Artist: Taylor Swift

Album: Red

Song: Red

Keep Calm and Disclaimer On: I do not own Austin and Ally, or the song red by Taylor Swift

Red & All Alone

This is always how it ends. With her silently letting tears roll down her cheeks as she stares helplessly at the contrasting black and white keys of the piano. It always ends with him storming out, slamming the door shut behind him, making the thunderous boom ring in her sensitive ears. And no matter what, it always starts the same. Always, that's how it always begins; with happy go-lucky smiles and elated glimmers in their eyes. However, somehow, at random times, it will all explode in their faces.

These brawls and explosive fights, they leave bruises and sometimes scars from the boxing gloves and, stinging, emotional shrapnel from the blast. Either way, it ends the same, no matter what; it always leaves them with a broken, throbbing heart, and a brainwashed, exhausted mind set.

This is exactly what runs through a certain songwriter's mind at the time. She thinks back to the fight and where she is now, leaning over the piano silently sobbing. This is when a bitter, half hearted, quick outburst of laughter rolls off her tongue. The routine is so old and so worn. Usually it happens like this: they explode from lack of sleep or some other stupid reason. For a day and a half they don't speak or go within a twenty yard radius of each other. Next: one of them realizes the stupidity of the fight and comes crawling back to apologize. Lastly they make up, by saying their apologies and enveloping each other in a bone crushing hug. This time, Ally has a gut wrenching feeling it won't end happily.

No, this time is different. What's said is said and what's done is done. This time, it's serious. This time, there's not going to be a cheesy make up with a bear hug. This time, all he wants is to forget about her and move on. And who is she to get in his way?

Ally lets out a deep, long sigh; one that shows her dismay and depression. With a deep intake of air she places her left hand over the keys in front of her. She then puts pressure on one of the stark white keys. The deep sound of a low F interrupts the heavy silence that fills the room. Sadly, her hopes of hearing her favorite instrument to clear up her depressing mood refuses to work; the depressing cloud over the dimly lit room still cloaks her body.

Knowing there is only one way to release the anger, frustration and sadness she feels, Ally let's her hands glide over the piano keys. The glossy surface tickles the tips of her fingers as she brushes them against the keys. Soon her hands come to a halt as she finds where she wants to start. Instantly her fingers form sad, depressing cords. The music her fingertips provide isn't even thought about as it reaches her ears. The symphony brings more tears to her swollen eyes as her emotions pour out of her heart.

Every sting and jab taken to her heart easily sounds in the music as the tears pour from her brown eyes.

Two years later and she still plays back that night. It's still so vivid, like she has her own personal sad movie. The worst part about the heartbreak is the flashbacks of him, just by the sight of something from the past. Not to mention the echoes of his voice that still haven't left the places he used to stand. Both of the horrible tricks her mind plays make her believe that he actually has come back; that he hasn't forgotten.

Suddenly a snap breaks her out of the runaway thoughts. Ally instinctively blinks her glazed over eyes, snapping her completely out of the dangerous thoughts running amuck in her brain. Her eyes cross almost instantly as she tries to focus on the hand hovering inches from her nose. Instinctively Ally recoils by jumping back with a squeak, her back jamming into the other side of the counter in Sonic Boom. She winces while arching her back and rubbing the now sore flesh of her lower back. Ally glances up to see her loving best friend Trish in a bedazzled mall cop uniform. She has her hip jutted out with a hand resting atop it, and what looks to be a water gun in her other hand. Her obviously plastic badge is lined with rhinestones and it takes up half of her chest. A grey hat sits atop of her naturally curly, bushy hair, rhinestones also catching the light there as well.

Ally doesn't even bother to scowl at her Latino friend for the scare that she inflicted; she doesn't have the energy in her fragile body. So instead Ally resorts to sighing in annoyance before snatching her songbook out from under the counter.

The five year old leather book now has a binding of duck-tape. Not one frayed page is not found in the book which will soon run out of any space to hold the songwriters secrets. Ally's spirits fall deeper into its dismay once her eyes catch the sights of only three more free pages of free space. None the less, she slides the pen cradled behind one of her ear and opens her book on the polished counter in front of her.

