. Whatever just happened had left him with a massive headache. “Out of what?”
“Okay, man. I don’t know what’s going on with you, and I really don’t care. I’m saying this one more time, and if I have to say it again, I’m just gonna toss you out of the limo. I swear.” Nate paused. “You’re spending the summer at Camp Rock to get over yourself. You’ll be a celebrity instructor or something. I don’t know. You can work that out with your Uncle Brown. Look man, right now you’re the bad boy to the press. And the label has a problem with that. Which means, we have a problem with that.” Nate was using his businessman voice.
Jason chimed in, “Actually, I don’t really have a problem with that,” Nate gave him a look. “We have a problem with that,” Jason amended.
Nate continued, “This camp thing is supposed to fix that. It’s good PR. So do your time. Enjoy the fresh air. Get a tan.” Nate smirked.
“Oh, and can you make me a birdhouse or something?” Jason asked hopefully.
Nate thumped his head against his headrest in frustration. Shane began unbuckling his seatbelt and collecting his things. He opened the door and stepped out. Nate immediately moved into Shane’s recently vacated seat, closing the door. He poked his head out the open window, “Man, what’s up with you?”
“Déjà-vu. Next thing I know, you’re gonna tell me I have to record a duet with the winner of Final Jam.”
Nate didn’t say anything. Shane heard Jason call out from the inside of the limo before it pulled away, “You do!”
Is this seriously happening? Shane thought to himself as he made his way to his Uncle Brown’s cabin. What happened? Is this a dream? Did I go back in time? Shane chuckled at this. No, that’s ridiculous. But how else can I explain what happened at the lake? I mean, I wasn’t asleep then. My own subconscious couldn’t have come up with everything that happened at Final Jam. Or that…whatever that was at the lake. So I was either sleeping then, or I am now. I definitely wasn’t then; my dreams were never that intense. And I’m pretty sure I’m not now; my dreams were never this vibrant. I can smell the trees, and the lake. Feel the ground crunch under my feet. I never notice stuff like that in my dreams. But just to be sure… He pinched himself. Yep, not dreaming.
By that point, Shane had arrived at his uncle’s cabin. Brown must have seen him coming, because Shane had barely started climbing the steps when the door swung open. “Shane! What’s the haps, man?” His uncle smiled brightly at him holding his arms out for a hug.
“Hey, what’s up?” Shane decided to oblige his uncle, and embraced him whole heartedly before finding his own bed.
As soon as he did, he leaned his guitar against the wall and slumped back across the foot of the bed and thought. So it doesn’t matter whether I dreamed this or…went back in time. Either way I’ve got to go through with it until some other option presents itself. And until then… My number one priority is Mitchie. Where would Mitchie be? He checked his watch. Okay, she plays her song and I just miss her in the mess hall in about two and a half hours. …That sounds completely insane. But then again, so does every aspect of my current situation. He rolled his eyes. I don’t want to attempt and fail to get the timing right, this time. I have no idea what the exact time it was when this happened last time. I’ll beat her there. Shane immediately got up and began to unpack, determined to blow off as much time as he could before he went to wait for Mitchie.
Two hours later, Shane realized he was too antsy to waste time in his cabin anymore and headed out to the mess hall, taking special care to avoid any well travelled routes on his way. Upon entering the deserted mess hall, he made his way to the far wall, past the piano, letting his fingers brush the fine ivory Mitchie would soon be playing as he passed. He stood at the screen window, staring out across the lake and was soon lost in his thoughts. So lost, in fact he didn’t hear the door to the kitchen open. Nor did he see the girl who came in, carrying two plates and two bowls. She set them on one of the tables before eyeing the piano. He was so quiet and concealed in the far corner of her peripheral vision, she didn’t see him either. It wasn’t until she had sat down, taken out her song book and begun to play that Shane was knocked out of his reverie.
“Do you know what it's like… to feel so in the dark? To dream about a life… where you're the shining star? Even though it seems... Like it's too far away. I have to believe in myself, It's the only way.”
Shane stepped forward and joined in, “This is real, this is me.” Mitchie immediately stopped singing and playing, her fingers fumbling in her shock. But Shane didn’t miss a beat. “I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, now. Gonna let the light… Shine on me. Now I found… Who I am. There's no way to hold it in. No more hiding who I want to be. This is me.”
Shane stared at her expectantly. Maybe she’s not in on this crazy joke the world seems to be playing on me, either. “You’re… You’re Shane Gray.” He sighed. It was worth a shot. “How do you know my song?” If only I knew.
“That’s a long story that even I can’t fully explain. I think, though… I think my wish came true, as insane as that sounds.”
“What wish?” She cocked her head in genuine interest.
He strategically avoided answering that question, “Do you want to go on a canoe ride with me?”
“Uhm…” Mitchie was utterly confused.
“You know what? I don’t care. You are going on that canoe ride with me. Come on. We’ll talk to your mom, and then we’ll talk to Brown.” Shane grabbed the song book before taking her hand. Mitchie was utterly speechless as she was dragged back into the kitchen.
In the kitchen Connie Torres stared in shock as her daughter was dragged in by Shane Gray. The Shane Gray.
“Ms. Torres,” Shane said, “I’m taking your daughter out to the lake. Canoe ride. Just giving you a heads up.” He didn’t wait for a reply. He just took Mitchie’s hand and they left the kitchen just as they’d come in.
Mitchie was blindly following Shane Gray - Shane. Gray. She still hadn’t gotten over that. - halfway across the camp when he suddenly stopped. “Screw this.” He whipped out a cell phone - from god only knows where, considering he wasn’t wearing a jacket with pockets and those pants were beyond skin-tight. - and hastily dialed a number, tapping his foot impatiently as it rung. She heard a garbled, yet distinctly British response on the third ring. “Hey, Uncle Brown. I have a date. We’ll be on the lake if you need me. Please, please don’t need me for at least three hours.” He didn’t wait for a reply and simply shut the phone. He turned to her, “Come on,” before leading her in a completely different direction. After a couple moments, without breaking his stride, he turned back to look at her, “Why aren’t you talking? I mean, I know this whole situation must freak you out, but you can talk, you know? I can guarantee that there is almost nothing you can say that’ll scare me off.”
“I’ve, um. I’ve always wanted to know something.”
“Shoot.”
“Those are women’s jeans, right?”
He actually laughed at this, “Don’t tell anyone. But… They’re from the Juniors section at Macy’s.”
“And how many do you have?”
“A couple pairs.”
She seemed skeptical, “I’m gonna ask you that again, and I want a real answer this time. How many do you have?”
The smile he was sporting grew enormously, “See? Now that’s the Mitchie I know and love.”
“You promise to explain all of this to me?”
“Yeah. Soon. When we're out in the canoe. You see, this is gonna sound crazy. And I think you’re gonna think its crazy, too. But I’m only telling you. So I can’t really risk anyone else hearing it. …Plus, canoes are kinda our thing.”
“Okay.” She paused, “You never answered my question.”
He sighed, “Twelve.”
“Uhm, you’re disgusting.” Shane turned around, slightly appalled, to see her grinning brightly at him.