Assisting the Heart

Chapter 1- The new PA

Last Updated- 11/6/2008

Author- Angel17712

Disclaimer- I do not own any of the characters of Camp Rock. The only characters that I own are Leslie and Mrs. Stephenson, who are my own creations.

Summary- AU. Shane never got sent to Camp Rock, and is more of a jerk than ever. Will Mitchie be able to do her job without cracking, or will she fall for the guy that lives to run her ragged?

Author's Notes- Okay, I mentioned in the summary that this story is AU, which is correct. Mitchie still went to Camp Rock, but Shane was never sent there, meaning that he is still very much a jerk. Will they or won't they get together? I've already figured that out, but I'm not saying a word. That is up to you to decide. When this story starts, Mitchie is 20 and Shane is 22. If you have any questions, feel free to contact me. Hope you all enjoy this!

A/N 2- I want to dedicate this first chapter to Enigmaforum, who is absolutely awesome! Thank you so much for being my sounding board for this story! -hugs- To everyone else who was my sounding board as well, y'all are great!


Mitchie took a deep breath before grasping the handle and pushing it gently down before pulling the door open to enter the office. Noises like phones ringing, voices talking, and staplers clicking assaulted her ears, making her release the breath she'd been holding in a slow huff. Tightening her hold on her things, she stepped forward to the desk, thankful that there was no one there.

The dark skinned woman at the desk lifted her head and smiled when she saw the young girl approaching. "Mitchie! How are you today, dear?"

A smile lit up Mitchie's face, making her feel a bit easier. Mrs. Stephenson was one of her favorite people by far that she'd had to deal with since before getting into college UCLA. "I'm doing great, thanks for asking. I'm here to turn in my internship application and other forms that you gave to me a few days ago."

"Well, you certainly wasted no time in bringing them back, so I thank you for that, hon," came the reply as she took the offered information. Mrs. Stephenson looked over each page with an eye for detail, making sure that everything was taken care of, not wanting there to be any issues. "All right, Mitchie, I think we're good. The only thing I need from you is a headshot that I'll send along with your resume and profile out to people who want interns with your interests in mind, all right?"

"Oh, sure. Um, no problem," Mitchie replied. She carefully set her bag down on the floor and hoped that her hair was fine before moving where the older woman wanted her to stand. One cue and a flash later, and Mitchie's photo was taken, with Mrs. Stephenson in a bit of awe.

"In all my years here, I don't think I've ever seen anyone take that nice of a photo before."

Mitchie grinned. "It sorta reminded me of getting my picture taken when I went to go get my permit and then my license. You just hope that it doesn't turn out completely horrible."

"I know that feeling. All right, so that's done. Here's your slip telling you what we accomplished, and you're good to go. I wish you luck with your internship, dear," Mrs. Stephenson called out as Mitchie turned to leave.

"Thank you! Have a great day!" Mitchie called over her shoulder, heaving a sigh, feeling happy that what she had come to do was done.

A figure sat in a desk chair behind an oak desk, his curly head leaning backwards, relaxing and grateful for the silence. Jason, band mate number one and the now only slightly airheaded guy, was out with his girlfriend, Ella. Band mate number two, Shane, was most likely either complaining about the fact that his clothes hadn't been washed right or that his room hadn't been cleaned correctly. "Either one of those two or something else entirely," mumbled Nate to himself. He could care less what Shane was doing so long as he wasn't bothered. He'd sent off Connect 3's current PA, Leslie, off to get profiles and resumes from the nearby colleges that had hopeful interns looking to apply. "God only knows that we need someone else to deal with the overflow of crap that Shane shovels out all day long," he said, shaking his head as he remembered how demanding his friend and band mate could be. If it wasn't one thing, then it was the other that he needed to have done.

A knock on the door and a head poking in disrupted his thoughts. "Mr. Thompson?"

Nate smiled and waved her in. "Come on in, and remember, it's just Nate, okay?"

Leslie blushed a deep red. "All right, Nate. So, I dropped by all of the surrounding colleges and picked up the internship applications that they had for anyone that was interested in the music field. I also had some sent in from other colleges. I hope that that's okay," she said as she placed a large stack of folders on his desk.

