Hi everybody!
So remember the longfic I mentioned I was working on in Finding New Someones? Yeah, this one is not it. Right after I announced it I actually got the inspiration for this one and it's been the only thing I've been working on since then :). I have eleven chapters down so far and I'm pretty excited to finally post the first one. I will be done with my exams next Tuesday, so I will update next week at the latest and hopefully keep posting a new chapter every week after that.
To avoid getting carried away I've decided to put a 2000 words maximum for every chapter, and so far I've only broke my own rule a few times. Anyway, this chapter is actually a bit short compared to the others, and sadly Ally doesn't make an appearance yet. She will be in every chapter after this one, though! And I have lots of Auslly goodness in store ;)
One last thing before I leave you with the first chapter: this is my very first M rated fanfiction, and I really hope it won't come off as incredibly awkward. There will be smut in later chapters, together with cursing and references to drugs and alcohol. I will try to warn in advance about scenes that not everybody might like, but remember that the rating system is there for a reason. If you're uncomfortable about these kind of themes I suggest you go some other place. In any case, it's not my intention to offend anyone :)
Also, I've never been in rehab. I did some research but don't expect accuracy, internet will only explain so much. Feel free to let me know if I'm getting things horribly wrong. I've tried to stay true to the characters as much as I could, but due to the setting being completely different from the DC one, expect them to be a bit OOC at times.
Okay, I swear I'm done blathering. Enjoy the first chapter!
disclaimer: I do not own Austin & Ally.
day one (part 1)
The room was not particularly big, but bright and clean. It had a walk in closet and a big, modern bathroom. The furniture was stylish but essential: two double beds, two nightstands, two dark wooden bureaus and a fairly big mirror. The walls were of a soft cream color that complemented well with the dark brown bedspread. There was a framed abstract poster hanging on the wall above the two beds, and he counted three windows: two narrow and long, above the headboards, plus a big one on the right side lateral wall, all covered by white venetian blinds.
It looked more like a hotel room than a room in a rehab facility, but the realization didn't help to quiet down Austin's discomfort. He let his bag fall on the bed closest to the door.
"Sorry, that's taken," announced a voice from behind him.
He turned and found a ginger haired, 20-something guy resting against the doorframe. He was wearing the weirdest combination of patterns Austin had ever seen.
"Oh, you must be Dez," said Austin, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm your new roommate—"
"Austin Moon, I know. Your face is all over my little sister's room." They shook hands, briefly. "I'm guessing you being here has something to do with the punching paparazzi and threatening to kill one of your dancers stuff?"
"I didn't threaten to kill anyone," snorted Austin, grabbing his duffel bag to throw it on the other bed. "And you would punch a paparazzi too, if they called you a 'little fuck' in front your girlfriend," he added, sourly.
"So the legend is true, huh? You and Kira Starr are actually a thing?" asked Dez, completely unfazed by what Austin had just said.
"Maybe not anymore. I guess it depends on how well things go in here."
"What are you here for, then?"
"Alcohol and drug abuse, same old shit. I'm not addicted or anything, though."
"Sure you're not," Dez snickered, and Austin felt the urge to tell him to fuck off, but wasn't really keen on the idea of the consequences. He had too many people telling him he had anger management issues already.
"What about you?" he asked instead, opening his duffel bag as an excuse not to look at him.
"That's personal, dude."
He turned, two tee shirts still in his hands. "I told you mine!" he protested.
"That was your decision," shrugged Dez, kicking off his shoes. He threw himself on the bed and sighed, resting his head against his hands.
"Whatever," grumbled Austin, and he want back to unpacking.
Dez, however, didn't seem to catch on to the fact that the conversation had ended.
"So, why are you here instead of in one of those celebrity rehabs?" he asked.
"My parents liked that this one would allow me to keep my phone and stay in touch with my manager, publicists ans stuff. Also my mom is really into all of this holistic crap. And it's not too far from home."
"Thought you lived in Beverly Hills with the other celebs."
"I have a condo there, but my parents live in Miami."
"Heats fan?"
"Dude, of course!"
"Awesome. We'll get along," Dez winked and Austin found himself smiling genuinely for the first time that day. Maybe his weirdo roommate wasn't as bad as he'd thought.
"Are there many people our age in here?" he asked, heading towards the walk in closet to check how much space there was. It was fairly big and Dez's colorful tee shirts occupied half of it. He took a handful of free hangers and brought them back to his bed.
