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04 February 2009 @ 11:37 am
[Fic] Soundtrack Of My Summer  


Title: Soundtrack Of My Summer
Author: Lucilla/FeelTheSilence (ninthrevolver)
Genre: Romance/General
Pairing: Shane Gray & Mitchie Torres (Smitchie)
Rating: T (PG-13)
Status: On going
Summary:AU. He was Shane Gray. Famous rock star and worldwide sensation, he didn’t belong in the suburbs with the cozy people and apple pies. But he needed a reality check and a change of heart and that's what he got when he met a small town girl with big dreams.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Camp Rock (Disney does) and I’m not making any profit out of this, so don’t sue.

5.
MORNING CONVERSATIONS


Shane woke up that Sunday morning with the noise of his cell phone buzzing right beside his pillow. He didn’t open his eyes as his hand reached for the phone and flipped it open to answer the call, without bothering to look at the caller ID.

“What?” His sleepy voice came out muffed against the pillow. Surprisingly, he didn’t sound angry for being awaken, but that was just because he was too sleepy to feel anything else.

“Hey, Shane. Sorry, did I wake you?”

His sleepiness faded way when he recognized one of his band member’s voice on the other side of the line. “Nate! What the hell?” And Shane’s cranky morning humor made its appearance. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine I guess.” Nate answered. “How are you doing?”

“Where are you?” Shane ignored the younger’s question and made one himself.

Nate sighed, but answered it anyway. “At some hotel in Atlanta. Jason and I had to stay the night to wait for our flights.” There was a pause during which Nate seemed to be chatting with someone else. “Hey, wait up, Jase wants to talk to you.”

There were more muffed sounds of conversations. Shane sat on the bed, running a hand through his hair. The singer crinkled his nose at the feeling of the curly hair between his fingers. He had washed it the night before, after Mitchie was gone, but when he opened his luggage, searching for the hair straightener, he found out that it was missing. It made him go insane. He could swear that he had packet the damn thing!

“Hey Shane! We’re missing you! Are you missing us too?” Jason’s cheerful voice suddenly popped up from the line, snapping Shane out of his thoughts.

He sighed. “Right now, I’m just missing my hair straightener, Jase. Did you see me taking it out of my bag before we left L.A.? I’m pretty sure that I packed it alongside with the blow drier and-” Jason’s chuckles cut his speech.

“Man, he found out about his hair thingy.” Shane heard Jason say to someone else on the other side of the line. Then he could distinctly hear Nate chuckling as well and asking Jason for the phone.

Shane gaped. No, they couldn’t have done that, could they?

“Hey, Shane?” It was Nate’s voice. He sounded pretty amused. “Yeah, we snuck your hair straightener out of your bag when you were not seeing.” He admitted.

“You what?” Shane yelled, in a mixture of annoyance and incredulity. “Oh, wonderful. How the hell am I supposed to get out of the house now?”

Shane hated his stupid curly hair. He had hated it ever since he was a kid and thanked God for whoever that had invented hair straighteners. The singer couldn’t believe that Nate and Jason had done such a thing to him. But then again, Nate and Jason were also the ones behind the scheme that dragged him out of L.A. and straight to Georgia.

“Well, we think it’s time for you to embrace the natural look. I did it; Jason decided to do it too. It could be a cool thing to change the band’s image like that. We should all admit that we are a group of three curly-haired musicians instead of one who is curly-haired and proud of it and two who pretend they have straight hair. ” Nate explained in a much business-like attitude.

Shane thought his band members had officially gone nuts.

“Come again?” He asked, perplexed.

Nate just chuckled. There was noise on the background again and Shane noticed that the two guitarists were chatting between them once more. He rolled his eyes, that whole phone call was starting to get on his nerves.

“Oh, Jason wants to talk to you again. Just wait, I’ll put you on speakerphone.”

Oh, good, finally someone had a good idea, the singer thought.

“Hey Shane, it’s Jason again.” The older boy said, as if he thought that Shane was incapable of recognizing his voice. “Have you started building my birdhouse yet?” He eagerly asked.

