Disclaimer: I do not own Austin and Ally, R5, or How to Save a Life by the Fray.
"And you all would sign here, and here," Trish starts to flip through the five contracts spread out on the table as she finishes her speech. Ally sits next to her, hands folded in her lap. She hasn't set foot in the Miami office since she moved to California. There's something murky about the area that makes Ally want to run outside and bask in the sunshine.
Ryland leans in to pick up her pen, but Ratliff stops her. "We're just gonna sign contracts without getting a lawyer to read them?" Ratliff asks, looking back at the group. Riker's eyebrows pull in together, and he looks away from the contract. Rocky rolls his eyes, while the corners of Ryland's mouth turn down.
"Well," She starts.
Trish looks at the group with concern in her eyes. "I kind of just explained everything in the contracts, but they're written in pretty simple terms. You can read them yourselves, or I can get the lawyers that wrote them up to come and explain them for you…" Her voice trails off at the blank looks of the people in front of her. Without warning, Rocky grabs one of the pens and scribbles his name where Trish pointed. Trish's eyebrows rise, but soon everyone else leans in to sign their names on the piece of paper.
"We're going to need Ross's legal guardian to sign his contract as well." Trish says as Ross presses a pen to the heavy white paper that is his contract. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and his eyes shoot towards Riker, whose eyes grow wide.
"Why?" Rocky asks, leaning forward in his chair. Trish eyes the band warily, her eyes darting between Rocky, Riker, and Ross.
"Because he's a minor," Trish says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. She looks over to Ally, who slides down in her seat. "Is that going to be a problem?" She asks, looking back at the band. The room is silent, and Ross seems to be pleading with Riker with a look.
No one speaks as Riker pick his pen up again and signs his name next to Ross's on the boy's contract. Trish's eyebrows scrunch together. "I thought that-"
"Riker's my older brother." Ross says; his voice soft as he looks down at his hands. Trish eyes the band suspiciously. Ally knows that Riker is Ross's older brother, but she doesn't understand why it's such a big deal that he signs the contract. She wonders if they're drug dealers, but pushes the thought out of her head when Ross's eyes lock onto hers. She looks down at her lap and Trish clears her throat after mumbling something in Spanish.
"Alright," She says to herself before standing up. She holds out her hand towards Ratliff, who's at the farthest end of the table. He tentatively holds out his hand for her shake, and she gives him a large smile. She turns towards Rydel, who's bouncing on her toes. "This is so exciting!" She squeals. Trish smiles even wider, if that's possible. "It is for me, too. You can't imagine how long I've been waiting for artists like you five to come around." She turns to the side and holds her hand out at Riker, who stares at her hand for a minutes before shaking it.
Rydel and Ross wear matching grins while Ratliff chuckles and shakes his head at the way they're acting. "So do you guys have a band name?" Ally pipes up from her spot next to Trish. Each member of the band turns to look at the other before they speak in unison.
"R5."
"We're a real band, with contracts and everything!" Rydel squeals for what has to be the millionth time as Riker drives the van down the streets of Miami with a smirk on his face. Ratliff rattles his drumsticks on the van floor, while Rocky lets out a yell. "We're gonna make it big time!"
Ross leans back in the front seat, a grin taking up most of his face. Being signed is something that he's only ever dreamed of, and to have it happen in one day makes him feel like he's in the middle of a dream and is going to wake up in a few minutes. He pinches his arm, but Rocky is still screaming, Ratliff is sill rattling, and Ry is still kicking the back of his seat.
Riker pulls the car up to the front of the house, but doesn't stop the engine when he sees the car in the driveway. "I thought that he's working until six today." He says, his voice hard. Ross sticks his head towards the window, his eyes unreadable. Rydel stares at him with crossed arms. The excitement from their earlier meeting slowly drifts out of the car window.
"Maybe the meeting finished early." Ross says, clearing his throat when his voice breaks. All eyes are on him, but he doesn't meet anyone's eyes. "I can go through the window." He offers, but Riker shakes his head with a disgusted grimace. He starts to turn the car around. "Where are you going?" Ross exclaims, his eyes growing wide.
Riker turns off the engine, and the van jerks to a stop. "Where does he think you are now?" He asks, his voice quiet.
"Summer school," Ross mumbles.
No one says anything. They all know that Ross's summer school excuses is what earned him the bruises that cover his upper body, and is why he's had to wear the sweatshirt all day. Rocky shakes his head, his hands tightening into fists. "You're coming back to the apartment with us." He says like it's obvious.
Riker puts his hands back on the wheel, but Ross shakes his head frantically. "He'll kill me if I don't show up."
"Remember last time?" Ryland pipes up in a small voice. Riker winces as he remembers one of the earlier attempts to get Ross out of the house, when he just brought his younger brother home with him.
"It'll be better than you having to go back in there." Riker says, his eyes glued to the steering wheel. His eyes snap up towards the windows of the house when the white curtains move to the side and Mark appears, waving at the van with a grin on his face. Ross bites his lip.
