DISCLAIMER: I do not own Wizards of Waverly Place, Camp Rock, or anything related to the two.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ask and you shall receive, and you received a sequel! :) This is the 3rd story I've written a sequel for, and while with the other 2, the sequels could stand on their own, if you're just tuning in, I recommend you NOT read this unless you've read the story before this: "Nothing But a Good Bye." I'm fairly certain in saying that this story won't make sense without knowing what happened before it, so go read it! It's only a oneshot.

For those of you have already read and reviewed "NBaGB," THANK YOU SO MUCH! I was so thrilled that you guys wanted to see more, and like I promised, I've delivered. So without further ado, enjoy, and please keep those reviews coming as you feel compelled!

It had been a year, almost to the date, since they last saw each other, but Alex Russo could still remember Mitchie Torres' exact scent. It wasn't just her perfume, either; that would at least have been easier to recreate, but Mitchie was one of those people whose very essence – hair, skin, clothing – had a pleasant aroma that no variety of fragrances could duplicate.

The 5-foot, 5-inch New York native took whatever measures necessary to think of her former fellow camper as infrequently as possible. As much as her state of being improved miraculously when picturing the sparkle of Mitchie's smile or remembering the splendor of her voice, it was still overshadowed whenever something would snap Alex back into reality and reminded her that the content of her daydreams would always be nothing but a fantastical memory.

Lately, however, it had been nearly impossible to derail her train of thought from the track it always seemed to be headed down, and she just wanted it to be over.

It all started a month ago when Harper was keeping her company as she worked another long shift at her family's sandwich shop. The little worker bee formerly known as Alex was doing dishes in the back as Harper sat at the counter and went through countless free beverages while reading magazines.

"Hey, Alex!" Harper exclaimed, "Didn't you go to Camp Rock with these guys?"

Alex had to instantly suppress the urge to cry and the nauseous feeling in her stomach when she saw an ad for the "Connect 3 Summer World Tour" accompanied by a picture of the guys with their instruments. But the first thing that jumped out at Alex was the smaller, yet strikingly penetrating image of the subject of her heartache, Mitchie, super-imposed over the picture of the band, the words "Opening Act" under the photo.

Remembering that Harper asked her a question, she figured she should probably answer. "Uh, only him and her," Alex began, pointing to Shane and then Mitchie and subconsciously letting her finger brush Mitchie's photo for a few extra seconds, "but let's not talk about it, okay?"

Harper looked more confused than usual. "Why, what's wrong?"

Alex quickly crafted a lie, again, as usual. "Well, my parents are right behind you serving customers, and they still get mad at any mention of c-a-m-p, y'know?"

Harper nodded comprehensively, buying what was a plausible story. After Alex came home at the end of the summer and broke the charm, Mr. and Mrs. Russo hit the roof, making her work at the sub station to reimburse them the money they inadvertently spent on Camp Rock, and then keeping her on the same schedule once the debt was paid, to enforce responsibility. When Harper asked why Alex was in so much trouble, she quickly cooked a lie along the lines that she told her parents she had a scholarship when really she used their credit card to pay the attendance fee. Yet another side of herself she had to be dishonest about.

But slow-on-the-uptake Harper had to unknowingly throw in one last dagger. "But just so you know, the singers you went to c-a-m-p with are going to be playing at the Garden next month!" the eccentric girl whispered in attempt at being discreet.

Alex faked a smile in reply. "Cool! But seriously, let's drop it, okay?"

"Okay, sorry!" Harper said earnestly before turning the page in her magazine.

Alex felt her lower lip start to tremble and went back to the sink, turning on the water so she couldn't be seen or heard. As oblivious as Harper could be, even she knew something was up. A part of Alex wanted to tell Harper so badly -- to break down, fall into her arms, and cry on the best friend shoulder that she needed so much. But if there was one thing Alex had learned in the past year, it was that the more you open yourself up to be vulnerable, the more you get hurt. The reason behind her tears was perfect proof of that.

It seemed like from that day on, the thought and mention of exactly who and what Alex was trying to forget kept continuously coming up. Whether through billboards, radio ads, or student gossip, mention of Connect 3's tour wouldn't stop circulating, and the dramatic side of Alex felt like it was almost happening purposely just to punish her.

She couldn't even find solace in her sleep, since her dreams taunted her as well. Her subconscious filled with images of the previous summer, including how closely they laid next to one another in their shared twin bed. She tried to will herself to turn her focus elsewhere, even to school and work, but there was one dream particularly that seemed to permeate any other thought…

Alex knows that she's in the Torres' cabin, not only because of the distinct smell in the air, the light that beams through the window, and the feeling of a warm body next to hers, but also because the stress and sadness in her head and heart she had since become accustomed to was gone. She can feel her heavy eyelids start to close after an eventful day and prepares to surrender herself to slumber when she is suddenly very awake at the feeling of hot breath on the back of her neck. She doesn't dare move even though the closeness and rhythm of Mitchie's breathing gives her the impression that the other girl isn't just stirring in her sleep. Her suspicions are confirmed when an audible exhale leaves her mouth as Mitchie's hands wrap around her from behind, fingers tracing perfect circles around Alex's abdomen and inching dangerously close to the waistband of her pajama pants.

"Mitchie?" Alex somehow manages.

The slightly smaller girl shudders at the feeling of the lips she often studies during the day playing on her ear. "Turn over," Mitchie softly commands.

