Flutter

I’m your biggest fan
I’ll follow you until you love me
Papa-Paparazzi
Paparazzi-LadyGaga
June 11, 2010
2:25 PM
Molly and Mickie’s Room at City Center Plaza-Chicago, Illinois

I was so shocked. At first, I didn’t speak.

“Whoa there, killer,” Nick said, grabbing my phone out of my hand. “You okay?”

“What are you doing here?” Seriously. Thatwas my GENIUS answer.

“I was coming to tell you that we’re all heading down to lunch…but I got a little more than I bargained for.” He gave me a small smile, and ran his hand through his hair. I crossed my arms, realizing for the first time that I was wearing a white shirt, and my wet hair was dripping right across my chest. Did I mention I was also wearing a cheetah print bra? Yeah, didn’t think so.

“What…what do you mean?” I reached for my phone, and he lunged back, holding it above his head.

“You’re the one who was singing the other day,” he stated. It wasn’t a question. There was no hint of wondering. He knew. “I heard you in the shower. The entire thing. About cinematic romances, and giving everything away.”

“Your point?” I was trying to brush it off. Trying to act like it wasn’t a huge deal, and I wasn’t freaking out. But I was. Oh, I was. He knew. Nick knew. So not only did Demi, Molly, Garrett, Tanner, AJ and Brendan know, but so did Nick, and probably his brothers too, once Nick decided to tell them. I lunged for the phone again. He took a step back, closer to the bed.

“My point?” He gave me a look, and stuck the phone in his back pocket. “Mickie, you can sing. Really well. Probably one of the best voices I’ve heard in a while.” I knew I was blushing. But hey, I’m a Prescot. We’re embarrassed easily. “And you didn’t tell me,” he added quietly, hitching one hand on his jean pocket. I try and turn behind him, reaching for my phone, but he’s too fast for me, and turns around. I try again, and he does the same thing.

“Why does it matter?”

“Mickie, it matters to me! You shouldn’t hide talent like that.” I scoff.

“Talent? Nick, I was singing in the shower. Everyone sounds better in the shower.”

“Shower or not,” he says. “You sounded amazing. And I’m not going to let you hide it.” I make another grab at his back pocket. I really needed my phone. Because not only did it have conversations with Demi and Molly about, well, everything, but if Nick just so happened to go under voice memos, he might find a recording of every single song I’ve ever written, all of which I’d made in the last week. I mentally kicked myself for not setting a password on it. “Ohh, trying to make a grab at my ass, eh?” I stepped back, shocked.

“Did Nick Jonas just say the word ass?” I asked, serious. I’d heard Nick say two cuss words this entire trip; hell and damn. Joe, of course, had muttered both of those words, along with ten other obscenities, when he’d stubbed his toe on a chair leg that morning at breakfast.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said, smirking. I leaned back.

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me either.”

“Oh, come on, Mickie. We’re not comparing you being able to sing to my cussing.”

“Just give me the phone, Nick.”

“What’s so special about it?” He raised an eyebrow, and pulled it out of his pocket. I made a grab for it, and he stepped back, hitting the bed. I heard it unlock when he slid his finger across the screen. “Stupid text messages?” I shook my head and jumped for it, and he held it over our heads, looking up. “Naughty pictures, perhaps?” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way I would have expected from his brother, and I felt a rush of blood into my face, and rolled my eyes.

“In your dreams.”

“Maybe.” I was shocked, again. But only momentarily. I jumped again, and he sifted through the pages on my phone, and then, to my surprise, hopped up on the bed, still standing. I blinked. “Now lets see…pictures…nah. Text messages?”

“No!” I jumped up onto the bed, and did the first thing I could think of. Tackled him. He fell with an “oomph” onto the mattress, his head conveniently on the pillows, and I made a grab for the phone on his side. He move it to his other hand and held it over his head. “You are SO not fair!” I huffed, and without thinking, moved my leg across his waist. I looked down, and realized I was straddling him.

And he laughed.

“Geeze, Mickie.” He held the phone out as far as he could. “What’s so bad that you’d try and seduce me to get to?” I rolled my eyes.

“This,” I gestured between us. “is not seducing. This is me trying to get my fucking phone back, and I’m not a small girl, so this seems to be the only way to do it.”

“Are you sure? Cause this looks like seducing to me.” He smirked.

“You wanna see seducing?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. I don’t know why I did it, I really don’t. But something inside of me just…snapped. He was pissing me off, and after the couple of times I’d been shocked or ambushed, I wanted to get him back. Seriously. I wasn’t usually like this. “If I wanted to seduce you,” I said thoughtfully, laying my hands on his grey-tee-shirt-clad chest. “I wouldn’t just do this.” I gestured between us, and then, slowly, trailed my finger up to his collar and back. “I’d do this.” I did that a few times, and then leaned forward, tucking my hair behind my ear, and putting my mouth next to his ear. I know. I was acting like a slut. I have no idea why it came over me. Don’t ask! “And this,” I said in his ear, and noticed that my voice had taken on a husky undertone. And then, I blew lightly in his ear. I saw his eyes widen out of the corner of mine, and smiled to myself. See, there’s a shocker for him.