Ratliff shakes his head. "It'll be worse if the cops have to raid the apartment for drugs again. You can't help him if you're in jail or worse-" He says, his voice a whisper.
"I don't care!" Riker snaps. Ratliff grips his drum sticks in his hands, and Ross can't help but notice how quiet everything is without their happiness filling the van.
"Guys, don't fight." Ross raises his voice. His brother doesn't look at him, but stares at the window again. Mark is just standing there, seemingly waiting for Ross to come into the house. The grin is plastered onto his face, and makes Ross feel sick.
"You have to call if something happens this time, because the light flicking thing isn't working." Ratliff says. His voice is still quiet, and Ross knows that the whole situation makes him upset. He nods slowly, before looking at the rest of the band and giving a small wave. His hands tremble as he opens the passenger door, and he gulps. He doesn't want any of them to see him looking afraid. They already know what might happen to him. They don't need to worry anymore.
"Your brother gave you a ride home from summer school? Now isn't that sweet." Mark greets Ross when he reaches the door. Ross doesn't meet his eyes, but Mark grabs his arm with an iron grip. He knows what's coming. Mark turns around and waves at the van that still sits there. Ross can see Rocky sticking his middle finger out of the window.
"What lovely friends he's made." Mark mumbles before dragging Ross inside and locking the door. He wonders if they stick around long enough to hear his screams.
Ally walks into her empty hotel room. It's nice enough, with a clean carpet and freshly made bed, but her heart aches for something to make her feel more at home. She lets out a sigh as she throws herself onto the covers of the bed, before turning to the nightstand and picking up her book. She remembers the days when her father would eye the book suspiciously from across the dinner table whenever she scribbled ideas down. He never said anything. She wishes that he cared enough to visit one of her concerts, so that he can see what his silence did for her.
She sits in silence for a few moments, flipping past the songs that were written when she was nineteen. It was just a year ago, but it feels like it was a lifetime ago. She can practically see the razor gliding across her skin as she reads through one of the songs. The vision is overwhelming. She shuts the book, and drops it back on the nightstand. She hasn't written anything remotely happy in three years. Her only excuse is that it's harder than it looks.
Ally pulls her phone out of her pocket, hoping for something to distract her, but she doesn't have any messages. She bites at her lip as she thinks about R5. It was an awesome name, one that she's jealous of. She didn't get to think of any cool names when she was first signed. She lets out another sigh, and is bothered by the way that it seems to echo in the empty room. She presses her feet back onto the carpeted floor, and starts to walk towards the door.
She's down the stairs and out of the door in no time, glasses perched on top of her nose. She hops into her rental car, and no one gives her a second glance as she makes her way down the Miami streets. Her car leads her towards the store, following a route that's permanently etched into her mind.
Ally parks her car a few feet away and shuts the door. The outside of the store doesn't look any different, with the same vibrant colors and sign hanging next to the door. People walk around her to get into the door, and she notices someone pointing at her and whispering to someone else. She hurries around the store and to the staircase on the side.
The door isn't locked when she gets to the top, but she lets out a short scream when she sees Ross sitting in front of a piano, the piano that Ally used to sneak up and play whenever her dad wasn't paying attention. His eyes dart up towards her, and she sees a black ring surrounding his right eye. She starts to shake her head at him, letting out another yelp. He crosses the room in two long strokes and pulls her into the room, shutting the door behind her.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you getting into fights? Selling drugs? And you're what, seventeen? I've known Trish for a pretty long time, and she'll drop you from the label in a blink of an eye if she finds out that you're into that sort of stuff-" Ally rambles while whipping off her sunglasses. Ross tries to interrupt her, but ends up placing both of his hands over her mouth.
"Look, I promise that I'm not into any of that stuff, alright?" Ross says in a rushed voice. His eyes are big, and the honey brown color is mesmerizing. Ally stares back at him with wide eyes, still shocked that he's in her old office. The walls are a dingy white color and the rest of the room is still pretty empty, but the piano is still in the same place. It gives Ally an odd feeling, like she's truly back at home.
Ross tentatively pulls his hands off of her mouth, but doesn't step backwards. Ally searches his eyes, which are filled with surprise and something else. She opens her mouth to say something, but pauses when she sees more dark blotchy spots on his arms. "Then what were you doing?" She asks, her voice coming out softer than she thought that it would be. Her hand reaches up to touch the black eye.
Ross takes a step back from her, reaches for the sweatshirt resting on the chair in front of the piano. He tries to shove it over his head, but Ally sees the gigantic bruise on his stomach as he does so. "Nothing," He says in a muffled voice. "I tripped."
Ally stares at him, clearly unconvinced. "You bruised your whole body by tripping?" She asks, folding her arms. She tries to remember back when she was in high school. Her razor was always ready whenever she needed a way to relieve stress, but she didn't go around bruising herself. She's not even sure how she would do that. Jump off of a roof?
