OMG, I uploaded this, and it only got like a fourth of it uploaded! So here is the full version of this chapter:
Hey guys, what's up? This is Kf103Pixie with the fourth chapter for 'Inflamed By Hate.' So I hope you guys like it and tell me what you think about it. Criticism is greatly welcomed! I also take questions, comments, concerns, and happy thoughts. Anyways, on with the story!
"YOU DID WHAT?!" Ally screamed at Trish and Dez from behind the register at Sonic Boom.
Dez held up a hand, saying "I got this," and said, "Trish and I stole your demo and gave it to the same record company as Austin so you could get a deal! Uh, your welcome!" He rolled his eyes, almost as if Ally was the one that was falling behind.
"I know what you said, Dez," Ally explained, "but I just don't understand why you would do something like that when you both know that I have stage fright and that I'm happy where I am." Ally's eyebrows raised in worry as she complained.
"As a songwriter, you're happy, but not a person!" Trish said, stating the truth that Ally denied to face. "All you ever do is get pushed around by two people who are supposed to be your best friends, not your enemies." Trish then took Ally's shoulders and began to shake her. "You have to face it, they're not your friends and you're not happy where you are!"
"Trish is right," Dez declared, taking a banana out of his backpack and peeling it. "Austin and Cassidy are just using you for the fame and glory while you sit behind in the shadows crying in your sleep." Okay, Dez knew he over exaggerated a little bit, but it was close enough to the truth! Ally barely got any credit for the songs that she did anymore, and everybody was becoming sick of the new Austin that Cassi-Wassi introduced. Dez shuttered at the nickname that Austin came up with. Austin said it was cute, but Dez thought it sounded like a drunk cowboy talking through a snorkel.
"But what about my stage fright," Ally interjected. "I couldn't even read my poem in front of my English class last week!"
Trish crossed her arms and looked at her best friend. "We can work on that. And besides, it's not like you're going to be performing in front of them live. All you have to do it give them your demo―"
"―Which you stole―"
"―then tell them about how awesome Ally Dawson would be as a superstar."
Ally's father, Lester, walked up to them from upstairs and said, "My Ally being a superstar? What happened to your stage fright?" He asked, turning to his daughter.
"I still have my stage fright, Dad. And Trish and Dez are making me go to a record label this Friday at 7 to 9 P.M. so I can get away from Austin and Cassidy to become some pop star." Ally explained, fully confident that her father would take her side on this.
"Okay," Lester said, and Ally's heart rose. "I'll pick you up at nine." Then it sunk.
"Thank you, Mr. D," Trish and Dez thanked at the same time. Lester then waved at them, kissed Ally's cheek, then left.
That Night
Jimmy Starr sat in his black office chair as he looked over Ally's file one last time. "Ms. Dawson, I understand that you're the songwriter for one of my clients, Austin Moon." At Ally's nod, he continued. "I'm very sorry, but we can't accept you if you're already writing songs for Mr. Moon." He apologized, but there was no sympathy to his tone at all, his voice was very.… boring.
Ally nodded her head once more, understandingly, and asked, "Might I ask why I can't have a deal here?" She crossed her left leg over the right and set her intertwined hands in her lap, trying to look professional.
"Even though it would be convenient having the two of you in the same building, we can't risk Austin losing his songwriter if you make it." Somewhere, deep inside his mind, he was glad that he didn't give Ally the record deal. He could have, but he chose not to. Austin Moon was his favorite client, and also his daughter's, and he didn't want his only child to be sad to see that her celebrity crush went down in the drain all because of some snobby songwriter who had a worthless little dream.
"I understand, sir," Ally said, standing up, "and I guess I'll see you Sunday for Austin's recording for his new single?" Shaking his hand politely, she noticed something evil behind his eyes.
But he just gave her a crimson smile with no other emotion to be found. "Goodbye, Ms. Dawson." And that was a little too scary for Ally's liking. Then, he walked out of the room, slamming the door in the process, causing Ally to jump in shock.
Why didn't he let her go through? Was she not good enough? Was it because she looked too weak to be in the music business? No, she thought whilst shaking her head, there must be some other reason. Besides, Jimmy seemed like me liked me before this meeting. But now, he's just plain ….creepy.
Suddenly, a loud clad of thunder struck, followed by the pouring of rain. Great, this is just fantastic.
Unknown: It's hard to touch the sky when you're always going to be on the bottom. XOXO
Why …why would someone send that to her? And how did the person ever get her number in the first place? Ally willed herself not to cry. She already told herself countless times that she would never be any better than just the petty songwriter who is pushed over the cliff every single day. She gripped the heart necklace that was dangling from her neck, needing someone to comfort her when she was all alone in the cold room.
Clack!
The rip of thunder scared Ally, causing her heart to skip a beat, frightening her even more. I can't stay here any longer, she told herself.
Realizing that it was probably nine already, Ally grabbed her guitar that she brought with her just incase and turned the golden doorknob, hoping that there would be some sort of highlight to this mess. Ally maneuvered her way through the corridors and into the main lobby, keeping to herself.
She looked over at the receptionist and gave her a small smile, but the lady just stared at her with these intense eyes, like she was planning Ally's murder by the second. Ally just labeled this as her time of the month, and pushed the front doors open and stepped out into the cold night.
She scanned the parking lot for her father's white SUV, but there were no cars but a couple, and they didn't belong to her family. Ally gingerly checked her digital watch on her wrist, seeing at the time was 9:07. Maybe he was running late. Yeah, that's it! To prove her point, she pulled out her phone to check for any notifications, but there wasn't any when she hit the home button. She frowned, her father always told her everything even if it was just a slight glitch in the game.
Ally dialed her father's number into the keypad and held it to her ears.
Ring…..Ring…..Ring….."Hi, it's Lester. Sorry I can't come to my phone right now, please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."
"Hey, Dad, it's Ally. I was just wondering if you were running late or something. Anyway, just call or text me where you are, because it's practically storming outside and I don't have a jacket. Bye," then she hung up and sat down on the bench, feeling the raindrops soak into her jeans. This is going to look awkward, she thought.
Well, time for plan B. Ally pressed a few buttons on the touch screen to call her aunt, who lived just a few miles away from Starr Records.
Ring…..Ring…..Ring….."Hey, it's Cindy, sorry that I couldn't get to my phone in time! Just leave me your message, and I'll get back to 'ya!"
Ally sighed deeply and said, "Hey, Cindy, it's Ally here and I was wondering if you could pick me up at Starr Records ASAP since my dad isn't answering my calls. So...yeah, bye!" Ally ended awkwardly, shuddering at how she could be such the odd one.
Now, forty-five minutes have passed and Ally's called everyone on her contact list, but nobody's answered, not one person. Ally began to felt even more cold as she paced back and forth on the bridge that she was standing on, and even more lonely as the time passed. Sucking in the air, Ally threw her head forward and sneezed. She knew that she was going to her a cold, so she made her way to the subway station that was right under the street that she was standing on.
Ally gained odd looks from people that were holding their umbrellas as they were carefully scaling the steep staircase. She gripped the handle to her guitar case tighter as she caught a little girl, not even four years old, staring right at her. Just find someone that will be with you no matter what, Ally told herself. These were the words that she always thought whenever she was facing a fear that nearly turned her stomach inside and out.
Now that Ally thought about it, she couldn't ask someone off of the streets to be with her and drive her home, they would probably mug her even though she didn't have any money and her phone battery just died.
Can't this night get any better? I'm desperate here, just give me a bed to sleep on at least! She begged silently as she sat down on the empty bench, her leg bouncing up and down off the ground and her fingers tapping anxiously on her other knee.
A tear slid out of her eye and down her cheek, symbolizing the fear that was creeping on her. She quickly wiped it away and rubbed the drop on her pant leg. I've gotta find a way to get out of here, she decided. But how exactly will I be able to do that?
"Excuse me," said an old man, "is this seat taken?" At Ally's nod, he sat down next to her. "Are you waiting for a parent?" He asked her.
Ally nodded. "I'm waiting for anybody who could take me home. Nobody's answering my calls and my father was supposed to pick me up about an hour ago, but he forgot to tell me so." The man's look softened and he placed his hand on Ally's shoulder.
"I would give you money for a cab ride, but I don't have my wallet and my wife―whom I'm waiting for―has my phone." He explained with a sympathetic tone, then he looked down and noticed her instrument. "In the movies I've seen, the person always plays an instrument in a public place and everything turns out all right." But Ally shook her head.
"I only have my guitar with me because I was going to a meeting that my friend's set up to see if I could get a deal, but the producer turned me down."
The man cocked his head in confusion. "But why don't you play to get money for a cab?" After Ally telling him about her stage fright and why she was even trying out for a record deal, he nodded his head.
"So yeah," Ally said awkwardly, "I can't really perform unless you feel like seeing the floor covered in my lunch."
Remembering helping his wife of 52 years get over her fear of giving oral presentations, he thought that he could help the sweet, mannerly girl who he saw a lot of potential in. "If you're a songwriter, then write a song for me. Then after you're done, sing it for me."
Ally was beyond confused. She never once met a person who took so much interest in her love of music except Trish and Dez. And even they didn't come up with a plan like this to help out their best friend.
Another thirty minutes have passed now and Ally was writing ferociously on the notepad that he lent her along with a pencil that was tucked behind his ear. She kept on telling the man, who's name was Roger, that she would really sing it to him once she was finished with the original song that she was coming up with by the second.
Ally smiled brightly, looked up Roger proudly and showed him the notepad for him to see the lyrics and guitar cords. "It's done!" Ally started to bite on her fingernails nervously, she had no idea if Roger would like the song or not.
"It's a little rushed, but―" Ally started, but was interrupted by Roger waving his hand.
"Sweetheart, this song is phenomenal! It's almost like talking to the female and modern version of Michael W. Smith or Michael Bublẻ in person." He praised. Ally heart swelled with joy and she could feel her cheeks burning. She had never, ever, gotten so much praise before, except for when her mom would hear her play Mozart in the earlier years.
"Do you really think so?" Ally asked quietly. Smiling warmly, he patted her knee and said, "I know so." But then Ally figured out what was to come now. "So now I have to perform."
Roger shook his head lightly. "That's only if you decide to. Remember, this is your life, you can't let someone else run it for you."
Huh, Ally thought, this is my life. And I can do whatever the heck I want with it. So if I want to get over my stage fright and perform, then I could do something that I never thought I'd be able to do.
"I'll do it!" Ally decided, receiving the notepad back from Roger and giving him instructions to flip the page whenever she was done with those lyrics.
Roger leaned in and asked, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
Ally nodded her head firmly and said, "I've never been so sure of something in my life." Boy, she knew that she was climbing a mountain without a harness, but the risk was worth the take. She propped her aqua blue guitar on her leg and began strumming.
I'm standin' on a brige,
I'm waitin' in the dark,
I thought that you'd be here by now.
Her voice came out quiet and shaky, and Ally corrected that immediately.
There's nothin' but the rain
And footsteps on the ground
I'm listening but there's no sound.
Some people began to look at Ally as she sung, and Ally remembered why she had stage fright in the first place. She stopped strumming her guitar and hung her head in shame. "I can't do this," she whispered. "It's all just too much: the pressure and everybody's looking at me―"
"Then don't look at them. And besides, this means that you're overcoming your fear. If you can write a song in well over thirty minutes, well child, there isn't anything a girl like you can't do." And those were exactly the words that Ally needed. Soon, she began strumming the same cords again, feeling more confident in herself.
I'm standin' on a brige,
I'm waitin' in the dark,
I thought that you'd be here by now.
There's nothin' but the rain
And footsteps on the ground
I'm listening but there's no sound.
Ally closed her eyes as she sung, not wanting to see if people were looking at her or not.
Isn't anyone tryin' to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home?
It's a dim, cold night
Tryin' to figure out this life.
Won't you,
Take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
But I, I'm with you...
I'm with you, mmmm...
All of the sudden, she started hearing less commotion in the subway. Then she realized that it was because she became one with the music and there was nobody else in the area.
I'm lookin' for a place,
Searchin' for a face,
Is there anybody here I know?
'Cause nothin's goin' right
And everything's a mess
And no one like to be alone, oh
Isn't anyone tryin' to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home?
Ally's curiosity shot up when she heard clapping to the beat of the song. Her eyes opened and she saw that there was a group of people gathered around her, throwing money into her guitar case that laid in front of her. She smiled lightly and kept on singing.
It's a dim, cold night
Tryin' to figure out this life.
Won't you,
Take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
But I, I'm with you...
I'm with you
Yeah-yeah, oh
Why is everything so confusing?
Maybe I'm just out of my mind
Yeah yeah-yeah yeah-yeah
Yeah-yeah yeah-yeah yeah whoa!
The tone of the song slowed down, almost as if she was trying to soothe a crying infant.
It's a dim, cold night
Tryin' to figure out this life
Won't you,
Take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
But I, I'm with you
I'm with you
Take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
But I, I'm with you
I'm with you
Take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
But I, I'm with you
I'm with you
I'm with you
As Ally strummed the last cord of the song, she looked up to see a large group of people clapping for her. She then looked down at her guitar case to see that it was full of dollar bills and various coins. Her smiled widened as she looked up again to see that a little girl, not even three, standing in front of her with a silver, digital camera in her hands.