The empty page she opens to is torn on the edges and has a fold running right through the middle of the paper. Thoughtfully, Ally smoothes out the page held in the book before beginning to scribble her depressed thoughts neatly onto the stiff paper.

Once her pen begins to dance across the page an annoyed sigh hits her ears, however she doesn't even glance up. Instead all Ally does is ignore the sign of frustration. "Ally, I get it, it's that day," Trish sighs. Ally can almost hear Trish pinch the bridge of her nose. Still she keeps her head tucked into her book. "But you can't do this, it's been two years." Behind her now mid-back long brown curly hair acting as a curtain to her face as she leans over her book, Ally cringes. Trish continues, obliviously not seeing Ally's expression. "Just forget about him. I know it's hard to handle still," Trish says softly. So soft in fact that she drops her voice to a breathy whisper. "But Alls, after two years it's ok to forget about him, move on. Come on, your twenty now and still living with your dad. Not to mention your letting what happened two years ago affect you going to MUNY now? Honey, I love you, but he isn't coming back. Forget about him like he has obviously made it clear he forgot about us."

Ally gulps loudly. Trish's statement sends Ally's mind doing flips and causes her heart to pound in her ears. However she can't help but feel the definite pain in her heart from some of the words spoken. She knows he has forgotten about them, about her. He chooses not to remember, because, like he said two years ago, 'you're someone who is so easy to forget'. Ally can't say she didn't say regrettable things that night either; the only difference is she regrets them.

Ally captures her bottom lip with her teeth as she fights the tears. Luckily the stinging in her nose and the frog in her throat disappear fairly quickly. She glances up at Trish through her draping hair before turning her eyes back down to the cursive lettering that is her hand writing. "Forgetting him is like trying to know someone you haven't met, Trish," Ally mumbles before shoving her book back under the counter and stepping out from behind it. She walks past Trish and over to the Violin display, trying to occupy her antsy feet. "It's impossible," she states, not letting emotion seep into her tone. "That's just how it is. I won't forget." Ally's emotionless fa├žade is ruined when her voice cracks, the previous tears threatening to spring to her eyes. With a deep sigh she narrowly escapes from breaking down, which is about the fifth time today she's had to do such.

When Ally turns back to Trish, her eyes are completely glazed over. She stares just past Ally's shoulder, looking to be lounging in deep thought. In a flash of rhinestones Trish claps her hands over Ally's slumped shoulders. Brown eyes flash at brown eyes. "I know, why don't you write a song to get everything, 'ya know, out of your system?" Trish asks hopefully while dropping her hands after Ally gives her a deep glare. "Ouch, keep those daggers to yourself." Trish says as she scrunches up her small nose.

Ally snorts before her face again turns solid as stone. "News flash," Ally states, her lips turning in a fake smile and her hands making a rainbow shape in the air. "I tried that, it doesn't help much. Half of my book is filled with songs that I've written to get it out of my system." She scoffs. Quickly she walks back behind the counter.

Trish's grin disappears for a second, only to be replaced with a bigger, mischievous, grin. "But, have you ever sung it to an audience?" She asks, letting herself pace slowly back and forth.

Ally opens her mouth wide, ready to object, but all that comes is Trish's voice cutting her off. "I think not." The Latino exclaims, her words coming out a bit rushed.

Ally's eyes instantly widen at the suggestion. She violently shakes her head back and forth. "No, no, no!" She yells her voice at least an octave higher. "I am not going up on stage." Her voice squeaks and heightens with each word.

Across the counter, Trish pouts. "Please Alls; I think it will be really good for you. Healthy even. The best part is once it's done, it's done. You can continue to work in Sonic Boom. Oh, I can even make sure that I get a scout from MUNY to come to your performance, if you want." Trish babbles excitedly.

Ally's mouth purses, she can tell Trish has been planning to bring this up for a while now. "Let me think about it." Ally says with a sigh, before grabbing her book and walking off towards the green wooden stairs of Sonic Boom.

