"No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony."

He remained outside with his eyes closed, slathered in Florida heat until the silence around him transitioned from peaceful to eerie. Austin stood and pulled his leather jacket back on, his gaze lingering on the wooden rubble he'd created in a rage that now seemed almost dreamlike. His phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out and looking at the screen, Austin saw a list of notifications so long he had to scroll. Each of his bandmates had called, including Tucker. And, when they received no answer, Dez and Jace sent 2 texts each. The most recent was a simple "Where are you?" from Flesh & Bone's brunette drummer. Austin sighed, mumbling his 2nd favorite cuss word under his breath before locking the phone and stuffing it back in his pocket. He'd text them the shitty news later, when he was sure they were too busy rocking out on stage to reply.

Cool air enveloped him as he reentered the funeral home. But Austin couldn't relish the feeling because there were 30+ pairs of eyes stuck to him immediately. They were all seated in metal folding chairs and facing towards his right. Up front, Mimi and Diane stood at a podium between the hushed crowd and Mike's open casket. He'd opened the exit door and let in the sunlight and, apparently, interrupted whatever the women were saying. He carefully started to back out the way he came in but-

"Oh Austin come on up here honey." His mom's expression softened considerably as she reached out to him. Fuuuck no.

He shook his head as subtly as possible, even making the "cut" motion, turning his hand at the wrist and slicing the air beneath his chin with his fingertips.

"Austin." Diane spoke a little firmer, looking that much scarier with mascara running down her cheeks.

Jaw clenched and eyes rolling, he reluctantly shuffled over to the grieving women and stood next to his mom. She gave him a tiny grateful smile, her hand resting gently on his arm. When Austin returned home the first time at 19, he'd been about the same height as Mimi. But, 4 more years apart, and suddenly he was at least 5 inches taller than her. And where she used to grasp his shoulder lovingly, now her fingers rested at a more comfortable distance on his elbow. He returned her smile weakly before facing their sympathetic guests. Being the frontman for a pretty successful band back in Virginia had given him plenty of experience playing in front of crowds and making the kind of eye contact to keep them all enthralled. But standing up there before a large handful of people who actually liked his dad so much that they were sad he was done living was something else entirely. These people weren't there to hear him sing or toss their panties at him or watch his fingers tame a guitar. No they wanted to look at him with those pity eyes and those pity smiles and tell him nice things about a guy none of them truly ever knew. And Austin could still feel the man of the hour himself, lying cold and grey and motionless behind him, somehow smiling smugly from his pine box.

"Um as I was saying. We wanted to thank you all for coming…" Mimi continued with a voice that trembled.

Austin's brown eyes scanned the clueless audience for her. But after accidentally making eye contact with like 4 different people, he gave up looking for that blushing face or that guarded gaze. She was gone and so were her parents.

"Austin would you like to say anything?" his mom, and everyone else, was suddenly looking at him expectantly.

"Uh no not really." he replied without hesitation, lacking the patience or the energy needed to pretend like he wanted to be there. His hands buried themselves in his pockets. Mrs. Moon cleared her throat.

"Thanks again everyone. The service will start at 9am at Saint Gabriel's."

Austin turned his head as a soft creaking sounded behind him. Some of the funeral home employees were gently closing his father's casket. He stared intently as they began rolling it away, probably back to the mortuary fridge. His mom sighing tore his eyes away.

"Well," she rubbed her temple then smoothed her blond curls, "Let's start taking those to the car and maybe we'll be done by sundown."

One of her red acrylic nail pointed towards the back of the wake room. Behind all of the people collecting their things and vacating the space, Austin spotted a rectangular table covered in various foil covered dishes.

"Fan-fucking-tastic."

"Language!"

It took the 4 of them, him, Mimi, Diane, and Mr. Cooper, a total of 6 trips to get every sympathy casserole, pity pie, and condolence cobbler loaded in his mom's Nissan Rogue. His Aunt followed them back to the house and, after helping unpack their meals and cram them in the refrigerator, sat down with Mimi to discuss tomorrow's ceremony. But judging by the way Diane's eyes began to glisten as the last glass dish was shelved, Austin figured there'd be more teary-eyed consoling than actual event planning. Wanting absolutely no part in that shit, he cut himself a gigantic slice of blueberry pie and high-tailed it down the hall.

