Unanswered questions, uprising tensions unsolved, the thoughts of another disclosed from the world, crucial information that was left untouched!

I know, I know. I've taken FOREVER on uploading this even after I've been promising that it would be up. Writers block really does kill, you know. I've decided that I shouldn't give up on this and posted it now! We meet again for Rockstar, version 2.0. I have decided that it is exceedingly important that you, as my reader, understand Eli's side of the story before we continue on to Rockstar's sequel. If you're thinking, "Wow, really? You're writing Rockstar all over again? We already know what's going to happen, so why can't you just give us the sequel?" Well, let me assure you, Eli's point of view is COMPLETELY different from Clare's, and therefore will stray from the original concept of Rockstar. Clare was not close to the drama, she was the target. Eli, on the other hand, was the drama. Getting into his head is going to be a lot of fun after reading Rockstar, so I know you will enjoy this just as much as you did in Clare's point of view.

Also, I am happy to say that I now have a beta-reader, AvivaAria. Although her work is not widely known in the Degrassi category, she is a very good writer and I highly recommend her writing. Please do not harrass her with questions or spoilers about new chapters. She's sworn to secrecy. She did not edit this prelude becaue I leave tomorrow for New York and I wanted to post this up.

Rating will change to M later on in the story!

Also, if you are new to my writing, I recommend that you read Rockstar first, but it is not necessary to understand this. This stands as a story all on its own, but it is a branch from the original. Without further acknowledgments, I give you the prelude to Proximity.

Disclaimer: I own a life, not Degrassi.

ELI'S POINT OF VIEW

Prelude.

I am going to die.

Running.

Panting.

Thumping, thumping.

Pushing.

Pulling.

Sweat falling, muscles clenching.

Gasping.

Panicking.

I was going to die in a matter of seconds if I didn't get my legs to push faster against the wet pavement.

It was half past ten on a Tuesday night a few years ago in my hometown Ontario, Canada, that it became clear to me that my career as a professional rock star had begun.

A few weeks before that night, I was just as regular as a "punk-goth kid" in high school could get. I had my unnamed band, my hearse, and my fohawk mousse; that's really all I needed. Then on one fateful day during band practice in my garage, my dad decided to bring home his radio guest star for dinner, who just so happened to be one of the representatives of the top major label company, ENF. Basically, if it weren't for the fact that he thought our music was interesting, I would've been subjected to a lot of sucking up out of courtesy. It's funny how he ended up having to suck up to us so that we could give him a free show. The next day when Adam, Drew, Fitz and I were jamming out again, more ENF people showed up at my doorstep.

It was pretty nerve-racking for all of us when the head of ENF wanted to hear us play. But we played, hard and loud.

We tried hard to swallow our stutters when they asked us intricate questions about each of our goals, music theories, and compositions. So we answered, originally and honestly.

When they were gone, they left behind a possibility of making a career out of our music. It was insane; I never thought we were good enough to actually go out of the garage phase yet but apparently they saw some raw potential in us that I didn't. As the one who brought the band together, it was my job to make sure that we didn't get our hopes up and that we kept level-headed. It was a big decision, throwing away every opportunity of a practical job and going into the music industry. Then we realized that...none of us were practical and there was no doubt in our minds that we wanted it.

A few days later, Jordan James Moore, also known as JJ, called and begged for us to sign our unnamed band with their company.

"Bring it on," were my smug words.

The weekend before that fateful Tuesday night, JJ came by with our contract and we became official rock stars. I couldn't believe it myself, it was unreal. JJ sat down with all of our parents and discussed what had to be done to launch our careers at such a young age. We would have to drop public high school and take our lessons with private tutors, we would need to invest in our band and the image that we were to create, we would need a "coming out" song, we would need a new look, we would need a name. I had until that week to think of a name, because after that we were going to record a song and begin the rest of our lives.

So on that Tuesday night, I decided to take a walk to clear my head. I was in my black pajama pants, a grey fitted hoodie with the hood up, blood red sneakers, and my long hair down and mousse-free. Just an innocent walk that I usually took on sleepless nights, but I should have known. Too many things were going right, something was bound to happen. And what, dare say, happened?

I'll tell you what. They happened.

I don't know how long I had been running, but I was running like my life depended on it. Running, panting, feeling the sweat run down my temples as the foot steps grew louder behind me.

I turned sharply into a narrow alley way and slammed back against the wet brick wall, catching my breath and desperatley trying to search for a way to out-run them. I shuddered and held my breath, listening to their high pitched squeals and frustrated moaning. I leaned my head back against the wall and percked my ears up to the sounds of retreating cries and yells, knowing that I distracted them. For now.

"Look, there he is!" a girl exclaimed, her voice too close for comfort.

My eyes widened as I turned my head and saw the growing mob of girls run in my direction. Despite my aching muscles and my frantic heart beat, I sprinted to the other side of the alley way where the streets were wide and open. No where to hide. The screams grew louder, and I focused my eyes quickly on the street signs, but I was in too much of a rush to see anything anymore. The hairs in the back of my neck began to stick up and goose-bumps covered my arms as I frantically ran to my right, trying so hard to disappear. That's when I recognized Adam's street, and instantly felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel. I could hide out there for a while.

They were closing in on me. I could smell their musky perfume floating in the air.

Just when I thought I was in the clear, I was ambushed. I froze. They came out of no where, their darkened eyes wild and passionate as they screamed and lunged at me. I yelled and grunted as I felt small hands touch and grab at everything and anything in their way.

