"My mother says I should come back home but can't find the way cause the way is gone" Lost - Katy Perry

The Undeveloped Story

Chapter One

"Hi, my name is Mitchie Torres, and I'm…" you trail off, lowering your outstretched hand as the brunette, sporty girl swiftly turns around, walking away from you. She points to an ajar door to the left before disappearing into another room. "Your new roommate." You finish lamely to yourself before picking up your suitcase again. You look all around you - noticing the crappy, ripped couch and the dusty television in the tiny living room - before going to the door she pointed to. Inside the room, your eyes sweep over every surface, noticing your roommate has already set up her side of the room. Your side is completely bare. There's a simple bed and a desk, but that's it.

That's it.

There's nothing that screams home or looks comforting. The walls are a different color from your old dorm. The layout is different. Hell, even the windows are shaped differently. You drop your bag loudly on the floor, feeling exhausted after the eight hour flight, and go to the bed, sitting on it. The material scratches at your uncovered thighs and you feel the urge to cry. Two years ago when you were a sophomore at your super small college in the middle of New Jersey, you thought you needed to get out of there. So, you promised yourself you would get out for graduate school for a better experience.

So here you are in California. And nothing.

Granted you just got here, but you already miss your mother and father. You already want to go to Sierra's house to watch Hot Tunes or True Blood, sneaking a glass of Merlot even though you turn of age in less than five months. You already want to curl up at either your bed at home or your old bed at your dorm with a book and write a few songs afterwards. You already want to leave; except you know you cannot.

You are here for another four years of school whether you like it or not. "Hi, sorry. My boyfriend was on the line." You jump at the sound, and you look at the girl more closely. She is wearing an Army shirt with basketball shorts, her hair tucked under a military styled brown hat. Your first thought is she's a lesbian but then you remember what she just said. "…can't talk a lot on the phone, so whenever he's on, it's like no one else exists. But whatever. I'm Sam." You try to keep up with what she is saying until standing up and accepting her hand in a firm handshake.

She gives you a small smile that is not at all warm before nodding. "Any more bags?" she asks, looking at your one suitcase. You shake your head, ready to explain that you are buying stuff today. You immediately figure you can ask her what store to go to, and she will drive you there before stopping a quaint coffee shop where the two of you will share college stories. Instead she didn't enquire any further and went to leave the room.

"Wait! That's your stuff right?" you ask, nodding over to the other side of the room. She shakes her head, fixing her hat slightly.

"Nope. I live in the next room over. Your roommate will come later, I think. She stepped out with some guy." Sam calls out as she walks back to her room. By the time, you let out a thank you, she already slammed her door shut. Sighing, you again wonder why you didn't just dorm in one of the university's houses instead of looking for an apartment. That way at least everyone would be on the same awkward boat - and you would not be the only new girl. Sitting back on your scratchy bed, you pull out your phone and throw yourself backwards.

You play with your phone before dialing a familiar number. "Hey, Caity." You breathe out shakily.

"Oh! Hey, Mitchie! How's California? Did you look at the ocean yet? Is it blue?" Caitlyn says with faux excitement. You roll your eyes but crack a smile. She is a good friend you made about four years ago at a music camp you used to go to during the summer, and has since become one of your primary friends.

"I get it. I get it. You want me back to New Jersey. Message received." You say with bitterness, sighing loudly. "Trust me, I think even I want me back in Essex County, New Jersey." You say, looking up the ceiling. The tiles look like they might break off at any moment and you let out an involuntary snort.

Caitlyn gasps dramatically. "What? Mitchie Torres doesn't like California? Call the press. Alert the media." She says sarcastically and you groan. She chuckles before clearing her throat. "I mean, why aren't you feeling California yet?" she asks, but when you go to answer she cuts you off. "Besides the fact you're the only twenty year old virgin left in that state and that you're new and blah blah blah. I want a specific reason why you're not liking that place you promise me was the Promise Land once upon a time - not just the sun too bright or some crap." She tells you pointedly.