“Mickie,” he breathed out. “You…are…” I sat back up and looked at him.

“Are what?” He smiled at me, and then moved his arm, the one holding my phone up.

“Are still not getting your phone.” His arm moved again, and he pulled his shirt out from under my arm, and then shoved his phone under it, pulling it down before I had a chance to put my hand back.

“Oh no you don’t!” I laughed, and tried to pull his shirt back up. I got a flash of his abs, his tanned, toned abs, and almost paused, but regained my composed and stuck my hand under his shirt, trying to feel for my phone. He laughed and tried to pull my arm out, and I swatted at him with my free hand, still managing to balance on his waist, moving slowly backwards as I bent down, basically groping at his abs and chest (I know!) until I found it. Finally, I grasped the square hunk of plastic, and pulled it out, holding it over his head ruefully. “Ha!” I said, shaking it, and then throwing it on Molly’s bed before he could make a reach for it. He laughed and made a grab for my arms, and grasped my hands, trying to push me off of him. I planted my knees into the bed. “Not so fast,” I said, shoving him back down. “You, sir, stole my phone. And there’s a price to pay for that!” My hands, free from his grasp, moved, one to his chest and one to his neck, and started tickeling. He squirmed under me, and tried to swat at my hands. I laughed maliciously. “You are such a pansy, Jonas!” I cackled, reaching behind his neck and tickling there. I knew it was a weak spot for him; I’d seen Frankie do it the other day.

“Oh, I’m a pansy?” he managed to say between laughs. And then, like a freakin’ ninja, he grabbed my hands mid tickle, and started doing the same thing to my stomach, not daring to go up, as he would have hit my chest. I gasped for air and swatted at him, leaning back. And that’s when it happened; I hit something. Something hard. I gasped and sat forward, falling to where I was bracing myself with my hands on either side of Nick’s chest. My still wet hair fell in his face slightly, and I looked down at him.

Nick. Had. A. Boner.

Holy. Crap.

He met my eye, and suddenly, I rolled off of him. Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap. Nick. Nick Jonas. He had a freakin’ boner. Because of ME. Oh. My God. He sat, dumbfounded for a second, and then looked down, trying to figure out why I looked so surprised, probably. He saw what I was staring wide-eyed at, and reached back to grab a pillow.

“Mickie!” he said, wide eyed. “It’s not what you think!”

“Uh, I think all pitched tents look alike, thanks.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he narrowed his eyes, and smacked one hand to his forehead. “I mean…Ugh.” He stood up, throwing the pillow on the bed. “I should go.”

“Yeah, I think you should,” I said, crossing my arms again and pushing my hair out of my face, looking down to hide the enormous blush flooding my face. Without saying anything else, he walked out of the room, the door closing with a soft click.

Thoughts were racing through my mind at a million miles a minute. I sat back on the bed, one hand holding my hair out of my face, the other resting on my chest. I could feel my heart; it was still beating faster than usual, like it generally did when Nick was close to me.

Had that really just happened? Had I really pretended to seduce one of the worlds biggest celebrities in an attempt to get my phone back? And had he really gotten a boner? Like, a full on hard-on. Because of me? Because I was doing something to make him…aroused? How was that even possible?

I mean, sure, it’d happened a few times before; freshman year, with an awkward junior I’d decided to date (I have no idea how that happened, both the relationship, and…you know), and then later that very same year, with Drew, the asshole who shoved his tongue down my throat before we even went on a date.

But this was Nick Jonas. He was…well, him. Mr. Stay Pure Till Marriage, with his band of merry, virgin, sainted brothers following behind. Granted, I wasn’t much better. I was still a virgin, something I couldn’t say for a lot of my friends (that weren’t Rosie or Lissy), and I hated it when guys tried to act like getting in a girls pants was the easiest thing in the world. But I also had done things before; not everything, but I wasn’t exactly the most wholesome girl ever. And as far as I knew, Nick had done the same things with Miley and/or Selena.

And yet I was still completely and utterly flabbergasted.

June 13, 2010
10:55 AM
Inside the Blue Bus-Ann Arbor, Michigan

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” Demi said between giggles. “This guy sang Bad Romance in your window? For Rosie?” I nodded, cracking up.

“In all seriousness!” I screeched out. “I thought I was going to die. It was her favorite song of the week, and so he came up to my window with a portable speaker and a mic and started singing. It was the funniest thing ever.” Demi, Kat and Molly all rolled with laughter as we sat on the couch, sharing sad and pathetic wooing techniques we’d seen in the past.

“Oh, god,” Demi said, wiping at her eyes. “It’s been so long since I’ve laughed that hard.”

“What’s the punch line?” Joe asked, sitting down on the other side of Demi at the same time Nick sat down next to me. Molly looked between the both of us, and then stood up.

“I think I’m gonna go talk to Tanner!” she said, a little too chipper. And then walked off. Leaving me sitting next to Nick. I scooched over, and pressed my arm into Demi’s.

“Just insulting man-kind and your hilarious tactics for getting girls back,” she said, pecking Joe on the lips.