Alex does everything she can to instruct her brain to make a full turn and face Mitchie, but the best she can do is roll onto her back. She can see and feel the rapid thump of her heart causing her chest to rise and fall, and Mitchie can obviously see it, too, as she straddles Alex, taking her as a willing, but nervous prisoner.

"Are you okay?" Mitchie asks in her sweet nature with her sweet voice.

Alex nods frantically. "Yes… please just kiss me," she begs.

When Mitchie's lips touch Alex's, she has to suppress a sob of a long-awaited desperate kind of joy. In typical caring Mitchie fashion, she instantly brings a hand to Alex's face, handling her like the delicate girl she really is, but rarely lets people see, as she continues to kiss her.

Alex is only momentarily taken away from her bliss when she hears Connie, Mitchie's mom, rolling over in bed a mere few feet away.

With great reluctance, she pulls away from the kiss. "Mitchie… your mom…"

"I don't care," Mitchie rasped, "I love you, Alex…"

This time a few tears do fall from the young wizard's eyes. "Oh, God, I love you, too," Alex can't help but say, leaning up for another kiss…

And suddenly she is awake, no warm body to shelter her, no sweet words echoing in her ears, just a cold, dark room that seems to epitomize Alex's loneliness. These cruel illusions had finally taken their toll on the heartbroken, sleep deprived girl as she wept at the top of her lungs, causing her mom, Theresa, to run into the room.

"Alex! What's wrong, mi hija?" Theresa all but interrogated, never having seen Alex this upset.

The mother made desperate attempts at calming her daughter, rubbing her back to try and still her body tremors and tears, but both just continued to worsen.

Theresa had to try again, "Alexandra, talk to me, corazón…"

Alex finally caught enough breath to speak, but it still came out as a scream-sob of sorts. "I just want to stop thinking about it, Mom! I just want to get it out of my head! I try, but when I'm sleeping, when I'm awake, I just can't escape!"

That was enough to petrify Mrs. Russo. "What?! What's it? Sweetie, what happened to you?"

"You wouldn't understand!" Alex cried, almost spitefully.

"Then help me understand!" Theresa pleaded with her daughter, further discouraged by the sounds of nothing but more crying, although it had let up a little.

After a few moments of verbal silence, Alex finally spoke up. "I just want to try and go back to sleep," said the distraught teenager. "I'm supposed to open tomorrow, and -"

"Oh, no you're not. I will take your shift tomorrow, because you need to rest. We'll talk about this more with your dad tomorrow, because we may need to get you to a doctor," the concerned woman lamented.

A few months ago, Alex would have detested the idea and been very vocal about it, but at this point, she was willing to try just about anything, even if it meant adding another abnormality to her growing checklist. Now, she just gave a defeated nod.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she sighed.

Mrs. Russo gave her daughter one last squeeze and a kiss on the forehead. "Wake me up if you need anything."

Once again, Alex nodded in agreement and gently wiped the area around her stinging eyes. Like every night, she tried to count her blessings, her caring mother being on the forefront for the moment. And truthfully, Alex was grateful for her mom and all the other people and things she had, but as certain as she was for her gratitude, she was equally sure that in order to get on with her life as well as get back her old spirit, she needed to leave last summer behind her. After the weekend was over, the Connect 3 Tour would be on to another state, and hopefully allow Alex some long overdue peace of mind. She continuously repeated the whole moving on mentality to herself as she drifted off to sleep for the second time that night.

………………………………

By 3 PM, Alex had been working for an hour and finding, much to her surprise, that it was working effectively as a way to positively occupy her thoughts. The mere fact that she had successfully convinced her mom that she was well and able to take a shift was some sort of testament to her improved state of being, and Theresa and Jerry actually felt relieved when they saw the way Alex was interacting with customers with what appeared to be a genuine smile.

The seasoned waitress ripped an order out of her notebook and slid it across the counter where her parents, who were assembling the meals, could get it.

"Would it be okay if I clocked out by 6? Harper and I were thinking of having a movie night," Alex said.

"I think your mom and I can handle it," Jerry said, for once cutting Alex a bit of slack after his wife filled him in the night before.

"Of course we can," Theresa agreed, "You and Harper have fun… Oh, Alex, I think table 4's ready for their check. You take care of them, and I'll seat whoever comes in."

"I'm on it," Alex said purposefully, heading for table 4. "All right, are you guys all set with these dishes?"

Upon the nod from the customers, Alex collected the stack of plates and glasses from the table, but before she could give them their check, she overheard her mom conversing with a voice she only heard as of late in her dreams:

"I feel so rude, I really didn't mean to stare," the voice spoke, "you just remind me a lot of my mom."

Alex didn't even have to turn around to be one hundred percent certain who the voice belonged to, and it turns out, she didn't have to.

"Alex," it spoke, its tone somewhere on the spectrum between excitement and sadness.

Alex's only response, aside from making the full turn to confirm that it was in fact Mitchie Torres standing 10 feet away from her, was the crashing sound of the seemingly slow motion breakage of every single dish that she collected from table 4.

AUTHOR'S NOTE #2: :ducks: Don't hit me, I'm a total wimp! I'm sure that those of you who read the prequel, especially those of you who specifically asked me to make this one happy, are about ready to beat me up, but this one isn't over yet!! As I predicted, this one is a chapter fic, and there's still more in store for our angst-filled duo. So, please review and hold tight!