three
Summary: If it was just one night of fading stars and loud music, with him—she'd do it all over again. Because alcoholic breaths and lungs filled with nicotine never did stop those close touches and almost kisses – and neither did his girlfriend. (three-parter, auslly)
Prompt: I went to a house party one Friday night and my God was it different from the world I'm so used to. None of these things happened, but the atmosphere really did inspire a lot of it.
A/N: Whilst the first chapter is inspired by the beautiful song Nightingale by Demi Lovato – idk how you'll make the connection to that, but anyway – this is inspired by Robbers and Heart Out by The 1975 which is a rave within my classmates right now. I have this one guy classmate and him and his girlfriend remind me of Matt Healy and the girl on the Robbers music video. It doesn't help that personality wise, they're the same as well. So, forgive this mess of a characterization. PS, this chapter solely exists to link the first chapter to the third. That's why it's so fast paced. The third will be more of an epilogue of some sort, but not really, and it'll be more detailed and focused on one situation and will tie in any loose ends left from this chapter. Writing style might vary this chapter, I'm sorry I'm experimenting.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything at all :)
discothéque;
He gets better, and she gets worse. Girlfriends do tend to change their boys—and Piper clearly had that effect on Austin. He's no longer just some delinquent that roams the school halls, looking for something—someone—to have a good time with. He's sweet – Ally bitterly admits – and holds Piper's hand, and kisses her chastely, and does his schoolwork. And no matter how much Ally wants to be the one to change the way he saw things—she can't be.
So she willingly forgives him – influenced by the ghost of his old self. And she never knew what was good about the party life, until she's had a taste of it—of course. Then she finds herself, somehow no better than those girls she so feared to be one of these days. But she's not at all into the scene of drinking and smoking – rather the comfort it offers her. Because she thinks she's over the guy and the taste of his lips, but no matter that—everything in her still craves more of him.
He's in the bliss of falling in love, and she is too—with the marijuana between her fingers and random boys with a smoker's breath. She spends half of senior year sneaking out her bedroom window and riding shotgun on Chevy trucks. She likes to think she's made for the night life with the wind messing up her hair and the city lights blinding her – but she's not. Piles of homework come and go, all left undone, and any spare moment she has outside of this newfound lifestyle is spent sleeping away the truth of Austin's relationship.
So when she wakes up one day regretting the night before, she sort of wants to cry. Except, she doesn't think she can because all the weed in the world has left her heart spoiled and rotten. So she gets dressed, pain between her legs and eyes burning red. She's never wanted to have amnesia before – but right now seems so much like a good idea.
"Sweetie, stay. Don't you want a replay?"
"No."
She's used to the short shorts and loose crop tops, so she doesn't care enough if the pale of her legs shine with bruises from the night before. She leaves the stranger's house with the only thing she hears are songs loud on her playlist and my God does she wish to just be that girl all indie bands would love to write about.
When she gets to town she's all about her tarnished mascara and cheeks caked in foundation. Her body is perfectly silicon thin so the boys that pass her by don't care about the messy hair and the unruly clothes—as long as she's willing to give them everything they want, who the fuck cares about everything else.
"Ally Dawson?"
When he says her name, it's something brand new and exotic. It's been months since they've actually talked because he's too busy being the prince for that damn beautiful Piper, that all other things just—kind of fades.
"Hey, Austin Moon."
Her smile is so sloppy, and he knows about her current reputation. He knows that one night out absolutely destroyed her but he doesn't think it's anything to do with that silent kiss on that goddamn bed she can't fucking forget about because he's as oblivious to her heart as she is to his.
"Want me to take you home?"
"No."
"Do you want something to eat."
"Yes."
"Let's go."
When he grabs her wrist and leads her away, she doesn't even dare to think about how acidic his touch on her has become. He's being nice—gentleman as always, opening the door and letting her in first, and pushing in her chair—which is nothing unusual for Austin Moon. He feels the bones through her skin and it makes him shiver, because Ally was always a slim girl but she was never this bony before.
"Do you want the McNuggets?"
"Okay."
She doesn't really know what she wants. But if it's free food offered by this guy, then she'd take it anyway. Because she's so goddamn in love with him by now—she'd probably drink a gallon of mercury if he just offered it to her.
"How are you?"
"I'm fine."
"That's—"
"And you and Piper?"
"Oh, we're good. She's great."
She doesn't miss that small twinkle in his eyes and the softness that's there. She wants to kick him under the table and just runaway but, she can't. She'd be naked before she lets her feelings ever be exposed.
"That's good."
"I got my driving license."
"Congratulations."
"Do you need a ride home?"
"No, I'll walk."
"You don't have to."
"You don't have to."
"Just so I can be sure that—"
"Fuck off, Austin. What the fuck do you care anyway?"
"I don't know—maybe the fact that this isn't Ally Dawson."
"And how the fuck would you even know?"
"Because I do."
"How?"
"Because I just do."
She'd never know that he spent all of the last year watching over her – and all the little things that got him so captivated. And he'd never know, that had he just been half brave enough, he could've saved her from the trainwreck she's made of herself and this dirt on her face.
So they eat in silence. And maybe it's crazy, but he thinks his feelings never did find closure, after all. Because here she sits right in front of him, an incredible mistake with streaky make-up and a fractured heart, and she still looks so goddamn beautiful. And he thinks, everything she does just makes him fall half in love with her all over again.
"Piper's great."
"She is."
"She's so nice."
"I know."
"She's the kind of girl The 1975 would sing about."
He's not really sure about that. But he doesn't comment. Because he can't seem to hear the insecurity straining her voice, nor does he see the hollow spark of green in Ally's eyes.
"Do you want to go out?"