"No, no, it's great. This is awesome and thank you so much for doing this." Nate glanced at his watch and saw that it was nearing 5:30 p.m. "Tell you what, head on home. We don't have anything planned for tonight, thankfully. It's early, and anything that one of us needs, I'm sure we can take care of it. If there's a major emergency, one of us will give you a call."

"Oh, thank you! I owe you one, Nate."

"You don't owe me anything. Just make sure you're here tomorrow on time and we're good," he told her with a smile.

"I'll be here at 9 a.m. sharp," she replied before leaving the office and shutting the door behind her.

He exhaled a breath before looking at the high stack of folders and wrinkling his nose. 'Because this is going to be so much fun, picking out one, maybe two people at the most, to be interns to take care of all the extra stuff that Leslie can't take care of. Here goes nothing,' he thought to himself as he grabbed the first folder. One glance at the resume and profile made him shut it quickly with a grimace. "Maybe the next one," he murmured as he picked up the topmost folder. He glanced at the resume and shook his head. "Next." He continued to pick up folder after folder, looking at the contents inside before shaking his head yes or no and deciding where to put the folder.

After nearly forty-five minutes of looking at applications, a voice downstairs traveled up to his ears, making him smile gratefully. He picked up all three stacks of folders and put them together in one pile in his arms before leaving his office and heading down the stairs quietly. A dirty-blonde colored head was poking above the top of the couch, making him grin. He quietly snuck up behind the couch before pouncing.

"Boo!"

"ACK!" came the shriek in reply, making him laugh even as he moved into the line of fire of the person he'd just scared. The folders were placed on the table, and just as he'd thought, a pillow was launched at his head, forcing him to use his hands as a shield against the oncoming object. He managed to catch the pillow before it hit the floor and flopped down on the couch next to his girlfriend and one of the band's main producers, Caitlyn Gellar.

"Please don't scare me like that in the future unless you want me to kick your ass, okay?"

"Well, hello to you, too."

She giggled a bit before resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. Had to razz you a bit there, couldn't resist. How are you? How'd your day go?"

"You mean other than Shane driving our PA insane with his demands and me practically losing my mind? It wasn't too bad," he replied sarcastically.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes. "You know, one of these days, I'm going to shove my foot up that boys' ass."

Nate snickered. "I can't wait till that happens, baby."

Caitlyn grinned evilly. "Oh, don't worry. It might happen no matter what. What's that you got there?" she asked, indicating the files on the table in front of them.

He sighed before turning slightly to answer her. "I have over a hundred people to choose from to be a new intern for Connect 3, and I can only choose one of them. So far, all of them either aren't qualified enough, or they have a record of some sort. I haven't found anyone yet that's good enough."

"Mind if I take a look? Help you out?" she asked as she leaned forward.

"No, not at all. Be my guest." She grabbed the stack of folders and began to browse through them, making remarks to herself at times. Nearly halfway through the stack, she saw a familiar face and grinned before holding the folder out to show him. "What about this one?"

Nate took the folder and looked at the photo that was attached before checking the resume in the pocket. He heaved a sigh before turning to his girlfriend. "She doesn't have a record or anything and her resume looks great, but I don't know, babe."

"Please? She seems like she'd be cut out for the job," Caitlyn asked with a tiny smirk.

"Wait. Why do I somehow get the feeling that you know her?"

"Because I do," Caitlyn said triumphantly. "She and I met at Camp Rock and became best friends. I know she might not have a ton of qualifications, but I know she'd be good."

"Think she'd be able to handle Mr. Egotistical himself? Because there are some days where even I can barely do that," he retorted.

"Trust me. I know her. We've kept in close touch since camp, and I know that she'd do an awesome job at this. Please?"

A pout broke out on her face as she straddled in his lap, making him groan. "Caitlyn, I have to really think about this. I can't just--" A moan escaped from his lips as she began to place tiny kisses and bites on his neck as she slowly moved toward his ear.

"Just promise me that you'll have her come in for an interview and give her a serious chance. That's all I'm asking," she whispered throatily, making him groan.

"You're killing me here, you evil woman," he said through gritted teeth.

