Chapter 3

The door opened, signaling the last guest before his surgery. Austin hoped, prayed that it would be Cassidy who came through those doors. Sadly, it wasn't her, but Trish.

"Austin~" She called in sing-song. "Are you ready for surgery?" Her loud voice caused the corners of his lips to curve upwards.

"Is anyone ready to be cut open, Trish?" He joked, laughing lightly, not realizing how she didn't find it funny at all. She giggled, but just to keep him happy. It's wasn't that she didn't find Austin to be funny. He was hilariously stupid to her (in a good way), but she had other things on her mind, more than usual, and it kept her thinking.

"You should be thanking me. I did you a favor. If I got caught, they probably would never help me if I need medical help."

"You did me a favor? What?"

"Well I.." She looked at her shoes before facing him again. "I visited your ...donor."

Austin's playful smile faded. His donor? The donor was still alive? His breathing stopped a bit. "And...?"

"I convinced her."

"..."

"To reveal her identity to you."

He nearly shot out of his bed. "Seriously? She'll let me see her?"

"N-not yet!" Trish shouted, waving her arms.

"Why?"

"She wants you to be done with the surgery first!"

"W-what? But...but she will be dead by then."

Trish hung her head and slumped her shoulders in defeat. "I know. She said that you wouldn't accept her heart... if you saw her."

"Why?"

"She doesn't think she's good enough for you."

Of course she does. He's Austin Moon. He's known all across America. He's loved and adored by many fans or all shapes and sizes. Why wouldn't the donor feel intimidated? She she thinks that she's ugly. Maybe she thinks tat he will reject her heart because of her physical appearance. Maybe because she thinks he will be disgusted of her. He understood. Though he wanted to meet her so bad, though he wanted to thank her face to face before ending her life, he couldn't. Although she was a mischievous girl, she knew her limits. Especially since it's a donor's final wish.

"So, do you still talk to Ally Dawson?" Trish's comment was so random that Austin's face twisted in confusion as soon as she asked it.

"Well yeah of course...Of course I do."

"She wanted to give me this." Trish held a piece of napkin he recognized from the hospital's cafeteria. He took it from his hands and read the only five words. "Be happy. Please take care." His confusion didn't stop. Why does she keep reminding him to be happy? He decided that it was best to question her after the surgery.

"Are you guys finally dating?"

"What? No!" To Trish's surprise, Austin went quickly in to defense mode. "She actually... became quite annoying."

Trish's face froze which worried Austin. Trish is Ally's best friend so he guessed that she might be defensive too. "Oh really?" Her voice was monotone, as if she was begging for him not to reply.

"She;s always bothering me, Seriously, half the time I have head aches and cine ub fir check ups, it's because of her. Not my symptoms."

"That-"

"She confessed her love to me yesterday."

That sparked her interest. "Oh really? And you said?"

He chuckled. "Of course I didn't return the feelings. I would never put up with someone like her. I swear to God that I would never fall in love with someone like that."

"You're so judgmental."

"You don't know Ally anymore," Austin assured her. "She's so childish. I mean, she's eighteen and yet she acts like a six year old. She can't mature and shut up some times. If only you know her the way I do, Trish. Only if you do."

The Latino laughed, but it didn't show any sincerity. It was bitter. "I forgot who I am, Austin. I'm her best friend and I still am. If you remembered her the way I do, Austin."

She left soon after and Austin was put to sleep. He imagined the donor, to be as perfect- no- maybe more perfect than Cassidy.

"Thanks," he said to her as they came face to face in his dream.

She smiled softly to him and nodded her head, as if to say, "No Problem." That soft smile, those eyes and face. They all seemed so familiar. He knew where the familiarity was coming from. The tugging coming from his heart, recognizing the owner. The girl standing in front of him.

As she started to walk away, he reached out his hand, wanting, wishing, that he could yell out to her and make her come back, but something made him stop and just let her leave. He knew she had to go, but the farther she walked, the lonelier he felt. As the distance between them increased, a void was growing bigger and bigger. It felt as if his heart was burning with each step she takes away from him. It hurt. It hurt so much. And once she was finally gone, the pain stopped. He felt nothing. Emptiness. And that, by far, was the worse feeling yet.