As soon as her foot flattens onto the first step of the stairs, the shuffling of footsteps fills her ears. Once she takes a full step up to the next stair Trish's smug tone hits her ears. "Actually, I already booked you a month ago," She states, her tone sounding mater-of-factly.

Ally's eyes pop out of her head and she instantly spins around on her three inch heels, almost falling from the current step she stands on. "What?" she screeches, staring down her friend with wild eyes.

Trish only shrugs, as if this is no big deal. "Yep, don't make me look like an idiot in front of the coach. I spoke highly of you." Trish commands before running out the door yelling something about being late for work. Sense when does she care?

Ally's shock turns into anger quickly as she instantly yells to her friend stepping down to the next step. "Trish!" It's too late though, she's already gone. Ally huffs and brings her foot crashing onto the step in frustration before stomping up the rest of the steps to her, once again, bleak practice room.

She slams the door behind her before slumping down it. With a pounding heart Ally looks towards the ceiling uttering a plea within her heart. "Please, God, don't let me choke."

"Go, go! I want to see how gorgeous this dress is on you." Trish exclaims giddily as she shoves Ally into a changing room.

Ally can't help but roll her eyes and let her feet willingly travel to the changing rooms. Once she stumbles into the dressing room Trish slams the door shut on Ally, leaving the young song writer nothing else to do but annoyingly roll her eyes yet again. Ally then begins to undress herself. As soon as everything but her undergarments is removed, Ally carefully takes the outfit Trish has commanded she try on off the hanger. Ally then slides into the summer dress and zips it up in the back. She runs her hands over the skirt once before checking herself in the full length mirror. While sweeping her eyes over her body, she is surprised to feel impressed with herself.

The dress she wears is strapless with a sweetheart cut collar. All the fabric reaches down to meet Ally's legs at mid-thigh. The skin tight bust only goes till the curve of her hips then the skirt begins proofing out just barely enough to give more shape to her body.

Red is the main color of the dress. An ice blue color highlights the red in the dress and is smudged against the black back fabric. Red roses are dotted over the dress, making them the focal point of the design. Ally can't say that the dress doesn't suit her either, because she actually thinks it's the best she's seen herself.

Ally allows herself to smile in the mirror before stepping out of her little stall. Sitting on a bench against the opposite wall is Trish. Boredom is evident in her eyes that stare blankly at her phone screen. Ally begins to clear her throat when a male voice pierces her ears. It comes muffled, but still, Ally can hear the familiarity it holds. "Dez, I am not wearing that! Plaid skinny jeans will not up my cool factor!"

Ally shakes her head, fleeing from the past. She refuses to believe he's here, because he can't. He would never come back to Miami, why would he want to. Nothing is waiting for him here, except maybe a deep part or here that still stands by, waiting to see him walk through the door again.

Quickly Ally focuses back on Trish andclears her throat quietly, hoping to gain her attention. Ally's attempts do not falter because her Latino friend glances up from her current attraction. As if it's nothing, Trish glues her eyes back onto the screen of her phone. However she quickly does a double take, all thoughts of her phone dropped. Her mouth hits the floor before turning into an unmistakable smirk. "Oh my gosh," she exclaims giddily. "Ally, that dress was made for you!" She squeals, her hands flying up and cupping her cheeks in excitement. "Oh, and I saw shoes on a rack that will look perfect with this. Let me go get them."

With that Trish disappears out of the dressing-room, leaving Ally's mind to again wonder. The voice, the one obviously fabricated by her mind is yanked to the front of her thought process almost immediately. She studies the voice over in her mind, taking mental notes on its characteristics. The deep rumble but smooth sound of the voice has no errors. A familiar growl in the tone contrasts with the still childish twist, just as she remembers. As tears threaten to spill from her eyes the piercing of another knife hitting her heart pangs her chest. Ally snaps her glistening chocolate eyes shut in attempt to stop the flow of salty tears. She fights against the lump burning a hole through her throat and tries to swallow around it.