His room was stuck in time, frozen somewhere in 2008 and dripping with his own immaturity. As a 16 year old he liked 3 things: pancakes, girls, and music. Though that hadn't changed in the past 7 years, he was no longer inclined to tape pictures of bikini models or his favorite musicians all over the walls. Most of the women he'd spent his late nights staring up at and slowly, experimentally stroking himself to, were probably soccer moms by now, their perfect bodies misshapen by time and life. As Austin plopped down in his desk chair, he couldn't help but roll his eyes at an old Kanye West poster near his closet door, still disappointed that one of his former favorites had, in his opinion, gone downhill musically in the past few years.

"808's and Heartbreaks." He mumbled disapprovingly, shaking his head and turning on his Mac laptop at the same time. He immediately went to the One Hundred Amps website and started clicking around. There were already a ton of photos posted of wannabe Coachella girls in feather headdresses and fringe everything. And even more prominent were the band pictures of sweaty, open-mouthed musicians mid-song, rocking the crowd's collective faces off. Austin shoveled a forkful of blueberry pie in his mouth and typed "Flesh & Bone" in the search bar. Their first show of the entire festival wouldn't be happening for another 10 or so minutes but still there was a significant amount of material available. In addition to a short little band bio, there were candid pics of his friends at the festival, uploaded directly from their respective Instagrams. They looked happy as hell and Austin couldn't help but laugh around his fork and accidentally spew pie crumbs all over his keyboard. Of course they were acting like idiots out of their minds with excitement. One Hundred Amps was like a congregation of likeminded individuals, a place for both the struggling artist and the established performer to meet and associate on a musical level. The 4 of them thrived in that kind of environment, surrounded by expertly played instruments and throbbing melodies, lyrical geniuses putting the perfect word to the perfect note, screaming and drinking and head banging all completely unabashed. It was rock and fucking roll.

And he was missing it.

Austin choked down another big chunk of pie and grabbed his phone. It was 3:05 and the guys would be playing the very first notes of their very first performance there. He took a breath, savoring the sweetness of the blueberries, before typing quickly.

Funeral's not til tomorrow. Staying til then

And then, as he stared at the green message sitting dormant in their group text, he hastily sent another…

Sorry

…as if that would soften the blow. God he felt like a teenage girl, all nervous about texts and eating her sadness away. Still, Austin looked at the Instagram photos and found himself gobbling down another forkful of dough and sugar. Tucker, that scrawny bastard, would be standing in his spot, singing his part. He kept on eating and kept on scrolling. And when the pie was gone but his bitter thoughts weren't, Austin blazed.

The smell was pungent and so so so sweet. He was lying on his bed, the laptop abandoned, the frustration forgotten. Another muddy green cloud left his lips and spread over the ceiling, but Austin was way past caring if the ladies in the kitchen could smell what he was up to. He hadn't even bothered to crack a window. By this time tomorrow he'd be rushing up the interstate, Roxanne carrying him to the promise land. That made him smile. Tomorrow.

"Just like fucking Annie." He chuckled to the empty room. Tomorrow he'd be in Atlanta with his friends and playing his guitar. Tomorrow, right after they bury his father. Tomorrow they'd lower that motherfucker down there into the darkness and that's where he'd stay.

"Fingers running through the dust…" Austin softly sang to himself as that familiar pain built beneath his ribcage, "Scraping at the auburn crust..."

He and Dez had written it one day in Virginia when the sky was grey and the beach was deserted and the ginger's older sister had just died 2 weeks prior. His best freckled friend was thinking about DiDi as they stared out into the cobalt blue of the ocean and strummed impromptu melodies. It was all melodramatic as shit but when Dez murmured something about the cancer 'crawling and corroding', suddenly they had the first 7 lines written plus a title: "Rust".

"Decaying slow, the year clings..." He paused to take one final drag from the joint, allowing smoke to creep up and out, "The world is full of rusty things."

A haze settled in his room and in his mind. Austin welcomed it openly. He wanted the gossamer curtain to close over him and distort the images of his father's chalky skin. He wanted the relaxing buzz of his nervous system to dissipate the ache that gnawed at his center. The blonde closed his eyes and took a deep breath and dove gingerly into unconsciousness.

When Austin woke up, the room was dark and his phone was vibrating. His eyes clawed lazily at the blackness, searching for silhouettes and light. The residual THC lining his veins made his limbs feel heavy and warm. He really didn't want to move. He even considered drifting back to sleep but his cell was buzzing like an angry wasp and he already had a good idea of who was on the other end waiting to sting. So, with as little movement as possible, he reached into his jacket pocket. It was 7:13 pm and Jace was calling.

"Yeah?" he rasped.

"Dude where the fuck are you!?" the combination skateboarder and drummer demanded. Austin could hear a tv and the hushed rumblings of his other bandmates clearly in the background and guessed he was on speaker phone.

He made a sound that was half sigh, half yawn, and fully not in the mood, "Jace-"

"Are you seriously still in Miami right now?!"

"You got the text didn't you?" He replied, already bristling at J's aggressive tone.

"Yeah we got your bullshit te-!"

"Well then you already know I'm still in fucking Miami don't you!?"

"Whoa whoa both of you take it easy." Suddenly Dez's voice interrupted and Jace was sent to cuss in the background, "Let's not get all Godzilla versus King Kong alright. Austin?"

"Yeah Dez." he sighed.

"What happened man?" his voice was more curious than anything.

"My fuc-" the blonde took a second to breathe and calm down, "My mom changed the plans around. We ended up having a wake today and now the funeral's tomorrow."

"Thaaat's not good."

"I know Dez I know." Austin sat up, raking a hand through his already disheveled hair and finally addressing everyone, "Look I'm really sorry guys. I shouldn't have come here in the first place I know I'm fucking up our chances at OHA."

"Hey can I ask you a quick question?" this time it was Gavin speaking.

He rolled his eyes, "Sure Gav what's up?"

"Um Turkey has had the shits for the past 2 hours, did you give him anything weird to eat before you left?"

"Really dude!?" "Gavin fuck your fucking cat okay?" "Shut the hell up Gav nobody gives a shit right now." The 3 anti-Turkey members of Flesh & Bone shut their clueless 4th down immediately.

"Devil cat probably needs an exorcism." Dez joked in the background, "Turkey, THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!"

"Hey Austin." Jace was back but with less venom, "If you really don't wanna be there then you could leave like right now. Ride the white horse, be here byyyyy….like 5 am or something."

Austin couldn't help but laugh a little, "As much as I'd LOVE to do that, " he began, shuddering at just the thought of such an ungodly hour, "I'm gonna stay for the funeral."

"What for?" he asked, not understanding at all, "What the hell are we supposed to do dude? Me and Dez are decent at best on vocals, Tucker sucks ass, no offense man, and Gavin can't focus because Turkey's shitting all over the place!"

Austin sighed, slowly and deliberately. And when his left hand traveled through his unruly hair again, it stopped at the crown of his head and clenched. He winced as the fistful of blonde strands tugged on his scalp. His patience was already naturally thin, and it finally snapped at the 2nd mention of Gavin's diarrheic cat.

"J gimme a fucking break okay." Flesh & Bone's lead singer and guitarist hissed, "My dad's not even in the ground yet! So cut me some goddamn slack alright?"

"When you left VA you didn't give a shit about your dad! We went out and celebrated the night you found out he died dude!" Jace reminded him, "And now you're leaving us high and dry for the guy?!"

In the background, Dez laughed at the unintentional rhyme.

"How many times do you want me to apologize huh J!? I'm sorry. I'M SORRY! But I can't miss the funeral okay. I just can't."

"Why the hell not!?"

"Okay okay go take a deep breath or something." The red head was suddenly back on the line and shooing Jace away. "Austin?"

"Yeah?" He ran a hand over his face. The background noise had ceased.

"I took you off speaker." He said, "So what time's the funeral?"

"9 in the morning." Austin replied, feeling shittier by the minute, "Dez I'm so sorry for this. We worked so hard to get OHA and now I'm fucking it all up."

"Hey man don't listen to Jace he's wasted and he's being dramatic. We don't completely suck without you. We'll get by until you get here alright."

Austin groaned, "Please don't let anybody mistake Tuck for me okay. I've gotta reputation to protect."

Dez chuckled, "No problem."

There was a silent pause and Austin sighed for the millionth time.

"I can't miss the funeral man. I don't know why I just can't."

"I know."

Another quiet moment then Dez continued.

"All the shows tonight got cancelled anyway. Some kind of mass sound problem or something."

Austin perked up, "So no 10 o'clock set?"

"No 10 o'clock set."

Relief was somehow more blissful than the weed. His shoulders relaxed considerably, violently kicking out the tension he hadn't even realized was there. At least he wouldn't be missing another show.

"So when's the next one anyway?"

"Ours is tomorrow at midnight. You have plenty of time so don't rush."

Austin hated the thought. He hated that he was experiencing grief and that it might overwhelm him tomorrow. He hated that he might actually need the precious minutes and hours meant for Roxy to process loss and to process the pain of loss. He absolutely hated that he didn't have a say in the matter, and that Mike Moon seemed to be calling the shots directly from Hell. But he did appreciate that his best friend was so understanding. The red head had been to this place before, he'd been forcefully hollowed out and left with a missing piece as Didi's soul ascended.

"Thanks Dez." He said, the emptiness in his chest practically echoing.

"No problem man. I'm gonna go try and sober these assholes up."

Austin grinned, "Are you gonna tell Gav that you fed Turkey a turkey sandwich before you guys left for the airport?"

"Eventually perhaps."

"I still don't know why you did that."

"Because…cannibalism?"

"You're a fucking idiot. Bye."

"Adios!"

Austin hung up in the middle of Dez's goofy laugh. Then, grabbing his earbuds and stuffing his wallet in his back pocket, he left the room. The scent of pot was still pretty strong in the hallway and had even crept into the living room where Mimi was stretched out on the couch fast asleep. He tip toed past her, though the tv was turned up loud enough for the sounds of Jeopardy to drown out any creaks in the floorboards. He felt silly sneaking around like a teenager but, after that combative phone conversation, he had negative 3,000 fucks left to give and he'd probably end up shouting at his mom if she woke up and started asking him where he was going or what he was doing. So Austin waited until he was out of the house before even plugging in his headphones and securing them in his ears. He set iTunes on shuffle then began walking as Def Leppard played power chords against his eardrums.

Austin bypassed Roxanne completely. It was a long drive to Atlanta and he didn't want to waste any of the precious gas she still had. He really loved that car, but Roxy was kind of a hunk of junk and she could be a real greedy bitch sometimes, spending more gallons per mile than he'd like. Besides, even after sunset the weather was still comfortably warm enough for walking. He buried his hands in his jacket pockets and crossed the street. He'd taken plenty of late night walks back when he still lived in Miami, usually strolling towards the beach or the boardwalk until the fresh air and the rolling waves and the loud playlists helped him forget. But that night Austin wasn't a bruised and rebellious teenager plotting his escape with furious tears in eyes. He was an adult, broken but confident, looking to leave death and disappointment behind him for a moment. He needed something different, so he took a different route away from the boardwalk. His sneakers scraped the asphalt as he crossed the street and stared down at the spot where he'd vomited just yesterday. It'd been reduced by the heat and the birds from a chunky puddle to a flaking, crusty, ant nirvana. My insides on the outside, and they swarm what's there. Austin contemplated writing down the lines that randomly formed in his head as he stood for a moment staring at the red insects. He continued walking but not before quickly saving the short lyrics in his phone's notepad. He thought for a second then added "ant nirvana?" before stuffing his cell in his back pocket. Maybe Dez could make something out of it.