"Kinda the plan. What's it gonna be, Mr. Businessman? Yes or no?" she asked before finding the one spot on his neck that she knew he wouldn't be able to say no to and began to lave at it with her tongue.

"Uggh. Fine, you win."

"Mmm, I love winning," she replied with a sultry grin before capturing his lips with her own. The pair was caught up in a passionate kiss, not noticing one of Nate's bandmates and friends, Shane, enter the room.

"Do you guys mind moving that somewhere else? I'd really rather not be scarred for life by the sight of you two getting ready to screw each other silly on the couch," he said with annoyance, only receiving a middle finger from Caitlyn in response. "No thanks, I don't have a death wish."

Grinning inwardly, she continued to kiss her boyfriend, noting that he was in no rush to stop what they were doing, either. She let out a long moan, knowing that it would drive Shane nuts to hear it. The gagging noise that they both heard confirmed her thoughts, making them part, both trying to catch their breath.

"Problem, Shane?" Caitlyn asked breathlessly.

"Uh, yeah. You two about ready to bone each other on my couch," he retorted.

"Technically, it's Nate's couch, so if we want to have sex on it, then we will. And don't even try to tell me that you haven't ever kissed any of your floozies on it," she replied with a triumphant grin.

Shane rolled his eyes. "Whatever, fine. Do either of you know where the PA is? Um, Lara? Carrie?"

"You mean Leslie, the girl that I hired after you fired the last PA?" Nate spoke up heatedly.

"Yeah, her. Where is she?"

"I gave her the rest of the day off. God only knows that she has enough of your shit to deal with on a day-to-day basis," Nate shot back.

"Gee, thanks. I wanted her to go out and get me a coffee," he said childishly.

"Wow, isn't that such a shame. Shane Gray has to actually go out and fetch his own coffee, or somehow manage to figure out how to operate a coffeemaker. It's such a travesty," Caitlyn mocked, her hand on her head as she pretended to swoon.

He rolled his eyes and flipped the middle finger at her over his shoulder as he left the room. "No, thanks. I'm really not interested, and I already have a boyfriend," she called out with a grin.

"So back to this whole intern thing. Did you see anyone else that looked good?" Nate asked.

Caitlyn sighed before picking up the rest of the folders. She took a few moments to look through the rest of them before shaking her head. "Honestly? Not really. And no, just for the record, I'm not just saying this because I know Mitchie and she's my friend. I think she'd be really good at this job. She'd be committed, on time, and extremely loyal. I know you'd be able to count on her, and she doesn't take crap from anybody, the last time I checked."

"Something I'm sure she got from you," he said with a grin.

"Mmmm, maybe," she replied with a grin.

"All right, I'll give her a call and ask her to come over here tomorrow for an interview. How does that sound?"

"Is it okay if I'm here? Please? I'd love to see her again," Caitlyn asked with her specifically made "Nate" pout.

He groaned and nodded. "All right, you can be here, but I'm not making any guarantees about her getting the job the second she walks in the door of when she leaves. I gotta think about it, okay?"

"Okay," she said with a nod as she stood up and pulled him up with her. "Go on. You've got a phone call to make."


Mitchie took a deep breath to calm her nerves as she pulled into the driveway of the large two-story brick house where the gentlemen of Connect 3 lived. She parked her ruby red 2006 Pontiac Grand Am before grabbing her bag that was on the seat next to her, getting out of her car, and hitting the button to lock it. A beep came from the vehicle, assuring her that it was locked, as she began to make her way up the driveway, noticing the other cars in the driveway. She noticed one in particular, a blue 2007 Saturn Skye convertible, that she'd definitely seen before that had been driven by a very good, close friend of hers that she'd met years before. Not wanting to get her hopes up, she just assumed that it could have been someone else's. A pleasant smile made its way onto her lips as she walked to the front door, ringing the doorbell.

As she waited for someone to let her in, she remembered the phone call that she'd gotten just the day before from one Nate Thompson.

"Hello?" she asked as she picked up the phone, not noticing the number on the Caller ID.

"Hi. Is Mitchie Torres available?" a voice inquired.

"This is she. Who is this?" she requested to know, slightly scared that someone was calling her and she had no idea who it was.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, Ms. Torres. My name is Nate Thompson, and I'm one of the members of Connect 3."

