Oh my gosh, so so sorry about the delay. I know I said that I would update sometime in the beginning of May, but... I'm not even going to give an excuse... But, yeah. I stood up until 2:30 just to write and publish this. I just HAD to get it done. And I finally did. :3 Anyway, new chapter; it's...kinda dramatic, and... Yeah. :P Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


Of course, we have to do this. I saw it coming eventually.

We have to go see the girl.

The brunette.

The former songwriter.

The one and only – Ally Dawson.

I sigh. Of course.

What was I supposed to expect? That girl is the whole reason I'm on this trip. My stomach dropped at the thought of having to see her; like that feeling you get when you go down the first hill of a rollercoaster – except in a bad way. More like you were plummeting to your death and there was nothing you could do to stop yourself from doing so. Well, maybe not as bad as that, but still...

"So, let's get to it, shall we?" he says. I groan. "Oh, it won't be too bad."

"Whatever you say," I dismiss.

It was weird to think that I was going to be seeing my former songwriter for the first time. For the first time in years – three years to be exact. Though, to be honest, I wasn't really sure what to expect. Surely, things couldn't be exactly the same, right? All I know at the moment is that she's probably at Juilliard, considering that she hasn't graduated early.

As the ghost does his magic, I then find myself in a college dorm room. Despite the fact that it was late, a light was still lit in here. The light is shining on a keyboard, and sitting in front of that keyboard, is a certain brunette – Ally. I don't say anything at first; I watch instead.

The brunette moves her hands from the keys while an open songbook and pencil lies in front of her. I automatically know that she's writing a song. After every few notes she plays, the girl stops and writes something down in her songbook. She smiles at the page and then closes the book, putting it down on the floor next to her feet.

She licks her lips and I watch her place her fingers again on the keyboard. But she doesn't play. Her eyes scan the instrument, all 88 keys – I remember when she told me about the exact number one time.

I wonder what she's thinking about.

Just then, the door opens and I turn my head to see who it is. A tall curly-haired blonde walks into the dorm. She's in one of those tight dresses and I notice that her eyes make her look like she's distressed, yet a smile is written on her face anyway.

"Hey," she says. "So you decided not to come to the party, huh?"

Ally sighs and nods. "Yeah, sorry, Maya, I know I said I would. But I kind of wanted to just write for a while."

"Oh. New song?"

"Yeah. Not too sure about it though."

"Then, can I hear it?" she smiles.

The brunette grins in return, and puts her hands on the keys again. This time, she does start playing and sings the words too. "'Cause if we find a single diamond in the rough, then it's worth it. Through a thousand tears if there's one drop of love, then it's worth it."

Ally came to an abrupt song, but to cough into her elbow before continuing. "Let me feel what I gotta feel for a glimpse of something real. I don't care how much it hurts. It is worth it, it's worth it, it's worth it..."

I notice her facial expression as she sings the rest. I start to see the same distressed look in her eyes that I earlier saw in Maya's. But she goes on with the song anyway. In a way, she looks tired, yet still wide awake simultaneously. I know that look though. She's thinking about something...deeper.

When she finishes, she looks up from the instrument and asks, "So, what do you think?"

Maya sighs. "I think you're becoming like T-Swift."

"What?"

Rolling her eyes, the blonde says, "You're being obvious here. Who's the song about?"

Ally gives her a blank expression, as if confused. "The song isn't about anyone. It's just a song I came up with."

Her friend shakes her head. "No. You once told me that a song was never just a song. That there was always a story behind it."

Again, the brunette sighs. "The one time you actually listen to me talk about music..."

Maya laughs. "But, come on. This isn't about-"

"Aaron? No, of course not."

"Okay, then who? He's the only guy I've seen you with."

Ally shrugs.

Biting her lip, Maya looks around the room as if something in here were to give something away. Then, her eyes veer to Ally's nightstand. She gets up, and picks up the picture frame on it – the one on Ally's graduation day.

After looking at the photo for a few seconds, she says, "It can't be him, can it?"