"What the hell is wrong with you girls? Get off of me!" I yelled in protest, tripping and falling to the floor with all the different forces acting on me.

"We've seen you and your band! We saw record producers come to your house! Are you famous or something?" one exclaimed.

"Yeah, are you some kind of upcoming rock star? We wanna be the first to know!" another begged.

"AHH! You're so freaking cute, can I keep your bracelet? It'll be worth so much when you become, like, famous and stuff!"

"MARRY ME!"

"NO, he's mine!"

"I WANT HIS SHOE!"

"UGH, MOVE!"

I shut my eyes tight and tried to fight them off, but it was too much. For petite looking girls, their actions were anything but small and weak. They pulled, they shoved, accidently kicked and scratched until I couldn't even fell my own skin. It was too much, I felt like I was suffocating and choking at the same time. It was too much, too much. After a few minutes, a really big guy intercepted the mob and got them to go away. He touched my shoulder, trying to help me get up but I cringed away from it and shook uncontrollably. He sat down on the side walk with me and offered to call an ambulence, but I didn't want anymore attention.

We stayed there for thirty minutes, silent and unmoving, until I finally willed myself to sit up and take a deep breath. I looked up and couldn't believe the serenity in the man's eyes.

"How did you get them all to leave?" I had asked, my voice shaking slightly.

"What can I say? I'm a scary guy. You're gonna be alright, kid," he grinned a toothy gin. "So why were they after you?"

I smirked weakly and took a deep breath. "What's your name?"

"Gabe, yours?"

"Ja-...Eli. You got a job, Gabe?"

"I work at a convinient store as a-"

"You want a real job?"

"What do you mean?"

"The reason those girls were after me is because my band and I just got signed, and apparently the word is getting out fast. I need you..."

"...?"

"I can't...You saved me, and I owe you. If we ever go big time, I hope that you'll be my body guard."

"Ahh, so you're gonna be one of those musicians. Well I've got nothing better to do with my life. If you ever need a big guy, I'm your big guy. Fan girls are a trip."

And despite the aching crawl inside my muscles that still burned me after the violation that happened, I laughed. Little did I know that it would become a natural instinct to cringe away from another's touch.

oooooooooo

It was time.

I was sitting in the back of my World History when I got the text from Adam.

JJ is in the front office, he's getting our transcripts and officially getting us out of high school. Celebration subs in a few!
-Adam

I closed my phone and stuffed it in my pocket, clutching the hood of my hoodie closer to my face so it would hide the bruises on my left cheek bone from my first fangirl attack the week before. It was only a matter of time before I got called out of class and I would be free of this school forever.

No more freaks, no more weird stares, no more boring teachers, no more-

"Oh my gosh, what happened to your face?" a sweet voice asked, lacing with worry.

I looked up and my heart skipped a beat as I saw Clare Edwards' big blue eyes staring a few inches from my face as she stood next to my desk. Oh, how long I had dreamed to have the courage to speak to her, to have her this close, to stare into her eyes and get lost until all of my pain and suffering went away. She didn't know who I was, she didn't know that she had become my secret obsession for the past two years that she had been in Degrassi, she didn't know that this was the only class I looked forward to because I could see the back of her golden-honey hair, she didn't know that the only thing I would miss about school...was her.

...-no more Clare Edwards.

"Nothing..." I murmured nonchalantly, willing my eyes to break the spell and look out the window.

Maybe I should just tell her that I had a small, tiny crush on her. What did I have to lose? I was probably never going to see her again...

"Well if you ever want someone to talk to, I'm Clare. You should really get that looked at," Clare said, her lips parting as she let out a puff of air.

I couldn't help it, her lips were like a magnet and I couldn't stop staring at them. I tried to look back up to her eyes and talk to her like a normal person would, but dammit I couldn't resist. The thought of hugging her came into my mind, just once, but I felt the now all-too-familiar churn in my stomach that made my muscles clench at the thought of any contact with a female. I shut my eyes and clenched my teeth, cursing the fact that I was even repulsed at the thought of Clare and her hands on me...her sweet, nimble fingers...

"Um...are you okay-?" Clare's voice interrupted my thoughts.

I opened my eyes and looked up into her eyes, knowing she wanted my name.

"Jay Goldsworthy? You've been signed out, you're free to go," Principal Simpson said, poking his head through the door of the classroom.

I slowly reached for my black messenger bag beside her golden flat-clad feet and swung it over my shoulder, standing up. I gasped silently as my body ghosted over hers, the friction sizzling and burning; I had underestimated our distance. She stuttered and blushed prettily before stumbling back a little, her hands on the desk in front of my own. I felt my eyes glaze over slightly and my breathing shallow, staring at her as she stared at me. I could feel my muscles twitching and my heart beat rapidly. What just something as small as distance with her did to me...

Light bulb!

The relationship between spacial distances and movements, proximity...proxemics...

I clutched my bag tighter and nodded curtly. "Good-bye, Clare," I murmured, before turning away and walking out of the classroom that I would never see for the rest of my life.

Because space and actions became more important to me than words could ever be, the name Proxemics was born. Because Clare was the only thing I could think about for the next two years, she became my secret inspiration that gave Proxemics number one albums, sold out tours, and world-wide publicity.

Clare Edwards...I needed to have her, and I would make her mine.

Small introduction, probably not the best but I wanted to get it out there! What did you think? I wonder what you guys will like better, Proximity or Rockstar. This is going to be so fun! I look forward to writing to everyone weekly! Leave me love!

WAZAM