"Forget it. It's really none of your business anyway," He mumbles as he sits back down at the piano. She looks behind him and thinks that she can see a black and white poster of her sitting at a piano, her eyes closed and her hair fanned out around her. She clears her throat as she walks towards the piano.
"You know, if someone's hurting you, it's okay to tell." She says, keeping her voice soft. "Even if it's someone that you're afraid to tell on, like your friends or the rest of the band…"
"They would never hurt me." Ross snaps, his voice cutting off hers. Ally blinks, taken back. Her eyes dart back towards the poster of herself at the wall. Ross's eyes follow hers, and she smiles a little bit at the blush that fills his cheeks. "Rocky got that for me as a joke…" He says, his voice trailing off.
Ally nods, the smile still on her face. "Whatever you say."
On the inside, she worries about where Ross could've gotten the bruises. She believed him when he told her that he wasn't getting into fights or selling drugs, but where else would he have gotten all of these injuries? Her mind reels. Is he covering up for someone in the band? They all seemed pretty chummy, and she can't imagine any of them throwing a punch to Ross's eye.
"You've written some pretty amazing songs." Ross compliments. Ally's head snaps towards him, but he's already staring at her. She drops her eyes down towards the keys, hoping that he can't see the red of her face. She shouldn't be reacting this way to compliment from a teenager. She's twenty years old, and gets compliments from kids his age all of the time. She forces the smile on her face to stay put.
"Thanks," She says. Her fingers inch towards the keys and before long, she's playing the melody to one of her popular songs. She can feel Ross's eyes on her. Her fingers glide across the keys in a fluid motion, and she finally knows that she's home within her music.
"Step one – you say, 'We need to talk.'
He walks, you say, 'Sit down. It's just a talk.'
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
And you begin to wonder why you came,"
Ally pauses when she realizes that she's been singing, and her eyes pop open to see Ross staring at her with wide honey brown eyes. "Y-you're fantastic." He gushes, eyes darting between her hands and her eyes. Ally knows that there's a blush on her cheeks, and she looks back down at the keys while placing her hands in her lap. "Thanks," She says again, a feeling of awkwardness spreading over her.
"I wanna be able to write like you someday." He continues, obviously oblivious to how uncomfortable she is. Her eyes dart back up to his, and she feels her heart breaking at the sight of his black eye.
"I'll bet that you're already better." She says evenly.
"Not even close," Ross shakes his head, a half smile on his face.
Ally notices how close she's sitting to him, and jumps to her feet. His eyebrows fly up and he looks startled. "You know that I used to write in here? My dad owned the place a few years ago," Ally says, changing the subject and hoping that Ross will open up about where he got the bruises. She guesses that he got them at home, but from who? And how did he sneak out and into the office? Her eyes dart towards the door leading inside of the store, and she wonders if anyone knows that they're here.
Ross looks around the room in surprise. "Really?" He scratches the back of his head, looking sheepish. "My friend Ratliff's parents own the store now. I come up here a lot when," He pauses and seems to realize that Ally's still in the room. "…when I want to be alone," He bites his lip and looks down at the piano keys. "My dad's pretty strict." His voice is a whisper.
His dad! That's who's doing this? Ally bites his lip. She doesn't like the way that the boy has deflated, but doesn't want to press the subject either. She points her thumb towards the door that leads outside. "Do you want to get some ice cream?" She asks, surprising herself. She remembers walking on the boardwalk and eating ice cream with her father and pushes the memories back down.
Ross looks up at her like she's crazy. "Are you serious?"
Ally nods, opening the door and holding it open for him. "Yeah, come on. It's on me." She grins. She never did get that cone filled with Fruity Mint Swirl, and she wants it now.
"I'm so sorry. It's never like this, I swear." Ally apologizes again. She can't believe that she's such an idiot. Why didn't she remember the paparazzi? She's wearing her glasses, but wonders if she should've let the boy wear them instead. His eyes are wide at each flash of a camera. His hand finds Ally's and grips it like a lifeline. She doesn't say anything else, and squeezes his hand, hoping that it will comfort him. He's going to have to get used to this when their band is out there.
The mob of paparazzi moves with each step that the pair takes.
"Ally, is this your boyfriend?"
"Ally, have you moved on from Dallas so quickly?"
"When's your new album coming out?"
"Who's this?"
"What's with all of the bruises?"
Ally's head snaps back towards Ross, and she remembers the bruises. She silently curses herself as she pushes against them even harder. "Move, please." She hisses. She wonders how Ross's father will react to the pictures. An image of an older man striking Ross across his face makes her shove the photographers to the side even harder.
The reach the parking lot where her car is parked, and Ross is quick to slide into the passenger seat and slam the door in the faces of the paparazzi. Ally pushes through the mob to get to the driver's side. She doesn't look to her side as she sticks her key into the ignition and drives through the crowd and onto the road.
I need to stop writing super long chapters. I think that it's because I want to get things done in each chapter. I don't like fillers. Anyways,
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