"Who?"

"The blond-y rock star – Austin."

"Oh." I notice that she hesitates. "No. Of course not."

Maya set the frame back down. "I know it's been a long time, but, what if..." Her voice trails off, and she eyes the brunette.

"No. You're right, it has been a long time, but no."

The girl stared at the brunette, as if waiting for her to say something else, but she doesn't. "Okay," she says.

The scene in front of me suddenly pauses and vanishes all together.

I furrow my eyebrows and look at the ghost beside me. "What are you doing?"

"Eh... You don't mind if I- you know, skip just a little ahead, do ya?"

I stare at him for a second. Skip ahead? Is that even possible for him? I thought he was the Ghost of Loves' Present or whatever he calls himself.

"Not much happens after, to be honest, but it's just... The next morning and that's it. I can go into the next morning."

"How?"

"I have the power to go from the past to present to future at any time as long as the time frame is within the next 24 hours. And since it is..."

I shrug. "So be it."

I imagine the brunette and what she could possibly be doing, but the thought only somewhat irks me. I keep the empty frown on, the mask of invulnerability. But without the mask, on the inside, I can feel a single butterfly break away from its cocoon...


Fast forward to the next morning. I find myself and the ghost in a room larger than the one before. I notice that there are various instruments organized into certain types – brass, wind, percussion, string, electronic, and keyboard. The walls are white and black music notes are painted on them. A huge glass-paned window is off to the side showing a view of a typical busy morning in The Big Apple.

Near the window is a black grand piano. And near the piano is a brunette, with a phone pressed to her ear. Her expression is wistful as I hear a faint voice come from the phone. She turns to look out the window, as if trying to find something among the crowded streets.

"Look, Mom," she says into the phone. "It's been over three years since I've moved here, and moved on from it. What's the point?"

The faint voice says something to the brunette over the line.

At the comment that's made, the girl knits her eyebrows. "No, I don't really keep up with that kind of news. Why? What is it?" And after another silent moment, "But, Mom, I-"

Another pause. Off into the distance, a car honks down below in the streets.

"Okay, okay, I'll check. I promise," she finally says, before setting the phone down on the surface of the piano.

The girl walks to the window so that she could clearly see her reflection in it. Her eyes scan what she can see of the city's skyline. It looks nice outside: blue sky, bright sun, and scattered clouds. Though, she sighs anyway and goes back to the piano, taking a seat on the polished wooden bench. I catch her eyes veer to her smart phone and she picks it up again.

Within the next minute, I notice her eyes go from left to right, left to right. She's reading something.

"Austin Moon released from Starr Records..." she reads to herself, eyes widened. "What?" Her fingers slide up on the touch screen, obviously wanting to read more of whatever is on the screen. I'm not surprised by the article; I already knew I was screwed with the media. I almost forgot that I wasn't signed to a record label anymore.

When the girl puts her phone down again, she sighs. Then, just like the last scene, her hands are placed on the piano keys and she starts to play. I thought that she would be playing the song that I had heard from her not too long ago, but I suppose I was wrong. "The me that you don't see is praying there's a chance you still believe. Tell me that I'm worth it," the brunette closes her eyes as she continues. "I'll prove that I deserve it, and I can be the me that you don't see."

The brunette stops there, letting the melody fade away, the song unfinished. Her eyes open and she looks at the songbook also on top of the piano. She takes it in her hands and opens it up to a certain page that's evidently marked. She stares at whatever is etched on the page, and though I don't get the chance to see what it is, I'm able to notice the change in her expression. It goes from thoughtful to anxious. And then it transfers from anxious to resolute.

Almost immediately, she gets up from the piano bench, stumbling on her heels, and gathers her things. The brunette rushes out of the music room and the last I get to hear of her before silence is the clicking of her heels.

Before I get the chance to say anything, I'm suddenly back in the darkness of what I recognize as my apartment bedroom. Done already, huh?