“Lucky I haven’t had to do that,” Joe returned with a grin. I glanced at Nick and he was smiling at the happy couple, a hint of jealousy in his eyes. I raised an eyebrow and looked down at my phone, which vibrated in my lap.

Aria: 911!!! Dressmaker used the wrong buttons on Olivia’s dress!

My hand cradled my forehead as I shook my head, about to laugh. For the last two days, I’d been receiving panicky texts like this from Aria. With her wedding date steadily approaching in a little over two months, dresses were starting to trickle in, flowers were being arranged, and cakes were being designed, all without her maid of honor at her side.

When she’d first asked me to be her MOH, I thought I heard her wrong. Seriously. I thought she was asking Liv to be. But apparently…as tradition goes, especially in a house like ours, with religious parents, the maid of honor needs to be…well, just that. A maid. IE, not married. And both of my older sisters were. I’d figured she would ask her best friend, Sarah, who still lived in London, to be her maid of honor. But she picked me. To my utter disbelief.

I’d missed movies and parties and birthdays in favor of fittings and appointments and planning days. I’d even gone with her to pick out the venue, which happened to be the Palomar, where we’d done our first official photoshoot days before. All of her friends and our family was flying in from different areas; Jersey, London, Manchester, and the small area in Italy where my dad was going to pick up his parents, Salerno. We’d picked out the color scheme (Black and Pink, which at first I’d thought was odd, but after seeing it all coming together looked great), tasted cakes, and I’d even picked out the dresses and accessories for not only the rest of the bridal party, but Aria herself. Her dress was a gorgeous Vera Wang from a boutique in Dallas called Stardust Bridal (she was the only one of the Prescot sisters so far to wear a Vera; Liv and Ren both have hips like me), with light pink and white Swarovski detailing at the waist. She looked…amazing in it. Terry was a lucky (and loaded) guy.

In the back of my mind, wedding stuff was always ticking away. Especially since last week’s small issue with Bridal Shower invites. I’d planned the event, well, a month ago, and picked the invites out. But instead of matching the color scheme of the wedding, they were a god awful shade of tangerine and brown. Aside from the bridal shower, it was also a combined baby shower for Liv, who’s two best friends from London were coming in for the wedding as well.

“What’s wrong?” Nick asked, leaning over to try and read my text.

“Personal space, hun.” I pushed him back, and then responded to the text with a quick “Are they the same color as the dress?” “My sister’s getting married in August.”

“Whoa.” Nick sat back. “Seriously? I thought you only had one little sister.”

“Four.”

“You’ve got foursisters?” he asked in disbelief. I nodded.

“Yep. Ren, Liv, Aria and Libby. You met Libs at the concert. Ren lives in New York with her husband and daughter, Olivia. Liv’s married and lives with her husband in Southlake; she’s pregnant with twins. Aria is the one getting married…she’s, well, she’s probably my closest sibling.” I laughed and looked back at my phone. “She got me through the tough years; with Libby and mom.” Nicked raised an eyebrow, but he looked sympathetic. My phone vibrated again. Twice.

Aria: Yes. But they’re still wrong!

Rosie: Just got Aria’s text. Want me to go with her to the dress shop and get it fixed? BTW, Nick still creepin??
Rosie had been helping since day one. Even though she wasn’t party of the bridal party, she was still an honorary member of the Prescot family. I typed a fast “A, if they’re the same color as the dress then no one’s going to notice. Calm down.” And locked the phone without replying to Rosie. Not with Nick here. No way. He looked like he was about to say something, but the bus came to a slow stop. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Papa J, who was unbuckeling and standing up.

“We’ve got a little trip planned today. Everyone can go ahead and get out; you don’t need your stuff, just make sure you have your phones.” I always have my phone, Papa Jonas. We unloaded everyone off the buss, in a parking lot close to a small ticket booth. Behind the booth was a wall covered in a layer of vines and roses in a gorgeous color of pink.

“Where are we?” Garbo asked, slipping a pair of sunglasses on and slinging an arm around Kat’s shoulders. I laughed. Kat and Garbo were only a year apart, but they were on totally different maturity levels. Kat was like me, the responsible, worried one, and Garbo was like Joe, the immature, crazy one. I wouldn’t work out, but it didn’t stop Garbo from trying.

“Victoria Park Rose Garden,” Mama Jonas said. “It’s a park. I thought it’d be fun to have a picnic for lunch!”

“Its….” Joe started, looking at his watch. “Ten in the morning.”

“You guys can explore till noon! We’re heading off to the North side,” Papa Jonas said, handing us each an admission ticket. Once we were all inside the park, everyone started splitting off. Demi and Joe went hand and hand off towards the vague direction of a gazebo that resembled the one on the brochure Papa J had handed us. Tanner and Molly looked at each other, shrugged, and then walked, arms looped together, in the opposite direction. Leaving Nick and I alone.

“I think they’re something going on with those two,” I said awkwardly, pushing my phone further down in the pocket of my jeans. For the middle of the summer, it was a weirdly cold day, so I was decked in the boots I’d bought for “dinner and pictures” before the concert, some dark skinny jeans, a white tee shirt and a leather jacket I’d picked up at Forever 21 in the mall near my house.

