Disclaimer: I'm only writing this thing once. I do not and never will own Camp Rock. In no way am I affiliated other than through this piece of fiction. Anything you read in here that bares a similiarity to the Camp Rock franchise does not belong to me.
July 19th, 2009: Yeah. This was broken. So I fixed it. I hope you guys enjoy it, if you haven't clicked on this story before. I'm going to attempt to clean up the last two to four chapters, and maybe I can actually get VIMH finished. As a Pyro original, I've always hated that I left this one unwritten.
You know those really annoying movies where strange occurrences go on, like, switching bodies? Those ones that seem so unlikely, but are fun to hear about anyway? Those ones that are just so enticing, so alluring, so…I don't know.
Well, I'd like to introduce you to my own bizarre, nonsensical tale. No, I didn't switch bodies with anyone. I didn't come back from the dead. If your thoughts are anything close to that, eliminate them now. Because it simply didn't happen that way.
Okay then, now I can begin explaining to you what happened. First of all, I'm not crazy. As insane as this might sound to you, I'm really not a psycho. I didn't have multiple voices in my head, telling me what to do.
Just one, actually.
And his name is Shane Gray.
Hardy har har. I bet you're rolling your eyes thinking that I really am clinically insane, because there's just no way that a pop star (oh, I'm sorry, Shane - rock star) would ever be in my head. Right?
No. Wrong! Because he was in my head. And I was in his. It's all...really a jumbled up mess to explain. I mean there was a physical connection going on, voices in heads, our future daughter. Yeah. As much as I'd like to explain that last one, I really can't. You'll have to just listen to me, otherwise you're simply going to think I'm crazy. And I'm not.
Anyways, it all started some time ago, I can't exactly pinpoint when. You know, you hear this agonizing voice in your head for so long and time just kind of blurs into this spectrum of pre and post Shane Gray. What I can tell you, though, is that it all started with a nightmare. Which, if you think about it, is really quite fitting.
"Mom," I had said at the time, "I think (yawn) I'm going to go to sleep, I'm really tired." I rubbed my eyes like a small child, causing my mom to erupt into a fit of laughter.
"Okay honey, go ahead. This can wait until tomorrow." She shook her head, returning to the menu she was filling out.
We had been planning my cousin's birthday at the time, going all out because it was her sixteenth. For my mom and my aunts, our sixteenth birthdays were massively important. Hugely important, like, catering and hundreds of guests important.
But I just couldn't stay up any longer. "Thanks mom…" I had stumbled for the stairs, making my way up groggily, grasping the handrail tightly. My eyelids were closing on me, and I struggled to stay awake. I made it to my room with minimal effort, falling onto my bed without bothering to change. Within seconds of my head hitting the pillow, I was asleep.
But I should have stayed awake.
In my dream, or nightmare, as I like to refer to it, I was standing in a dimly lit room. From what I could get out of it, it was a guy's room. It was painfully obvious, from the dark abstract colors, to the scantily clad women that adorned his walls.
Glancing around at what I supposed was his 'bachelor pad' I questioned, "What am I doing here?"
I didn't really understand why my subconscious would think up something like this. Even in my dream-like state, I doubted I could conjure up a scene like the one I was in. It simply wasn't in me.
But then, I heard a voice. A voice that sounded strangely familiar, but I couldn't tell from where though. I took a step closer, making out two figures. One was clearly female, I could tell from the way she was giggling. The other was male, the voice I had heard.
I froze, a blush rising up my neck as I heard, "Oh come on…take it off. You know you want to, " he said seductively, running his hand up and down her inner thigh.
I'm not an idiot. I know what he was doing, what they were about to do. I've taken health for Heaven's sake. I know about the birds and the bees, what happens when "two people become one". I just…didn't expect to get a front seat view from my own subconscious!
So you know what I did? I took a step closer. That's right! My teenage, hormonal side took over! A girl can't be curious?
Well, who are you to judge anyway?
So, I stood there, my curiosity getting the better of me. The girl, a blonde, was then underneath him, giggling. She ran a hand up and down his torso, saying, "Oh, Shane!"
So, that's what his name is, I thought to myself. I racked my brain for some kind of answer. Do I know a Shane?
And then the giggling stopped, startling me. Shane, and his little playmate, were staring right at me, a questioning look in his eye, a disappointed one in hers. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
I staggered. "Me?" I pointed at myself, not believing he was talking to me.
Stupid me, who else would he be talking to?
He rolled his eyes. "No. Not you." When I didn't say anything he screeched, "Yes you! What are you doing in my dream?"
My eyes widened at his question. "Your dream? This is your dream? Not mine?"
His eyebrows raised. "What do you think? Unless…" he tilted his head. "…do you have kinky dreams?"
I glared at him, a crimson blush rising to my cheeks. I was suddenly glad that the room was poorly lit.
That changed in a matter of seconds, as the blonde disappeared, and the room changed. Suddenly, we were standing in what I assumed was his kitchen. It was well lit enough to the point where I could see just who this Shane person was. Pop star Shane. Connect Three Shane. My crimson cheeks were then exposed to him.
He was standing not more than two feet away from me, close enough to reach out and touch me. He repeated, "What are you doing in my dream?"
"I…this is impossible! This is not your dream. It can't be. I'm going to wake up in a few minutes and then this will all seem silly." I nodded to confirm my thoughts.
"Right. Don't you watch movies? Do they ever wake up from dreams when they say they are?"
"Well…this isn't a movie! Stop trying to confuse me!" I paced. "And why aren't you freaking out about this?"
He shrugged, propping himself up on his counter. "I don't know, maybe because I know I'm in a dream." He smirked and egotistically continued, "I have the same one every time…"
I grimaced, disgusted by his male brain. "Well, if this is your dream, what am I doing here?"
And, you see...that's when I woke up. "What the hell was that?" I had said.
And then. Things got really weird.
A voice clearly not mine said, "Holy crap!"
Out loud, I said, "Who was that?"
"What are you doing in my head?" I heard.
I glanced around, looking for someone. My door was closed, and there wasn't any one there. 'What is going on?' I thought.
'You tell me!'
And that's when I freaked out, screaming my head off. 'I'm going insane…this is not happening…I'm not hearing voices in my head…Oh my God…this isn't happening…this isn't happening!'
'Will you shut up? You're giving me a headache! Who the hell are you?'
'Me? Who the hell are you?'
And, y'know, I think it was at that point in our conversation that I passed out.