Title: Rockstar
Rating: T
Summary: She brought him to stardom, so therefore she wasn't jealous. There was no reason to be; even though the thing she craved most was to have him kiss her senseless against her very own piano. Again. Two-part story.

AN: Hey guys, this is my first Austin and Ally fanfiction- to be perfectly honest I've been staying away from Disney for awhile since the flurry of new TV shows have arrived, and I'm kind of bitter from losing all my old favorite Disney shows, but I'm kind of growing fond of this show... :) I'm not quite sure if some people will take this to be a little OC because it's a little more darker than the show and I guess they're a little bit older.

UPDATED

He's a rockstar. She knows he will always be.

Fame's an addiction; she's perhaps just not confident enough to reach out for the stars, but he's the wonder boy. She had never been assured of her own abilities, however his? It was as clear as day. There was no doubt that he was the epitome of an artist; with a killer voice and stunning smile, he had the deal tucked safely in his back pocket.

It's been changing him though; the fame. Sometimes she wonders if she's just paranoid or utterly delirious, but she swears he's not shining as bright, compared to that fortunate day where they had first met under peculiar circumstances. She recalls the times when he used to wake up without a care in the world- obviously leaving all the burdens and work on her shoulders. It all makes life easier for her since he tries now, but honestly? She kind of misses his old self.

She can understand why he went for the high life, he's meant to be on the stage, and damn is he good at it. Although, it wasn't always perfect. She's seen his lows; especially when he'd arrive on her doorstep in a half-drunken stupor, a gorgeous girl dangling possessively by his side; there was a loathing for his actions because really, she thinks she deserves more than this from him. These occasions usually ended with a slam of her door, after he rudely and blatantly asks, "h-hey can we stay the niiight?" Pity and concern for him disrupts her common sense and clarity, however the bitter, distasteful stench of his much too strong liquor tastes wrenches her harshly back into reality. If only she would stop mothering him.

That's really just one aspect.

It was another reason she detested his glamor and stardom. The women. If this came off as jealousy, she'd ever be able to live with herself because it was certainly NOT that. She didn't want to mislead anyone into thinking so; her friends, their fans, or even him- for goodness, that boy had the ego the size of Russia. However they were everywhere, obviously, not that he minded of course. All kinds: tall, short, blonde, brunette, shallow, vapid; they varied most of the time. One obnoxious pattern that was continuous was their utter gorgeousness, which frankly, was annoying.

Not that it meant anything beyond superficial disgust or pure disbelief.

She notices he's been drinking a lot more than usual. She also notices he hasn't been spending as much time with Dez. She notices that corn-dogs are no longer his prized object of sheer affection; and that his nights filled with zombies and aliens have no longer been a priority. It's probably nothing, but she finds it discomforting. At twenty-one, it might seem childish to hold onto such silly things, but he's always been that way to her. Another thing she notices is that he doesn't dance to let loose anymore.

Huh, she hadn't really realized the downside much before.

She doesn't think much about it, because she doesn't want to; she figures what he wants to do, is what he wants to do. It wasn't like she didn't care, but she had no say in his life choices, after all she practically hurled him towards the job anyway.

So when he walks into their practice room, no longer placed in Sonic Boom (although it would always be open if they pleased), rather in Drop Track Record's very own studio, dressed to kill, she doesn't say anything. Even though she knows he's probably planned a busy night in some club she's never heard of, with some girl he hasn't met yet.

"Jameson's been pressing, he says we've gotta finish the song by Monday."

With a weak smile she nods, "Sure." There's not much to say, but she remembers when it was her that was pressuring him to focus.

He looks at her, for once, properly this week whilst he's sober, as if he wants to say something, but stops himself. Instead, he takes a seat beside her on the bench. A shiver rolls up her spine as she glances at him; she hates how it makes her feel vulnerable whenever he brushes his arm against hers.

"I own the night and I don't need no help;
Gotta be the feeling that Scarface felt."

Talented, he surely is; good looking was another thing. Even if he's her best friend and nothing more, she's entitled to an opinion. What was wrong with that? They'd been going at the song for almost an hour now, but she would constantly get distracted. She stands by saying she's not jealous of the girls that get his full attention, even for only one night, but it wouldn't kill him to pretend like he might just consider her. 'It might just kill this partnership though.' There goes that nagging, ethical voice in the back of her mind again.

Okay, maybe she hasn't been completely honest, even if she did hypothetically have some feelings towards him (she never specified feelings of what kind), it didn't immediately imply jealousy, there is no scientific connection between the two.

With every few verses he writes down, biting his lip in concentration, he looks up at her every once and again. He seems nervous. That was a trait she never associated with him of all people.

"Austin?" She begins. He's making her nervous too, because all she wants to do is bite on her locks, "Are you okay?"

His head snaps in her direction as he blinks, "What? Oh, yeah. Course"

Cocking a brow, she's unconvinced, "Really? Do you want to take a break or something..." trailing off she sees his fists clenching the edges of his seat as he stares down at the monochrome black and white keys. At this point, she doesn't really understand what's going on, or why he's acting like this all of a sudden, but that look in his eyes is something she's unfamiliar with.

"No."

"Um, do you want a drink then?"

"It's fine."

This is getting her worried, "If you're busy, I could just work on the song alone..." Maybe this has to do with his upcoming plans tonight.

"I said it's fine."

She doesn't like how he gives her this withering look, like he can't stand looking at her, and frankly she feels rather insulted by it. There's so much more she wants to say to him, but she knows he doesn't have the time, or the interest anymore.

Fuck, she's getting tired of this.

Narrowing her eyes, she looks away, "Alright, sorry for trying to help." Snipping as he tenses up.

"Ally. It's not like that."

Rolling her eyes, she's heard that one before, "Oh really Austin? Then what is it like?"

"It's been a long day."

"Hangover from last night I'm guessing." There isn't any sympathy when she says it, actually, she says it rather bitterly.

He pauses and gives her a quick look over, and she feels the goosebumps rising on her arms as she looks away, "What's that supposed to mean?" Stepping just a few steps closer to her, his brown eyes never leaving hers, she finds her breathing getting more labored with each passing second.

"Nothing." It might just be because he's tired and grumpy.

However she's wrong, because he's an international sensation, and they're used to getting what they want, whenever they want. For some reason, she's not quite disgusted by his behavior today, even though she condemns every self-righteous musical artist that does the exact same thing. How hypocritical of her, she finds herself chastising, but that part is pretty much blocked out, because she's too busy to think of morals at a time like this.

Especially when his lips start devouring hers in a losing battle. When she thinks back to this day, she doesn't even begin to understand how it began. Pressed against the sleek black, smooth surface of the piano, fingers fumbling, disheveled hair and impatient moans. He's gripping on her like he's expecting her to run- but he doesn't know she's not going anywhere, at least she can't leave on her own account.

He stays, it's been such a long time since they've been together for an all-nighter, but she supposes they were much, much different circumstances. Strictly business has turned into something more complicated than she had hoped. Her sensible mind should be kicking in at any moment, but as time passes and he's biting hard on her neck as she shuts her eyes tight from the gesture, a slow groan bubbling in her throat, she thinks that maybe being sensible isn't being an option right now.

It's a long night, he doesn't go to his party today, but he's not promising tomorrow.

AN: Hope you guys like it, it's a quick thing I whipped up because I needed a distraction, but enjoy :) It's a 2 part thing so expect the second chapter soon. I know it's not that special of a story, but it was fun to do :D :D :D