No Gravity Chapter 4, an austin & ally fanfic

"Your music is amazing, Ally." He told her, smiling brightly.

She smiled back. The words that he used to say, that were lies, suddenly had a new connotation. They became partially true in her eyes.

It had been about a week since the incident at Mini's. Ever since then, they've taken to leaving the safety of the store when there were only a few people out, and even then, they would explore the back alleys. They even found an old fashioned ice cream shoppe, which luckily, held Fruity Mint Swirl. He looked a bit disgusted at the strange name and bizarre combination, but she countered with the same remark after he got a little bit of everything. However, those expeditions throughout the abandoned areas of the mall quickly finished after an unfortunate incident including a large spider which neither of them wanted to get close to.

For the most part, she would end up spending most of her time with Austin and the two were seemingly inseparable. Even when she was taking care of the store, Austin would stay by her. He would either be goofing off, playing on the instruments (especially the set of drums after he told her that he was given them by her mother), playing with the instruments (usually violin paddle ball) or helping out with a few customers after he learned the ropes by watching her doing it a few times.

He didn't seem to hang out with her out of pity like everyone else does one they see her. It was a nice break.

The two were sitting on the purple bench with the black leather back. They had attempted to move around a few pieces of furniture to make it seem more appealing, but both Austin and Ally knew that it was just a giant storage room and office. They had cleared off the couch- or 'futon' she corrected- and they draped over it, on opposite sides. They had taken to using the room often, using it for privacy and to block out everyone else around.

They would share confessions with one another, and he didn't laugh. Okay, he laughed when she showed him her dancing, but it was okay because she couldn't help but giggle when he told her that his middle name was "Monica". She enjoyed his company, and he seemed like he was genuinely enjoying his time with her. In that time, they somehow went from being on two opposite sides of the futon to having her back on a pillow, cushioning her spine from the wooden armrest. She had her knees bent over his thighs, her feet on the other side. Austin had his feet propped up on the large black case in front of the futon.

"I just feel, I dunno, guilty, I guess. My mother was working in Africa. Africa. Like, over 5,000 miles Africa. Just to watch over me. She loved Africa. She loved the forests and the nature in general. And I knew that it probably broke her heart having to part with those gorillas. She had to leave practically her whole life behind, just to watch over her daughter who couldn't get her thoughts straight or get her act together." She admitted catatonically with an exasperated sigh. She brought both hands up to her face and placed the palms of her hands over her eyes, willing them not to cry. She sniffled quietly, and her cheeks tinted as she turned away from him embarrassed.

"Hey, hey, hey." He told her gently, taking a loose grip on her tiny wrists and prying them away from her, probably red rimmed, eyes. "You're not a mess, Ally. She didn't come back because she was forced to watch over you. She came back because she loved you. You're her daughter. She may love Africa and the monkeys-"

"Gorillas." She corrected him quietly.

"Yeah, gorillas. But she loves you more than all of that. She would give you the world if she could. She loves you, Ally." He comforted her.

She sniffled a few times before nodding, and whispering a soft 'thanks'. He gently stroked her knees and drew aimless circles and patterns on her calves in attempts to calm her. She wondered how long it was since she had actually been physically close with someone else. Sometimes she would allow Austin to play with her fingers or run his fingers along the expanse of skin on her forearm. She didn't jerk her body away from his or lash out suddenly. It made her feel... different.

Before she felt like she had no control, like she was always floating off into space. She had no grasp on the earth that played her reality. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, nothing around her seemed real. It was almost like a dream, but her dream would turn into nightmares which she couldn't escape. As she struggled to come closer and grasp onto something, it always shot off into the distance, out of her reach. Her soul felt forcefully numbed. It reminded her of the hospital she was put in after the accident.

There were blindingly pristine walls that looked bleached of all blood and vomit spots, seemingly endless, and she would stare into nothing. She always sensed something lurking behind a curtain, and in the dark of the night, when she lay awake in the center of the bed, she could sometimes hear a horrific and terrifying scream as it echoed throughout the hallways. She would hear them until nurses dressed in white to match the sterile looking walls entered her room, held her thrashing body down, sticking a needle into her vein. She would feel as fatigue would spread throughout her body. The screams stopped.

She felt disassociated and detached from the outside world. She couldn't perceive her body being their without something from the outside, like a touch or a voice, to remind her that her body was actually there, other than that, she almost felt as though her body could float off and dissipate into the atmosphere. Her arms and legs would become non-existent, her bones hallow and empty. It wasn't painless, it wasn't painful. It was nothing.

Sometimes she would get so wrapped up into one thing or another, the rest of the world seemingly faded away, and she had no idea what was happening around her. Or there were moments when she couldn't differentiate fantasy and dreams from reality and truth. It was a fog that surrounded her head; her sense of time was distorted. She would blink and seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks would pass by, with no reconciliation of what had happened. Her past was a puzzle, and pieces were missing.

It didn't feel like her. She felt helpless and exposed; trapped to be on view for people to scrutinize. With Austin, she felt vulnerable on a whole different level. It wasn't about being helpless. It wasn't about feeling trapped or picked apart by others. It was about being cared for and wanting to tell the truth and trust that if she started crying, they could comfort her. She tried to fight down her tears, believing that Austin would call it the last straw and abandon her. But Austin would just hold her hand tighter, and talk to her gently, telling her she was safe.

She felt like she was floating, but in the way that made her feel like she never wanted to touch the ground. As if all weight was taken off of her shoulders, she would blissfully fly above everyone else; their presence would remain almost non-existent to her. There was a type of euphoria which she never had experienced before.

It was a different type of weightless. And she liked it.

They stayed on the futon, not speaking, but his fingers would still draw on her skin. When he slowed his actions into a stop, she looked at him. He wasn't making eye contact with her. Instead he was staring right at the old piano.

"Ya know," he started, still gazing at the piano. "Parents sometimes try to help you. But I guess it can also hurt you, too." He told her, finally adverting his gaze from the piano back to her. He removed his feet from the top of the black case and started to get up. She removed her legs, swinging them around to the front to watch as he headed towards the instrument.

He played a simple b flat scale. She knew that it should've been nothing. After learning note names, and all the basics, that was the first thing that people would be taught to play on the piano. She should know, for a while, she used to teach a small boy, who, although played horribly, was very endearing. She assumes he had a hearing problem; that would explain his playing and his tendency to bring odd items to his music lessons. Even with the simplicity of the scale, it was so full, rich and harmonic. She leaned in towards the sound.

"My dad always said music was a waste of time. He said I had a bazillion to one chance of making it." He played a few more random notes. He sighed. She slowly removed herself from the futon, and made her way towards him. She placed a timid hand on his shoulder, but he didn't acknowledge her.

"That's exactly what my dad said to me." She admitted to him. She knew that her father was only looking out for her. She knew that making it in the music biz was tough. Like, really tough. She would probably have to jump through hoops just to get a record producer to listen to her. Her father was only looking out for her best interests, not wanting her dreams to be crushed if she didn't make it. He wasn't trying to be purposefully mean, but it still hurt.

"I dunno why he would ever say that. Your music is amazing. You would definitely make it in the music biz. People should hear your music." He informed her. She shook her head, laughing a bit cynically.

"It's true." He insisted. "People would definitely want to listen to you."

She shook her head again. Austin was crazy.

Even though she knew that she would never be able to get on stage and sing, it gave her inspiration to start writing. She skipped past some of the song lyrics she had Austin look at. She opened to a clean fresh page; one that wasn't tainted with vigorous scribbles and doodles, or crossed out words, or the few expletives she wrote in the margins when she got particularly angry or upset. She cleared off the work desk in the corner, wishing for a cleaner space to work at as she stared at the page.

She didn't want to write something depressing or morbid. She was, for the most part, trying to block out that period in her life. Writing down a few lyrics, she moved towards the piano, playing with a few keys, trying to find a good tempo to fit. C sharp, C, C sharp, C, G sharp. C sharp, C, C sharp, C, G sharp. She smiled lightly, happy with the tune.

"Hey, Ally." She snapped her book shut, startled when the door opened. She looked at the door, seeing Austin in the doorframe. She turned around in the chair to see him looking around the room thoughtfully. "What'cha doing?" He asked her, approaching her spot on the piano. He sat down next to her and their sides touched. There was enough room on the bench to have a significant amount of space between them, but didn't push him away. Instead she reveled in his body heat.

"Nothing much. Just playing around on the piano a bit. I was thinking about writing a song. I hadn't written songs in a while;" Even without saying anything, there was the unspoken 'I hadn't written after the accident' but he knew better than to interrupt or make a comment. "I was looking to start again. I'm doing pretty good so far if I do say so myself. I think already have the first part down."

He nodded, grinning widely. He reached out for her book that she held in her hands. She playfully slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch my book." She told him, at the pout on his face, she continued. "I want it to be a surprise. Plus, I'm not even close to finishing."

"It's great that you're doing things you like, again." He explained. She smiled back at him, glad that he understood. He was always so happy and cheerful. His smile was contagious.

"Well, if you're busy. I should go." He said with a wide smile on his face. She looked at him confused, he just got here. But she didn't question him and let him run out of the practice room and down the stairs. She heard him yell goodbye and heard the sound of a crash. She raced out of the room to see Austin splayed out, the cymbals on the floor underneath him. He met her gaze.

"I'm okay." He assured before standing up, rearranging the cymbals again and leaving the music store. She smiled and returned to her practice room, more inspiration in her head.

A couple days after Austin tripped and fell over the instruments, she had barely seen the tall blond. On the occasions when she went outside of the store during a lunch break, she would see Austin rushing around the complex, weaving in and out of stores. The first time she saw him, he was headed out from the Copy and Print store with a stack full of papers in his arms. She called out to him, but she guesses he didn't hear her and kept on walking. After that, she saw him walking out of one of the stores with a large plastic bag, she waved high to him and he waved back, but kept on going.

She thought that maybe after she didn't let him look into her book, maybe he was angry with her. So the next time when she saw him exiting a furniture store, she confronted him. He promised her that he wasn't angry or upset, he just had a lot of errands to run and things along those lines, although she could tell he was being purposefully vague.

She was placing the finishing touches on her lyrics, happy with the results. She heard the door open, assuming it was Austin, she began greeting him.

"Hi…Dez?" She asked, seeing the jubilant teen in the doorway. She didn't even know that Dez knew about the store, let alone the upstairs practice room.

"Hey, Ally." He saluted her. He pranced over to where she sat before sliding in close on the seat. "I was told by a little golden toe that you need someone to get you out of here." The redhead told her, booping her nose. She flinched away from his touch. She was okay with physical contact, but nose booping was seriously pushing it.

"Don't you mean 'a little birdie'? She asked him with an inquisitive singularly raised eyebrow.

"No, Ally. No I don't." He told her seriously, a frown forming on his face.

"Anyways…" He started up again, his mood changing quickly. "Because you're so lonely-"

"I'm not lonely."

"-and with nothing to do-"

"I was working."

"-I decided we should go shopping-"

"I don't need anything."

"-because this-" He paused to gesture to her shirt "-is a fashion don't"

"Wait, what?" She asked incredulously. Like he was the one to talk with his bright orange graphic t-shirt over a green and purple polka dotted collared dress shirt with tie dye pants and checkered suspenders. She scoffed, rolling her eyes. She looked down at her outfit. She wore a yellow shirt that she tucked into a dark floral skirt, securing the waist with a large brown belt, a thin and sleeveless blue denim jacket, and knee high stockings and boots.

Maybe she had that vintage, 'boho-chic' look, she'll admit. She likes lace and chunky jewelry, like long necklaces with pendants. But at least her style had a name. Dez was more color and pattern blind, pairing colorful clothing with eccentric patterns to reflect his quirky, and definitely unique, personality.

"C'mon. You get to hang out with your BFF!" He said happily. Jumping up, and heading towards the door. She followed his action, but at a much slower and much more controlled pace.

"Trish?" She questioned as she side stepped a box, eventually pushing it to the side. Although she and Trish hadn't talked in a long time, part her pushing Trish away when she was scared, and part Trish having to stay committed to a job, she still had a strong bond with the Latina.

He stopped and spun on his heels to face her, and she almost ran into his chest. "No, not her." At her bemused expression, he continued. "Me! Your Best Freckled Friend!." He told her, smiling wildly while waving at his face. As much as

"What about Austin?" Ally inquired. She didn't want to hurt Dez's feelings, but he could still be a bit much with his grand mood swings and anomalous mindset.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh uh. He's playing a trumpet through another trumpet." He told her, not meeting her gaze. Her face dropped; maybe Austin was mad at her. Maybe she did something wrong? Was she too clingy? Maybe she misconstrued his body language. Did he finally realize that he didn't want to hang around with someone like her? Was he telling everyone what happened?

As her face twisted itself into a dejected frown, Ally heard Dez let out a hushed groan. "But… he's going to meet you here." He admitted,

"Well, if he's going to be here soon, we can just wait." She rationalized. If Dez was really serious about going shopping, she would probably need Austin.