When the sound of footsteps pound in Ally's ears, she instantly re-opens her eyes. She turns her head towards the entrance of the woman's dressing room, expecting to see Trish come waltzing up. That's not what she sees.

Across the hallway-through the archway acting as the thresh-hold of the dressing room-the entrance of the men's dressing room stands. And for a split second Ally catches a glimpse of beach blonde hair flying through the opposite archway before disappearing around the corner. Her breath does not fail to catch on the lump in her throat and suddenly breathing is like a talent she doesn't possess. Ally's hands instinctively go to rub at her eyes, making sure she isn't sleep deprived. It's useless however; the flash of blonde is gone from sight.

The next thing Ally registers is Trish shoving a pair of red, four inch wedges into her chest. "Here, slip those on. They should fit, I grabbed a size seven." She informs as she whips out her phone, her fingers beginning to tap furiously at the screen. Trish then glances up from the screen, eyeing Ally silently commanding her to put the shoes on.

Not allowing the terrible thoughts of him burden her mind, Ally drops the shoes right there and slips both feet into the shoes. Trish again glances from her glowing screen towards the brunette that now towers over her. Quickly the shorter of the two drops her phone back into her purse before skimming her fingers across her bottom lip as her eyes sweep over Ally. Her eyebrows crease in concentration for a good five minutes, leaving Ally nervously picking at her purple nail polish. After minutes of standing in awkward silence-Ally the only one realizing it-Trish pops up, hands clasping together and a smile laces her irises. "I know exactly what to do with you!" she informs, her tone resembling one of which they both used many times in high school. Trish grabs Ally by the shoulders, turns her around and shoves her back into the dressing-room stall. She then slams the door shut, sending the slap of wood against wood echoing around. "Change out of the clothes, then I'm gonna take you to Made to Makeup." She commands, her voice carrying over the top of the stall door.

Normally Ally would protest and tell Trish that she can help with the damage, but not this time. This time-seeing as Trish has sucked her into singing in front of an audience-she doesn't argue. Ally simply lets the new silence stay just that, silence.

After slipping off the shoes and sliding them under the door for Trish, Ally pulls the dress from her body. Once the fabric is hung on its hanger Ally begins to redress into her clothes. Ally pulls on her fitted, just above the knee, floral skirt first. She then tucks her white button up, peter-pan collar, sleeveless, top into the skirt before slipping into her white sandal, cork, wedges. Once Ally runs her hands over her skirt, flattening out any wrinkles, she turns to the mirror mounted on the back of the stall door. She looks at herself from side to side before patting her curled hair down in attempt to flatten any stray strands. After Ally unlocks the door and grabs her dress, she walks from the stall. Trish immediately snatches the dress from Ally and begins to gaze longingly at it. Since she is focused more on the dress than keeping pace with Ally, Trish falls behind a few strides. "You're gonna look fabulous, Alls." The she says, her eyes never leaving the fabric of the dress until both her and Ally begins to weave through the racks of clothing and towards the front counter.

Ally instantly cringes, as she does whenever Trish calls her by that particularnickname. Ever since he left, Ally has desperately tried to rid herself of the name of which he gave her. And just as always-when he manages to wiggle out into her open thoughts-the flash backs of their friendship and echoes of his voice bring anew to her mind. Images of blonde hair and hazel eyes dance across her coherent mind. A suffocating sensation returns to heart-or better said, the shattered remains of what once was. With the clenching of her chest comes her want, her need for him. She urns for his gentle touch and she can't help but realize he was all she ever wanted. Well, she had learned this when the door slammed shut behind him and all that came from her mouth was a scream strangled by her sobs. She realized he was the best thing that she had ever encountered was when he made electricity dance across her skin wherever he touched. And those few years ago, at the young age of sixteen, she found out what it's like to free fall. She might as well have been jumping out of an airplane, because falling in love with him is like trying to change your mind once you're already flying through the free-fall. It just all happens so fast. One minute all you have are friendly feelings, then, in just a blink of an eye, everything changes. Ally regrets it, she regrets it all. If she didn't go up to Cloud Nine, she wouldn't have fallen and hit the ground so hard. However, Ally knows regretting him is all the cause of her desperately trying to wind back the clock so she doesn't have to feel a love so strong. It's just a shame he never felt the same. Instead he left her all alone, a dark grey that consumed her life, but now she is determined to burn it down.

