i'd like to thank trumpetrulez101 for helping me with this idea.
i know my history with finishing full stories, and i'm sorry.
i promise i'm going to try my best to finish this one,
but i do need the reader's encouragements.
also, this chapter took a lot of actual research. all the medical
business in this would make perfect sense in the real world.

Chasing Dreams: Chapter One

"Try one more time," urged Brown, rubbing circles on his nephew's back. Weakly, Shane Gray opened his mouth, and out escaped a strained cracking noise. The noise was thin and airy, with dips and jumps resembling singing. Brown gently removed his hand from Shane's bent-over back and looked around the room. It was stark white, and seemed almost blinding with the light from the window jumping into it. "Good try, mate."

Shane looked up at his uncle with weary, tired eyes. "What happened?" his voice cracked terribly.

"I don't know," sighed Brown, as he stroked his short beard, "that's why we're here. To find out."

Shane sighed and looked down again. Both hands were pressed onto the edge of the doctor's table, as his legs hung over – neck bent down. About a week ago, his throat started hurting unbearably, and about 2 days ago, it just stopped producing sound. It was as if his voice box was stolen right from his throat, and his vocal chords had been ripped through with a chainsaw. Even Shane's frustration and anger had cooled; he has worn himself out. Things like this never happened. Well, not to him at least. He was Shane Gray.

Suddenly, the door abruptly opened and in walked a warm-looking man with peppery stubble growing all over his face. Thin-framed glasses were perched gently across the bridge of his large, bent-down nose. Brown immediately stood up from the chair he was seated in and shook hands with the doctor. "Drew Copple, good to see you again." he smiled. Dr. Copple smiled widely.

"Brown! Nice to see you again, how is camp going?"

"It's just fine," Brown said with absolute pride. "But my nephew here is not. Shane, this is Dr. Copple. Dr. Copple, Shane." Brown quickly introduced. Dr. Copple stuck out his large hand to shake Shane's, but Shane only lowered his head even more without saying a word. Dr. Copple awkwardly put his hand away. "Anyway," Brown glared at Shane, "Shane's voice seemed to just stop working, if you catch my drift."

"Well, let me take a look." Dr. Copple looked down at Shane's records. "Shane, what do you do in your spare time? Is it what most 17 year olds do?" he asked. Dr. Copple was so ignorantly oblivious to who Shane Gray did for a living. Shane looked up with harsh, unforgiving eyes.

"Not really," he croaked. Dr. Copple winced at the noise. "My band and I tour the country, and I'm lead singer." he seemed to snap, but it sounded as monotone as ever. "And I'm 18 in a couple weeks." he added, for his own benefit. Brown just rolled his eyes.

"Oh, what's your band name?"

"Connect 3." Shane quickly answered.

"Oh! My daughter loves you; she has posters of you and your band mates all over her room. Do you think you could sign something for her?"

Shane smirked sarcastically. "That's very nice of her. Listen, doctor, I didn't come here to make friends or to sign autographs, or anything. No offense, but the only reason I'm sitting here is to find out why my voice is all fucked up. Other than that, I'd love to leave." he tried to sound menacing, but it only sounded weak and pathetic. Shane gripped the bed harder when Brown smacked his shoulder for the foul language. Shane only rolled his eyes, he was used to it.

After spending a summer at his uncle's camp, Camp Rock, two years ago, Shane had always been bitter. Granted he had been bitter before the camp experience, he was way worse now. He was lovesick for a couple of months after summer ended, but once the girl of his dreams that he had met at camp failed to keep her patience with his busy schedule and just stopped talking to him, he dropped into a severe depression. Now, all the sadness tore away to pure anger.

Although the two had never dated, he knew she was the perfect girl for him. He fell hard and fast, and it was snatched away before he even had time to fix it.

"Shane!" Shane's daydream ended to Brown nudging his shoulder. "Apologize to your doctor!"

"It's alright," Dr. Copple nodded understandingly. "Well anyway, Shane, I have to take a look at your throat." he held up the instrument, fitted with a light and a mini-magnifying glass. Shane dejectedly opened his mouth as far as it would go, sticking out his tongue. Dr. Copple poked around his mouth for a few more seconds before standing up straight and blinking his eyes. "How long have these symptoms been going on?"

"About a week," Brown answered for Shane.

"Actually," the 17-year-old interrupted. "My throat would hurt pretty badly for a couple of days, then just stop. It's been happening for a couple years now."

"A couple years?!" Brown seemed angry and exasperated. "Shane, you didn't even say anything? What if it's untreatable now?"

"Well," Dr. Copple cut in, "whether he reported it then or now, it's still treatable. My first diagnosis would be chronic laryngitis. Don't take this offensively, Shane, but I'm surprised you could hold up your career with your condition. From the looks of your worn out vocal chords and swollen larynx, I'd say you've had it for about two years, on and off." he explained. Shane just shrugged, whereas his uncle's jaw dropped.

"Well, can we fix it?" Brown asked.

"Of course," the doctor nodded. "Laryngitis is very treatable. Basing my logic on the idea that you're a professional singer, I'd say it was caused by excessive stress on your vocal chords with improper use."

"Improper use?" Shane argued. "I take very good care of my throat, okay?"

"It's not that easy, Shane." Dr. Copple started, "It's my professional guess that your voice isn't used to very high notes performed very loudly." he paused to write a few things down on a prescription sheet. "I'm recommending Prilosec for about 4 weeks. Take two a day, with meals. During this time, rest your voice. Failure to comply could result in permanent vocal damage, or surgery to reverse the effects."

"Wait, so that's it?" Shane croaked. "You're just telling me that I can't sing high notes anymore?"

Dr. Copple looked thoughtfully at the teen for a moment. "Well, I suppose with the proper training, you could get your vocal chords used to singing those high notes properly. Someone skilled in range training and vibrato, to teach you. Only after your treatment is complete in about a month."

"I don't have time to be trained! In a month, we're going on a summer tour!" Shane exclaimed. Dr. Copple scowled at Brown.

"Speaking like a friend, it's also my suggestion to cancel or postpone the tour. Don't you own a vocal training camp, Brown? Camp Rockstar, or something of the sort?"

"That's true," Brown nodded, scratching the tufts on his head. Sighing heavily, he looked at Shane with sorry eyes. "I'm sorry Shane, but as your group's manager, I'm canceling the tour. No use trying to sing if it's only going to hurt you. Our employment directors are looking to hire personal vocal trainers, and I'll just tell them to look for one that specializes in ranges and vibrato."

"Uncle Brown, last time I was at Camp Rock, I was a counselor. I haven't been a camper in years. Don't make me do this!" he growled. Brown only shrugged his shoulders hopelessly.

"Tour's off, superstar. You're coming back to Camp Rock."

ooh, who will be shane's vocal trainer?
who will he meet again at camp rock?
will his voice ever get better?
you'll find out more with each juicy update! :)
care to review?