He says so suddenly, and her face almost lights up. It's nine am in the morning and she's not sure if any clubs or bars will be open but, there's a serious contort on his face—and she gives in. Because she's said it before, she'll say it again, she'd do anything for him, if only he asks her to.
"Okay."
It would seem that Austin had a lot more in mind than just going out. He takes her to New York, and by the time they've packed and passed by all their pit stops, they're trailing across the glorious movie city with it's beautiful Christmas lights and cemented sidewalks and glassy skyscrapers. They have time to spare before all the clubs open up and they spend the day walking along the congested streets and hiding under fire escapes and dark alleyways. They share a roll and Austin breathes in as if it's his first time ever – and it may as well be.
When the dark falls, and the night comes alive, they go into bars and drink as much as their wallets could take. The music is so loud they forget the lyrics exist because all that surrounds them is the electricity of the bass and the tech of the keyboard. Ally sees, in her somewhat distorted perception of the world, that this life of a discotheque is beautiful in it's fading lights and monochrome beats—but never in the morals that live within those who enjoyed it. And she wants to stop. Because she never stopped caring about her grades and obligations.
"Austin." Her voice hoarse and rough, fighting against the amplified beat people are dancing to, she tugs at the blonde and pulls him aside. "Let's go home."
And he likes that she finally sees reason. So he agrees. With their fuel tank close to empty and their clothes scented with spilled wine and social smoke, they drive away from the beauty that is New York City.
"I think I've had enough."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"I think so too."
When they get home, she's grounded for life. But it doesn't even matter. Because she's ready to throw away the short dresses and tattered shorts, and get back to her high-waisted skirts and pastel cardigans that flourished with the innocence she once had. She doesn't skip classes anymore, and her teachers trust her again. It takes a while before she stops smoking and she figures—not everything's that easy, anyway.
And on the month of February, she's back to good ol' Ally Dawson. And Austin and Piper breaks up.
"So the social this year is on Valentine's day. And if you want to drink alcohol, you're required to bring your own as a contribution."
"You don't want to be that one guy who comes crashing into the party and taking everyone else's drinks without bringing your own, you know."
"Trish, you did that last year."
"Well, I've learned since then."
Ally laughs at the light hearted banter between her friends, closing her locker, as she props her shoulder bag properly.
"Sorry guys, I don't think I'll be going."
"Aw, come on Ally! We never get to have school socials—this may be the first and last we'll ever have."
"Yeah, Ethan had to pull major strings just to get the principal to allow us to have one!"
"Thank God Kira got her dad to finally oblige."
"I just, I'm not really into that whole scene anymore."
"You don't even have to drink—just go. Please?"
"Yeah Ally, please?"
"Okay."
So she goes. Conservative red dress, hair slightly curled and just little specs of make-up on her face, she goes. She brings her own small bottle of water, the only contribution she could ever make – because she's finally sober and the struggle to get to where she is right now was something she'd never want to experience ever again.
Dez and Trish take the dance floor, strong tequila in the dance moves they make. And everyone enjoys a good time. Some sinners are smoking in the toilets and Ally remembers the time she used to be one of them. And despite claiming the corner as her spot for the night, she still feels happy.
"Ally Dawson, not drinking? What a surprise."
His playful voice is distinct to her from a mile away. And she laughs that innocent laugh she once had and nearly, completely, lost.
"Austin Moon, not dancing with Piper, what a shock."
"Hey, rumors are true, I'm a single man now."
"Does this mean you'll go back to your old ways where your best friend is Vodka and you fly off from female to female."
"Maybe. Then things can be back to normal again."
"As if that's ever possible now."
"It could be."
Robbers by The 1975, and Austin thinks it's the perfect slow song. So gently, he takes Ally's hand into his, and leads her away to the middle of the dance floor. And they dance, hand on her shoulder, head on his chest.
"I don't think you're real."
"Yeah? I don't think you're real either."
She laughs, and further buries her head onto him. And it's somewhat like a mutual understanding. The need to confess was never there because despite the mellow steps they make as they dance on that same spot, the urgency on the way they held onto each other does not disappear.
"You're pretty great."
"Yeah?"
"If my career as a singer ever skyrockets, I'll remember you."
"No, really."
"I'll make a band up, sing indie songs about you, and these eyes, and these lips, this past year and that night in New York."
"That sounds great."
"Hadn't than been a dream of yours?"
"I guess it has."
They don't make that cliché move of a kiss in the moment. Nor do they acknowledge a relationship with each other. But with his hand on her waist and nose buried on down her neck, he breathes in everything she is, and bites the flesh beneath her creamy skin. And for the first time, Ally thinks—goddamn, the alcohol really does ruin you after all.
A/N: I have nothing to say. I hope you enjoyed it? Hahaha, please drop a review you if you liked it And if you don't, criticism is okay too—no flames, let's play nice now and be polite. PS, the idea behind Ally's dream of being one of those girls indie bands sing about is how a lot of the things people find immoral has been romanticized by the media – specially with a band as scandalous as The 1975. Matt Healy has no filter in his mouth and God that's admirable. But the point I'm trying to get across is Ally feels the need to belong to this weird bourgeois (god, I love that word, if you haven't yet noticed it) lifestyle in order for guys to like her – specially Austin Moon. So just like the songs Robbers and Heart Out, Ally wants to be the girl focused and written about by bands like these. Okay, I have no way of explaining this but, that's the best I can put it to words. I hope no one takes any offense in what I have written – personally, I'm not trying to offend anyone because your value as a person is not determined by these immoral perceptions of the world. However, it is written in Ally's point of view and to Ally, she's not cut out for this lifestyle after all because how she sees it is different from how those who live in it sees it. You feel me?