Something by Jackson Lowe started to play when he realized he was going the same way that little VW Bug had gone just yesterday. He hung a right at the 4-way intersection, stepping deeper into the neighborhood. It took him a second or two but the blonde quickly noticed that his eyes were searching for something red. Whether it was the paint of the car or the brake lights or an exit sign, subconsciously he'd tethered that bold color to her….Ally. The realization weirded him the hell out, but his feet continued forward and his pupils scanned the long residential street before him. Austin chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully, feeling like a creep as his frantic gaze ping ponged between every single flash of red visible: 3 non-Beetle cars, a tricycle abandoned in the grass, rose bushes with their petals wide, and even a disturbing amount of lawn gnomes. It wasn't until Jackson Lowe's song tapered out that he spotted this red hump off in a distant driveway. It was definitely a vehicle and far too rounded to be anything but a VW Bug.

Jimi Hendrix began singing to some foxy lady as Austin's continuous stride carried him down the sidewalk and past the other less significant reds. The sky was already black but the street lights cast an orangeish glow across the neighborhood that somehow emphasized its emptiness. Most of the houses had at least 2 windows glowing bright behind the blinds, its residents awake inside and doing something. Probably eating dinner. Austin hadn't eaten since the blueberry pie, and that weed session had only piqued his appetite. Suddenly all those homemade pity casseroles didn't seem so unappealing. He wondered if Ally and her family had contributed to the Moons' overstuffed refrigerator. The image of her small hands spreading broccoli-cheese surprise into a dark, non-stick pan flickered on in his mind. Her minty green nails wiggled around as she sprinkled crushed Ritz crackers over the top. His stomach growled viciously. He felt like a fucking weirdo.

The Beetle was drawing closer and his pace slowed. He hadn't noticed before that the little car's hubcaps were sporting a red band all the way around, giving the whole vehicle an old-fashioned feel. It was fitting. He stopped and stood there next to Ally's punch buggy, letting his eyes slide up to observe the house. There were at least 2 stories and possibly an attic if the little round window just below the roof was any indication. Their home was all brick façade and navy blue shutters and beautifully flowered landscape that put his little shoebox down the street to shame. All of the windows were dark and he wondered if the whole family really went to sleep that early.

And then suddenly, as Queen harmonized perfectly in his ears, Austin was struck with a random thought so obvious he could hardly believe it hadn't occurred to him much earlier. Maybe it was his father's death that was affecting Ally so deeply. The idea kind of sickened him but it was still entirely plausible. Shit maybe that was why she was bawling her little eyes out yesterday. Mike Moon, the 'very nice man' who'd given her family a discount on their mattresses, had dropped dead out of the blue and perhaps that broke her heart. It was bullshit, but plausible bullshit none the less.

A set of harsh white headlights slammed through his bitter thoughts like a sledgehammer. And of fucking course there was a car pulling into the driveway. His legs tensed, almost breaking into a guilt-ridden sprint, but he stifled the urge. They'd already seen him after all. Nothing left to do but play it cool. The silver Honda Accord came to a halt right behind Ally's red Beetle. The headlights clicked off as the driver killed the engine. For a moment it was dark and quiet and still and Austin seriously contemplated making a run for it again.

"Austin Moon?" Ally's mom was out of the driver's seat and frowning curiously at him over the top of the car.

He removed one of his earbuds and gave one of the most awkward little waves of his life. "Heeeyyy."

"Is everything okay? Do you need something?" she sounded concerned but her brow was still confused. At the same time, Ally's dad and Ally were both emerging from the Honda, him out of the passenger seat, her out of the backseat directly behind him, and both of them staring. Austin tried to concentrate past Twisted Sister's screaming in his left ear and come up with something believable.

"Uh yeah everything's cool I was um just coming by to see if Ally wanted to go on a walk with me."

"Oh." The mom replied hesitantly, looking to her daughter.

The dad remained silent as he also turned towards his little girl, but his expression seemed much less cautious than his wife's. Austin followed suit, gazing at Ally and hoping she'd just go with it. She stared back at him, lips parted in astonishment. It was way past sunset but he could still see a faint pink blossoming in her cheeks like Peonies. He smiled and the pink darkened.

"H-how did you…I mean…" Ally shot a glance at her parents then faced him again, attempting to pull herself together.

"My mom told me you guys' address." He lied quickly, answering the question undoubtedly at the tip of her tongue, "And she said to say thanks for the…dish that you guys brought to the wake today." Austin added smoothly, touching the tips of his pointer and thumb together and giving her parents the 'A-okay' sign, "We just had it for dinner. Very tasty."