You frown. "I am new." You point out, huffing slightly. "Like, not just to a new school, but to a whole state. I don't know anyone and my suitemate is a jerk - or at the very least very antisocial and possibly bisexual. I don't have any furniture and I need sheets and I miss you." You finish with a high pitched voice. Caitlyn sighs sadly.

"I'm sorry, baby. I know you're scared, but I want you to realize that this is your life. You tell me all the time that you wish you would have been more open in school. Well, here's your chance. Do that thing old Mitchie would never have done! Be free, Mitchie. Be someone, okay baby? For me. So that I know you moving was not for nothing." She whines at the end, but her words are firm. You know you have to branch out, but it's so hard for you.

You blow out your breath harshly, sending your bangs flying for a couple seconds. "I'll try Caity." You say honestly, and she smiled. The two of you prattle about other unimportant things before she hangs up, excusing herself for an early night - It's almost nine here, Mitchie. I have seven am class., she argues with you when you ask for a couple more minutes. Sighing, you plop yourself further up the bed. You stay there in that position for a while, before reaching up and going through your large purse and trying to pull out your laptop. You almost drop it when someone comes inside your room loudly, jumping at the scream that pierces the air.

"Oh, my God! Are you my new roomie?" Looking up at the person, you can feel your heart stop. Her hair is every different color, layered like a rainbow with heavy makeup and very scene clothing, but what hits you the most is the alcohol you can smell on her. "Oh jeeze, I have been waiting for hours. Did you meet the supposedly Not-A-Dyke yet?" she asks loudly, even though the door is open.

You lower your eyebrows, halfway insulted. Your best friend from back home is gay - you don't take homophobic insults very well. "You mean Sam? Yes, I did." You say sharper than you meant, but the girl doesn't even notice. She stumbles over to her side of the bed, taking off her long shirt without even caring if you are looking.

"Well, my name is Amy Martin and I just had like three shots." She confesses, laughing profusely. You nod awkwardly, looking at the screen on your phone that proclaims it's a quarter to six. She takes out a man's shirt and puts it on over her black leggings. "Okay, we're going out. Here let me find you some stuff. What's your name by the way?" she says quickly as she starts throwing clothes from her closet on her bed. "And what size are you?" she asks, finally looking at you.

"Stuff? Mitchie and… a five?" you finish, almost questioning yourself. You look at her strangely as she throws a small black dress your way before going back to her closet. You finger the soft material before scrunching your nose in confusion. "What's going on?" you say with narrow eyes.

"We're going to see this singer. She's like unknown and she's kinda crazy, but she's kickass. It's at the Black Mamba, a little café slash music place thing. Tonight's Talent Night and she's quote unquote headlining." Amy explains as she puts on some heels and kicks over some pumps over at you. "Come it will be fun. You're like from Jersey or Boston or something. Do you know anyone here?" she asks pointedly and you shake your head. "Well, then it's settled you're coming with us tonight. I have a couple guy friends, but I'm the only chick so you even us out." She confesses as she reaches over to start doing her makeup. "Go dress. Just let me borrow something later." She waves you off.

You know you want to stay. You know you have to buy sheets and food and other necessities, but you also know you have to go out to be noticed. Caitlyn's words echo in your mind, until you breathe out and stand up, going towards what you see is the bathroom. When you get there, you quickly dress in the clothes she gave you, before throwing on some random lipgloss and mascara. When you go back out, Amy immediately pulls your hand, leading you to the door. "Who's driving? They haven't been drinking, have they?" you ask uncertainly as you go out the door and start going down the

"Silly girl." She says with a roll of her eyes. "We're walking. It's right there." She tells you with a run through her hand. You watch as the bright purple of her hair comes forward. "I only drank because I saw my ex with my mother yesterday." She states, almost nonchalantly. Your eyes widen in horror and she waves you off. "Yeah, whatever. I'm vodka numb. So, it's cool." She says with a spring in her step. When you get downstairs, you see two boys - boys because they could not have been older than nineteen - waiting for her. "This is Jacob and Chris, my little brother and his best friend." She says with a warm smile. "Guys, this is Mitchie, my off limits roommate." She gestures to you.

