Broadway, NYC

Premiere of Alex Russo's new movie

June 03, 7:21 pm

"Miss Torres! Over here!"

"Hey, Mitchie! Smile!"

"Mitchie! Look here!"

Mitchie Torres stepped out of her long black limousine to a chorus of pleas from the paparazzi. She obliged with a toothy smile that showed off her perfect white teeth and complemented her ruby-colored minidress and matching heels. Her wavy brown hair was perfectly tousled, capturing the physique that had graced covers of magazines and newspapers all over America. She was currently the hottest pop star in the world, with her CD going triple-platinum and her songs all topping the charts: iTunes, Billboard, MTV…you name it, she was number one on it. Everyone wanted to be her.

Mitchie blew a kiss to the paparazzi. That one's for you, Shane Gray, she thought. Blowing a kiss to the cameras every time she stepped onto the red carpet was a ritual she'd started two years ago, when she attended her first public event. Her warm brown eyes glazed over as she thought of the events that happened two summers ago at Camp Rock…

"Shane?"

Mitchie stepped into the clearing near the lake, where Shane Gray was waiting. "It's me."

Shane was seated on a stone bench with his guitar, strumming and singing softly. Mitchie recognized it as her Final Jam song, "This Is Me." Her heart fluttered like a butterfly.

Mitchie sat down beside him. Shane stopped playing, put down his guitar, and turned to face her. "I'm glad you came, Mitchie."

"Of course I did," Mitchie said softly. "Why wouldn't I?"

Shane seemed upset and fidgety. "I have something to tell you."

Mitchie looked at him, confused. "Go on."

"It's not going to work out, Mitchie." Shane lowered his gaze, and focused instead on the guitar pick he was playing with. "We can't be together."

Mitchie's eyes filled with hot tears. "Why?"

Shane looked at her. "I love someone else, Mitchie. Someone who's not you."

"But who?" Mitchie looked like she might faint.

Shane didn't reply. Instead, he looked over his shoulder.

Mitchie looked toward that direction. Wait. That cabin was familiar.

"How could you?" Mitchie said. "Caitlyn? Of all people, why my best friend?"

"I'm sorry," Shane said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

With a final glance at her, Shane picked up his guitar and left. Mitchie remained seated, letting the tears pour out of her.

When Shane was just a speck in the distance, Mitchie let her emotions take control. She started singing, letting the song numb the pain she was feeling.

Mitchie returned back to reality. That scene had been the start of a new beginning for her. As she was singing, Shane's record executive happened to be walking by, and he signed Mitchie to a record deal on the spot. Two years later, she was the it girl of Hot Tunes Records, with a platinum album, a sold-out tour, and endorsements by the dozen. Not to mention that she was dating Garrett Fisher, the hottest movie star in the country. He was tanned, toned, and had gorgeous caramel-colored hair—take that, Shane.

"Mitchie!" A Hot Tunes TV reporter approached her. "You look fabulous!"

"Thank you." Mitchie smiled even wider.

"So, are you here to support your friend Alex Russo on her big movie debut?"

"Of course! I am so proud of her." Alex Russo was Mitchie's first and only genuine friend in Los Angeles. Alex had been a model, and before trying out acting, an international pop star. Of course Mitchie was here to see her BFF.

"And how do you feel that you've been asked to come back to Camp Rock to be a guest star counselor?" The reporter leaned in closer to her. "We heard that that's where your career started."

Mitchie took a deep breath. Two weeks ago, she'd gotten a call from Uncle Brown, asking her to come and be a guest star counselor for the summer. Mitchie was reluctant to accept, but after consulting with her mom and Alex, she decided that it was too good an opportunity to pass up—a chance to see Tess, Peggy and Ella again. A chance to show her ex-best friend Caitlyn that messing with her was so not worth it.

An opportunity to show Shane that she'd moved on.

Forcing herself to smile, Mitchie replied. "It's such a great honor, I'm very flattered."

Before the reporter could ask another question, another limousine pulled up. The paparazzi went wild and starting taking more pictures: it was Alex Russo herself, black-haired, brown-eyed, and fair-skinned, her model-like physique flattered by a plum-colored dress and gold heels. Alex worked the red carpet, smiling for paparazzi and granting interviews. When she spotted Mitchie, she excused herself from an interview and ran to hug her best friend.

"Mitchie!" The girls hugged, and hand in hand, walked the red carpet.

"That reporter just asked me about Camp Rock," Mitchie said to her friend, a grin plastered to her face to stop the paparazzi from digging up more stories about her. "I'm not even sure I want to go anymore."

"Oh?" Alex gave her friend a confused look. "Is it because of Shane?"

Mitchie sighed. "Duh."

Alex stopped walking and came to a halt. "Mitchie. Mitchie, Mitchie, Mitchie."

"What?"

"Don't you get what an opportunity this is? It's time to show Shane Gray that you're better and hotter than him—it's time to break his heart." Alex smiled at her own brilliance.

Mitchie thought it over, and the more she thought about it, the more it made sense to her. Of course. "I get what you mean."

"And to make it better, I'm coming with you. To Camp Rock."

"You don't have to do that."

"But I want to."

"Fine." Picking a fight with Alex was the last thing from Mitchie's mind right now, and she knew she wouldn't win anyway. Alex had a way of pouting and making her feel guilty that somehow, charmed everyone she'd ever met. Mitchie included. Instead, Mitchie looked back at the paparazzi to blow one last kiss before they went inside.

Instead of seeing her face plastered all over the tabloids, Mitchie saw something else. And what she saw made her freeze.

Alex was looking at her friend, her eyebrows knit, asking her what was wrong. But Mitchie hardly noticed. Alex wasn't there. The paparazzi wasn't. It was just her and the sight in front of her that made her want to run away, go home to her parents in Texas, and sit on her bed, crying. No more Mitchie Torres, international pop star. Just plain old Mitchie of long ago.

Because behind them another limousine had stopped, and the paparazzi started shouting again.

"Hey, Shane! Look over here!"