I'M SUCH A HORRIBLE PERSON.

I haven't updated in forever. If I could count the amount of reviews and favs and what not I've gotten since my last update.

Oh Jesus, shorten my life by that many years and I'd be dead.

I've been wanting to make it up to you guys for a long time, but I haven't been able too. There has been school, family, and other relationship issues I need to get a handle on, and fan fiction was in the back of my mind.

Don't get me wrong, I love writing, and I love how you guys like my stories, it just gets hard sometimes. Please forgive meeee.

-Sarah

Crossing Roads With A Rock Star

Chapter 7:

Karma Loves Me

If you could imagine the worst way of waking up, what would it be?

Just ask Mitchie Torres who is currently not in the bed she slept in last night, but on the floor, with a dog biting her toes, covered in fluffy white stuff, and a muffled snoring noise in the background. As soon as Mitchie opened her eyes, she wanted to close them.

"What the-"

BAM.

Why her head was partially under the bed and she just smacked into it, she had no idea. But she did know she would need a lot of makeup to cover the bruise. As she was waking up more she felt a...stabbing, was it? In her toes. Coming from underneath her dark sleeping area, she noticed a tan chihuahua nipping at her toes.

"! OUT!" Mitchie shouted brutally. The dog backed off her toes but barked – no - "yipped" at the girl as she stood up. She was covered in...fluffy white material? She looked at the only pillow she had brought, laying against the corner of the bed, was probably thrown off along with Mitchie, shredded open and looking flat. She turned back to the chihuahua and spoke louder, pointing to the door.

"OUT!"

It took 12 bandages and an ice pack before Mitchie was feeling normal again. She just stood in a chair as Monica was lulling in her arms, like a baby. Mitchie felt disgusted and turned to the bed she was sleeping on before being brutally kicked off. There was Anne, sound asleep. Mouth wide open and snoring like a bear, her cousin looked extremely funny. Mitchie would've giggled if her head didn't hurt when she laughed...

"I'm sorry Mitch! I couldn't sleep on the air mattress. I tried to carry you to it but me and Monica drank a little bit and I was extremely exhausted-" Anne was interrupted by a loud grunt from Mitchie. It was silent for a minute before Mitchie replied.

"No No. This is my fault. If I had just stayed home like a good little girl...I wouldn't be in this situation. You've helped me get this far, and I thank you. Just don't..." Mitchie shook her head to shake off the conversation so she wouldn't have to speak anymore. Anne attempted a hug but Mitchie groaned and Anne pulled away quickly mouthing the words, "I'm sorry."

All Mitchie could think was,

"Maybe God hates me?"

It turns out it was about 30 minutes before Mitchie had to meet Shane now and after getting out of the shower, her bruise was showing up, her eyes looked saggy, and her hair reminded her of a wet cat.

"God does hate me."

"Here we are," Anne said with a smile, pulling up to a large, modern-looking music shop. Mitchie looked at the piece of paper with the information she needed that she got from Shane. When the name matched with the name on the paper, she felt something tug at her a bit inside.

Guilt.

"Anne, I love Shane and all but-"

"No! I'm not joining your pity-party right now! Get your ass in there," Anne began, "And show me that coming all the way down to here was worth it. You cost me tons of money in gas, and I'm NOT letting you go that easily."

"But-"

"NO!"

"FINE!" Mitchie shouted, jumping out of the car and slamming the car door, mistakenly making a bigger scene than she wanted. Some of the girls who were already crowded outside the door looked at her and some began whispering and giggling. Mitchie tensed a bit and tried to hide part of her face with her hair. It was a lot more quiet than it should be for a Connect 3 CD signing. Not wanting to make more of a scene, she slowly, as gracefully as she should, walked to part of the back of the crowd, slightly towering over the younger girls (and rarely guys) and their parents. She could hear some of the faint whispers of "It's Mitchie!" "Should I ask for her autograph too?" "Daddy, can I get my hair like hers?" "I wonder if they've kissed yet..." "What is she doing here?" And so forth. She turned to a young woman with a young girl, probably her daughter. The woman smiled at her and Mitchie smiled politely back. She looked down to the little girl who just stared at her, never blinking. She felt more awkward than ever and looked back up, straight at the building, right at the door, hoping for the time they let the doors open or a guard calls her name.

A signal came on only about 20 seconds later, 20 days later in Mitchie time, saying that they would be opening the doors in 40 minutes. Mitchie looked at a street clock noticing it was 10:30. She was supposed to meet Shane 20 minutes ago. It seriously looked as if she was going to have to go see her boyfriend...along with a crowd of younger girls who either hate her, envy her, or look up to her.

It was silent while the announcement was on, going over some basic rules, when Mitchie's phone rang, causing heads around her to turn. She fumbled with it, nervous, and when she answered with a simple "Hello," it came out much louder than she intended. She smiled nervously as some girls rolled their eyes and turned back to the door and some girls just watched her.

"Where are you?" a voice said softly.

"Shane?" She said in a whisper, hoping for some not to hear.