"Oh.......oh! Hi, Mr. Thompson! Er.....Nate! Ummm…how can I help you?" she inquired, trying to calm herself down.

"Actually, I'm the one that is calling to ask for your help. I received your internship information along with many other applicants, and I'm in need of an intern to do work for myself and my two bandmates. I've looked over your profile and information, and I was wondering if you'd like to come in for an interview."

"Ye-yeah. Yes! I'd love to! Thank you for calling me and making me this offer."

"It was my pleasure. Tell you what, I'm going to hand you over to our PA, and she'll give you the address and directions on how to get here. I'll see you tomorrow morning, eleven a.m. sharp."

"I'll be there. Thank you again, Mr. Thompson," she replied.

"It's Nate, and you're welcome," were his last words to her before the PA came on the line.

She hadn't expected for her internship resume and profile to be given to any big hotshots, let alone Connect 3, one of the hottest Pop sensations on the music market. Her emotions were more jumbled up than a ball of rubber bands at this point; she was excited, nervous, happy, scared, you name it, she was probably feeling it. She took another deep breath and exhaled to calm herself down, looking down at herself to make sure she looked proper. Her white blouse and navy blue jacket were both pressed, her skirt that she had on going to her knees with not a wrinkle in sight, and her black heels had just been shined recently. She nodded to herself, pleased that everything about her appearance was fine. 'Now all I just have to do is try not to make an idiot out of myself in front of the three of them, and I'll be fine. I think,' she thought to herself.

The door swung open to reveal a girl that looked to be nearly her age or possibly a bit older dressed in a woman's dress suit and sandals.

"Hi! You must be Mitchie. I'm Leslie, Connect 3's PA. Nate told me you were coming," Leslie introduced, holding her hand out.

Mitchie shook hands with Leslie, following the PA when she was waved in. She closed the door behind her, taking in the large house. The entryway was simple with white walls until you walked into the living room, which was a pale shade of yellow. Furniture was set up in the room around a coffee table and the television, with the large dining room and kitchen nearby, the walls being white for both rooms. The front room, a sort of sitting room, looked like it was used to entertain people when they visited, the furniture looking as though it had barely been used and the walls painted a dark burgundy.

A voice coming from the nearby intercom snapped her out of her reverie. "Leslie! Is Ms. Torres here yet?"

"She just arrived, boss. I'm bringing her up now," Leslie replied as she pressed the button. She released it before waving to Mitchie. "Come on, the office is upstairs."

The pair walked in silence up the stairs until Leslie spoke. "He's only asked me if you were here yet ten times. He seemed a bit nervous and very stressed."

"Is he okay?"

"Oh, he's all right. He's just a bit stressed out from this whole process. He had a few other people come in, but so far, it doesn't sound like he's hired anyone for the job. To me, you look like the best person that we've had all day. Everyone's either been a total idiot or a complete witch, and that's saying something."

Mitchie laughed slightly. "Has he told you anything about what kind of work I'll be doing?"

"Not really. I'm gonna take a guess that it's all of the overflow stuff that I never manage to get done, due to pain in the rear end that is Shane Gray," Leslie replied with a roll of her eyes.

"Shane Gray? How demanding are we talking?" Mitchie asked curiously.

"Oh, you name it, he's asked for it. He wants only the best, and makes sure that that is what he gets. He's arrogant and hard to work for, so you'll have your work cut out for you, I'm sure," Leslie told her nicely. "Here we are."

Leslie opened a door, revealing a modestly furnished office with someone sitting behind the desk that Mitchie assumed was Nate. And in one of the chairs across from him sat….

"Oh my god! Caitlyn?!?"

"Hey!" Caitlyn waved happily as she jumped up and ran over to greet her friend.

"What are you doing here? I saw your car in the driveway, but I wasn't sure if it was you or not," Mitchie replied, not nearly as nervous as she was before.

"It's a bit of a long story, and we'll chat later, because I know you're here for your interview with Nate," Caitlyn replied, hugging her friend.

"Thanks for bringing her up, Leslie. Do you mind having Jason come up here so he can meet Mitchie?" Nate requested politely.

