Although the door didn't squeak, Austin sensed Ally's entrance.
She found him sitting on a couch, guitar in his lap. He'd showered by now.
She fiddled with the ring on her index finger, gnawing on her bottom lip. She wasn't sure how to address this situation, or even if Austin wanted to address the situation.
There were a few beats of a pure-at-heart silence.
"He wants to see you." she informed him, quiet and gentle.
Austin nodded his head, arching his eye brows with false interest. He twisted a tuning peg of his guitar, his thumb roaming down the six strings. He hadn't looked at her.
When he didn't reply, she continued, "What are you going to do?"
"Well, what would you do?" he questioned back, finally glancing over at her. There was no emotion in his eyes and it made her feel stiff and uncomfortable.
"I don't know." she replied.
Even the smallest thought of Ally's mother attempting any contact with her ever again made Ally's lip feel like curling out in disgust.
She forced any of her own thoughts to the back of her mind and focused on the blonde boy who wasn't paying her any attention. Instead, he seemed to have something going on with his guitar. He played a quiet melody.
Ally focused on his hand that seemed to go white in the knuckles. He'd stopped playing, his fist curled tightly. A muscle in his jaw jumped. "What was he like?"
Ally frowned slightly in confusion. "Sorry?"
He looked at her, eyes flat and cold. Angry. "My Dad. What was he like?" he repeated, his words thicker and slipped through gritted teeth.
Ally stood there for a moment. She looked at him and winced, "I think he was drinking."
She knew he didn't want to hear that, but she wasn't going to lie to him.
Austin's lip curled out bitterly as he let out a humorless snort. "Right." His tone was hard. He looked away from her and focused back on his guitar. "Call him back and tell him to go screw himself."
Her eyes got round. "Austin..."
"You heard me." Austin replied.
Ally shook her head. "Austin, I don't think...I mean...Maybe you should just-"
"Ally." Austin barked, his tone sounding like a fresh warning.
Ally stayed silent.
He watched her for a moment before repeating, "Call him back and tell the bastard I don't want to see him."
Ally swallowed and nodded her head. "Right away." she obeyed.
Feeling something burning in his chest and then a small leap, Austin suddenly said, "Not yet."
Ally looked at him, confused. Her lips formed a cute little 'O' shape.
He shook his head at her and pointed to a couch. "Sit."
Ally hesitated before doing as she was told. She carefully walked to the couch he'd directed her to sit at. She sunk into the furniture and it felt good to finally stop running around. She knew it wouldn't last long though, she was sure Cassidy or Trish would be calling her any minute to run an errand. She was kind of hoping they would. She almost couldn't stand the tension in the room.
Austin went back to his guitar, strumming melodies and, whether they were in tune or not, Ally listened.
It was a couple more minutes before Austin turned to look at her, "Stop watching me like a hawk."
She flushed slightly. "Sorry." She waited a moment before asking, "Are you okay?"
He looked away from his guitar to look at her. A smirk fell on his lip. "You coming to save the day? Coming to save me?" he asked. She almost huffed with disappointment from his attitude.
Ally rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Trish is your best friend and that was a pretty big fight."
"It wasn't a fight." Austin shook his head. "We were resolving...issues."
"Are you guys good?" Ally questioned, silently hoping that they had made things right again.
"I don't know. I don't care." Austin said, cringing slightly. Ally shook her head. She knew he cared, but she also knew he wouldn't dare say it out loud.
"Trish seemed upset." Ally voiced, "I saw her a little before I came here. You two should...well, work it out. You're best friends, after all."
Austin shook his head. "Can you be quiet for just a moment?" Austin hissed, tired of the non-stop jabber coming from his assistant. She was a hen party, constantly speaking her mind and mothering him.
Ally sighed, restraining the urge to roll her eyes at him. She let her head rest on the back of the couch. She stared at the ceiling. "You know, if you just acknowledged your problems you'd have, well, less problems."
"So, you're my therapist now, too?" Austin retorted.
Ally gave him a sour look. "Seems like it, doesn't it?"
He ignored her reply. "I thought I told you to be quiet."
"If you wanted quiet, you would have let me leave." she replied.
"Just because you want quiet, doesn't mean you want to be alone." he mumbled, strumming gently on his guitar again.
Ally shook her head. She stood up. "You need to be in the car in thirty minutes. We need to get to the hotel."
"I asked you to stay." Austin frowned as he watched her head to the door.
Ally kept walking. "Yeah, you did."
Something leapt in his chest as she got nearer to the door. He grumbled under his breath, swallowing his pride. "Goddammit, Ally, just stay!" he snapped, watching her steps become slower until she finally stopped. "I...I want to talk." He let out a sigh.