The sharp ding of the register punctures Ally's mind, causing her thoughts to leak out. This sends her snapping back into reality. She glances around, seeing Trish hand a man behind the counter her debt card. Ally blinks slowly. How she ended up at the counter of the clothing store, she will never know.

With Ally's mind still slightly glazed over the next thing she registers is Trish's hand encircling her wrist and dragging her out of the store. As soon as they step out of the store the bright sun hits the songwriter's cheeks. She tilts her head back in attempt to fill her whole face with the warm rays. Instantly Ally begins to fall behind Trish. So, in attempt to keep Ally at her side, Trish loops her arm through the dazed girl's.

Ally watches the people pass by on the sidewalk of the outdoor mall. Their faces are blurs that begin to stain her brain like ink. And as Trish leads Ally out to cross the street running through the center of the mall, she catches sight of the many glimmering cars. Trucks are coated in a thick layer of mud, others waxed with glimmering rims. Other, warn out, faded jeeps fill the mix, their dull color contrasting with the flamboyant surfboards mounted atop them. Then, of course the regular daily work cars burn her eyes with dull colorless paint. But only one car stands out in the mix as Trish pulls her forward, across the crosswalk. The car capturing Ally's focus is none other than a sleek, sliver, Maserati. Ally can't even attempt to stop the sigh falling off her lips. An immediate jab to the ribs makes the brunette whip her head around to face Trish. "What's that about?" The shortest of the pair asks as they turn onto the sidewalk. She tilts her head towards the herd of cars speeding away.

Ally scoffs nervously. "Pfft, what are you talking about?"

Trish's face drops into one that says 'you know exactly what I mean'. Ally sighs. "It's just the Maserati," Ally admits, head dropping down low. Trish shoots Ally a quizzical look before turning into Made to Makeup. Ally looks back up to see the walls splattered with multiple colors, making them pop against the white backdrop. Sections are divided throughout the spacious store, ranging from Lip products to foundation and everything in-between. Ally feels Trish's questioning glare, so she continues her explanation. "It's just that it reminds me of what love is like."Trish giggles before biting her lip to try to stifle it, something Ally doesn't understand. She thought what she said was completely serious.

"W-what do you mean?" Trish asks, voice still unsteady from the lack of control over her laughter. This makes a flash of anger travel through Ally's body before quickly exiting out of her toes. However, it doesn't stop Ally from rolling her eyes in annoyance and pushing away from her friend. Ally knows all too well that Trish obviously thinks that was the stupidest ever said. This makes Ally shut her mouth and occupy herself by picking up a tube of lip-gloss and surveying it.

"Well are you gonna explain or what?" Trish pipes up. Out of the corner of her eyes Ally witnesses Trish place her hands on her hips in frustration.

With a sigh Ally places the lip-gloss back and turns to her friend, making eye contact. "Well, the car is the love." Ally begins. "It's a sports car. It's supposed to go barreling down a never ending road. That's how love is too; it's how it's supposed to be, never ending. Love is supposed to be as passionate as sin. But sadly, that's not reality," She pauses, eyes stinging momentarily. Quickly, she clears her throat. "Love ends up traveling down a one way street, only to end abruptly at a dead end." Ally explains while ducking her head down to look at her painted toes. From the tips of her lashes, the small girl can see Trish cock an eyebrow at her. Trish is only wondering if Ally has lost her mind, gone mad after these two years. However, when the brunette says five words, that's all it takes to break Trish's heart. "That's how loving him was."

Never has Trish ever felt such a pang in her heart for another being. Never. Yes, she has felt pity and happiness for someone, but never this. She can almost feel what it's like to have your heart crushed. Rage fills her and she wants nothing more than to crush Austin Moon's face in. However the anger soon vanishes when her mind clicks. "Let's just go out to Karaoke Knight and you will sing, blow everyone away, and hopefully Austin will hear it someday. He will finally know how much he hurt you." She says.