"Sure thing. I'll have him come up in a bit."

"Leslie, can you get me some coffee please?" came a disgruntled voice from the speaker on the wall in the office.

The young girl rolled her eyes. "Sure, give me just a few minutes and I'll have it up to you."

There was no thank you from the male on the other end, making Leslie just growl in frustration and shake her head before shutting the door behind her.

"Come on in, Mitchie. Please, sit down," Nate asked, indicating the chair on the other side of his desk.

Mitchie swallowed before sitting down as he'd asked, placing her bag on the floor. She glanced around the office, noting that it had a bit of a homey yet business-like feel. She grinned when her eyes fell upon one of her best friends that she'd met and befriended at Camp Rock. The pair had met there and had become fast friends, playing in the Final Jam together and coming close to winning.

"So, Mitchie, I've been looking over your profile and resume. It says here that you're currently enrolled at UCLA and you're there to obtain your bachelor's degree in music, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

Nate chuckled a bit. "It's all right, Mitchie. You can call me Nate, I'm not going to get mad at you if you do. 'Sir' makes me feel very old."

"Okay, Nate it is."

"I have to ask you: do you think you're cut out for this job?" he asked, looking directly at her.

"With all due respect Nate, I'm not even entirely sure as to what my job is. I mean, I know that I'm most likely one of many that you've had come in for an interview, but I have no idea as to what I'm going to exactly be doing," she answered honestly, shrugging her shoulders.

"Well, it's going to be pretty basic. You'll be doing anything that Leslie can't manage to get done, whether it's picking up dry cleaning, getting coffee, buying groceries, taking care of setting up our schedules, you name it," he replied.

"All right. Then yes, I do think that I'm cut out for this job. I believe that I can do this job efficiently and I have no desire to turn against you or either of the other members of Connect 3," she told him confidently.

"That's good to hear. There is actually something that I want to talk to you about, and I want to wait till—" The sound of the office door opening cut him off.

"You rang?" Jason said teasingly.

"No, I didn't ring. I asked Leslie if she could tell you I needed to see you," Nate replied in annoyance.

"Exactly! You rang!" Jason retorted, rolling his eyes.

"Guys!" Caitlyn interrupted.

"Sorry," both of them said.

"Do they do this a lot?" Mitchie whispered to Caitlyn.

"All the time," her friend replied.

"No, we don't," Nate shot back, glaring slightly at his girlfriend. "Anyhow, Mitchie, this is Jason. Jason, this is Mitchie. She's going to be working with us, sort of like a second personal assistant."

"Well, let's just hope that Shane doesn't fire her for doing something wrong," Jason quipped, rolling his eyes.

"What do you m-mean?" Mitchie asked nervously.

"Shane, our friend and band mate, has a tendency to fire the personal assistants that we hire, usually for not doing something exactly as he wants it to be done," Jason supplied.

"How many has he fired?" she asked.

"He's fired at least forty of them," Nate answered. "We lost count awhile ago."

"Oh, I see," Mitchie said nervously.

"That's why I wanted Jason to come up here, for two reasons. The first was so he could meet you, and the second was to ask him something. Jason, come here for a sec," Nate waved him over as he stood up. Jason walked over to his friend and the two whispered behind a folder for a moment before agreeing.

"Finally! I think that sounds great!" Jason agreed excitedly.

"What is it?" Caitlyn asked.

"Well, I asked him if he'd be okay with something and he said yes. Mitchie, seeing as how Shane has been the one firing the assistants that we hire, the only way that you can be fired is if you quit. How does that sound?"

"Wait, hold on a minute. What about you and Jason? Neither of you want to fire me?" she asked worriedly.

"Oh, please. You're fine. Nate likes you, his girlfriend is your friend, I think you're pretty cool, and I can't wait to hear what Shane says when he hears this!" Jason grinned evilly.

Mitchie smiled back, taking a minute to process everything that she'd just learned. The only way she would lose her job was if she quit, and she didn't intend on leaving until she had finished her internship, which was at least a year, if not more. She looked up at Nate and Jason before nodding confidently. "All right, that sounds great. I'm just a little confused. Does this mean that I have the internship?" she queried.

