Summary: He messed up in the past; now she belongs to someone else. One fateful wish may be all he needs to win her back. He had one last chance. He better not screw it up a second time. Auslly, AU.
A/N: 1st chapter didn't give much background info, only a few things here and there, and many of you guys were confused, but chapter 2 should explain everything. If it doesn't, it'll be clearer in the future. It's a little longer than the previous chapter, but not by much. Hopefully next chapter will be much longer… At this point, it seems like the story will span over 5 chapters – most likely this will be a 7-10-chapter story. Thank you for the wonderful reviews! They motivate me to write! :D
Warnings: OOC, Not beta'd, swearing/language (Mostly Austin's fault. _), etc.
Reviews, question, comments, or constructive criticism? Yes, please!
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Austin&Ally. I wish. But, no.
CH II:
S. T. A. R. T. I. N. G. P. O. I. N. T.
Sunlight shown in from the window creaks, landing and touching everything in reach of the room.
The figure on the bed was a man, who was sprawled all over the mattress. He was lying comfortably on his back, with a comforter on his body.
He was dressed in a long sleeved undershirt and a t-shirt over it. He was wearing dark blue jeans that had several rips. It was apparent that he had not changed before falling asleep. As a result, his clothes were ruffled with the long night of sleep.
He groaned when light shown on his face, and rolled over onto his front. He moved his face towards the pillow and promptly stuffed his face into the object, obscuring his face from any light. He omitted several hissed of pain as he carried out his action.
His head was aching like hell.
What did he do last night to causing him such pain?
He groaned.
All he knew was whatever he did earned him a huge hangover.
He groggily tried to get rid of sleep induced coma he was experiencing. He shuffled a couple of times on the bed to wake him up.
'What time was it?' he thought once he was able to sort his mixed matched thoughts.
He slowly peaked his head out of the pillow and opened one bleary eye. He blinked a couple of times to clear his vision before moving his line of vision to the table beside his bed and glanced at the clock.
10:37 A.M.
He released a frustrated sigh and rolled onto his back so that he was sprawled over with his face to the ceiling. His two muscular tan arms went behind his head for support as he relaxed.
He was alone in his room. It felt weird, as if someone else were supposed to be with him, also.
Something was nagging at the back of his mind, screaming at him, relating to the time displayed in the clock.
Strange. 10:37 A.M. rang no bells in his head.
10:37 A.M.
What was so significant about that time?
He groaned and shifted his head for a minute. His head still hurt – no complicated thinking at this time. He was still recovering from the hangover. No more thinking.
Even at his demands, his head pumped images of last night's dream came flooding into his mind like a dam that was cracked.
He abruptly got into a sitting position, ignoring the pounding in his head.
His mind reeled back in thought.
She… she wouldn't break up with him, would she?
She wouldn't leave him for that bastard Houston, would she?
She wouldn't cut all ties from him, would she?
…She wouldn't hate him, would she?
A hand went through his hair, combing it uncertainly and ruffling it messily, more than it was at the moment.
Was it true? Did he… did he honestly mess things up with her so that she cut off all relations with him?
Before he could immerse himself deeper into thought, his phone on the beside began ringing and vibrating wildly. It continued to ring, but he refused to pick it up, hoping that his refusal to answer the phone would give a hint to he caller that he didn't want to speak to him or her.
After five rings, the phone stopped all motion and the screen turned blank after a few seconds.
He exhaled in relief. His head hurt like a motherfucker. He drew his hand out of his hair and began to message his temple, as if it would take the pain away.
And then the phone began ringing, again, after a minute or two of silence.
He swore loudly.
A pulse of pain surged through him. He nursed his head, recovering from the major headache.
He, once again, left the phone alone, hoping that he or she would leave him alone.
Likewise, the phone rang five times before stopping.
He groaned. He fell back on his back and sighed.
What was he going to do today? He could have sworn that he had a writing session with A-
RING
He got into a sitting position.
