5/27/15: Hi everyone! So I have gotten a few reviews saying that putting lyrics up is not permitted, so I will have to take them down... the story won't be the same, but I do not intend to be a rulebreaker... So... the lyrics are coming down.

Hey! Guessed who decided to show up!

I honestly didn't mean to write this, but take an emotional girl, a sob-worthy song, and random midnight inspiration, and you get this.

I literally told myself to go to sleep, but this song was stuck in my head and I couldn't get it out. Three hours later, I'm dropping my tablet on my face while writing the last part.

Anyway, I didn't want to publish this, but I figured it's been a while and you guys deserve something, So, yeah.

I don't know. It's bad. I'm tired. It probably needs editing. Oh well.

I've never written anything like this.

I'll rant about the Auslly wedding and Payley Live and the ending of the show and#TeamRallison and #RauraIsDead at the bottom.

Enjoy. Or at least try to.

Disclaimer; oh! Said I heard, that apparently I don't own this show, or Whiz Khaifa's See You Again. I only own the plot-line...

Oh god. Ignore that awful parody. I'm embarrassing myself...


Hold Every Memory As You Go

He throws yet another piece of paper into this ever-growing pile.

He's not trashing them. He would never trash them.

He's filling up the pages of their memories, so he can show her one day.

He's writing down the story of their success, struggling with the lyrics without her to help him. But he's doing his best, and he knows she'll be proud when he shows her the outcome.

When he sees her again.

He hated the feeling of how wrong it was to be with her every time they were together. But the way she would look up from her toes and see him- and smile- made all the willpower drain from his body.

And the way she would bounce on her toes and crinkle her nose and unclasp her hands just to grab his arm would make his senses fly off.

The way she liked to talk and ramble when she went on tour with him, chattering his ear off through every airport gate with a different story made him comfortable and accompanied.

When her head would be lying on his chest because they're both jet-lagged and she couldn't even finish the story but he couldn't care less because she's finally peaceful in his arms, even if someone could easily pull back the curtains of his bunk and find them. He knew they wouldn't.

And the next day, they'd escape the bus and run away from the hotel to explore whatever town or city they've landed in, just because he'd convinced her to come along once again, no matter how many times they'd been scolded.

Because he knew one of those days it really would be their last.

And now that last day is almost too far gone to remember, and he isn't quite sure he really wants to forget.

He's gotten older- he's grown up, and work has begun to consume his whole life.

But he knows she's somewhere that's good for her, better than being with him ever was.

Because he was never really good. Or bad, but for her, he was the worst. And he knew it. And he hated himself for it.

He'd always known that their last day would be crucial. To tell her to stay one more, to take her side and never let go. To tell her he loved her.

If only he had known.

Their last day was like the others, back home, sitting on the hood of his car by a secluded cliff that no one took interest in. Dawn was breaking, and she recounted another story from her younger childhood days. She still was one, anyway. He wasn't.

They'd laid a blanket over the beat- up convertible and her head was in his lap, rambling on and on as he rearranged her chocolate locks. He couldn't tell if it was just him, or if they'd been getting thinner recently.

His creation was quickly destroyed as she suddenly sat up, placing her hand where his jaw met his neck, her face mere millimeters from his.

Her nose brushed his. Her eyelashes tickled his cheek. He wouldn't lean in. He would wait. Let her brush her lips against his first. And then he would move.

But as soon as hers skimmed his, her face was in his neck, and her tears were running down his shoulder into his shirt. His arms engulfed her as her hands gripped his hair.

He had missed his chance.

He often wonders how this pure, innocent little girl could have possibly deserved to experience so much pain. The wondering usually ends with a new whole in the wall. And another guilt trip, because how could he not notice?

He wonders how he could go so long without her, how the days seem longer and lonlier now.

And he wonders how he could have been so turned-around when he first met that little freshman girl from New York.

So he writes all this down, to show her when he reunites with her. He's not sure if it'll be soon, but he knows he'll have his first self-written song about it when he finds her.

He remembers the first time he met her. A small, undergrown thirteen-year- old girl from New York in Freshman year of High School, she fumbled around with her books and her locker because she's not quite used to the damn thing yet. He leaned against his locker across the hall as two of his friends argued over some illegal play their rival school had used against them- not that he cared much at the moment. His arms crossed over his building fifteen-year-old (almost sixteen-year-old) chest as he watched her. He wanted to see what would happen.