Ally slowly turned on her heels to face him. She arched a brow. "About what?" she pressed. Austin stared at her, not responding. "Fine, then, I'll see you in thirty minutes." Ally said, turning again.
"Jesus Christ, Ally! Just sit down!" Austin growled. "I don't know what to talk about, I don't want to talk. I just...I just want you here." The frustration sounded loud in his tone.
Ally stopped reaching for the door and let her hand drop to her side. She slowly turned to look at him, a gentle expression on her face. She wanted a reason as to why he had to stay with him, and maybe that wasn't the reason she was looking for, but it was enough.
She'd never had somebody, a male other than her father, want her. She was slightly in awe.
"Dear God, Ally, don't look at me like that." he spat, rolling his eyes heavenward and looking away from her. He focused on his guitar again, "Just sit down and be quiet." He struck a note out of tune.
"Alright." she murmured, dropping onto the couch diagonal of him again.
He glanced at her again, then placed his gaze back to his guitar once more and started playing a random melody. He played for a while, the sound becoming heavier and heavier until he was holding onto the frets so tightly that he felt it piercing the skin in his finger tips.
He was so angry.
He was so angry that his father had the audacity to contact his assistant after their last encounter. He was angry that his father wanted to see him. He was angry that Ally got to hear the sound of his drunken voice. He was angry that his father was drinking in the first place. He was angry that Trish fought with him. He was angry that Ally had to listen. He was angry that Trish didn't understand. He was angry that Ally did.
"God," he snarled under his breath, tossing his guitar away from him and onto the floor. He slumped in the couch, glaring a hole into the wall. His jaw was clenched and his blood was boiling. It seemed Ally finally learned how to sit quiet.
She tapped her fingers lightly on the arm of the couch. Her eyes stared down at the floor as she thought about Austin's fight with Trish and then his father. She honestly felt bad for him.
"Where will be heading tomorrow?" asked Austin, finally breaking the comfortable silence.
"Phoenix." Ally replied. He nodded.
"I don't want to see him." Austin said, after a hesitation. Ally nodded. "I just want him to go away, or get better, or...leave me alone. I don't know. I just want him to stop."
"I know." she murmured. "I understand."
"I wish you didn't." he muttered, honestly.
It tugged on something in her chest. "I wish I didn't either."
Once again, it was silent. Nothing heard but the sound of Austin's angry breaths as his mind kept traveling back to every mistake his father has ever made. It seemed like only seconds had passed when Ally was informing him they needed to get to the car.
He'd stared out the window the entire time. Trish had kept her nose inside some business papers, occasionally passing him a glance. Ally focused on sending out some thank you tweets to Austin's die-hard fans. Cassidy looked around at everyone with an eye brow arched high. She shook her head muttering a simple what the hell happened?
Safe to say, it was a really long drive to the hotel.
x
Her fingers were light on the piano.
The empty stadium echoed the pretty sound back to her ears, having Ally feeling appeased with such a melody.
When you're alone and life is making you lonely
You can always go downtown
When you've got worries, all the noise and the hurry
Seems to help, I know, downtown
Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city
Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty
How can you lose?
The lights are much brighter there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares
So go downtown
Things will be great when you're downtown
No finer place for sure, downtown
Everything's waiting for you
Her voice sounded elegant. Something like a fork gently hitting the rim of a wine glass, but maybe prettier. More level. Simple yet perfect.
"Eyeing up my stadium, are you, Ally?"
Ally immediately jumped at the imposing voice. She found Austin walking smoothly down an aisle towards the stage. She composed her shock and settled it down enough to roll her eyes.
"Nobody was around and this spot looked lonely." Ally gave him a rueful smile.
He slowly made it to the stage, and soon enough, had his forearms leaning on the piano.
It was the prettiest piano she'd seen. All sleek and white, a Baldwin grand piano. He'd seen so many that it just didn't faze him. Ally silently argued that it should absolutely faze him. All musical instruments should faze a human being and remain sentimental. To her, music was art. Records, CD's, instruments, songs.
He stared straight ahead at her, watching as she was trapped inside her thoughts. "You make that up off the top of your head?" he wondered.
He knew she was more than capable of doing so which was why he was so surprised when she shook her head, a smile tugging on the corner of her lips.
"It's a classic, Austin." she told him. "Petula Clark."
"Never heard of her." he replied, honestly.
"You wouldn't." Ally shook her head. "It was a sixties hit." she added, informingly.
He nodded his head, shrugging with slight fascination. Ally got up to move from the piano when Austin stopped her.