"Freaking hell!" he all but shouted in aspiration. His head was pounding, and all he wanted was some peace and quiet. His head hurt enough without the noise.
Add the noise and give him a damn headache the size of Texas, would ya? It's not like he had anything to do today. He was a free man today; maybe he should go to a club and get drunk, or something… But the damn phone was ringing like crazy and disrupting his morning hangover.
It was the third time this person had called. He, or she, would get a piece of his mind!
He grumpily picked up his cell phone, without identifying the ID, and all but growled into the speaker.
"You listen here, Aus-" a female voice rang from the other end, laced with malice, as soon as he picked up her call, but she was cut off before she could finish her rant.
"What the hell do you want?" he spit out. She cleared her throat, trying to interject.
"All I want to say is –" Once again, she was interrupted.
"I have a fucking hangover the size of Texas right now! Whoever you are – "
"Wha-?"
The voice on the other end of the phone abruptly stopped talking. Previously, she had been trying to raise her voice so that he could hear her, her voice was clamoring with his, but she was rendered speechless at his statement. No sound came from her end.
" – you better have a damn good reason for calling at this time. Think before calling me." The speaker finally spoke up after a minute of silence in a monotone voice.
"It's your songwriter, Ally Dawson." His eyes widened in shock and in revelation and he promptly shut his mouth.
Holy shit!
"Am I important enough to interrupt your hangover, or am I interrupting you, jerk?" He immediately jumped in and added his side of the story, trying to interject.
"Ally, no, I'm – "
" – too busy partying and indulging in the wonderful life of fame and fortune for focusing on your friends and family?"
"No!" he quickly denied. "No," he denied again, albeit more quietly, as if he were trying to convince himself.
"Two years ago you would have not gone to parties like you do daily, now…"
He realized that maybe he was a little irresponsible and neglecting his friends a bit, but he didn't mean to! Partying was just a joy to him. "Ally, wait, hear me out, please – "
"No, Austin. I'm sorry I wasted your time, which you could have used to nurse your hangover. I just wanted to remind you of our scheduled songwriting time today at eight."
"Two years ago you would have remembered out songwriting sessions."
Shit!
His eyes quickly darted to the clock in frustration.
10:43 A.M.
And then it hit him. Holy shit! No wonder his mind was nagging at him about the time. He was nearly three hours late for their writing session!
Fuck!
"Frankly, you find it not "a damn good reason" for calling at this time."
"Ally, it's not like that. I was just out late last night. No – I meant I – I was busy – No, I was just out." His words were scrambled in frustration. He was making up excuses; he knew it. He just didn't want her to be mad at him. In fact, the last person on earth he wanted her to be mad at was him. "I… I just forgot about the meeting today. I was busy – "
"'I was busy,'" she reiterated in an emotionless tone. He winced slightly at her monotone voice. "You always use that bullshit excuse. But why am I not surprised?" He cringed at her accusation, and her cursing. She rarely cursed, and when she did, she was passionate. "You missed three of our four scheduled sessions in this week alone. And that doesn't even included the numerous of times you missed our sessions in this month alone." He frowned, knowing that she was right about him.
"Just listen, please Ally – "
"No, Austin. If you don't listen to me, why should I? Fame has gotten to you, Austin. What happened to you?"
"Nothing, Ally," he whispered. "I'm still the same guy you know, Als." She breathed quietly on the other end. He could hear her shaky intake of air.
"You changed," she stated quietly, almost non-audible.
And then something snapped inside of him at her accusation.
"Damn it, Ally! Let me fucking explain before you jump to bullshit excuses!" he exclaimed in annoyance.
"Two years ago you wouldn't have sworn like you are now."
She inhaled sharply at his outburst.
His eyes widened in terror.
Shit! He took it too far that time. He didn't mean to snap at her; he was just too frustrated at the moment and he had a massive headache that was influencing his thoughts and actions. In fact, he had never snapped at Ally, ever. In fact, he rarely snapped at anyone at all. He was normally an outgoing and loving guy. Something just gave him an impulse to do just that.