Shane frowned. Birdhouse? “What birdhouse?” He voiced his confusion.

The guitarist sighed dramatically. “The one I asked you to build when we were in the van! I can’t believe you forgot it!” And then he whined, much like a little kid.

Shane rolled his eyes again. “Jason, why the hell do you need another birdhouse?”

“Because I want to see more birds, duh.” He answered as if he was explaining something obvious for a five-year-old kid. “Promise me you won’t forget my birdhouse again!”

“Well, no. You helped Nate to get rid of my hair straightener, so no birdhouse for you.” Shane heard Jason making fake crying noises after his response. He had to suppress his laugh, Jase was being hilarious.

It was strange for Shane to notice that he wasn’t mad at his band members anymore. On the day before he thought that he would be nothing but majorly pissed off in the next time he spoke to Jason and Nate, especially after the two spent the whole Saturday ignoring his calls, but he didn’t felt like that now. He was annoyed at their little prank with the hair straightener, but that was it. He wasn’t feeling like murdering the duo, at least not at that precise moment.

“Jason, stop complaining about that birdhouse. I’ll buy you one when I get to Pennsylvania.” Nate put and end to Jason’s little drama with that promise. “And Shane, you didn’t answer my first question yet. How are you, dude?”

The vocalist briefly wondered why Nate was so concerned with his well being. He shrugged. “I’m fine. Why?”

There was a pause and he could sense that his band members were hesitating. Nate was the one to break the silence. “Well, I don’t now if you’re aware but there was this report about you on Hot Tunes yesterday…”

Shane rolled his eyes, he was pretty aware of that. “Yeah, I know. I saw it.”

“And?” Jason pressed him, seeming curious.

“And what?” He shrugged once more. “What’s done is done. I can’t do anything about what they’re saying so just let them say it.”

“Wow.” Nate sounded surprised. “I didn’t see that one coming. Hey, who are you and what have you done with Shane Gray?”

“Ha, ha.” Shane faked a sarcastic laugh. “Not funny guys.”

“You have to admit it was kinda funny.” Said Jason.

“No, it wasn’t.” The singer stubbornly disagreed. “Listen, I’ve gotta go. Need to go get some breakfast before Danny eats everything in sight.” That was a pretty lame excuse since he didn’t even know if Danny was up yet, but Shane was feeling that Nate and Jason were just a small step from starting to try to make fun of him and he didn’t want that.

“Yeah, we’ve gotta go too. We still need to check out before heading to the airport.” Nate answered, being the practical guy he was. “It was nice talking to you, Shane.” He added after a moment of silence.
That caught vocalist on surprise. “Uh, yeah. Does it mean you guys will stop ignoring my calls or something?”

Nate and Jason laughed a bit.

“Yeah, maybe.” The younger conceded.

“We’ll miss you Shane! I promise I’ll make Ella help me texting you when I get home!” That was Jason, obviously. Shane just failed to comprehend how Jason’s childhood girlfriend could be of any help in teaching the guitarist to use his cell phone features, since Ella was just as much of an air-head as Jason.

“Tell Brown and Danny we said ‘hi’. And take care, man.” Said Nate.

Shane smiled a bit and then hung up the phone without saying anything.

That had been different, just chatting with his band members like that. He didn’t talk much to Nate and Jason nowadays – or to anyone. He had kind of lost his faith in his band members a while ago, when he noticed that the two of them cared more about keeping the successful pop band image than staying true to themselves and their music, since in the last couple of years the only songs the label would let them record was the type of cookie-cutter pop stuff that the executives thought would sell well among teens. Shane’s feelings of frustration and betrayal towards the label and their manager weren’t welcome among the other two members of Connect Three. Ironically, considering the band’s name, the three of them couldn’t be more disconnected.

He placed the cell phone on top of the mattress and then got up, yawning and flexing his muscles. The single bed Brown gave him was a lot different than the king size bed he had at his suite in his mansion in L.A., but it wasn’t exactly bad. He still had a stiff neck though.