Ally only nods half heartily sorrow cloaking her eyes glow. "Yeah, sure." She mutters before stalking up to the circular front counter. With a shake of her head Trish follows after Ally. She has no idea, Trish states mentally.

For the next hour Trish waltzes around the makeup aisles with a store employee. Both constantly hold colors up to Ally's face, studying it closely. All the while, Ally is hardly focusing on anything but her thoughts, because they will drag her away. She can't fight the reminders popping up everywhere though, like a flash of yellow-in just the right hue-in the sea of makeup on the shelves. Or the air carrying chatter from outside the doors of the store that resemble his voice. His song Billion Hits coming pounding over the speakers in the store. Once she even swore she saw his face for a split second in the fast moving crowd just outside the display windows. He soon begins to spin in her head like an uncontrollable rocket, fogging up her mind with the smoke, mercilessly not allowing her a clear thought. This throws her mind off balance, and sends thoughts rushing through her head at record speeds. And all of this amounts to, while being dragged around a store for an hour, training herself not to turn any attention to the tricks of her mind. Finally the final product comes out when Trish's, arms covered with bags, pulls her out of the store. Ally has trained herself not to believe the tricks of her eyes, ears, or the annoying goose bumps that make a wave across her skin for no reason.

All that's left to do now is to light him with the red fire raging in her mind and watch him burn to ashes.

Nervously, Ally nibbles at her bottom lip. Trish's hands are currently in her hair, working on flattening it down. Sizzling sounds in Ally's ears every time the flatiron clamps down on a strand of hair dampened with anti-damage spray. The nervous girl fixes her eyes on her bright red nail polish coating her fingernails. She again glances up at herself in the mirror. Trish's face is completely straight as she works with Ally's naturally curly hair in the mirror. The light bulbs that surround the mirror leave heat resting on Ally's cheeks. Muffled cheers filter through the crowed back stage of the popular night club the brunette is performing at, Karaoke Knight.

The name explains the whole point of the club. Every night people go on stage to perform for the raging club. Famous or not you can perform here and getting booked is a hard opportunity to break. And if you happen to be a star and are in Miami for whatever reason, there is no doubt that you will spend at least one night partying here. To make Ally's nerves worse, tonight is Karaoke Knight's one All-star week of the year; meaning stars from around the world are invited to come and perform for the club tonight and-not to mention-are paid major bucks. Too bad amateurs get paid more like twenty bucks. This makes getting booked is an even slimmer opportunity. Ally honestly doesn't know how Trish managed to get her in, because to her understanding only one other unrecognized artist is booked for this evening. With a sigh Ally saves herself from her terrifying thoughts. She looks back up at herself in the mirror as more cheers flood her ears.

Trish is just now finishing with the last clump of her usually curly hair that is now straight as an arrow for the first time ever. Her hair perfectly frames her face and her newly cut bangs sweep across her forehead. After observing her hair Ally scans her face, looking over her wonderfully done makeup.

Hints of purple sprinkle her eye lids, bringing out her dark brown eyes. Black full lashes surround the eye, along with black eyeliner. Perfect foundation conceals her blemishes from view. Cherry red lipstick glosses her lips, making them pop against her pale skin. Then a small amount of blush graces her cheeks.

Everything fits together like a jigsaw puzzle, forming the big picture. Ally can't believe how amazing Trish made her look tonight, from her shoes to her hair; she must admit she looks good. For once in her life Ally actually feels pretty. She flashes a smile into the mirror, white teeth sparkling in the light. Trish giggles, "I haven't seen that smile in awhile." She gushes happily.

Thank you, Trish." Ally whispers over the screaming crowd that, again, comes in the room muffled.

