Hey everyone! I was not expecting such overwhelming support for my last chapter! You guys have literally stuck with me through a year's hiatus, and I can't thank you enough for continuing to read my story. Literally, you guys brought tears to my eyes. I promise to tell this story through, and right now, we are probably over half-way through. If you guys have any comments or suggestions, please do not hesitate to inform me! :) Love you guys so much! Please review and/or favorite so more people can read this as well! Thanks again! :)
Ally didn't know what to say.
A moment ago, she had the anger of the world stored inside of her heart, the clashing and guilt of right and wrong. She knew what he did to her didn't deserve an apology, but maybe what he did wasn't wrong after all? Maybe she could simply forgive him, give herself into the feeling that was he. The feel of his face between her hands, of the glow of blonde in her view; she knew from the moment she laid eyes on him that he would change her life. At one point, she thought that prospective was gone forever, and when he had positioned her between himself and the wall of the practice room, she felt those previous dreams re-ignite, but now it was like a cold cloth on a flame; she was dimming out.
"I…" She hesitated. After hearing him speak the words of a siren, she felt like a lost passenger at sea, desperate for the company of another, no matter the consequence, even though she knew exactly what it was. She could have him like this, or not have him at all. He seemed pretty absolute. Maybe it was her turn. Maybe they could be what they were.
"Maybe…we can try this," she finally muttered, as if the words were needles on her tongue, though she masked it fairly well. "I mean, you're right, Austin. I shouldn't have been so angry, but at the same time, we were kind of in a vague situation, but if we define this now…it shouldn't be a problem."
She could have swore she saw a flicker of disappointment cross his face, but if it had, it was gone the instant she saw it. He smiled warmly, and moved to put his arms around her in an almost awkward half-hug. They weren't used to having such strange boundaries imposed on their relationship, but maybe it was for the best. Maybe she should be with Dallas. Maybe she could forget what she overheard between him and Jimmy…
"Thank you, Ally," he spoke into her shoulder. "You really are my best friend."
Austin beat furiously at the punching bag; sweat was running in rivets off his face. All his concentration fixated on that red bag, as if it were his mortal enemy.
"Austin…are you alright?" Dez peaked around the side of the bag. "I'm pretty strong, but if you happen to punch through this, I may have to sue you."
Austin took a deep breath in exasperation. "Dez! You really think I can punch through this bag?"
"By the way you're acting, yea," Dez pushed the bag aside and went over to his colorful water bottle, dashed all around with stickers of local Miami eateries and special events. "What's been up with you? You've been punching like that this whole week."
Austin rolled his eyes and stared out of the nearby window, giving off the persona like he was mad at the world, when in reality, he was mainly mad at himself. "I'm sorry, man," he eventually said, staring down at the cushioned floor and shaking his head. "It's just—"
"Ally, isn't it?" Dez looked empathetically at his best friend.
Austin finally met his eyes. "Yea…I don't know what I did Dez. I thought I fixed it…" His golden orbs returned to the floor, a solemn posture inhabiting his body. It had been almost a whole month since he laid eyes on her. Somehow, she had had their dance lessons scheduled to where she would finish her routines before Austin ever made it to the studio; at least, he thought she had done that. She was unable to make it to his deluxe album release party, with Jimmy saying she wasn't feeling well that night. He had peaked in once or twice at Sonic Boom and had failed to see her there. All he was left with was an empty feeling that maybe there was no hope for them. Did she lie to him? What was going on?
"I thought you did too. I had talked to Trish the day after you told me about the talk Ally and you had, and I figured that everything would be normal again. I thought we'd have our group hangouts again, like old times…" Dez shook his head in disappointment. "I've tried asking her about it again, but she changes the subject every time."
Austin stared at the floor, waiting for the secrets of life and love and bravery to unfold before him. "Who knows…" he threw his gloves onto the floor and walked towards the locker room. Dez followed with the interest of a cop on a high-speed chase.
"You two have really got to figure this out…" Dez began, but Austin stopped dead in his tracks, turned around, and stared with an intensity that could burn down a whole city.
"Dez, what do you think I did when I talked to her?" His face began to turn red, "I
told her that I wanted to be her friend again, that having her in my life was better than not having her at all. And she looked understanding. I thought for sure we had talked it out, and now it's been a whole damn month—"
"Wait," Dez said, as if he had walked upon water or discovered the cure to cancer. "You don't know she's mad at you…you just haven't seen her, right?"
His best friend looked back at him with an arched eyebrow. "Yea, but—"
"BUT," Dez lifted an index finger. "You can't just assume that she's mad at you. Maybe they changed the dance schedule. Maybe she really was sick at the record party. Maybe she quit her job, who knows?"