"Two years ago you wouldn't have snapped at me."
It would be best to apologize quickly.
"Ally, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to snap at – "
"No. Austin. I'm tired of this," she whispered. Her voice got louder. "I'm tired of fighting with you. You changed. Fame and fortune transformed you into this… this guy I'm talking to right now. You're not this kind of person, Austin. What happened?"
"Two years ago would have been the old Austin."
"…" She continued her speech, ignoring his silence.
"Two years ago you would have not gone to parties like you do daily, now… Two years ago you would have remembered out songwriting sessions. Two years ago you wouldn't have sworn like you are now. Two years ago you wouldn't have snapped at me. Two years ago would have been the old Austin. Now, you're the new Austin, who loves to party, who constantly forgets our writing session, who swears every second of the day… wh-who snaps at m-me at the littlest th-things…" She paused, her voice cracking at the end of her sentence. She sharply inhaled, trying to gain her composure.
"I…"
"Good-bye, Austin."
"Wait!" he cried out, imploring her to listen to him.
The connection cut, leaving a loud beep in its wake from the other end of the line.
He remained motionless at the silence.
'Your call has ended. The person you have called has ended the phone call. Please leave a message after the beep – ' a feminine voice from her phone echoed into his ears.
He threw the phone at the wall and swore.
He threw the covers off his body and got to his feet, walking to the nearest wall, which he promptly punched as soon as he reached the foundation.
He ignored the pain pulsing through his injured hand and began shouting at the wall in his anger.
Fuck!
He messed up, big time.
He stopped as his head began beating harder than it had all morning. His mind went blank as he recalled being in this previous situation.
It's as if he's been through this same situation before.
Déjà vu.
"Now, you're the new Austin, who loves to party, who constantly forgets our writing session, who swears every second of the day… wh-who snaps at m-me at the littlest th-things…"
He leaned his forehead against his open palm and began trying to will the headache he accumulated the previous night away.
He was trying to recall what was happening.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he has a whim that he would go to the Sonic Boom and apologize her. It was as if he could already tell the future – like he's been through this whole ordeal in the past –
He snapped his head up and stared straight at the wall as images from the "night before" bubbled into his mind.
He remembered now!
Last night, he was outside in the patio of the house and he saw a shooting star. He remembered wishing that he had another chance to make things right with her.
And he was given another chance.
…A once in a lifetime opportunity.
Did God grant him this last chance? Did he truly deserve this?
Whatever the answer was, he was lucky.
Someone had given him another chance in life.
When he had lost her, he had felt like his whole world was falling apart.
Only with her by his side did he feel complete.
And he did have everything he could possibly need – friends, family, fame, fortune… and most importantly, her – his girlfriend. His world was complete.
He just needed it to stay that way.
No more mistakes.
He clenched his hands together tightly in resolution.
This time… this time he would fix things with her. He wouldn't make the same mistakes twice.
"You changed…"
With Ally's speech clearly in his mind, he hardened his resolution.
He would start making things right, starting today.
No more mistakes.
"You changed…"
A/N:
Updates range from 5-12 days.
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Questions, comments? Oh, and did anyone catch my hints? ;) –wink-wink- More clues to Austin's mistakes, no? Honestly, I'll let you on my secret: I'm making up the plot as I go. ;) If you have any suggestion, tell me! I really appreciate it!
Let me elaborate – we know that Austin is, by Ally's rant: partying daily, forgetting their songwriting sessions (he did neglect to go to their session in the Burglars & Boobytraps episode, but that's a little different... He actually made it up to her at the end of this episode... in this story, he doesn't, really...ish...), snapping at Ally and others (i.e. Trish & Dez), swearing like a sailor – basically, he's been transformed by fame.
Any other notable clues you would like to address? What do you think happened? Let's see how far fame has changed the Austin we all know and love...
Drop me a line? (: