We spent a while in the coffee shop, chatting and joking and laughing. But we couldn't stay there all day, as much as I wanted to.
Because tonight was a special night. And Austin needed to rehearse.
I was planning on going back to the hotel, skipping rehearsal so I could finish, or start, the article, but that wasn't happening.
"You need to go with me, Ally," Austin pouted, when I told him my plans.
"Why?" I protested. "I'm not going to be of any help."
"No," he smiled cheekily, "but I'll miss you too much."
I could feel a blush creeping up, and I bit my lip. He's just joking, Ally, stop it.
"You won't miss me, you'll be way too busy," I answered.
I was getting up, ready to leave. Although I really wanted to go with Austin, I needed to get that article done.
And maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to take a little distance from him. I could feel myself getting more attached every moment I spent with him, and I couldn't do that. I was just setting myself up for heartbreak.
And I never let myself get hurt. I always protected myself. And he wasn't going to be the one to change that.
Austin's hand grabbed my wrist, stopping me from walking away.
"I'll never be busy enough to not miss you," he said softly.
And for a second, looking into his eyes, it didn't feel like he was joking anymore.
But I was probably just making that up.
I sighed, giving up. I knew my limit, I couldn't resist the puppy eyes.
The article would have to wait.
We met Mimi and Dez at the venue. It was a really big stadium. There were famous people everywhere, since Austin was obviously not the only person to perform on The Night Before Christmas.
There were also bodyguards everywhere.
Austin had to wait for sound check until some other girl was done.
I stood in front of the stage, my hands buried in my pockets. Austin was somewhere backstage doing stuff that was probably very important and definitely not something I could help with, so I stayed were I was, watching the girl performing.
She had a great voice. I didn't know her. And I didn't like her songs that much.
I suddenly got the urge to start writing, using her songs and making them good, but I couldn't.
And not just because I didn't have my songbook with me.
I watched her for a little longer. When Mimi came up to me, I could tell by her eyes that something was wrong.
"Ally?"
"Yeah?"
She paused. I felt my worry grow.
"Could you, maybe, talk to Austin for a little bit? He's really nervous," she said. I nodded, happy that it wasn't something really serious.
But when I walked up to Austin, I realized it might be more serious than I thought.
He was sitting on the floor with his acoustic guitar. Dez was sitting next to him and he looked just desperate. Austin was playing a familiar song, but I could tell he was playing it all wrong, messing up the chords.
And Austin knew that, as well. His jaw was clenched and his brows furrowed.
He looked ready to break this guitar, and this time, he didn't need my help with that.
"Austin?" I asked softly. Dez looked up, seeming relieved that I was here, and he practically ran away. I took his place next to Austin.
I could tell Austin was feeling completely different from just an hour ago when we were sitting in the café.
"It's not working!" he said. His voice sounded angry, but he held back. I knew that was dangerous. If people held back anger, it only came out ten times stronger when it did.
"Yes it is. You know this, Austin. You're just nervous. That's normal, it's a big show." I smiled. "Believe me, I know nervous. But you can do this." I put my hand on his arm.
"You'll be fine."
He looked up, and sighed. He put down his guitar and the anger disappeared. He just looked sad, now.
Somehow, that made me feel even worse.
"The thing is, it's not because it's a big show and it's on telly and stuff. I don't really care about that, Als. I just…" He stopped and took a deep breath.
Good god, please don't let him cry.
I never knew what to do with crying people. I hated watching people cry. I always wanted to hold them so tightly, trying to hold them together while they fell apart.
But I knew I couldn't do that with Austin.
"I cancelled my concert for this."
"Rescheduled," I interrupted. "It's different."
"Well, they're still mad at me for it. And if I mess up this performance now… I just…"
The pause again.
"I don't want to let them down."
Not knowing what came over me, I grabbed his hand.
"You will not let them down. I promise. They will be so proud of you."
"Will you?" he asked softly.
I looked up in shock, processing what he'd just said. Then I figured that he was probably just looking for reassurance.
From anybody and everybody, really.
It wasn't just from me. So I decided to answer as honestly as I could, because that was probably what he needed right now.
"Yes," I said firmly. "I will be proud of you no matter what. And so will your real fans. Forget about the rest of them, Austin. The only ones that matter are the ones that care about you, okay. Like I do," I added.
And then Austin did something I didn't expect. He pulled his hand out of mine, only to put in on my back, pulling me into a big hug.
His arms wrapped around my back. I put my head on his shoulder. Since we were still sitting, I fell over a little bit under the force, leaning on him, almost sitting in his lap really.
But he wasn't letting me go.
And I surely wasn't going to make him.
We stayed like that for what felt like minutes but was probably only seconds, when someone called his name. He let me go and got up.
It was time for his rehearsal.
I was on my own in my hotel room. Rehearsals didn't go too bad, but not really good either, so Austin was a bit down. We all felt that he needed a little space, so we just went back to the hotel.
He would have one last rehearsal tomorrow morning. Then tomorrow evening, he would perform it live. In front of millions of people watching it on television, and thousands of people in the stadium.
Hell, that made me feel nervous.
I was sitting on my bed, with my laptop in front of me. I knew I had to start the article. Finish it, even. But I couldn't think of anything good to write.
I could hardly write about Austin Moon, the guy who seemed like a jerk and then turned out to be really awesome and stole my heart.
No, that wouldn't cut it.
Also, I couldn't find my book, so I couldn't look at the list, and I couldn't be bothered to look for it either.
Also, I was still thinking about the hug. How it felt so right to be in his arms.
Like I belonged.
And so I closed my laptop. Luckily, I couldn't be fired from this job since I was never really hired in the first place. The article would have to wait.
But there was something else I could write. Because although I had nothing to say in my article, but I definitely had a lot to say.
Now I'd been writing songs for years, and I'd always been good with words. But when it came to Austin, I suddenly seemed to forget how to pronounce words and create sentences.
I looked for my songbook, but I couldn't find it. Normally, that would send me into a frenzy, but right now, I just had to get this words on paper before they escaped me.
Because I didn't know what to say to him to make him understand what I felt. But that didn't mean I didn't have any words at all.
I grabbed a piece of paper, crumpled, but I didn't care.
I could write books in my sleep, without thinking too deep.
I could speak for a hundred days,
I could explain a concept that you didn't get
And I could do it in a thousand ways.
I just wanna tell you I love you, but it´s the hardest thing to say.
I turn my head upside down, trying to find some kind of way,
to tell you I need you, in a way that will be heard.
I try to be a poet,
But ever since I met you, I haven't been good with words.
I smiled. The writing went without thinking, without doubts. I knew this was going to be a great song.
Perhaps because it was all written from a place of truth.
There's only so many different ways
There's only so many old clichés,
that I can do.
So what can I do, tell me what I can do.
I just wanna tell you I love you, but it´s the hardest thing to say.
I turn my head upside down, trying to find some kind of way,
to tell you I need you, in a way that will be heard.
I try to be a poet,
But ever since I met you, I haven't been good with words.
I stopped. This was good.
"You should keep this," I muttered to myself. But I couldn't keep it on this crumpled piece of paper.
Songbook.
I looked under the bed, on the desk, in my suitcase, everywhere. But I couldn't find it, and panic was striking.
Suddenly, I felt a cold shiver creep across my spine. I remembered now.
I left it on my pillow.
In sight.
If someone would've walked into my room, they would've had a clear view of it.
It was clicking in my head, like there was a row of domino pieces and someone had just tipped over the first one.
There were only two people that would've been in my room today. The cleaning lady, and Austin. When I went to get dressed, he had been in my room.
Alone.
And why would the cleaning lady take my book?
"No," I whispered. But in my heart, I knew.
Everything was ruined.
And I ran, hoping I might be on time.
When I got to his room, the door was slightly open. I pushed against it, revealing Austin sitting on his bed.
I wasn't on time.
And in his hands was my notebook.
I could feel the colour drain from my face.
He saw my songs.
"I can't believe you," he said. His voice was bitter, full of anger, and I cringed at the sound of it. I ran up to him, and, against better judgement, tried to explain.
"No Austin, you don't understand…"
"Oh I understand." He got up from the bed. His eyes had turned dark brown and he looked so angry.
"These aren't existing songs. I would know, because I know almost every song ever written. Meaning that you wrote them. Meaning that you write songs." He threw the book on the table.
I tried to take his arm, make him listen to me, but he pulled away with force, nearly throwing me against the wall behind me.
"And the only reason that you wouldn't tell me about them, is because I was right about you from the start. I knew it! You are just using me. What was your plan, Ally? Asking my mom to get you in contact with someone? Pretending to like me so she would help you?"
"No!" I cried out, but he didn't let me finish.
"I thought you were different! I thought you cared about me, me as a person. But you're just like the rest of them. All you see is Austin Moon, the guy that can help you get somewhere."
"I never…"
"You never gave a damn about me. And to think I liked you. Really liked you, too. I thought… I thought I knew you."
As sudden as thunder, his anger disappeared. And his face turned to the expression I'd feared most.
The only thing I wanted to save him from.
Hurt.
He sat down on the bed, his head in his hands.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered.
"Just leave."
You know how in the movies, someone says something, and this montage of flashbacks starts? That was happening to me at that moment. Those words reminded me of the very first time I saw him.
When he told me to leave, because he was angry at me.
How I wished he would be angry now. Because I knew anger would fade.
Just like it did last time.
But I'd hurt him, badly, and it wouldn't just go away. Sorry wasn't enough.
You know that thing that people say sometimes, that a heart is like a mirror? When it breaks, you can put it back together, but you can never really fix it, because you will always see the cracks.
I broke Austin's mirror.
The flashbacks continued. When I thought he was a jerk. When I found out he was okay. "Will you go to New York with me?" All the advice I'd given him. The hurt in his eyes when he talked about his dad.
How his eyes looked just as hurt, now, but only now, I was the reason.
When I found out he was actually amazing. When I realized I liked him. The night in his hotel room, feeling his heartbeat while I snoozed, his breath against my skin.
When I realized I needed him.
And here he was, right in front of me. But he had never been so far out of my reach.
I couldn't say anything else. Because it wouldn't matter.
And I couldn't cry. Because it wouldn't matter.
So I took me notebook, and I left.
Leaving him behind. Leaving everything behind.
I just wanna tell you I love you, but it's the hardest thing to say.
I sat down on my bed. Looking at the page on which the notepad was opened. It was my Austin list.
And at the bottom, he had added something else.
And when I read that, I finally burst, letting it all out. I started crying, proper crying, sobbing. I could almost feel my heart breaking.
Because I'd come so close to having it all.
Austin is:
- Appreciative of his fans.
- Childish.
- Protective of his family.
- Handsome.
- Amazing performer.
- Very talented.
- Funny.
- Loveable.
- Great cook.
- Nice.
- Great music taste.
- Cocky.
- Professional.
- Romantic.
- In love with you.
Song: Words by Darren Criss