"Yea, but…why wouldn't she have told me?" Austin's voice lowered almost to a whisper.
"You think it's easy for her?" Dez scoffed, rolling his eyes in an exasperated manner. "You haven't tried talking to her, have you? No calls, no texts, no other effort besides casually passing her store or running into her at dance practice? Maybe she feels afraid, because that's what you feel, right? Fear that you'll give it away that you still really like her? Fear that you can ruin the chance to be her friend again?"
The blonde-haired boy stared solemnly at the locker he was now at, waiting for the truth to bubble up from the depths of his muddled heart. Dez knew, of course, but was it that obvious? Could it be so easily seen? "Why would she feel that way, Dez? I hurt her."
"Yea, you may have," Dez shook his head in pity, "but you think she hurt you, and you're still pining over her."
The whistling tune of birds outside her window woke her from her slumber, as if insinuating that a perfect day was ahead of her.
But it wasn't going to be a perfect day.
Today was going to be messy, a big conglomerate of gathering things, of making sure she didn't leave anything behind, of last-minute phone calls to relatives she wouldn't see in a while. She would have to face things and ignore things and explain the rationale behind her actions for the past month, because as soon as her eyes even dare a glance into his, the show would be over.
But it wasn't that she hated him. It wasn't that at all. Ever since their confrontation, she figured that that was it. No more thinking that maybe they could be together, because he seemed so finite and sure that she drudged on, eyes low to the path that she would have to walk, a path to independence, void of her feelings for Austin.
So she switched her dance schedule. She took time off from Sonic Boom to prepare herself for the tour. She missed his album release party, not to Jimmy's favor, but if she was going to move on, she was going to go all out.
Now it was time to face him, and she was supposed to already be moved on. She had called up Dallas the night after, crying at the thought that she didn't give him a fair chance, so he had came over, opened the door to the car for her, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "No, we can try this," he whispered to her glazed eyes, as if staring into a window of her soul. But he never really saw it, and that was one of the things that hurt her the most.
So night after night, she would debate in her head to continue with the mask of hope, that she could think of him the way she thought of auburn eyes and tanned skin attached to firm arms and sharp angles, to the blonde scattered in every image when she thought of the one that broke her heart in Indianapolis, who took the best of her because that was it, it was him. It was always him.
But it killed her to think that that was what defined her, a stupid boy who kissed girls he barely knew and who looked at the world in such a shine that it was almost ignorant, like he didn't know any better. She always knew better, and he showed her that sometimes, you really can't know better.
Dallas showed her things, too. Like joy, and happiness, and security, and chivalry. He opened doors and brought flowers and kissed her sweetly goodnight, and held her hand and made sure she was always okay. She liked that, too, because she liked being okay. She liked being okay.
And with that, she rolled out of bed.
The tour bus seemed to gleam in the parking lot of the recording studio, all shiny and ebony like a night in Arizona, full of stars and a wonderment of what else could be out there besides the beauty of the unknown.
Which is what he felt right then, a bewilderment of what could possibly happen. He had no idea when he would be where; his tour manager was supposed to take care of that. All he had to do was perform and have fun, according to Jimmy, so he carelessly leaned again the bus, staring innocuously at his Instagram feed.
When he saw the other bus pull up, his heart skipped a beat. He rushed to place his phone in his pocket, knowing that she would have to be here. They would have to come face to face.
Maybe he could yell at her, spew about how much of a hypocrite she was, or how much of one he was because all he could think about was her and the fact that he screwed up and had no idea how in the hell to fix it. But no, he had yet to break things off with Elizabeth, and she would be at his show in four weeks. She had gone on and on about how hot it would be to see him perform, and she had placed her hand on his knee, and looked at him with a yearning of an explorer searching for land, for proof that they weren't alone. But Austin had placed his hand upon hers, and looked down at the steering wheel. "Not tonight," he had whispered.
And here he was now, with the attention of a painter to the details of a flower, the topography of a single petal about to blow away in the wind. He could feel his hair rustle beneath his fingertips, and realized he was twirling a piece. He never did that. He hadn't done that in a long time.
Another car pulled into the parking lot, and it was like seeing the sun for the first time, the fear of the brightness and the feeling of burning heat in his cheeks, and he instantly shuddered. But with the curiosity of wanting to know what could cause such a sincere feeling, he slowly made his way to the back of the other bus.
And there she was, like something out of a book, quiet and careful, hair flowing below her shoulders, sunglasses on as if to show the world that she just wasn't ready to see it yet. For a moment, he felt their gazes cross, but she quickly made her way over to a beaming Jimmy waiting at the door of the bus.