Here the dad did fix him with a perplexed look, "You ate Boston Crème Pie for dinner?"

Austin paused, "…Yeeeesss…? SO ANYWAY," he addressed the pretty brunette before her father could respond, "Ally how about that walk?"

"I don't think so I've kind of had a long day and-"

"Oh shit what happened?" Austin pointed, just now noticing the white gauze wrapped around the palm of her right hand. In his periphery he saw her parents stiffen at his language but, really, weren't they all goddamn adults? Jesus Christ.

"Nothing." She hid the bandaged hand behind her back. But he was getting used to her dodging his questions and recovered smoothly.

"Okay well let's go."

"Sorry Austin I can't I have some work that needs to be done and," here she chuckled awkwardly, "it's not gonna do itself you know."

"Allyson." The mom gave her a look, "Austin has had a very difficult day today."

"Yeah that's right!" he hurriedly agreed, pointing an appreciative finger at Mrs. What's-her-name, "Today really sucked for me because my dad's dead and uh I'm all fragile and shit- I mean and stuff." The blonde corrected himself, not wanting to lose this tentative alliance they had going.

"Well," Ally gave him a smile that was almost too cheery, "I'm sorry you're all "fragile and shit"" she made air quotes with just her left hand, ignoring her parents' horrified chastisement, "But I'm busy. Sorry."

Staring directly at him, the wide grin gone and with sarcasm practically falling from the sky, she didn't look very sorry at all.

Austin smirked, eyes tracing her lips then her eyes because he could definitely appreciate his sugar with a pinch of spice. Who was this girl that he'd thought so wholesome but was secretly sort of venomous?

"Ally I don't know what's gotten into you-!" her mom began.

"You know what fine!" she threw her hands in the air, one perfect and one injured, "I'll go on a walk alone, at night with this strange guy that we JUST met for the first time today! Why the hell not?!" Ally turned and started down the sidewalk in the same direction he'd been going.

Austin grinned, intrigued by this newfound fire, "You guys have a good night. Thanks again for the casserole."

"Pie!"

Austin hardly heard Ally's dad as he jogged to catch up with the surprisingly feisty brunette.

"Hey so who pissed in your cornflakes?" he laughed, finally reaching her. She stopped walking and faced him. There, standing directly under one of the streetlights, Austin saw that whatever flames she had, they'd been extinguished just as quickly as they were ignited.

Ally was still wearing the same short-sleeved black dress, the same ankle-hugging booties, and the same striped scarf wrapped around her neck. Her hair, though, was a little messy, the updo slightly sloppier than it'd been earlier, as if she'd undone it then threw it back up in a hurry. And what little makeup she applied for the wake had been washed away, leaving her even softer and somehow just as lovely.

She sighed, her doe eyes full of their inherent sadness, "Austin I'm really sorry for," she gestured in her house's general direction, "whatever that was back there. It was rude and I'm really sorry."

Gone was the sassy side, and here stood that sweet but guarded 20 year old he discovered frozen at a stop sign. And Austin found that he didn't mind that she kept her brashness hidden because just knowing it was there was enough for him.

"Don't sweat it Allyson." He teased, "You didn't hurt my feelings too bad."

She rolled her eyes and kept walking, but not without a gentle smile.

"So," he removed his other earbud just as Janis Joplin reached a raspy crescendo and draped the cord around his neck, "what happened to your hand?"

"Nothing…..did you really come here just to go on a walk with me?"

He shrugged, "I'm all fragile and shit."

And her giggle was like music through his headphones. He listened to it with a smile, replaying the melodic lilts after they'd already flown up to the stars.

"Where're you from?" she asked him.

"I live in Virginia Beach. You remember that shitty 4-bedroom apartment with the crap AC and the evil cat I was telling you about?"

"Turkey right?"

"Yeah. I live there with my bandmates."

"You're in a band?"

"Yup." Austin waited for the inevitable follow-up questions.

"What do you play?"

They rounded the corner, following the sidewalk.