Soon enough, she began to teeter away, struggling mange her belongings. He sighed because he knew she'd never make it to her first period, So he followed her and took the books and binders from her protesting hands, not caring much as the two friends behind him stop arguing to see what the heck he was doing. He carried the books to her class, and she kept her head bowed as she trailed him.

He broke the ice once he put down the books by telling her his name was Austin, and she smiled shyly and responded Ally.

He found himself talking to her the next week when he found her lonely at lunch, and suddenly, she was popping up in hallways and classes, wanting to be with the one friend she'd made because she was honestly too scared to talk to anyone else. Not that he minded much.

He liked being with her. It was an innocent friendship that he found growing between them, completely platonic of course.

Although that didn't change the fact that they were inseparable.

His friends told him to get a little space, ditch her once in a while. He tried. He honestly put in a valiant effort. But one look at her sweet, big eyes and he was gone. He could never deny her, never say no to her, no matter how hard he tried. She knew all his weak spots. He was screwed.

With all their time spent together, they found things about each other. She could write. He could rock. She fell in love with his voice. He fell for her personality. But they would never admit it. She claimed she liked how their first album sounded. He raved about the songs she wrote.

As time went by, the songs got deeper, more romantic, more enthralling, more touching. He never wondered why. He always assumed it was just her getting older. Besides, they were getting closer and closer, to the point where she didn't care if he spent the night and saw her crazy bed head and drool face in the morning, and he wasn't fazed if he got changed while she was still in the room.

So itt was only natural that she told him everything.

Almost everything.

Maybe not that she was falling in love with him too (he was very blunt about it on his end).

Or that she couldn't allow herself to be loved by him.

Or that she was drawing the line before she would kiss him goodbye.

He loved her through everything. He was with her through all of it, making it obvious how much willpower it was taking to restrain himself. He didn't care what his friends said about her, or what the girls his age thought about her. He wanted her, all to himself. He got that.

But on the last day, as he held her from dawn to sunset, he couldn't have lost more. Because she was practically pulling his hair out and sobbing into his neck, telling him how much she hated him for making her love him. And he was holding her to his chest, wondering why she was crying, reassuring her that it would be okay, kissing the top of her head.

But it was too late.

And the fatal disease that had guaranteed her a short life since birth had taken her away the next morning.

That feeling in his chest that being with her was so wrong tightened.

She never told him.

And he never told her.

He's been wanting to find a way to her for years now. Find a way to tell her, because he knows she must be listening somehow. She must be helping him out somehow, he just doesn't know how.

So he just writes down all the things he wonders and the memories he's collected about her in the old songbook she bought him when he turned seventeen.

In the end, he practically has a novel.

And it's filled with everything he can remember from when he was leaning against his locker, just watching her fumble round, to when he sat with her at lunch. When he first discovered that she's a talker, to when he discovered her writing talent. When he released his first single, to taking her on his first national tour. When they had their first escape where she showed him around NYC, to their last rendezvous.

He recounts every little moment, every meaningful moment that he can write down and store for later.

He still can't decide if he wants to forget her or not. He just knows that the memories he's writing down for her will be his last song. Because it's been a long, hard experience since he's last written with her. But he won't write about what she's been missing on, no.

He'll write one last goodbye that starts from when they began.

Because he knows he'll see her again.


A/N: Soooooooooooo

Again, I've never written anything like that before, so make sure you tell me what you think down below.

I was going to write a Raura one-shot based on the song too, but I'm not sure. Tell me what you think 'cause I'm indecisive.

Uh, so I loved WB&WB and the ending of the show is kinda making me sad, but they're moving on with their lives, no matter how sad it is. At least they're still keeping in touch and hanging out. Honestly, the Payley Live was so funny, I loved it, and yeah... And Rourtney... I think we all kinda saw it coming that Ross would find someone else. I mean, Courtney is so pretty and sweet and you gotta love her... I mean, he took her to DWTS (because don't get me started on Coachella and Wango Tango).

SPEAKING OF DWT OMG #TeamRallison is in the finals and I'm terrified. I've been voting every week from every phone I can since I'm not elligable to do it online. (The phone line is 1-855-234-5608 for those of you who can vote) I'm so proud of Riker, and... Yeah.

Anyway, back to the topic of fanfics, I do have a lot of one-shots and stories lined up (I didn't forget you iceprincess) So be expecting me this summer!

Ok, Keep Cool, Peeps!

Don't forget to Review, Fave, and Follow!

Bie!

-K8ie