“Really?” Nick asked, his head tilting to the side like he was trying to think about it. “Eh, I guess that would work. But I mean…He’s…”

“He’s Tanner,” I shrugged, and then started walking. He followed. “I’ve known him since before I started high school. He’s one of the best guys I know; even if he doesn’t have the most wonderful habits.”

“I’ve heard them talking about it,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “But they decided not to mention it or anything around anyone…you know, with our rep and everything.”

“Don’t you mean non existent rep?” I joked, shoving his shoulder playfully. He laughed.

“Whatever.” We walked in silence for a bit, before Nick turned to me, still walking. “Are we not going to talk about what happened the other day?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, you ignored me Friday at dinner, and then after the show back at the hotel. And then all of yesterday, it was like you were pissed at me.” I moved my mouth from side to side, a stress habit I’d had since I was in middle school, and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jackets.

“I just…I didn’t want things to be awkward,” I said, shrugging. “After, you know…” I blushed slightly and looked back down as we walked.

“Mickie.” Nick stopped and reached out for my arm, effectively stopping me too. We were hidden under large weeping willow trees with rose bushes planted around the edges of the small pathway, with little sun or light, but I could still see Nick; his curly hair; the trail of small brown freckles leading down his neck; his deep, chocolate colored eyes. “What happened the other day was an accident.” I almost laughed.

“An accident?”

“I can’t control how my body reacts. No guy can.” I rolled my eyes, but I knew he wasn’t lying. And I was about to let him off the hook. Until… “Besides, it’s not my fault. You were the one who was being all…” He gave me a look, and my eyebrows shot up. My hands went from my pockets to crossing my arms over my chest.

“All what?” I asked, tilting my head and blinking. I was going to make him say it. I was going to make him admit that I was being a slut. And then I was going to berate him for it.

“Attractive.” Whoa. That’s not what I was expecting. My eyes widened.

“Attractive? Don’t you mean…slutty?”

“Well yeah,” he started, and then held his hands out. “But not in a ridiculous way. Trust me, I’ve dated girls who were the definition of slutty. And you, Mickie, are no where near that.” He started walking again. “But you were admittedly good at what you were doing.” I laughed.

“Seducing, I think you called it?” He laughed too, and looked down, kicking a stray pebble into the bushes as he stepped.

“Ow!” I stopped. Was that a person? I looked at Nick, who stopped too, and glanced at me. We both looked towards the bush he kicked at, which was small. Smaller than a person could fit in.

“It could have just been the wind?” I questioned, shrugging. He nodded, not looking convinced and turned, stepping faster. “So you were saying…attractive?” Nick laughed again. God, I loved that laugh. It was so breezy and light, but filled with emotion at the same time.

“Well it’s not a lie. You are pretty attractive. Otherwise, you know. Thatwouldn’t have happened.” I smiled to myself. I hadn’t really thought of it like that. I had to have done something right to have made that happen. But it was still pretty embarrassing. “Oh, come on, Mickie. You know you’re pretty. But I gotta ask-where did you learn those moves?” He was half joking, and I laughed. Things were good again; for now.

12:46 PM
Garden Grove

“So he just joked about it?” Demi asked as we lay on the blankets outstretched in the grass. The guys were all caught up in a game of football, and I’d taken the time to tell Demi what’d happened yesterday at lunch, and then after lunch I’d told her and Molly what Nick and I had talked about while walking. She’d laughed. I’d hit. It was a common thing.

“Yeah. Acted like it wasn’t a big deal.”

“But it so…is,” Molly said with a head nod.

“I know. But he doesn’t really get that.”

“He’s so into you, and he doesn’t even know it.” I laughed and looked at Demi out of the corner of my eyes.

“Yeah right.”

“He is!” she insisted, sitting up. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And I might have heard a few things from Joe…” I sat up, pulling up my sunglasses.

“Hoes before bros, Dem! What did he say?” She laughed at my choice of words. A little too American for my taste, but hey, it was a good phrase.

“He might have mentioned that Nick said you were the prettiest girl on tour with us.” I smiled.

“He did not!”

“Did so!” Demi giggled and put an arm around my shoulder. I looked out to wear the guys were playing, and Joe stopped and blew a kiss to Demi. She smiled and blew one back just as Nick stopped and waved at us. Me, namely. I blushed and waved back. “See! Mickie, what are we going to do with you? Don’t you know, you’re gorgeous.” I laughed and laid back, throwing my sunglasses back on. It was going to take more than a second hand comment and kind words from my best friend to get my confidence up. A lot more.

3:55 PM
Hilton Anatole-Ann Arbor, Michigan
Molly and Mickie’s room

“No. No, no, NO.”

“Come on, Mickie. Please?” Nick whined for the twentieth time.

“Nick, how many times do I have to say it?”

“Until you change your mind!”

“Then be prepared to wait, hun. I don’t want your brothers to know, much less everyone on Youtube!” We’d been at this for the last half hour. Nick had had the “genius” idea of us posting some sort of duet karaoke video on Youtube, just to see what people thought of me and my singing, but being me, I’d said no.

“Uh, Joe kinda already knows,” Nick said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, the other resting on his sweatpant clad hip. My eyes widened and I swiveled in my rolling chair at my desk, turning to face him.

“Joe? Joe Jonas? He knows I can sing?” He nodded. “What did you tell him, Nick?”

“Nothing!” he said, his hands flying up. “I swear! He kind of overheard me and Tanner talking about it.”

“Does no one on this tour mind their own business?” I asked, exasperated, my hand covering my eyes and my head shaking. “Listen, Nick. I know you like my singing. Trust me, I get it. But I told you yesterday why I don’t want anyone to know.” Yeah. I’d told him. Basically spilled my guts about the whole Sullivan academy thing. I even told him I can act. I figured...one secret out, might as well fill him in on all of them, eh? But when he asked if I could dance (part of the usual Disney Sugar Trifecta-dance, singing, acting) I just laughed. Hard. I mean, hardly. Oh, God. Okay, you know what? You know what I mean.

“That’s bullshit, Mickie, and you know it.” I threw him a look before turning back around. I was starting to see a side of Nick that I hadn’t before…a looser, less serious side. “Mickie, how many times do I need to tell you? There are a lot of downsides to being famous, yeah. But waking up and doing what you love every day, with the people you love doing it with, that’s worth all the negatives in the world.”

“I am doing what I love,” I replied, gesturing down to the computer I was sitting in front of.

“You love singing more! I saw that yesterday. The way you talk about how much you used to love performing. Mickie, your eyes shine.” He came up and, not even kidding here, sat on the floor, putting his head on my leg. “Mickie, please?” He pouted, folding his hands and putting his head on top of it, looking at me. He did have a good point, I guess. I’d always kind of loved singing and music just a little more than writing. I looked down at him, and into those gorgeous brown eyes, and sighed.

“Fine. You win.”

5:32 PM

“This is gonna get so many hits,” Nick said, moving his fingers across the mousepad on my computer. I glanced at him.

“You’re going to make me regret doing this.” He laughed, and continued clicking away. We sat on my bed in the room I was sharing with Molly, and he was uploading the video it’d taken us over an hour to record. An hour. For Three minutes of footage. By the end, I never wanted to hear the song “Break Even” again. Nick said it would be “great practice for when I’m famous and guest starring on a TV show.” I felt like there was something hidden behind his words, but didn’t ask. Just as Nick was pressing the upload button, the door to the room opened and Demi walked in. She say us, me laying back on my pillows, Nick sitting at the end of the bed (in a wifebeater and sweats no less!) and looked at me, raising her eyebrows.

“Hey, dinner’s here. I think we’re all just eating separate tonight. Paul is still on Skype with some execs.”

“What is he even talking to them about?” I asked, getting up and pulling my messy hair into a high bun. For the video, I’d just been wearing a simple black tee shirt with my hair curly, but since then the curls had fallen and had left me with the mess that is my natural hair. Now I was wearing an off the shoulder tie die tee shirt I’d had for forever, and a pair of soffe shorts. We’d taken pictures on top of the video, to add to the growing collection on my Facebook and MySpace, which, since the tour, had been completely unmanageable.

“Who knows.” Nick closed my computer and set it on my bed, standing up. “He’s always on the phone or Skyping. The business never stops with us.” Nick, Demi, Molly, Joe, Tanner and I all settled on watching TV in one of the common rooms, and we grabbed pizza and pasta on plates provided by the hotel. Mid-conversation, Demi’s phone beeped. When she pulled it out and looked at it, her eyes widened.

“Uh, something you two need to tell us?” She looked at Nick and I, who sat at her and Joe’s feet while they got the couch, then handed me the phone. It was another Perez page. And the first thing I saw was a giant picture of me and Nick in the rose garden, at the exact moment where he grabbed my arm while we were walking.

Trouble on Tour?

You guys have been speculating about this since the first video online popped up of these two, but now it looks like we missed something!

Rumored tour couple Nick Jonas and Mickie Prescot were seen squabbling earlier today at the Victoria Park Rose Garden in Ann Arbor, Michigan and things got physical!

(Picture credit to Lizzy Nichols)

What do you think? Is this rumored couple too cute for words or are they doomed from the start?

I handed the phone back to Demi, unable to speak.

“I guess that’s the noise we heard,” Nick said, putting his plate down and crossing his arms. “That girl must have been the one hiding in the bush.”

“Are people always this…stalkerish with you guys?” I asked, looking amongst them. “I mean, we didn’t even put where we were going or anything online. How did they know we were going to be there?”

“It happens, hun.” Demi gave me a sympathetic smile. I looked back at my plate in my lap, and set it down at my side, wrapping my arms around my knees and setting my head on top of them, staring blankly at the TV as everyone else eased back into conversation. I was seriously regretting making that video with Nick. If this was the way things were going to be, being famous’ cons might just outweigh the pros.

June 16, 2010
5:55 PM
Dressing rooms in Radio City Music Hall-New York, New York
“No way.” Nick, who sat next to Joe on the couch across from Molly and me, looked up, his eyes wide.

“What’s up?” Joe asked. I peered over my computer at both of them, and Nick was staring intently at his computer.

“Mickie, come here.” I got up, putting my computer on the couch where I was sitting, and walking over to where he was. He held his computer out to me, and I turned it around. The screen was on the page of our video on YouTube. The more recent one, that is. Of us singing. “Look at the hit count,” he said. I glanced at the box right under the video. And my heart skipped a beat.

“This can’t be right.” I sat on the arm of the couch next to where Nick sat, staring at the screen. “One million, three hundred and twenty six thousand, five hundred eighty two views?” I said the entire thing out loud, just to be sure.

“What are you talking about?” Molly asked, getting up to see. I hadn’t told her about the video. Hell, I hadn’t told anyone. But I was too stunned to move. She grabbed the computer and pressed play, and before I knew it, my own voice was blaring through the speakers of Nick’s Mac. By the time the chorus hit, most of the people on tour with us, including Papa J, were crowded around the computer, listening to Nick and I sing our (not so) little hearts out. I wanted to die. No, seriously. My face was flaming up, and I could just feel the eyes boring into my back. Namely glares from Molly and Demi for not telling them I was doing this.

“Mickie, I didn’t know you could even sing!” Papa J said as soon as the singing faded. I looked up from where I’d been hiding my face in my arms, and gave him a look.

“No one did. Or at least-no one was supposed to!”

“We knew!” Tanner said gleefully, and then put a hand on my back. “Come on, Mick. You sounded great! And besides, it’s not that bad that everyone knows. Now you’ll get some recognition.”

“Oh God,” Brendan started, slapping his hand to his forehead. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Tanner,” I started calmly. “If you’ll remember correctly, the last time I told someone about what I can do, they tried to get me to sing on stage.” I gave him a snarky look to match the tone of my voice. “Who was that again? Molly? Demi? Oh, no, it was you.” I shook my head.

“Mickie, you’re good! Come on. Obviously people agree! It’s a good thing that people like you,” Joe blabbered on, trying to make up for Tanner.

“Girls could use a role model like you,” Mama J pushed, resting a hand on my shoulder. “You’re smart, pretty, and you’ve got a great head on your shoulders from what I’ve seen. And maybe this singing thing-maybe it’s God’s way of letting you know you need to share that.”

“Maybe this all is.” Papa J gestured around to everyone as he spoke. “You were sent on tour with us for a reason. God picked you two,” he emphasized, glancing between Molly and I, “for a reason. And maybe this is it. For you to share your talent with everyone.”

“Everything happens for a reason,” Nick said, and then put an arm around my shoulders. I stared at the hand lying limply just above my chest on my right side for a minute. I wasn’t sure that it was an appropriate moment to freak out about the fact that I was making physical contact with Nick. So I sat there quietly for a moment, thinking.

“Everything happens for a reason,” I echoed quietly after a while. I looked down at my arms, still wrapped around my knees, and picked at the friendship bracelet tied around it. Just a simple woven bracelet with the initial M on it, from Rosie two years ago. It meant so much to me, that ratty piece of fabric. And I had it for a reason; to show that I was friends with Rosie, just like Rosie wore the one I’d made here years ago.

Maybe this was God’s plan I pondered. Being chosen for tour. Disco Curtis being here to medal with things. Maybe God really did want me to do this.

June 18, 2010
12:40 PM
Park Place Villas-Apartment 16

When I knocked on the door, I hadn’t expected Ren to answer the door so quickly. I really hadn’t. So when it yanked open, literally two second after I knocked, to reveal a disheveled but still professional looking Ren, I was surprised. And apparently Nick was too. Because he jumped next to me. As did Molly and Demi.

“Mickie!” she said, surprised as well. “I wasn’t expecting you for another…”

“Fifteen minutes?” I asked, laughing. And then reached forward and gave her a huge hug. I hadn’t seen her since we’d come to visit last New Year’s, just a week before Olivia’s birthday.

“Good Lord. Is it already almost one?” she asked, letting go and looking at her watch. And then she looked back and me…and noticed the people behind me. “Oh, and you brought friends!” She ushered me inside, and then stopped. “Well look who we have, Miss Celebutant herself, Demi Lovato!” Ren pulled Demi into the same hug she’d given me. She’d known Demi for almost as long as I had…having gone with me on summer trips and to shows. “We’ve been seeing you on the Tele lately! Ol just loves your show!” Demi laughed, and I saw her blush. Once we were all inside, and Molly and Ren had met and everything, Ren realized who Nick was. And looked like she was going to have an aneurism. I mean, she knew who I was on tour with. But I don’t think she was expecting me to bring him with me to her place. And she berated me for it when we were getting tea in the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were bringing them!” she said as she went towards the fridge, opened it, and then dug through the shelves, producing a container of half and half and-to my surprise-a can of cream soda.

“Aw, you remembered!”