"Guitar. Lead vocals."

Her eyebrows rose, "You sing too?"

"Impressed yet?" he smirked.

But Ally seemed anything but, "You do remember that I went to MUNY right? Everybody there sings and plays guitar."

"Does that include you too?"

"What kind of guitar do you have?"

"I have 2. A Fender Tele for when I'm feeling like Springsteen, and a Gibson SG for my inner Frank Zappa. The guys got me the Tele for my birthday a couple of years ago and the Gibson I've had forever. I bought it at a garage sale when I was 13 for like 85 bucks can you believe that? Fucking morons."

"You saw this amazing guitar at a garage sale and just happened to have 85 dollars on hand? At 13?"

"I started working in the mattress store when I was 11 and started saving every penny I got from it after I turned 12."

"Saving up for a guitar?" Ally teased.

"Saving up to run away."

He looked at her as she looked at him.

"Why?"

"Because," Austin paused, running a hand through his floppy blonde hair, "I was miserable."

He expected her to pry, to keep asking until he spilled the beans about his childhood's dark spots. But when he looked at her she was staring at the ground, watching her own boots press the sidewalk.

"So what's the name of your band?"

"Flesh and Bone." He didn't miss a beat, quickly mastering her abrupt subject changes.

Ally nodded, "I like it. I'm assuming you guys are a rock band?"

"See that's why you should never assume things. You make an ass out of yourself."

"I don't think that's how the saying goes."

"We play good ol' down home country YEE-HAW!" Austin tossed his head back and released his fake southern accent into the Miami night.

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a knowing smile, "Seriously?"

"We're a rock band."

"Are you guys any good?"

"Meh." He shrugged, "We're a big deal in Virginia but pretty much nobodies nationally. We did get invited to OHA in Atlanta this year though."

"One Hundred Amps!? Your band is playing there!? That's amazing! But isn't it going on like right now?"

And he found himself grinning because 1, he'd never seen her excited before and 2, he liked a chick who could appreciate rock culture.

"Yeah it just started today. My band was supposed to play 2 shows today but the 10 o'clock was cancelled. Some kind of huge sound problem or something."

"That sucks that you have to miss some of it." And there she was staring at him wide-eyed and covering her mouth again, "I mean it sucks more that your dad di-…passed away I mean…this is more important obviously…"

He was quiet for a moment, then decided to go for it.

"Is that why you were crying yesterday?" Austin asked, looking at her, "Because Mike died?"

"No." her answer was immediate, her gaze fixed forward. Those few minutes in the Beetle where she'd been completely lost to the living world were apparently a very sensitive topic; just the slightest broaching of the subject and she shut down instantly. Austin could practically see her closing in on herself tighter and tighter, so he backed off a bit.

"Are you gonna go to the funeral tomorrow?"

She didn't answer. Her arms were folded across her chest. He had a feeling he'd fucked up and ruined any kind of progress they'd made and that she'd even take back telling him her name if she could. But, despite not being a very patient person, Austin found he could actually tolerate waiting for her because every little bit of herself that she allowed him to know was like a reward waiting on the other end of the silence. They turned the corner, making a right and continuing down the sidewalk. He listened to the slow, clipped click of her boots and the rhythmic scrape of his sneakers, creating a rough beat in their quiet neighborhood.

"My parents and I are going to the funeral yeah." She finally said.

"Can we take another walk afterwards?"

"...I d- well….maybe."

"I can work with maybe." Austin glanced at her, flashing a smile. The blush he was hoping for, a soft cherry red, dusted the bridge of her nose. He played with a loose thread in the lining of his pocket, "So does that mean you didn't go on this walk with me just to shut your parents up?"

"Honestly," Ally unfolded her arms long enough to brush a wayward section of hair out of her face, pale green fingernails looking a little brown in the orange light, "You kind of seemed like you really needed to talk to someone underneath all that," she waved the same non-bandaged hand at him vaguely, "'too cool for school' stuff you were doing. I'll admit I really did NOT want to be that someone but….I figured there had to be a reason you chose me, someone you just met, instead of a family member or something. And plus…I don't know I felt kind of bad."

