A/N: I hope you all are enjoying so far. Again, I'm trying to push these chapters to get them in a certain word category so the story will get noticed easier. Also, I wanted to let you all know that in this story Dez and Trish are older than Austin but they all are over 21. You find out a little more about Trish and Dez in this chapter. Dez and Austin's Bromance is displayed here. Another thing: If you couldn't tell already Dez and Trish are very professional but fun. Dez isn't the crazy kid from Disney. He's big brother-ish.

Yup. Let's get this show on the road shall we.

Chapter Three

Ally)

"Are you sure you don't want me to pick you up?" I asked for the third time.

"It's just a blown tire, Ally. Tow truck is on its way," Jess responded with an exasperated sigh. "Plus, I've already notified Trish on the whole situation. I'll be at practice as soon as I can."

"Alright, alright. Later Jess."

"Peace girl."

On the way to the practice area for rehearsal, Jess' Camaro had a spike of bad luck.

And by a spike, I mean there was an industrial sized nail quickly deflating one of her rear tires. Of course, being the self-righteous girl she is, Jess simply called her insurance and had a truck directed her way without a second thought about it. She's never been one to moan and groan over the small things but rather search out the problem and make a change.

Of course, that has resulted in her getting trouble and, as best friend, me going down with her.

Now she's busy taking care of business and I'm pacing around the rehearsal entrance with my phone glued to my ear like her mother waiting for her to get home from a date past midnight.

Not only did that spike mess with Jess' day but mine as well. I don't mean to sound selfish here, but Jess is my dance partner and I've never really been quite fond of dancing without her. But that was how the day was going to have to go though.

It had only been a month since auditions. After some basic practices, we moved our rehearsals from the theater stage to a full arena. Trish had paid for five months of reservation time. After auditions, she wasted no time hauling the tour's equipment into the arena. It turned out to be double the expected amount of merchandise and backdrops and soon created a maze throughout the arena.

Guitar strumming met my ears once our phone call ended. I was about a half an hour early and only a hand full of people had arrived yet. Some sound and lighting crew for sure, but who would be playing the musicians' guitars.

Anyone who signed a contract with Trish knows to only touch your own equipment per her highlighting it within the contract. She wanted to avoid further expenses than what's planned and broken equipment would not be handled lightly with her. Some of the other lucky dancers had been put in charge of t-shirt and confetti cannons while, of course, the musicians oversaw their instruments; amps and all.

Who would want to be kicked off the tour before it's even begun.

The notes were getting sloppy and whoever was playing the acoustic guitar was obviously becoming frustrated. There was strumming, strumming, wrong note, and then a string of course words.

My dad owns a music store and has virtually my entire life. It was only right for him to pass down the musical skills he had learned as a kid to his own. Acoustic guitar is relaxing and borderline therapeutic. It's melodic sound and vibration against your skin can lull any savage beast into a sweet slumber.

It would only be kind if I helped the poor beast relax.

I ventured further into the rehearsal area in search for the source of the strumming.

After some bends and turns around the crowded room, I came across one beanie clad person hunched over an acoustic. He was perched on an amp starring too intently at the guitar in his hand to notice my approach.

I cleared my throat and the stranger was quick to move his gaze upward. Hazel eyes stared back at me and blonde hair peaked from under the gray beanie.

Austin Moon.

"I uhm.."

Okay, Ally, let's not be awkward.

"I don't think your guitar is in tune," I awkwardly stated. Moving my gaze from bright eyes to the guitar in question, I gestured for him to pass the acoustic over for me to fix.

I completely expected the lopsided grin and upward drawn eyebrow that I received in response.

Still, the popstar handed the acoustic over by the neck of the guitar. I reached forward and grasp the instrument and studied its brand before strumming myself. With the weight of the instrument I searched for somewhere to sit. Austin promptly stood and silently offered his amp for me to sit on. With a curt nod, I sat and went to work. Hearing the off chords, I quickly went to adjusting the strings.

I could feel his eyes on me as my fingers moved over the strings. Probably making sure I wasn't damaging the instrument. "My father owns a music store in South Miami. Tuning the instruments was an everyday chore at home as a young girl," I stated trying to add some noise to the silence.

I looked over my eyelashes at him as I gave on final satisfied strum and pointed the neck back towards him to grab with my other hand held out for him to shake.

"My name is Ally Dawson."

(Austin)

"Have you ever felt electricity with someone?"

"Austin, we're watching the television together right now. So, yeah, I guess."

"Dez, I'm serious."

"Well, on the love aspect, you know I have," Dez lowered the volume on the flat screen ahead of us and

turned to face me on the couch. "I mean, Austin, you were there the night I asked Trish to marry me. You're going to be standing next to me in two years-"

"Yeah, yeah I know. I'm really happy for you Dez."

"Thanks man," he responded with a fist bump. "But who is it that's brought these thoughts into young Austin Moon's mind?" He knocks on my head in a playful manner and I shoo his fist away.

"It's no where near serious first off," I started. Dez huffed sarcastically and rolled his eyes at my start-up. "But I also know damn well that no one has ever interested me as fast and easy as this girl has. Dez, I spent twenty minutes before practice talking only about music with her and slowly- slowly- I'm starting to fall, man."

Dez smiled at me as I talked. I felt as if I was repeating all the things he once stated to me a few years ago, when Team Austin had formed and he first met Trish.

He had been head over hills with no idea what to do.

"So, what's your plan?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, we didn't even start talking until this morning at rehearsal but honestly, I don't know how I could have possibly missed Ally's beau-"

"Nope."

I stopped and looked at him. I was shocked nonetheless. "What?"

"No, Austin. You cannot date Allyson."

"Wait Dez-"

"Austin, I love you man. You're like my brother. I've seen you go through girls like nobody's business-"

"Dez, wait-" I interrupted.

"No, listen Austin," I stopped and leaned back into the couch. I hadn't noticed how close we had gotten in mere seconds. I was defensive and overall needed to calm down. "Allyson is different than those girls. You may have an entire list on how she's way better than them, but one stands above the rest for me."

"What?" I asked honestly, my mind blank of any coherent thought since I'd officially met Ally Dawson.

"There's a fine line between work and play," Dez stated simply. "When work calls for you to be around each other for months on end, you probably don't want to test your boundaries."

I pushed past the fact that Dez and Trish met at the start of our little business. I didn't want an argument. I wanted his advice and that's what I got.

Honesty.

Scooting even further into the couch- if remotely possible-, I focused on my clasped hands in my lap. That was one solid point. I don't want to risk losing not only a great person but a great dancer from my life. And if Ally were to leave, her silver-haired friend was sure to follow.

I responded with a nod and reached to turn the television volume back up to a comfortable volume.

Even though the show was far from my mind.

Maybe I could walk the line, parse.

Test friendship.

And maybe, with this year of friendship, sparks felt today may just as well turn into fireworks tomorrow.