The singer was wearing just his boxer shorts so he went to his bag to grab his clothes for the day. He chose a pair of dark gray skinny jeans and a white T-shirt to go with the black Converses he was wearing the day before. He would stay without his leather jacket today. After a stop in the bathroom to brush his teeth and everything, he headed downstairs.

Shane found Brown sitting at the kitchen table, with a mug of black coffee and a catalog of music instruments. His uncle smiled when he took sight of him.

“Hey Shane. Early rising?” Brown asked, sounding pretty cheerful despite the early hour.

Shane grabbed a chair next to Brown and sat by the table as well. “Yeah, you can thank Nate and Jason for that.” He said, rolling his eyes. Then he stared at his uncle’s mug. “We have coffee?”

Brown smirked. “Wrong, pal. I have coffee because I made it. If you want coffee, then move your butt from that chair and make some yourself.”

Shane rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Well, if the coffee was made by you then I don’t think I’d want to drink it anyway. I’m not eager to get poisoned.”

“Ouch, Shane!” Brown placed one hand dramatically over his chest. “You’re hurting your poor uncle’s feelings you know?”

The singer just shook his head. “Whatever.” Then he rose from the chair. “I guess I’ll just go out and buy some breakfast.”

“Right.” Brown nodded. “And may I ask you, where exactly do you plan on buying your super star breakfast?” He was eyeing Shane with a politely expression.

The vocalist found Brown’s interest rather strange.

“In that dinner near the Church. Connie’s Dinner.” He answered.

Brown nodded once more.

“Oh, right. Connie’s Dinner. But you know…” He made a thoughtful expression. “I don’t think that Mitchie is there yet. If I remember correctly, she only does the afternoon shifts.”

Shane noticed that Brown was inspecting his reaction at Mitchie’s name with quite a bit of interest. He annoyingly rolled his eyes at his uncle behavior.

“Why does this have anything to do with Mitchie Torres?” He asked.

Brown shrugged. “Oh, nothing. It’s just that Danny told me this morning that you and Mitchie seemed quite found of each other last night.” Then he sipped a gulp of his coffee, faking a nonchalant attitude.

Well, Shane was a smart young man and he could see right through Brown’s poor tentative of ambushing him. Honestly, what did is uncle took him for? A pathetic teenager with a crush? And where the hell did Brown get the idea that he might be crushing on Mitchie Torres to begin with? He only met the girl twice! He knew her for less than twenty-four hours. His uncle was being delusional.

“I’m just going to buy coffee, uncle Brown. Stop trying to play matchmaker.” He warned.

Brown looked at him like he had absolute no idea of what his nephew was talking about and Shane just shook his head in response. If Brown wanted to play the dumb role then that was fine. Shane turned around to leave without another word, but when he was by the kitchen door he heard Brown calling his name.

“Think fast, Shane.” The man tossed something on his Shane’s direction and the singer caught it by reflex. When he examined the object he saw it was the key of a car. “It’s the keys for my old pick-up truck.” Brown explained to his nephew’s puzzled expression. “You can use it while you’re here, since I have another car. I figured it’d be best if you had a vehicle all for yourself, so you can escape faster if your fans recognize you.” That last part was a joke, of course, but Brown couldn’t resist it.

Shane gaped at his uncle. Brown was giving him a car? He had confiscated his iPod and laptop, but let him have a freaking car?

“Aren’t you afraid that I might use it to get out of this stupid town?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Brown just smirked.

“Well, good luck with that. The old thing can’t make it pass eighty or ninety kilometers per hour. I’m pretty sure that you won’t get too far at that speed before I catch you.” Then he took another sip of coffee with a satisfied expression.

Shane scoffed; Brown had clearly thought it all through. Oh well, it was better than nothing, at least he didn’t need to go around the town on foot.

“Ok, thanks. Can I have my confiscated stuff back now?” He asked, sarcastic.