"Yes, Shane. What's going on. Why aren't you in here yet?"

"Uhm," Mitchie fumbled with her jacket zipper, feeling some eyes on her and trying to make up a lie. "On my way here I got held up and uhm, I'm here but – uhm – some girls pulled me aside to talk to me and just...yeah."

"Are you outside right now?"

"Uhm...No?" Mitchie said in a high pitched voice.

"Mitchie, don't lie to me! You're outside aren't you?"

"Yes, I don't see what the big deal is-"

"Damn it, Mitchie!" He groaned. She heard the phone pull away for a bit and some faint talking. Not wanting to be noticed anymore she held the phone the closest to her mouth that she could and whispered, rather loudly.

"Shane! I'm fine! Don't start anything, please!"

Silence.

"Shane!"

More Silence.

"DAMN IT SHANE I SAID DON'T CAUSE ANY ATTENTION TO ME!" she – ahem – shouted.

Lots of heads turned.

"Hm? What was that?" He replied, phone back to his ear.

"N-Nothing."

"Okay well, some people are coming out to get you."

"No wait, Shane-"

Click.

She growled slightly, forgetting where she was. More whispers had started again and she tried not to, but eventually looked at the door, to see it cracking slowly. You could see the arm of a suit and a man try and step out, but then you saw a long, lanky, thin arm go across his chest to hold him back, as the person emerged from the door. She was a normal-sized, skinny girl, about the age of seventeen. She was wearing sunglasses that covered half her face, and her blond hair was pulled to the side in a messy side ponytail. Her skin was fair, and her face clean of any makeup, on the part that was visible, anyway. She was wearing a leather coat, like the ones models wear over clothing or executives wear over suits to keep them nice in rain. Maybe she was a part time model executive? She looked sophisticated enough to be a secretary, and had the right figure to be a model. She whispered something that looked slightly rude to the big man, and he just stepped aside. She stepped forward into the daylight, the black shoes she was wearing clacking. Nobody made a sound. If some tumbleweed ran by, it would be just like a western. Mitchie chuckled to herself at the scene. Inaudible words were exchanged between the man and the woman before she looked forward into the crowd. She slid her sunglasses down barely, to where she could see the people but they couldn't see her and she looked in the center of the crowd before pushing her glasses up and began walking forward, into the crowd. People now had the inference she was now a press agent and was taking her leave. They cleared a pathway for her and followed her gaze as she calmly walked to the back of the crowd, staring at Mitchie. She came face to face with her, and...smirked? She grabbed onto Mitchie's elbow and started dragging her up through the crowd. They were finally in the part again that was field with no people, but the two and some guards blocking the ropes.

"Who are you?" Mitchie asked in awe as the woman just gazed at the man at the door as he was speaking into an ear piece. The woman turned to Mitchie again and smiled. It didn't seem too sincere, but Mitchie couldn't tell, the woman's eyes were covered.

"That will stay a secret," the woman said, putting a finger to her lips, "Until we get inside." The woman put her hands back into her coat and gazed back over to the man. The woman had a sultry voice, something that could easily be used to sway some innocent guy into something. The man nodded in their direction and the woman grabbed her arm lightly again and began leading Mitchie in through the front door. Mitchie came to the conclusion she was one of Shane's assistants and just sighed. Right before she walked in through the door, a camera flashed.

The door behind them shut and Mitchie was still being pulled by the strange woman. She laughed and turned to her. "That was so great! Nobody recognized me!" She laughed again. Mitchie tried to smile but it looked a bit sour, wishing she would be let in on the joke, so she could laugh, too. The woman looked at Mitchie then gasped.

"Sorry!" She said, Mitchie had no idea what she was apologizing for. "I just got too excited! I promised to tell you who I was when we got inside, right?" Mitchie did recall that, but not a promise. And, excited? Wasn't she one of Shane's assistants? The woman took out the band from the side of her hair, letting her hair spread back apart around her head in a way sea of blond strands. The woman then took off the sunglasses, revealing big, hazel eyes. Mitchie didn't mean to stare. The woman smiled, she wasn't wearing any makeup, and she looked awfully familiar.

"Know me now?" she said in an expecting tone. Mitchie opened her mouth to speak, but not wanting to make a fool of herself, she shut it, ignoring the friendly jokes she wanted to spit out, and just shook her head. The girl laughed, surprisingly, but was there a hint of aggravation in her laugh?

"Thats okay," the woman said. "I normally don't look like this." She said, waving her hand around her body. She then swung the coat off and stretched, looking free. Her outfit was nice, very nice. Probably expensive. She yawned and looked over to Mitchie.

"Still can't figure it out?"

"I'm sorry..." Mitchie mumbled.

"It's quite alright," The overly friendly girl smiled. "I usually look like that." the girl said, pointing to a large poster of Eliza Cammings, next to a larger one of Connect 3. Mitchie then looked at the girl, the poster, then the girl again.

"You're..."

"Eliza Cammings." She said professionally. She then smiled again and held out a hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mitchie Torres."