You give a roll of your eyes but still manage to smile at the two guys. They smirk and wave at you, before the four of you start walking. "Whoo! I'm so over Brenden and Mom. They want to be together - may they be happy together." Amy suddenly screams out, failing her arms up. Jacob, who you assume is her brother, sighs and tries to help her stay steady.

You can tell this is going to be a messy night.

When you get to the café, the lights are dimmed and people are spread out in different tables. The mood seems almost too peaceful for the drunk mess that is Amy, but she moves around like she owns the place. Chris and Jacob pick plushy comfortable seats near the back but close to the stage for you guys to sit on. You look around and notice the room is filled with teens and young adults, some with beers in their hands instead of coffee. You shiver at the coldness in the room, and move closer to Chris, who promptly blushes. You smile sweetly at him and try to make small talk, but the action begins when a girl gets on stage.

She is young but obviously experienced. Her hair is blonde with dark highlights and she has heavy makeup on, but when she talks, her voice is angelic. "Hi guys. My name is Jade and I'm here to rock this place." Her voices gets louder with every word until the room is cheering her on. You laugh at the eagerness of some of the people, noticing Amy on the other hand is falling to sleep. It seems like everyone sings along to Jade's songs and you wonder how people know her. You obviously never heard of her, but you wouldn't be surprised if some of the people here worshipped her. The way people yell and dance makes you halfway laugh.

And then you see him.

He is sitting in the back, like you, but just not as close to the stage. His hair is a soft, curly black and it covers some of his eyes, but you can still see the intense stare they are giving Jade. He is in a simple white shirt that outlines his tight, strong muscles with painted-on black jeans that highlight his muscular thighs. On top of the white shirt, he has a crisp leather jacket that makes him seem bad. It doesn't help that he has a stubble that makes him seem older and almost dangerous. His lips are quietly moving along with the music, but nowhere as rambunctious as the crowd.

You find yourself getting out of your seat. Chris or Jacob calls for you to come back but you ignore them. Right now, you can only see him. You cannot hear Jade or the crowd or the yells. You can only see him and no one else. You move through the crowd like it's liquid - flowing through everyone until he is in your reach. Now that you are closer, you see his hand is buried in his hair, with his iPhone laying right next to him on a table. You walk over to the guy, taking a seat that is next to the table but not in front of him. He stares at Jade for a little bit more before turning his eyes over to you.

They are a deep brown but have a tint of light green. They are piercing and intense, and they subsequently narrow as he gives you the once over. "Mitchie Torres." He lets your name out like it's honey. It's loud as hell in that small café, but you can hear his voice perfectly. He sounds like sugar - like amazing addictive sugar. His voice is smooth - smoother than you remember - and you thank God the place is dark or else he would see your bright cheeks. "Guess you aren't sixteen, anymore?" he muses randomly before looking back at Jade.

You clear your throat. "Nope." You lips popping at the 'p'. "I'm here for my Bachelor's." you add because you feel you have to. He looks at you again, his smoldering eyes meeting yours. "I-um…" you stutter, suddenly forgetting everything. You blink and look away. "I'm here with my roommate, Amy." You say, heat going up your body.

He nods, and you play with your hands. You gasp when you feel his fingers under your chin. You swear you saw lightning bolts behind your eyes when he touched you. He looks in you in the eyes. "You've changed since I last saw you." He mentions, letting go of your chin abruptly. You shuffle in your seat, clearing your throat.

"The last time you saw me, I was in a canoe wearing my mother's clothes because I thought they were cooler than mine, Shane." You remind him pointedly, and he chuckles wordlessly. You watch him again, noticing the olive tone to his skin as his Adam's apple bobs slowly up and down. He ignores you for the rest of the time as you try not to stare blatantly at him. Suddenly loud applause is heard and you realize Jade just sang her last song. As soon as she jumps off the stage, Shane stands up and you do as well. Again, he looks you up and down. "It was nice seeing you Shane." You say awkwardly as his eyes snap back to yours.