"No! He's not coming!" His face rapidly contorted from a somewhat guilty look to one that was panicked and worried. He grabbed her hand, trying to pull her along, out of the practice room.

"But you just said-" She interjected, confused by his non sequitur comments, as she was brought into the upstairs hallway.

"No time for questions, we need to go!" He bent down and scooped her up, carrying her bridal style. Her knees hooked underneath one of his arms whereas the other cradled her back. She held onto his neck tightly, not completely trusting he would be able to hold her up, as she felt herself being jostled in his arms when he rushed down the stairs.

"Dez!"

Ally trudged into her room, loads of shopping bags in her hands. She didn't bother pulling back the sheets, she just released the bags from her hands and plopped down, face first, onto her bed, letting the soft mattress cushion her fall.

Dez had dragged her to almost every clothing store in the Miami Mall, and even some on the outskirts of that area. He would race around the store, grabbing different pieces of clothing from the racks and displays. He had made her try on blouses and sweaters and hoodies and tank tops and vests and jackets and dresses and rompers and skirts and dresses and jeans and shorts and heels and wedges and sneakers and shoes and necklaces and bracelets and rings and earrings and scarves and probably every other type of clothing someone would wear. He even tried to put her in a balaclava.

He would pile them all in her two arms, weighing her down tremendously, before pushing her into dressing room with the demands that she showed him everything. To say she was surprised was an understatement. She honestly expected graphic t shirts with pictures of clip art pickles or something. But despite Dez's idiosyncratic fashion sense, he actually knew how to pick out clothes for her. Ones that were actually her style. Of course, they weren't all successes; she remembers one outfit which she tried on that made her look like she just came out of a Halloween shop.

Either way, he probably managed to drag her to Timbuktu and back, and her feet were killing her. She took a deep breath and stretched her limbs, her legs still hanging off of the side. Not wanting to deal with anymore aching than necessary, she lazily adjusted her body on the bed, slipped underneath the bed sheets and fell asleep.

She awoke about two hours later, well rested from her nap. She stretched in her bed before removing herself from her soft cave of sheets and blankets. Seeing the plastic and paper bags still scattered where she left them, she began to swiftly unpacking them. She hung up the items in her closet, color coordinated, of course, and folded others, storing them into her dresser.

After she had efficiently placed each piece of clothing in its correct place and had neatly folded the empty bags, she ambled into the kitchen, famished from her shopping trip and unpacking. She grabbed yesterday's leftovers (and a pickle) from the refrigerator before sitting down at the empty kitchen table, listening to the faint sounds of the television from the other room.

When she finished, she cleaned her place, stuck her dish in the dishwasher and padded back to her room. She sat on her bed and grabbed her songbook from her bedside table, opening it and traced the outline of the pages. She looked at her newly finished song, proud at her work. To her she felt as if it stood a bit for her relationship with Austin since he had entered her life. She thought that writing it would be difficult, seeing as though she was pretty rusty, but whenever she thought of the blond, inspiration would hit, and it came to her naturally.

As if by fate, while re-reading her finished song, her phone dinged with a message from Austin.

Drop by SB I have a surprise! :)

She smiled at the text sent before responding.

Okay, I'll be there in a 20.

She got up off the bed once again, ready to head over, but a quick look at her rumpled and wrinkled clothes, she halted in her tracks. She decided to be bold and also surprise Austin with some new clothes. Ditching her regular floral skirt with a tucked in shirt and cardigan, she grabbed a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, a magenta top with a sweetheart neckline. The short sleeves and the rest of the rounded neckline was lace. She opted for a long necklace with a single small heart pendant instead of her usual layers of vintage jewelry, and placed on strappy white wedges.

She grabbed a comb that rested on the top of the vanity. Her father fixed the windows, not wanting 'money to blow out the window, but not the mirror yet. She brushed through either side of her hair before looking up. The cracks in the mirror disfigure the dark lettered words on the walls. But they've almost faded into the paint. The words that were said to her, once upon a time, the lies, the threats, the criticism, they have become almost nonexistent. Degradation and humiliation was a past life. The shadows are friendly now. They wave back whenever she does. And they stop when she does. The shadows don't control her, she controls them.

With the cracks, Ally was able to see only certain parts of her face. She saw her sweeping eyelashes that fanned over her warm chocolate brown eyes. She saw her straight white teeth that were partially covered by her pink lips. She saw the natural blush on the apples of her cheeks. She saw her slightly wavy chestnut hair as it cascaded down her shoulders.

She saws prettiness.

She saw loveliness.

She saw beauty.

Ally tucked her hair behind one of her ears, a small smile on her face and she turned away heading towards the door. She paused for a moment, and turned back around, grabbing her songbook off of her bedside table before she could think twice.

Ally walked through the empty pathways of Sonic Boom, genuinely surprised by the lack of people. She had overheard a couple of people talking about live music tonight, but she didn't ask the two for more information, too shy and not wanting be caught eavesdropping. Maybe after her surprise, she could convince Austin to go with her. Only, she now needs to know where it is and who was singing. As she saw the light up Sonic Boom sign on the buildings, she scurried along in her heels, eager to tell Austin about her surprise.

"Hey, Austin! Guess what? I finished my song…" He words faded out in her mouth and she stopped waving her book in the air, as she took in a crowd of strangers smiling at her and clapping. She looked around. There was a stage set up where the small seating area used to be, equipped with a cordless and removable microphone, and instruments skewed over it; a piano, drums, guitars, string instruments and others. She saw an abundance of posters that scattered over the counter with the words printed out in bright letters:

LIVE MUSIC! BY ALLY DAWSON

SONIC BOOM IN THE MIAMI MALL

8:30 PM!

There was live music all right. And she was it. She scanned the crowd that was still clapping, most likely expecting her to go on stage. She saw Billl from the surf shop, Pirate Frank from Pirate Franks Fish Fry, Mr. Wilson from the Aracade, and a man who she and Austin had dubbed 'Statue Guy'. The room was surrounded by unfamiliar faces. Men, women, boys, girls, teens of all shapes and sizes with red hair and black hair and dyed hair and curly hair and long hair and freckles and glasses and who knows what else. Too many faces that she didn't know and too many people crowded around her, she raced up the stairs, slamming the door shut to the practice room.

What she saw when she was finally able to come to was something that left her in awe. The practice room had completely transformed. The walls were painted with shades of light blue. The two funky red chairs which she had viewed through the store windows were on one side of the room, over a dark brown rug and paired with a red leather covered table and small black wooden table. Behind the chairs was a shaggy yellow bench seat with a giant pickle. There were little mini rugs in the shapes of circles in magenta to match her top.

The windows were now cleared of all boxes, instead they had tiny crystal beaded curtains with a 1960's jukebox polished and tucked into the corner. Right in front of her, where the old workspace lay was a white desk with removable red draws. Above it hung the large yellow 'A', surrounded by see through green and orange half circles. She saw the two mini amplifiers, one dark pink and one navy blue. She saw what looked to be a black bumper car with yellow, orange and red flames. And in the corner was an arcade machine with the words 'POWER DRIFT' printed on the front. She smiled tenderly at the game they played at the arcade.

And in the very center of the room was a black grand piano, in all its glory. Too distracted by the improved room, she didn't hear the door opening behind her and someone entering until she heard the distinct click of the door closing. She turned around, seeing a blond haired Austin Moon, looking at her.

"Uh? Surprise?" He said, sheepishly. She turned away from him, heading for the black piano bench and sat down, placing her book on the stand. She wanted to be angry with him, but was mesmerized by the beauty of the piano in front of her. The glossy ivory keys, the golden foot petals, and the name 'Ritmüller' in script surrounded by polished black paint. She saw through her peripheral vision as he sat down besides her on the bench.

"Uh, you look nice." He told her, but she gave him no answer, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that she would give in just by a simple compliment; even if it spread warmth through her body, starting at the pit of her stomach.

"So, you finished your song?" She didn't reply.

"Look, Ally. I know that I should've asked you first, but I know you're a great musician. People need to hear your music."

After a moment pause with no answer from her, he tried again. "So, how do you like the practice room?" She let out a silent sigh; she knew he would be relentless, asking her questions in attempts to spark up a conversation. She knocked once on the edge of the piano, a slight reference back to when Austin and her first met, but still didn't look at him. She didn't move until she saw him shift in his seat and grabbed an object out of his back pocket.

Assuming he was taking out his cell phone, she adverted her gaze back to the instrument in front of her. Only when the sound of crinkling paper each her ears did she fully turn her head to the object in his hands, piqued with curiosity. It was a single piece of white lined paper, folded numerous times based on the number of creases and wrinkles it had. She noticed scribbles and pencil marks on it, and she recognized both of their handwriting on it.