Nate held out his hand. "Welcome to Connect 3."

Mitchie shook his hand happily. "Thank you so much, you have no idea."

"I think I do. Just make sure that you're here on time tomorrow morning, nine a.m."

"I will!" Mitchie said confidently as she grabbed her bag and walked to the door before opening it, only to be met by the sound of an upset voice.

"Wh-what did I d-do? I-i made it j-j-just right," Leslie stuttered through her tears.

"For starters, you didn't put enough sugar in it, the cream tastes like it's spoiled, and the water is scalding hot! How am I supposed to sing if my vocal chords have been burned because you didn't do what I asked? Now, are you going to get your things and leave or will I have to have you thrown out?" Shane barked.

Leslie swallowed hard and brushed at her tears before taking a deep breath. "No, I can get my own things, you asshole!" she retorted before swinging her hand back and letting it connect with his cheek. The audible crack made everyone excluding Shane and Leslie gasp aloud. "And don't even think of trying to sue me! I have connections all over this state and I'll win against you in a heartbeat!" she hissed before pushing past him to stomp down the stairs.

Snapping out of the haze that he was in, Nate glared at his friend. "What the hell did you just do?"

"I fired her," Shane said simply, rubbing at his cheek that was now adorned with a handprint.

"Yeah, we kinda all got that. You fired her because she didn't make your coffee right?!"

"Oh, she'll get over it. She'll find another job as someone else's PA," he retorted snottily, still rubbing at his jaw.

"You know, if it had been me, I'd have kicked your ass," Caitlyn replied with a grin.

"Fuck you, Caitlyn," Shane growled.

"Excuse me! Don't ever speak to her like that again, do you understand me?" Mitchie called out, her chest heaving in anger.

"Who the hell are you?"

"She's our new PA," Nate informed him.

"Oh, good. Well, so long as you're the new PA, let me inform you that I'll do or say whatever I want without you saying anything to me about it. Now, do you think you can run along and get me some ice?" he said snidely.

"Let me think about that……no," Mitchie replied, shaking her head.

"What?"

"You heard me. I'm not your maid, and you had better be pretty damn grateful that I didn't leave a matching mark on the other side of your face for saying that to my friend. The last time I checked, you have legs that work, so you can get your own ice."

"I'm your boss, and you're the new personal assistant. I didn't ask for you to tell me no," he growled, standing nose to nose with her.

Mitchie gave him a sickeningly sweet smile before turning to face the man who'd just hired her. "Nate, am I on the clock yet?"

"Not until you start work tomorrow," he told her with a grin.

"Thanks," she said politely, turning back to face Shane. "Sorry, Mr. Gray. Looks like you're on your own, but I'm pretty sure that the icemaker in your freezer works and that you know how to use that to get what you need. Have a nice night," she told him before turning on her heel and walking down the stairs.

"I love that girl!" Jason cried out happily.

The moment the front door shut behind Mitchie, Shane rounded on Nate and exploded. "Okay. What the hell was that?"

"What do you mean?" Nate asked, feigning innocence.

"I mean that! Who the hell is she, and why is she our new PA? And why did you let her talk to me like that?" Shane fumed, barely keeping his control in check.

"Which one do you want me to answer first?" Nate replied, a grin on his face. The glare that Shane gave him only made him have to try to stave off any laughter before it bubbled to the surface. "Her name is Mitchie Torres, and she's doing her internship with us. She'll be working for and with us, at least a year or possibly more, it depends. And hey, you were the one who insulted her friend, who's also my girlfriend. You just better be thankful that I didn't decide to knock your lights out either," Nate told him coolly before walking down the stairs, Caitlyn and Jason behind him.

Shane exhaled sharply before placing both of his hands on the wooden banister next to him, the urge to break something becoming stronger and stronger by the minute. He took some deep breaths, attempting to calm himself down, before an insane grin took over his face. He knew exactly what he could do! He'd do the same thing with her that he'd done with every other PA that had somehow managed to botch things up: he'd look for the smallest reason to fire her, and he knew that it wouldn't be long before she'd be gone, never to darken his doorway again. He almost gleefully walked into his room, shutting the door behind him, ready to put his plan into action the next day.