He bites his lip, sending shivers up and down your spine for some reason and gives a swift nod. He goes to say something but a loud yell interrupts him. You jump when you feel a whole body being thrown your way. "Hi, roomie! Did you like Jade? Wasn't she awesome?" Amy slurs, prompting you to believe she has taken in more alcohol. "Where'd you go? I missed you so." She starts singing, just as Jacob and Chris come. They both help you get her off you and calm her down, but it is too late. By the time you look back to where Shane was just standing, you notice no one's there. You quickly look around you, but you do not see his curly dark hair anywhere.

He's gone. And you're left wondering where he went.

--

"Okay, I got her." You sigh while trying to put Amy carefully on the bed and not hurt yourself. Chris or Jacob - after you saw him, you swear you forgot everyone's name - nod at you before leaving. Closing your eyes, you cannot help a small smile come to your face. It's been almost three years since you last saw Shane Grey. He was different back then - famous, pretty and irresistible, but now he is a Nobody, childhood star that has fizzled out months ago.

At least, he's still irresistible.

Sighing, you shake away the thoughts of the older popstar and focus on getting to sleep. You have a big day ahead of you - what with the new school that you have to learn the directions to and learn how to get around and make friends and start over. It's going to a hard process but hopefully you will succeed better than you have with your own roommates. Suddenly, just as you snuggle in more in your bed, music starts blasting from the room next door from you.

"I'm bringing sexy back. Them other boys don't know how to act. I think you're special, what's behind your back? So turn around and I'll pick up the slack."

You sit up on your bed, looking at the not-stirring Amy before looking at the door. You stay impossibly quiet as the song continues, your mouth opening in a slight gasp. Suddenly, you hear bodies hitting the walls. You eyes widen with every thump before you realize what is going on. "Oh my God." You say, almost hyperventilating. "No, this is not happening!" you almost scream, but no one listens to you. Amy is too drunk to care and they - whoever they are - are too engrossed in themselves to notice. "I hate this!" you scream into the pillow.

"He was mine first, Mom." Amy moans before flipping over. You gasp and look up, eyes wide again but she doesn't stir again. After the thumping gets louder, you jump out of bed. You walk out of the door, only to stare helplessly at the hallway as the noise triples. Groaning loud and almost feeling tears coming to your eyes, you angrily leave the new apartment. You race down the stairs as quickly as you can, as the heaviness in your eyes increase. Suddenly, as soon as you leave the building and come in contact with the stale California air, you start running.

You have no idea where you are going or what you will achieve, but you run until you cannot breathe. Then, you start crying. You are so far away from home - from who you are, from what you do, from what you know. You are in a new place, in an undeveloped story that is slowly unraveling. Everything around you is new.

You do not know how long you cry for but you know it is late when you finally wipe your eyes. Looking around, you shiver in fear when you do not recognize where you are. All the buildings around you are closed and dark. The street has no cars whatsoever. No one is on the streets. You ball your fists and start to walk from where you think ran from. Breathing out harshly, you realize you are lost, but with a sigh, you continue walking. Suddenly, you begin to recognize the street you are one. Your eyes widen as a Ben's Liquors blinks at you and you automatically turn your head to see a small café staring back at you.

Black Mamba.

Sighing in relief, the tension leaves your body for a second as you walk towards the café - hoping that is twenty four hours and you can grab a cup of something to calm your nerves. However, when you get closer to the door, something - or rather someone - stops you. The figure, obviously a man, is leaning against the glass of the window display casually. He is smoking in the harsh wind as his hair flies all over the place. The leather jacket he has on is tight around his form and he looks absolutely amazing. You suck in your breath involuntarily, catching his attention.

A deep blush goes on your cheeks when he raises an eyebrow. "Mitchie Torres." He says in the same matter he did earlier. His voice is like the most beautiful thing in the world to your ears. So smooth. So deep. So suave. Instead of responding, you give him a tightlipped smile, hoping your face isn't very tearstained. Shane takes a deep drag from the cigarette, before taking the stick out of his mouth and letting the smoke leave his mouth almost sexily. He looks at you with dark eyes, before tilting his head to look at you. You squirm slightly, feeling as if he was judging you - almost as if you were naked and he was appraising you. "So, what are you doing in California?" he asks, clicking his tongue softly.