"Not really, it's mostly middle-aged businessmen and women, a few kinda famous athletes... you're the only popstar, for sure."
Austin nodded as he put his hoodies, button shirts and jackets on the hangers. He set all of his tee shirts in one of the drawers of his bureau and his pants in a second one. He then carried the hanged clothes back to the closet and put them away.
"So, how long until the paparazzi storm the place?" asked Dez, sitting up.
"Nobody's gonna know I'm here. My people are gonna release a statement tomorrow... they hope that letting the press know about my 'decision' to get help might do something to recover my image. No one's gonna name this facility, though. Not until I'm out, at least."
Dez tilted an eyebrow. "I guess the air quoting 'decision' means this was not your idea?"
Austin sighed. "You ask a lot of questions, you know?"
Dez nodded. "My shrink says the same thing."
Further conversation was prevented by a knock on the door. Before either of them could answer, the face of one of the nurses peeked inside.
"Are you settling in okay, Mr Moon?" she asked in a soft tone.
"Yeah, sure," said Austin.
"Do you need anything?"
"Not right now."
She smiled. "Alright, then. Dinner will be served outside in an hour and you'll be exonerated from the evening activities, since it's your first day."
"Thanks," nodded Austin, awkwardly.
"I will see you guys later."
"Bye."
"Bye, Tina."
Austin turned to Dez. "I think I'm gonna take a shower."
"Go ahead."
The bathroom was big and luxurious. There were both a bathtub and a shower, the box of which was made completely of glass. He opened the faucet and watched the water hit the ceramic bottom as he undressed, feeling uncomfortably empty of thoughts. Lately it'd been happening to him way too much and he hated it, it made him feel like he was not inside his body anymore. It wasn't just the not thinking about anything, it was the apathy that made him feel void, distanced. He'd usually make it go away with a few beers and tequila shots, but drinking was not an option there.
He tried to shake the feeling off and stepped under the already steaming water, letting heat untangle his muscles and wash away some of the uneasiness.
He had to admit, the place was nice. Comfortable, aesthetically appealing, quiet and in a beautiful location. The staff seemed nice and available, and so his roommate. He still felt alone, though. Abandoned by his world, even his family. He missed working, performing in front of huge crowds, recording new hits. He missed the glamorous parties and Kira, her chocolate colored hair and big sweet eyes. He'd been screwed over by the tabloid side of it, the overblown scandals and rude reporters. It all felt like the press had been plotting to destroy his career and succeeding, and no one would believe that he was actually perfectly fine, not even his parents.
"You've changed, honey," his mother had said in between sobs a few days before, the night they'd told him he'd be spending time in rehab. "You're not acting like yourself."
"That's bullshit! I'm fine, Mom!" he'd yelled back.
"We agreed to letting you have a career so young because we believed in you, son. You were confident, driven and passionate. Now we're afraid that fame is going to your head," had calmly explained his father.
"No, it's not true! What the hell would you know, anyway?"
"We read the papers, Austin."
"The papers? You mean the tabloids? Those are all lies! It's your own fault if you read shit."
"You're being sued for threatening to kill somebody."
"I didn't do anything wrong!"
"Well, your 'anything wrong' could get you in prison for six months!"
The yelling had continued for what had seemed like hours, until his father had finally threatened to freeze all of his assets.
"We've agreed when you were sixteen that I would have power of attorney until you turned twenty-one. Guess what, you're only nineteen, and I will take everything away. I will even get Starr Records to release you from your contract. You will end your career and go to college, get a business degree and join the family business."
Austin had cursed him and his still sobbing mother, told them he hated them and they were destroying his dreams. He'd yelled until his throat had started to burn, and then he'd stormed off to drink himself into oblivion. He'd tried LSD for the first time and didn't remember anything about it.
His parents finding him passed out at the front door the morning after hadn't helped his cause, and after seeing the broken look in his mother's eyes, he'd accepted to give rehab a try. He still however fiercely believed that everyone was making too big of a deal out of the whole thing.
The facility had admitted him for a twenty-one days minimum stay, comprehensive of one-on-one therapy and meditation sessions twice a day. His fans would find comfort in knowing that he was finally getting the help he needed and he could get a chance to take a vacation from fame and its burdens, or at least that was the way his manager had put it. He just hoped the three weeks would fly by and he could get back to his life. For some reason, he had the feeling that wasn't gonna be the case.
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xx emoeses