Brown laughed at Shane’s cocky defiance. “Yeah, don’t count with that pal.”

The singer rolled his eyes and placed the key securely in the back pocket of his jeans before exiting the kitchen. He went back to his room in order to grab the same disguise he wore the day before and his wallet. He stopped in front of the mirror, which was placed next the bedroom’s door, to check his appearance and made a disgusted face at his hair. Well, at least in that way it would be harder for the fans to recognize him.

He left the room, headed downstairs and passed through Danny, who was still in his pajamas, eating a bowl of cereals while watching the morning cartoons. When Shane opened the front door he was greeted by the sight of a big, old, red Chevy pick-up truck. He sighed, thinking about how much he was already missing his black, shiny and brand new Porsche that was left in L.A.

With a somewhat dejected pace he got into the Chevy and turned on the engine. The motor roared loudly and made him jump at his seat. God, that piece of junk sure made some noise. He pressed down the gas pedal and tried to ignore the noise as he drove down the now familiar path to Connie’s Dinner.

It took him a little more than ten minutes to be parking the Chevy in front of the Dinner. Fortunately, for him, those old pick-ups were pretty common at southern small towns, so no one paid much attention to him.

Shane entered the Dinner and his shaded eyes immediately fell upon Mitchie’s petite figure on the other side of the counter. She smiled that big ear-to-ear smile he had seen only once before when she took noticed of his presence. He swore then that he had never seen a girl with such a memorable smile like that. The singer went over to her without even taking notice that his feet were moving, it was almost as if she was luring him to go to her with that smile.

Shane wondered if she smiled that way to every potential client or if she was just really happy just to see him. He hoped it was the last one, because the truth was that he felt slight happier now that he was seeing her.

“Hey.” She greeted him with a sweet, soft tone.

“Hey.” Shane surprised himself with the softness of his own voice but didn’t give much thought to that. Truth to be told, he wasn’t paying much attention to anything but the girl right in front of him. “You know, you forgot something at the house yesterday.” He said with a playful hint.

“I did?” Mitchie seemed genuinely surprised with her wide eyes. “What?”

The singer just smirked. “Your autograph.” He explained. “I figured you forgot to ask for it so I came here to fix that.”

Mitchie gaped at him for a second and then started to laugh. Shane decided he liked the sound of her laugher. It was genuine, nothing like those girls from Hollywood who laughed at things that he said when he wasn’t even trying to be funny.

“Gee. Thanks, I guess.” She answered with the tiniest bit of sarcasm to let Shane know she meant that as a joke.

He chucked, getting the irony. “You’re welcome. Got a pen?”

She nodded, playing along, and handed him the pen she used to write down the orders she got from clients. Shane grabbed a napkin that was lost on top of the counter to sign it.

Mitchie was so busy watching him that she didn’t even noticed Caitlyn coming to stand beside her with two trays of food that Mitchie have been waiting to take to the tables before Shane appeared and pretty much banished everything else from her mind.

Caitlyn stared strangely at her friend’s silly happy smile and then at the guy wearing a hat and sunglasses, who was writing something on a napkin. The teen felt pretty much invisible at the moment since no one took notice of her. She placed her hands on her hips and gazed at Mitchie with an annoyed look and then back at the guy. It was then that Caitlyn saw what he was writing.

It was some sort of dedicatory to which she didn’t pay much attention since she was more concerned with the name he was signing in the end of it. It read with a messy, but charming, calligraphy a name that she had already seen printed in magazines for countless times.

Shane Gray.

________________________

Author's Note:Ok guys, my summer vacations (hey, it’s summer here where I live) are officially over and I’m going back to my job and college this week, so from now on updates will take a little longer.
Hugs,
- Lucilla.
 
 
Current Mood: tiredtired
Current Music: Taylor Swift - Fearless
 
 
 
Stina ♪: demi; i know how it feelsstinabug87 on February 4th, 2009 07:46 pm (UTC)
I'm glad you're happy. I like getting compliments on my fics so I figure other people do too. :D ♥