"Good morning, Ally!" he approached her with open arms. "You ready to take off?"
Ally's dad chimed in as he carried two large suitcases. "For all the packing she has done, I sure hope so!"
Austin could see the red approach Ally's cheeks. She was always so easily flustered. "Come on dad, it's not that much."
The older man released a chuckle. "Okay, sure sweetheart," he dropped the bags and pulled Ally in for a tight hug. Austin was always touched about how close they were, and how he wished his parents were more sentimental. "I'll be at your show here in four weeks. I'll miss you, but I know you're off to do great things." He kissed the side of her head in their embrace, and walked away with the glow of a proud father.
Ally turned her attention back to Jimmy, who was just itching with excitement. "Okay, Ally, before we take off, I want you and Austin to meet your tour manager," he had somehow known that Austin was discreetly hiding behind the back of the bus. "Austin, come, you need to meet him too," he gestured in a rushed manner for Austin to join them, who had built this moment up so much in his head that he couldn't believe this was all it amounted to.
Austin quickly glanced at Ally, who he could tell was extremely uncomfortable and was trying to ignore his existence. 'Well, two can play at this game…'
Jimmy led them to the interior of Ally's tour bus, and Austin heard her gasp at the sight before her. Tiled floors graced with chic black furniture, gold paneling gracing the borders of the walls, with two beds bunked on the side near the back. She smiled as Austin figured she had finally realized she was going on tour. He remembered that feeling all too well.
As if to solely snap him out of his reverie, Austin looked up to a dazzled guy dressed head to toe in black, shoes that reminded him of the 80s mixed with a minimalist style of an oversized tee shirt and tight black pants. His dark Dolce & Gabbana glasses added just the right amount of class.
He raked his eyes over Ally with a dull expression. "Hello, honey," he mused, turning his attention to Austin. "And hello to you gor—"
Jimmy cleared his throat. "Austin, Ally…this is your tour manager, Devon Slings."
"It's pronounced Deh-Vahn, like tampon," Devon shot back while inspecting the cuticles on his fingers. "Give me some time alone with them, darling, I must get to know who I'm running," he shooed off the record executive as if he were a passenger looking for the right terminal.
Austin nervously glanced at Ally again, who was actually looking at him this time with the same amount of fear hiding behind those eyes of hers. Austin cracked a small smile, to which Ally glanced away quickly, but with a burning face.
"Okay, you two," Devon placed one of his hands under his chin, as if he were trying to find a perfect mistake in a Da Vinci work. "I am quite the cool cat of a manager. I don't care what you do. Read books all you want, sneak rum behind my back while I secretly know, shit, invite your most messed up friends, I don't give a damn. I get paid handsomely regardless, as long as you two make it to all those stages in time," he cracked a grin of perfect teeth, "which will happen under my watch. That's why I'm the best."
The blonde boy could feel the lack of modesty radiate from the seemingly collected man. "Awesome, let's make this tour great then," Austin reached out a hand in good gesture.
Devon almost sneered at it, "Oh honey, I don't shake hands."
Ally finally finished unpacking the last of her things, placing the pajama bottoms in the drawer beside her bed. She closed it with an exasperated sigh, the yearning of investigation running through her blood. She wanted to see all of what this bus had to offer.
She casually made her way to the mini-fridge near the front of the bus, opening the door to find Pepsi and water, with a few yogurt snacks and Lunchables. Wow, did they really know her that well?
She closed the door and returned to her bed, the feeling of curiosity satisfied enough for her to lay her head against her pillow and close her eyes. Before she could even comfortably lay herself between the sheets, her thoughts wondered to where they always seemed to go…
No, this wasn't going to happen tonight. This wasn't how she was going to spend her tour. This wasn't what she would fall asleep to every night. She would have to face this. She would have to see the worst in him, to un-attract herself from the idea that they could possibly have a relationship. He already asked to be her friend, and she knew she wanted that connection at least. It was strange, to feel like she completely agreed with him, but that maybe, they both had the same secret wish as well. She knew she did, and sometimes, she really hated herself for it. But does he hate himself, too? Does he even feel the same at all? Maybe…
Luckily, she hadn't had a confrontation with him yet. After Devon so "graciously" introduced himself, he had taken Austin to the other tour bus, to describe his bathroom habits and the time he expected to have alone since they had to share the living space. Since then, Ally had been unpacking and waiting, the buses leaving that night for their first concert in two days.
Now, Ally had nothing but the company of her thoughts, with no more things to put away and no desire to discover all the other amenities the bust might have. She just wanted everything figured out. She just wanted Austin figured out, but the ironic thing was, it was all figured out.
Maybe she could accept it. Maybe she could be his friend.
