"So why'd you call us in here?" I questioned my Latina best friend who smiled excitedly at both me and Austin.
"Well," she started, glancing at Dez for support as he grinned back at her. Still weird. "I decided that as Austin's manager and your ex-manager, I should step in again and so I did and, well," she grinned so wide I thought her face was going to split in half, "Tonight you two have an interview on the Helen Show!"
"That's awesome!" I exclaimed, smiling at Trish. But then reality dawned on me, shining brightly. "Wait, you mean as in together? We'll be interviewed together?" she nodded, "Talking about the album?" she nodded, "and other things?" she nodded for the third time.
"I don't know," Austin finally blurted. I watched her eyes drop their excitement. I instantly felt bad. "I mean, what are we supposed to say?"
"Try the truth, I heard that always works," Dez nodded supportively.
"Like, what? My partner was a backstabber and I hate him forever?" I glanced over at him and I watched his face darken.
"How about my partner is a little brat who thought too highly of herself?" his jaw set angrily.
"Guys," Trish sighed, "Come on."
"I'm not doing it," I spoke in unison with my blonde ex-friend, crossing my arms and looking away from him and I'm sure he was doing this same thing.
"Yes. You. Are." Trish's voice was tagged with demand. When I glanced at her I saw the anger in her eyes. "I got you this interview and we're not cancelling. Sooner or later you two will need to fess up to interviewers and you'll need to face their questions."
"I choose later," I mumbled.
"You're so immature!" Austin insulted. I turned to him, gawking.
"I'm immature? You're immature! You're the one who went behind my back to get a new song writer because you were feeling so insecure about our partnership despite the time I assured you that nothing was going to happen!" I spat.
"I am not immature and I'm definitely not insecure! Who was the one who couldn't even stand in front of a microphone without vomiting?!" he growled at me. There was a pillow next to the chair I was sitting on and I used it to smack him in the stomach.
"That has nothing to do with insecurity!" I lied, "I'm over it now, only immature people bring up the past!"
"Both of you, quiet!" Trish yelled. I nearly jumped out of my own skin and Austin even let out a small shriek.
"Ha, baby," I chortled.
"Dork."
"Jerk."
"Loser."
"Backstabber."
"Geek."
"Man-"
"I said enough!" Where did Trish get that bullhorn? She lowered it, her nose scrunched up in anger. "You both need to grow up and deal with life! You are both going to that interview, despite your excuses! There will be no name-calling, squabbles, fights, bickering, and most definitely no kissing!"
"Kissing?" we gawked.
Trish and Dez laughed, high fiving. "Just making sure you two were listening," she smirked. I rolled my eyes. She points at me and growls, "and no eye-rolling!" I almost rolled my eyes again but quickly fought the urge. "Are we clear?" it was silent before she shouted in a bold, domineering voice, "Are we clear?!"
"Yes, Ma'am!" Austin and I chorused.
"I'm glad we have come to a truce," she smiled. Austin and I glared. "You two were getting along great last night."
"We weren't getting along," Austin snapped.
"Yes you were," Trish argued, "You two even sat next to each other for the remainder of the evening."
"Uh, no, you got mad at me when I tried to sit on your left side," Ally pointed out.
"Same thing," Trish said, waving her hand dismissively. "Now, what have we gone over?"
Austin and I sighed, as we spoke animatedly in unison, "That we have an interview with Helen tonight. There will be no name-calling, squabbles, fights, bickering, kissing, and no eye-rolling."
"Great!" she grinned.
"Woo hoo," we chorused again, monotone.
. . . . . . .
"Does this shirt make my waist look wide?" I questioned Trish, twisting in the mirror to get a better view of my body.
"Did you seriously just ask me that?" she queried. I saw the look on her face and shrugged.
"Had to ask," I mumbled.
"You look fine. You're the thinnest friend I have, you've got nothing to worry about," she told me. I nodded. Trish fixed one of my curl's before smiling at me. "Let's go!"
Trish opened the door and practically pushed me inside the limo. I stumbled inside. These heels hurt my feet. I could already feel my toes blistering. Austin sat by the window, pouting. I rolled my eyes.
"What did I say?" Trish growled, catching me in the act. I looked at her.
"Force of habit," I murmured. Trish glared at me and let me know that she was watching me and would personally kick me in the rear-end if I didn't follow her 'Terms and Conditions'.
"Let's roll, Francis!" Trish shouted to the driver and the limo lurched into motion. I sighed, staring out the window. I was clearly unhappy. The only conversation that was echoing in the vehicle was the sound of Trish and Dez bickering about his pants; according to Trish, he embarrassed her when he wore purple pants out in public. He shook away her thoughts and declared that it was only important if he liked what he was wearing and that he would not change for her. Trish gave him a look that made him shrink back into his seat, perhaps questioning his relationship choices.
I felt something touch my hand and when I looked over I saw a piece of paper. I looked at Austin who was glancing at me. I took the paper and looked at it. He had words scrawled messily on the slip of paper.
Write a song later?
He insulted me this afternoon and we bickered back and forth, we're forced inside a limo to an interview that we want no part of because of our ever-growing hate for one another and suddenly he wants to write a song?
I must've not been thinking because I nodded at him before I heard Francis announce our arrival. I took a deep breath. I always got a nervous feeling in my gut when I went to interviews, but somehow I always managed to power through them.
There were a lot of camera flashes when we stepped out of the limo followed by a few shouts from people on the streets. Trish boldly led us inside, shooing away the pests that chased us towards the doors. I made sure to smile, wave at them and wish them a nice day before the doors closed. I thought I saw Austin smiling crookedly at me because when I looked at him again, his eyes were averted to ahead of him as he focused on walking down the narrow hallway.
Austin and I were automatically greeted by the Helen Show crew members. They sat us in separate chairs, fixing up our hair and makeup so we looked just right. Helen ran through the basics of what she wanted to talk about, once we agreed she wandered off.
I heard Austin chuckle from beside me, "Do you want me to do all the talking?" he questioned. I arched a brow and then followed his gaze towards my bouncing knee. My face flushed slightly. I forced myself to quit.
"I'll be fine," I assured him. He nodded slowly but looked hardly convinced. It wasn't long after that my knee started bouncing up and down again.
"You might want to get behind the curtain. We're going to start soon," said a man wearing his headset. Austin and I nodded and followed a woman who led us behind the curtain.
We listened to Helen babble enthusiastically to the crowd before announcing our arrivals. I liked hearing the cheer of the crowd, it made me feel more confident somehow but it still never quite shook my anxiety. But standing next to Austin was enough.
I'm going to pretend I never even mentioned that.
We shook hands with Helen, taking our seats on the couches. "Austin, Ally, hello!" she said with a toothy smile.
Austin was good at starting conversation. That was one thing I could always rely on him for; keeping conversation. He could practically have a conversation with himself if he wanted to. (And I'm sure he does!)
Helen questioned us about the album and we answered thoughtfully with details. Austin mentioned that the labels thought it would be a great mix, to which she agreed that they were right, and I'd commented that we generally enjoyed writing music together and so we didn't see a problem. I practically just lied to everyone but Austin didn't stop me because he can't deny that my response was the best one so far.
"Ally, you've come a long way," Helen managed to giggle about our last visit. I felt my cheeks turn a shade of pink as I laughed and nodded.
"Thank God for that," I replied and received laughter from the crowd plus a comforting look from Austin. I don't think he even meant for it to be comforting, but I felt like it was.
"You write amazing music, by the way," she taps my knee with her finger.
I smile gratefully at her, "Thank you."
"In fact, it's in my car right now," she winked at me and I could only manage a giggle. I was a whole lot happier when the attention was directed towards Austin once again, "and you just released your new album as well. I definitely loved the sound."
"Thanks, Helen," he grinned boyishly, "I liked the change. I didn't want it to be too drastic, so I kept it light and simple."
"Good choice, Wise Boy," she replied with a smile and he chuckled. "How do you two collaborate your music?" she questioned.
We then dived into a subject about how I generally write the lyrics and Austin writes the music, thus creating one part Ally Dawson and another part Austin Moon. We hint to her what the album is about and she seems convinced that we're writing about our relationship troubles, we deny it but I wondered if she was right and we were just in denial.
Neither Austin or I were surprised when she blurted the one question that everyone has been dying to ask since two years ago: "And where does your partnership stand now?"
Austin goes first, "I have a new partner, Craig Jonathan, he's an excellent writer." I think I got jealous for a moment.
"Ally, do you have a new partner?" asked Helen.
I shook my head with a soft smile, I said, "No. I write my music strictly by myself." Helen tells me that I was incredible and I try not to blush, but she quickly goes back in to pry for details about our failed partnership.
"We just decided that we wanted different things," Austin tried.
"My music career was blowing up and things changed," was what I tried.
She didn't take either. "It happened right during the film making of the Austin and Ally movie. Rumor has it that you two got into a bit of a scuffle? Would you mind sharing?"
I got nervous. Was he going to humiliate me and tell everyone what I'd said to him? Austin answered, "We did." He doesn't look at me, not even once. "But that wasn't the reason we ended our partnership." he lied. I felt relief settle in my gut. "Ally needed to go to L.A., and I loved Miami too much to go."
And with that response, Helen dropped the subject and decided to ask questions about how I find inspiration. I gave her little reasons, such as: Past relationships, dreams, fears, feelings, thoughts, etc.
It wasn't long after that when the interview was finally over and we went to commercial. I breathed out, relieved. Helen walked off after saying good bye and I followed Austin off the stage, greeting Dez and Trish who assured us that we did great.
. . . . . .
Look at the stars,
Look how they shine for you,
And everything you do,
Yeah, they were all yellow.
I came along,
I wrote a song for you,
And all the things you do,
And it was called "Yellow".
"Actually, I like that," Austin admitted, tapping keys on the piano as he echoed the words I'd written with his flawless vocals. I nodded and scribbled down more words.
So then I took my turn,
Oh what a thing to have done,
And it was all yellow.
Your skin,
Oh yeah your skin and bones,
Turn into
Something beautiful,
You know,
You know I love you so,
You know I love you so.
Austin nodded his head at my words, his fingers finding the right keys. It took some time before I found more words, but when I found them, I scribbled them down, too, tapping my fingers on piano keys as well.
I swam across,
I jumped across for you,
Oh what a thing to do.
'Cause you were all yellow,
I drew a line,
I drew a line for you,
Oh what a thing to do,
And it was all yellow.
Your skin,
Oh yeah your skin and bones,
Turn into
Something beautiful,
And you know,
For you I'd bleed myself dry,
For you I'd bleed myself dry.
It's true,
Look how they shine for you,
Look how they shine for you,
Look how they shine for,
Look how they shine for you,
Look how they shine for you,
Look how they shine.
Look at the stars,
Look how they shine for you,
And all the things that you do.
Austin and I ran through the song again and again before I smiled up at him and him down at me. "This album is going to be awesome," he told me.
"Yeah, It is," I agreed, nodding. I adjusted a few piano notes and scratched out words and placed it without better ones. We sang the song together, our voices synchronizing wonderfully.
"Where would the world be without us?" Austin wondered, teasingly.
I giggled, "Crashing and burning." Austin laughed. Our hands touched on the piano but neither of us seemed to notice, or maybe we did but we didn't care anymore. I didn't mind; either one was good.