"Okay first of all, don't EVER say 'too cool for school' ever again." He shook his head as she giggled, "And second,…this is a pity walk?"

She winced, looking up at him reproachfully, "Yeah sorry. But it's not as bad as I thought it'd be."

But Austin didn't mind a pity walk. Not from her anyway. He discovered in the short distance from one corner of the neighborhood to the other that there were a lot of things that didn't seem so awful coming from Ally.

He smirked, "It's cool."

And when she smiled back before lifting her eyes to the indigo sky and searching for stars, Austin realized he'd been correct in thinking her a people pleaser. Maybe earlier in the alley when he prompted her to stay and asked to sit beside her, she had really wanted to sigh in annoyance and roll her eyes and tell this strange blonde to leave her alone. But instead of doing any of that, she'd shown compassion. She'd identified something in his demeanor, something about him that was rapidly unraveling and he was trying so hard to hide, and decided to help. Maybe as he'd pressured her into remaining on the funeral home steps, Ally had wanted so badly to escape him and whatever blackening depths he was plummeting into but her goodwill wouldn't allow her to look into those subconsciously pleading eyes of his and say no. Compassion and goodwill were so NOT the sexy spice and fire he usually sought out, but Austin felt her drawing him in just the same.

They continued in silence for a long while, eventually passing Austin's house and Austin's puke and turning back onto Ally's street.

"So," he finally spoke again, "earlier you said that you 'used' to go to MUNY. What happened?"

Ally closed her eyes and sighed, mentally scolding herself for letting such a simple matter of present versus past tense slip. "How are your mom and aunt doing?" she bit her lip.

"They're not too bad. They tend to lean on each other and leave me alone."

"You don't mind?"

"Hell no." he shook his head, "I'm not good at…comforting people." Austin said the word like it was something gross, "And besides I don't need them, I have you now."

Ally eyed him warily, "I don't know if I like the sound of that."

He smirked, "Tough shit Ally-cat."

She stopped walking, freezing right in the middle of the sidewalk at Austin's words. And when he turned to her, that taunting smile of his fell completely away because, if looks could kill, he'd already be in the fiery depths of the afterlife with Adolf Hitler and Mike Moon.

"Don't ever call me that." The brunette pointed and glared with a deadly seriousness.

"Uh….oookaaay…?"

"Do you fucking hear me Austin!?"

"What the fuck Ally? Yeah I heard you." He put his hands up submissively.

"Don't call me that ever again."

She approached and, for a second, he thought she might try to hit him. But Ally just walked right past, her ombre hair moving gently in the breeze.

"I'm going home. DON'T follow me." She demanded without even looking at him. And his feet, which were just about to move down the sidewalk with her, stopped.

"Okaaaay…. Um Ally for the record you're kinda acting like a fucking lunatic!" he called to her, "Just letting you know as a friend!"
She ignored him. Austin watched her figure shrink in the distance.

Earlier at the wake, as he sat alone smoking his 2nd cigarette, he'd thought it ironic that she demanded openness from others yet completely clammed up when they did the same of her. And, for some reason, that word had lingered in his mind: irony. had defined irony as "the use of words to convey a meaning that is the opposite of its literal meaning" and "an outcome of events contrary to what was, or might have been, expected". To describe Ally as inquisitive would definitely be ironic because every prying question she asked served a dual purpose: ensuring that all the strangers around her revealed themselves while she simultaneously remained invisible. She guarded herself with her own curiosity. It was brilliant and safe and he doubted she was even fully aware she was doing it. But to call her actual tactics ironic would be incorrect because it wasn't contrary to what was expected. She'd been hurt, that much was obvious. And when you're hurt, physically or mentally or emotionally, especially emotionally, you protect yourself so it never ever happens again. That's natural. That's exactly what he'd expect.

Thanks again to those that reviewed! It's a little nerve wracking for me every time I share something that I've written so I really and truly appreciate yall for giving me some feedback, and positive feedback at that! One of the reviews reminded me to ask you guys how you feel about the length of the chapters. I'm not purposefully making them this long it just happens as I write them. Let me know what you think! Also, all lyrics/lines that Austin sings or thinks up in this chapter are my own.