"No, no. You don't have to leave." he told her. She looked at him, oddly. He shook his head. "You can...play something else."
Ally breathed out, shaking her head. "I'm not going to play something else. Your sound check starts in half hour anyways."
"You've got time." Austin said, dismissively.
"Well, now I have an audience. Takes the fun out of things." Ally said, tutting her tongue once.
Austin glanced over at the empty stadium to realize that she meant him.
He shook his head at her. "I like hearing you sing." he admitted, gently.
She looked up at him. She hadn't expected him to say that. Maybe she was waiting for a remark or a smirk, or something to ruin the moment. Ally shook her head and her shoulder lifted with a small shrug.
"I don't know what you're expecting to hear." she mumbled, her fingers frolicking for a moment as her mind searched for something to play. She suddenly felt slightly nervous.
"Something new." he said, quickly.
She looked at him and then looked back to the piano keys and began playing a gentle tune. He already liked it. Her fingers were like feathers, dusting the piano keys, hitting each note so lightly yet having the sound protrude beautifully inside his ears.
Come on skinny love just last the year,
Pour a little salt we were never here,
My my my, my my my, my-my my-my...
Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer.
Tell my love to wreck it all,
Cut out all the ropes and let me fall,
My my my, my my my, my-my my-my...
Right in the moment this order's tall.
And I told you to be patient,
And I told you to be fine,
And I told you to be balanced,
And I told you to be kind,
And in the morning I'll be with you,
But it will be a different kind,
'Cause I'll be holding all the tickets,
And you'll be owning all the fines.
Come on skinny love, what happened here?
Suckle on the hope in light brassieres,
My my my, my my my, my-my my-my...
Sullen load is full, so slow on the split.
And I told you to be patient,
And I told you to be fine,
And I told you to be balanced,
And I told you to be kind,
And now all your love is wasted,
Then who the hell was I?
'Cause now I'm breaking at the britches,
And at the end of all your lines.
Who will love you?
Who will fight?
And who will fall far behind?
Come on skinny love,
My my my, my my my, my-my my-my...
My my my, my my my, my-my my-my.
Austin watched the hairpin curve of her lips and how they wrapped around each lyric. He knew he told himself that he would never fall for the charm that she seemed to unwittingly drop everywhere she went, like a little trail behind her feet.
But now, now he just couldn't help it. She was beautiful, sitting there in front of him, her eyes lifting with a near-shy glance. She bit down on the inside of her cheek as she hesitantly moved her hands to rest them in her lap, folded.
"Well?" she pressed, an eye brow twitched upwards. She managed a casual smirk onto her pretty mouth without it wobbling. His silence made her anxious.
Realizing that she was waiting on a reply, Austin cleared his throat. "You're amazing." he said softly, voice full of reverence.
Trying to avoid the awkwardness that was attempting to hitch itself up her throat, Ally snorted. "Amazing, huh?"
He stared back at her, though he never actually replied. Shortly, he placed his palms on the piano and pushed himself away from her. One corner of his lips was upturned. "I need to warm-up for sound check." He hardly gave Ally a small wave of his finger, too cool to actual say goodbye as he left the stage, leaving her there, by herself, on the piano.
Austin shook his head. Falling for Ally would be stupid. His assistant. His songwriter. Some girl who got her dreams crushed in the industry. Trish and Cassidy's friend. Besides, wouldn't it cross some sort of work policy? He'd probably defy the policy anyways. But that wasn't the point. Actually, he didn't know what his point was.
Maybe his point was Ally. That she wasn't just some girl. She was, well, Ally.
And he didn't quite understand that point yet.
She was Ally, but who was Ally to him? He wouldn't say friend. Friend would be Trish or Dez, and he and Ally never exactly got along. There wasn't a bond latching them that way together. (But there was absolutely something latching them together, he knew that much.)
There needed to be an explanation lying around somewhere, and somebody was going to have to pick it up. Whether it was himself, or Ally, or maybe even Cassidy if she ever decided to put her hate for him aside and help him for once. (Not that he ever really helped her.)
He needed an explanation for why he did the things that he did and why Ally did the things she did. He needed an explanation for every night he'd spent at her apartment, drunk and babbling. He needed an explanation for why she even listened. He needed an explanation for why her doing something as simple as sitting there calmed the storm in him. He needed an explanation for the way she always seemed to know him without really knowing him. He just needed a clear and reasonable explanation for everything.
In summary, Ally was his shoelaces and he was tripping on her. But when he tried to tie it all up, his fingers fumbled and his mind went blank. He couldn't tie the shoes.
It was a good thing a stage crew member had found him and ran through a few things before sound check, otherwise, he might've got buried alive in his thoughts.