His hair flutters in front of his eyes and you heart skips a beat. You blink at him, remembering not to brush it back before it was too late. "Um, I-I…um… don't know, really. I thought I could make someone of myself, but… nothing's going right." You shake your head. His shoulders tense briefly before he brings the cigarette back to his mouth.

"Really?" he says, almost detachedly.

"Yeah." You whisper under your breath. Twice your mouth falls open to say something, until finally you just smile the smile he used to know. Forgetting the fact it has been years since you smiled like that, you move closer to him. His sensual eyes immediately snap onto you. "It's nice to see you Shane. It's been years. I… I always wondered about you. I always remembered you." You admit, almost to yourself, before shaking your head. "Well, I have to go hom-" you start, backing away but he stops you with a hand on your wrist.

His skin is so hot against yours; you feel like your insides are set on fire. Butterflies start clawing at your stomach as he steps towards you. "Why are you in California, Mitchie? To become famous? To become a singer? Is that why you found me tonight? To get you ahead in the business?" his tone is sharp but still slightly detached. Your eyes narrow hurtfully as your cheeks turn a light red. "You're that girl, aren't you, Mitchie? Still to this day. The user. The liar." He comes closer to you, his eyes glaring into yours. "Don't think I've forgotten." He breathes out, his breath hitting your lips.

You are momentarily frozen by the smell of smoke and something else as they invade your senses. "I'm not…" you whisper, shaking your head slightly. You are trying to defend yourself. You want to defend yourself. But he has taken over everything. His smell, his closeness, his attractiveness - they have all taken control of your brain.

"You're not?" he questions, a slight smirk on his lips as he shakes his head. "You're not the girl you were back then? It's funny how into you I was. A stupid little girl." He scoffs, before raising his hand to your cheek. Your mouth falls open as the insult makes your eyes widen. Suddenly, he comes even closer until his lips are millimeters apart from yours. You can feel his lips ever so slightly but they're so far away from you. Shane lightly brushes your lips together, not even kissing you. The burst of sexual tension that runs through you almost electrifies you. "I'm not yours to take this time, Mitchie Torres." He whispers against your lips before abruptly pulling away from you.

Suddenly, he is leaning against the window again as your cheeks redden as much as possible. You can barely breathe and you definitely do not know what to say. His eyes are darker than usual when they meet yours before he gives you a smirk. "Baby, you ready?" he calls out, his eyes never leaving yours. Shivers run up and down your body as you notice that his jacket lifts slightly when he takes a drag from his cigarette, revealing nice tan skin. His hip bone juts out slightly, begging for someone to touch it. "I want to leave." He continues, licking his lips slightly, still staring you in the eyes.

You lower your eyebrows in confusion, still breathing heavily, until you hear a voice reply back. "Hold your horses, Shane. I'm coming. We're going to your apartme…oh, hi?" the voice suddenly becoming a body. The heavy made up girl from before that you saw on stage is now fresh faced. She gives you a small smile before looking at Shane questioningly.

Shane laughs throatily, his eyes still on you. "She's an old fan of Connect Three. Cute, huh?" he says, almost condescendingly. The girl sucks in her breath before giving a knowing smile. She turns back to you before sticking out her hand.

"Well any fan of Shane's is a fan of mine. I'm Jade - his girlfriend." She says, as you look at her hand. You see her smile drop slowly as Shane raises his eyebrow. You swallow, looking away, before giving her a big fake smile. You take her hand in yours and shake it.

"Jade - I saw your perform. You were completely amazing. I'm Mitchie - the girl Shane just almost kissed. I'm going to leave now." You say in an obviously false chipper voice. Jade's eyes immediately flicker with hurt and you can practically see her heart fall to her stomach. Shane's eyes widen slightly and his mouth parts at you, but you hardly even notice with the way you flee the scene.

He deserved it anyways.

You are not that girl anymore.

At all.

XXX

This is my new story. I promise to God that I will stick to it. I hope you liked it =]

Sandy