“Yes, sister, I remembered your odd aversion to our national drink.” I laughed. Ren talked like me. A lot. Used a lot of the same high vocabulary that I did. Then again, our dad was a lawyer, and mum was in politics, so pretty much everyone in our family had pretty high vocabularies. And the truth was the cream soda was…I hated tea. Still do to this day. I know, I’m English! I should love tea. Most English people drink the stuff like water. Even Ren and Liv, who were pretty much raised in Poland, love it. But I always fake it. At parties, at lunches, I always ask for an empty tea cup and a can of A&W cream soda, and then fake that I’m drinking tea. I know, it’s weird. But the only tea I can even kind of stand is this Caramel stuff from Lipton. Now that’s yummy. But Earl Grey? Ew.

“Don’t tease!” I said, throwing a small dish towel at her. “And bringing them wasn’t my idea! Nick didn’t want me to go into the city by myself. And especially not ride in a taxi on my own.”

“What’s that all about?” she asked, pouring some of the half and half into a small pitcher. “I mean, obviously he has the hots for you or-

“Nick does nothave the hots for me!” I retorted, laughing. I searched her cabinets for cups until I found them, and pulled five out.

“Mickie, you have eyes. And a brain. Obviously something’s up if he’s concerned about you going into the city on your own.”

“He’s just watching out for me!” I cried, still trying to not to laugh. “Like a brother!”

“A brother who gets a stiffie around you?” I turned around, and Molly was leaning against the doorway, grinning. I glared at her as Ren turned to me, wide eyed.

“He did not! Oh my gosh! Details!” She put the milk down at the counter and crossed her arms.

“It was nothing! Just an accident!”

“I hate to break up this little sisterly moment,” Molly started, “but I think someone’s calling for you, Ren.”

“Oh merde,” she muttered, wiping her hands on the towel on the counter. Molly laughed.

“Ren, I didn’t put you for a French cusser like us.” Ren laughed back.

“I did that long before Mickie did. My friends and I did it to get away with cussing around our primary lesson teachers in school.” Molly and I nodded, impressed, as Ren went to go check on Olivia. When Molly and I came out with the tea, Nick and Demi were in a quiet conversation that stopped when we walked in the room. I gave Demi a look, but she just smirked at me and reached for a cup of tea.

“Oh not that one!” I said, grabbing at the cup she reached for. It was the one with my soda in it. She gave me a look back, and took a different one, just as Ren came out, carrying Olivia.

“Well that nap didn’t last long,” she said, smiling. Olivia squirmed to be put down, and Ren did so. She turned around slowly, backing up into her mom’s legs, giving us a cute little smile. Olivia looked almost exactly like Ren. Same long dark hair, thin frame. Her face was built the same way, with the cute nose I’d always wanted growing up. The only thing that set them apart-the only resemblance she had to her father-were the bright, blue eyes shining in the light of Ren’s huge apartment (bought with the money she earned from her high paying PR job). “Ol, you remember your Aunt Mickie, right?”

“Never though I’d hear her called that,” Nick muttered. I laughed and scooped her up in my arms, hugging her tight.

“Hi Auntie Mickie,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around my neck. My heart melted. Olivia was probably the sweetest little girl I knew. She was positively adorable.

“And who is this?” Demi asked, coming up next to us. Olivia unwrapped her arms and looked at Demi, her eyes widening.

“Sonny!” she cried. Ren looked embarrassed, but we all just laughed.

“That’s right!” Demi said, tapping her on the nose.

“Olly, this is Demi. She and Mommy and I have been friends for a very long time.” Olivia smiled shyly, and Molly let out an “Awww!” “She plays Sonny on the Tele.” She waved at Demi, and Demi grinned, waving back. “These are Auntie Mickie’s friends. This is Molly,” I said, gesturing to her. “And Nick.” For the second time, Mickie’s eyes widened. She hit my arm suddenly, and I looked at her, surprised.

“Down!” I laughed and let her down.

“Yes ma’am!” She ran back towards her room, and we waited for a moment. There were several sounds of things falling, a few crashes, but finally Olivia came back out, dragging a pile of various items with her. When she got closer, I saw what they were; the first thing was a huge, soft Camp Rock blanket, with both Demi and Nick pictured on it, along with Kevin and Joe. Then, there were Joe and Demi dolls. Followed by a Jonas Brother’s CD (Lines, Vines and Trying Times), a poster, and one of Demi’s CD’s and posters. “I think someone’s a fan,” I said simply. All of us burst out laughing.

“Look,” Olivia said, and then walked up to Nick and pulled a necklace out of her shirt. It was a dog tag, almost larger than her hand, and I saw a bedazzled pair of wings on it. I recognized it as one of the ones Nick wears along with his own medical dog tag. But then I saw the Bayer cross on it, along with a small medical alert sign and a number.

I knew for a fact that the ones available for sale to the public didn’t have the latter two on them. That could only mean one thing.

“Ren,” I started, turning to her. “when did she…?”

“Diagnosed in April,” she said, leaning against the wall and watching as Nick smiled at her and looked at the tag, then looked at me. I shrugged, and then looked back at Ren. “Type 2.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We have it under control-figured there was no reason to worry you.” Nick pulled his own tags out from under his wifebeater (which was under a red plaid shirt that I loved on him) and showed Olivia. She took it and held it up next to hers, grinning. All of us watched, smiling. Nick was so good with kids. It was adorable. And I’m pretty sure everyone in the room agreed.