That was the paper they used to write notes on and slip underneath her door when they first met. She can't believe that he actually kept it this long. She watched as he grabbed a pencil and flipped the sheet over to an empty space on the back. He separated their latest message with a single line, and wrote down a word before passing to her along with the pencil.

Hey.

She smiled, before writing down:

When did you do this?

A crew and I came in about 6 hours ago

It suddenly made sense why Dez wanted to take her shopping. He was keeping her occupied so Austin and a crew of people could set up and redecorate the room. It also explained why she never saw Austin; he was busy buying all the furniture and decorations.

Where did you get the money for all this?

I sold tickets for this. They want to hear you, Ally.

She paused before writing, contemplating what to say.

I'm scared. I feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff and I'm about to fall.

Don't doubt yourself. I know you'll do great. If you ever fall, I'll catch you.

Promise?

Promise.

She looked up from his notes and was met with him looking at her. She nodded. He got up from his seat next to her, placed the cordless microphone where he sat, and headed back towards the door, opening it slightly, he called back to her.

"Whenever you're ready."

She waited a few moments, taking in deep breaths. She got up from her place, turned on the microphone and started heading towards the door.

I remember life before
Faraway dreams and locking doors
Then you came, then you came
Afraid to fall, to be free
Always my own worst enemy
Isn't what, what you see
I took time to realize
That I couldn't do it by myself, myself

There's no gravity when you're next to me
You always break my fall like a parachute
When you're holding me so weightless I can barely breathe
You always break my fall, my fall
Like a parachute
You're my parachute

With you it all begins
Feeling okay in my own skin
So alive, I'm so alive
I know this life isn't gonna be perfect
The ups and downs are gonna be worth it
As long as I'm, I'm with you

When I'm standing at the edge
It's such a long way down
And I second-guess myself
You better catch me now
Woah, woah
Woah, woah
Never touch the ground

There's no gravity when you're next to me
You always break my fall like a parachute
When you're holding me so well it's like I barely breathe
You always break my fall, my fall
Like my parachute
You're my parachute

She was bombarded by applause from the audience below her. As she stood from the top of the stairs, she looked down at the unknown faces who smiled right back at her. Some were clapping and others were cheering, but she could easily identify Austin. He was jumping up and down, cheering and waving his hands, next to Dez who had a video camera aimed at her. She waved down at them, and received bright smile in return.

As saw a head of curly brown hair as it pushed its way through the crowd. She gasped at the sight of Trish as the Latina made her way up the stairs to her.

"Ally, I'm sorry that I wasn't here when you needed me most. I'm so sorry." Trish apologized with large eyes, begging for forgiveness. Ally knew how dramatic it was for Trish to apologize, and no matter what, she could never hold Trish's absence against her.

"It's okay. I forgive you." She told her. Trish's eyes sparkled and she engulfed Ally in a large hug which she returned all as well. She felt as if she was floating. She had Trish back in her life, she could consider Dez a friend. And Austin. One of her best friends. Their relationship with each other wasn't perfect. But it was okay. They didn't need perfection. They had each other. And that was perfect.

She still doesn't know if she's ready for a relationship again, she may never be for the rest of her life. Hopefully that wasn't the case, but she knows where to start when she's ready. It may be scary. But he'll always break her fall.

He'll be her parachute.

Austin was practically deafened by the uproar of the crowd as they cheered for Ally. Her pop ballad was executed amazingly, and she captivated everyone, including him with her voice. As soon as she had finished, he started jumping up and down like crazy, clapping and cheering. He watched as she looked down, right at him and waved, and he gave her a wide grin.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, look, Austin. She waved at us!" He paused for a moments rest. "I like her." He announced with a nod of his head.

"Yeah." Austin responded, looking up to see Ally hugging a short girl with curly brown hair. He smiled at her affectionately. "I like her too."

This was actually written by my friend, "Red Compassion, Red Love, Red Hate" on the Austin & Ally Wiki... So... Go check them out. Unlike the other previous chapters, the songs were embedded into the story.

Thank you all so much for your support and reviews.

How many of you guys actually knew, or at least had a clue of where the title came from? Red took the lyrics, tried to analyze it and wrote a fanfiction about it. Hopefully, when you look back at some of the lyrics in "Parachute", you'll see some of the connections.

Although this is the last chapter, a follow-up will come shortly, so if any of you have any questions that you want to be answered, just leave them in the comments and they'll be answered!

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