"Can I take a picture with you?" The small child asked shyly. Ally nodded her head and grabbed the camera, wrapped her arm around the little girl, and took the picture, unable to contain the excitement the was radiant from her aura.
"Thank you!" The little girl said and wrapped her arms around Ally and left, trotting to her mother who scooped her in her arms.
"Excuse me, Miss," a middle-aged man who's black hair was slicked back said, "My name's Josh Jackson and I'm a producer from Universal Records." Josh shook Ally's hand and took something out of his expensive pants, what seemed to be his card. "Now I heard your performance and I was wondering if you would like to come over to Los Angeles sometime. You know, if you're interested in having a deal with us." Ally's jaw dropped in shock and she felt Roger's hand squeezing her shoulder.
She stood up and nodded her head with as much zen as she could muster at the moment. "Yes, I would love to. Mr. Jackson, I'm honored." Mr. Jackson shook Ally's hand once more and smiled genuinely.
"Please, call me Josh. And will I be seeing you around?" He asked her, already knowing the answer.
"Yes," Ally responded, "same goes to you." And as soon as Josh left, she attacked Roger in a hug. "THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH!" Roger stumbled back in shock and chuckled.
"Now, Dear, this was all your doing. I was just the one who convinced you to take the risk." And Ally thanked him for that too, then sat down and began counting the amount of money that she had.
This all seemed too unreal. Never once had she heard of somebody making over TWENTY DOLLARS whilst performing ONE song!
"Oh my god ….I have enough for a cab to get home!" Ally realized. She had already estimated that the price would be somewhere around twenty dollars, and she counted up to ….THIRTY!
"Thank you again, Roger, I wouldn't have performed if it wasn't for you." Again, Roger waved his hand in dismissal.
He put his hand on her shoulder, looking her in the eye, and said, "Just get home, darling." But before Ally left, Roger slipped her a thin piece of paper that had his name and phone number on it. "Just in case you need another grandpa." Thanking him again, Ally pushed the money into her pocket, closed her guitar case, and rushes up the stairs where there were empty cabs lined by the sidewalk, waiting for somebody who needed a ride.
Ally jogged up the porch steps that were standing in front of her house happily. Once she looked up and saw that all the lights were on, she figured that she had just left them on before she left. Ally took the spare key from behind the bush plant and unlocked the door.
"Hello?" She called out and heard the football game blaring from the TV in the living room.
"PASS IT, PASS IT! COME ON BURNEY EVEN MY DAUGHTER COULD THROW A PASS BETTER THAN THAT!" Ally immediately recognized the person yelling as her father. She ran up to the living room and paused the game, causing Lester to turn around in shock.
He smiled warmly and half-hugged his daughter. "Who ended up taking you home?" He asked simply, as if she knew that he wasn't going to pick her up.
"What do you mean 'who took me home'? Dad, you just stood me up without even telling me!" Ally argued, gaining a perplexing face form her father.
"Ally, I texted you, telling you that I wasn't going to be able to come and get you." Ally unlocked her phone in frustration, opened up the conversation between her and her father.
"The last message you sent me was two days ago when you told me that you wanted me to come pick you up at the airport." Ally deadpanned. She knew that she was probably going to prove her father wrong.
But when he held the conversation on his phone, two new texts were apparently sent to her. One saying that he wouldn't be able to make it and the other saying that she should probably call Aunt Cindy.
Ally stuttered, how did this happen? Was her phone's internet now working? That would explain why nobody had answered her calls. "Then what happened?" She asked him, almost scared of the answer, even though it was probably just a glitch.
Little did she know that Austin and Cassidy were together in the practice room on the computer looking at the information of a certain smart phone.
"Cass, maybe this wasn't the best idea, Ally's our friend." Austin argued. He currently was sitting in the chair, monitoring the signals coming form her phone that weren't able to be connected to other devices.
"Austin, baby," Cassidy cooed as she rubbed Austin's shoulders. "she's trying to make it on her own so she can put you in the drain. She never cared for you, she just wanted the fame." She assured the lie even further, smiling evilly at her plan that would ruin Little Miss Perfect.
"But then why would she tell me that she had stage fright?" Austin asked, turning around to face the blond devil who was disguised as an angel.
"Because she wanted you to give her all that recognition, just so she could make you seem like a fool for working for her." Cassidy rubbed her fingers through Austin's soft hair and placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
Austin started to feel a little uncomfortable around Cassidy, especially around times like these.
"Don't worry," Cassidy whispered in his ear. "She deserves to know that she can't manipulate people into getting whatever she wants."