1:20 PM

“So you’re going to sing?” Ren asked, incredulous. Olivia sat in her lap, toying with her Joe doll. It was kinda weird, seeing a doll of Joe. But I got over it fast.

“Yeah. I mean, kinda.” I paused, trying to figure out what to say. “I’m not going to sing one of my original songs.”

“Not yet,” Nick threw in, and then took a sip of his tea. I rolled my eyes.

“Right. Not yet. For now, I’m just singing a song with Tanner-the lead singer of Disco Curtis, that is.”

“Oh, what song?” Ren asked. I grinned.

“You’ll just have to find out tonight!” I’d invited her, Olivia and Jim to come see my first performance. In style, as Nick had said, when he’d offered to put them on the list to come backstage. And yeah…I’d actually agreed to sing a song with Tanner. On stage. In front of everyone. It was a shocker, I know. But if it was God’s plan for me…who was I to stop that from happening?

“What’s that sound, Mommy?” Olivia asked, not looking up. Everyone got quiet for a minute, and then I heard it. A buzzing sound. And then music. My non-important ringtone of the moment, which was for people who weren’t in my address book or weren’t special enough to receive a ringtone (Nick’s current one was Like You Do by Angel Taylor), could be heard from the kitchen. I realized I’d left my phone there when we were getting tea, and ran to grab it, coming back into the room and answering it.

“Hello?”

“Hey Mickie, it’s Ann!”

“Oh, hi Ann!” Why is she calling?Demi mouthed. I shrugged. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve tried to call you three times. Are you sitting down?” I looked around. No open seats, seeing as Olivia had just sat in the one I’d vacated seconds before. So, I lied.

“Yeah, why?” I started pacing back and forth. This sounded important. Everyone looked at me, and I glance back at them, confused, and then stared at the floor boards as I walked back and forth.

“I’ve got someone here who wants to talk to you. Someone…” She paused. “Pretty important. Here he is.” There were sounds of the phone being passed, and then, I heard a guys voice on the other end.

“Mickie?”

“Uh…yeah?”

“This is Stefan. Stefan Brogren.” I stopped. Dead in my tracks. My eyes were wide, my hands went clammy, and my voice was rough when I spoke.

“As in…Degrassi Stefan Brogren?” Molly, Demi and Ren all looked at me, shocked. Molly and Demi and I had done many a nights of Degrassi the last couple of weeks, what with the “Every Degrassi Ever” marathon starting on Teen Nick. And Ren and I used to watch the original series all the time, so she knew all too well who Stefan Brogren, who played Snake (Mr. Simpson), one of the teachers, as well as writing and directing some of the episodes of the beloved Canadian TV show. One of the websites I worked on at the time was actually a Degrassi fan forum called Degrassi On Demand. It was one of the more active sites I worked at.

“Good, so you know who I am!”

“Of course I do!” I said. And then realized how excited I sounded. “I mean, uh…yeah.”

“Well, listen, Mickie. There’s something we wanted to talk to you about.” He stopped for a minute, and I heard him and Ann talking about something…before he started again. “We’re aware of your activity in the fandom, and even more so in the celebrity community in the moment. We’ve been monitoring DoD for a while now.” My eyes widened. He knew of me! “We contacted Ann a while back-along with your mother. We read your story-the one you have on the site-about the show. The characters, that is. We thought it was amazing.” My eyes widened even further. Stephen Stohn. Stephen Stohn, the creator of the original Degrassi and executive everything on the current series, thought my fan fiction was amazing. Holy. Crap. “And, with your mother’s permission, we turned it into a script. A few scripts, actually. It fits in perfectly with our planned storylines, we actually just integrated the character into the ones we already had. But we wanted you to play Hollie.” I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. This was way too much to take in. I didn’t speak for a minute. “Mickie? Hello?”

“I’m here,” I squeaked, still not moving.

“Oh, okay. Well…what do you think?”

“I-I,” I stuttered. I paused, trying to gather my words. “I’d love to.”

“That’s great!” He sounded genuinely excited. “We’ve already worked it out with Mr. Jonas and Ann and everyone-you’ll be flying out on Sunday and then spend the week on set.”

“Wait a second, the week?” I asked. “I’ll be missing a whole week of concerts!”

“We’ve already spoken to Ann about this-a week won’t do much harm. And, you’ll be interviewing some of the cast as well for the magazine, so it all works out in the end.”

“Okay, well, I guess if it’s okay with Ann.”

“Great! She’ll send you all the info tonight, including the scripts. I look forward to meeting you!”

“You too!” I said. And then my phone beeped three times-end call.

“Was that seriously Stefan Brogren?” I nodded in response to Molly’s question.

“Who’s that?” Nick asked, confused.

“He plays one of the main characters on Degrassi,” Ren explained. “What did he want?” I didn’t answer for a second, picking Olivia up and sitting down, pulling her into my lap.

“Guys…I’m going to be on Degrassi.”