"Yes, we are actually done already," the ghost answers straight-away. "Or at least, I am." I forgot the fact that he could read my mind, for some reason.

"So, anyway, what did you think?" The ghost's red cloak starts to glow, giving off a warm sensation in the chilly room. I wrap part of the blanket on my bed around me.

I take a moment to think – about it all. Everything I saw. The thoughts wrench in my stomach, like a hard knot is tied and I can't untie it. I don't know what to say, so I answer, "I don't know."

The ghost says nothing back, but from his knowing look that he already knows what's on my mind. I'm about to say something else, but then I realize something.

That brunette. She probably thinks I'm still some bastard. A bastard who was unable to keep the record label he's had for so long. A bastard who wasn't able to make the right choices.

But no, that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all. I didn't get released from my record label. I released my record label from me. I never made the wrong choices; I'm sure I made the right ones. I was fine; just fine. I could find another record label that's twice as better as Starr Records, and I would never make the wrong choices; I made the right ones. I'm Austin Moon. Austin Moon is no weak and wrong-minded bastard.

Not only that, but I didn't need the sick brunette, Ally. I didn't need the dumb blonde, Zoey. I didn't need the heartless man, Jimmy. I didn't need the malicious Latina, Trish. I didn't need the idiotic redhead, Dez. I didn't need any of them.

My blood starts to boil around this. I can feel the ghost's hard stare at me, reading my exact thoughts, and I could tell that he doesn't like what he's seeing, though I didn't care. Maybe it's because him and the other ghosts wanted the plan to be different. But not everything goes as planned, does it? Did their plans always go as they wanted them to? Did all of the other victims who went on little journeys like them end up with who the ghosts wanted them to be? Did they all really think that they were these perfect matchmakers? That they knew everything?

Did they really think that after showing me a bunch of scenes that I'd wind up professing love? The thought itself sickens me.

I wanted to punch something. My fists are now clenched, and my fingernails dig into my skin. It almost starts to hurt, but I stand and attempt a jab at the ghost.

He doesn't even time to react – in fact, he doesn't at all. The jab goes right through him, and I end up stumbling a few steps forward.

The ghost turns to me. I notice a soft look in his eyes, but I didn't need his pity. What's there to pity for me anyway? Nothing, correct? Absolutely nothing. Yet, the look in his eyes seems to calm me in the slightest bit.

The red figure sighs. "Regardless of the anger that controls you at the moment, you might want to clear your head for some time to really think about everything. But in my opinion," he pauses momentarily, as if wondering how else to phrase his next words. "What you just saw in that music room not too long ago is what should have told you about what matters."

"About what matters?" I ask.

In a lighter voice, he says, "That she cares, of course. She still cares, she still loves."

I say nothing.

"But I guess your own heated thoughts prevent you from really seeing that. I suppose that the third brother might get through to you."

I say nothing.

"I wish you the best of luck, Austin Moon. Maybe soon you'll see the light and believe that you'll find the girl that you don't see."

In that moment, he then fades into the background and disappears entirely, as if he was never there in the first place. I can feel the atmosphere of the room slowly go back to how it was originally in the early night – cold.

I crawl back under to the covers of my bed, expecting to feel comforted. Though instead, I feel uneasiness settle in my stomach, like a rock slowly sinking into a lake. I start to toss around in bed, trying to find the most comfortable spot as possible, but I can't. And it bothers me that I can't.

I lie on my back, staring at the emptiness of my ceiling. I try to listen to what the ghost said earlier: to clear my head for a while to think. But, I resisted the urge to anyway. Though my breathing is calm, I feel like the beat of my heart grows faster with each second.

I close my eyes and try to clear my mind, and although I can sense the uneasiness start to float away, I can also feel the part of me that continues to repeat that I am Austin Moon. And Austin Moon is not weak, nor is he wrong-minded.


So... What do you think? Tell me what you think in a review! :)

Austin has been visited by both the Ghost of Loves' Past and Present. Now there's just one more left... I wonder what'll happen next. ;)