Trish only flashes Ally a smile before the curtains part behind them and in walks Cher Lloyd. Both their mouths drop to the floor. As she strolls by, accompanied by three men in black, she gives Ally a smile and wink before carrying on like nothing ever happened. Ally's face instantly breaks into a wild grin as she turns to Trish. She's just about to squeal in excitement when a gruff voice calls her name. "Ally Dawson." It calls over the shuffling of the other people walking around backstage and the occasional cheer of the crowd. However the upbeat giggles and joyful smiles surrounding her do not reflect her now sunken mood. Her stomach drops to her toes almost instantaneously. Slowly her feet shuffle towards the man as she raises her hand in the air, her mouth suddenly dry. Trish pats her back before giving her a forceful shove forward.

Ally stumbles forward from the force in result of tripping over her feet. She walks the rest of the way to the man standing by the black curtain separating backstage from the actual stage. Ally racks her brain for the exercises her and Trish put together over the past week to help with her stage fright. Isn't it funny how, no matter how hard you practice, or how many times you repeat the drill, the real thing will never fail to shake you? "I-I'm Ally Dawson." She croaks out nervously once she reaches the one who called her name. The man before her who is dressed in black, clipboard tucked under his arm and headset clamped to his head, motions Ally closer.

Desperate brown eyes stare at Trish as the one who is their owner is lead over to the part in the curtains. A piece of blue tape at the tip of Ally's shoes acts as an invisible barrier keeping her from rushing onto the stage. As if that would happen. "Stay here," the man commands as he glances at his watch before scribbling something on the paper clipped to his clipboard. "You're on in two minutes." He informs without so much as a glance up then speed-walks off.

As the words register in Ally's mind it feels as if her stomach blows up. Her breaths become steep and uneven as fear paralyzes her body. Stay here? No problem. Ally thinks grudgingly to herself. She has to wonder what she's even doing here.

The songwriter takes a frantic glance at Trish who gives her two thumbs up, also adding in a stretched smile. Ally can only return her gesture with a wide eyed, half hearted, fearful smile; and it only lasts for a millisecond-at the most-then her face returns to its previous terrified state.

With a pounding heart Ally stands, stiff as a board. Her pleas to God consist of her begging him to give her more time until she has to walk onto that stage. Sadly for her, time passes by too quickly. Her short period of two minutes feels more like two seconds. When the same stage manager taps her on her shoulder, she instantly flinches. "Ally Dawson," he states, his hot breath fanning out over her ear. Quickly, Ally turns to face him, her heart jumpstarting from shock. With a giant step back Ally makes sure to put a good two feet in-between his body and hers. The manager, obviously not realizing the awkwardness of the situation, remains monotone. "You're on." He informs while pushing the black curtain aside with his clipboard and motioning Ally through.

Ally takes one last backward glance at Trish. After taking a deep breath she steps through the flimsy curtain that acts as the wall separating her from the world. It separates being Ally Dawson: the backstage songwriter, to Ally Dawson: the confidant performer.

Ally's heels hit the polished black stage floor and she gulps. Luckily she is still hidden by the side stage wall, giving her only a miniscule amount of relaxation. Out of the shadows, another stage manager steps out, her chestnut hair tied back into a tight pony tail. With no words leaving her lips, the manager places a microphone in Ally's shaking hands.

Once the cool metal of the microphone handle touches her palm her hands break into a wild sweat. Quickly, Ally wipes away her tangible nervousness on the soft fabric of her dress. She waits, with a pounding pulse in her ears, for her cue to step into the blinding stage lights and towards the stool and glittering acoustic guitar in center stage. Almost instantly her cue booms in her ears; "Now, please welcome Miami Local, Ally Dawson!" The voice sounds somewhat similar to an announcer's voice on one of her dads wrestling shows.

Ally wipes all of her thoughts from her mind and takes her first steps into the lights. Immediately, after revealing herself to the audience, cheers and applause reign in her ears.

Heat from the show lights blinding her eyes cause her cheeks to burn. She blinks her eyes, trying to find the crowd behind the blinding white spotlight trained on her. Once her eyes meet those of the crowd, Ally wishes she didn't detach her eyes from the guitar beckoning her arrival. The air is knocked from her lungs and her breathing catches in her throat. All eyes are gazing at her, everyone's attention on only her. Her heartbeat accelerates in her chest, thumping so rapidly Ally can't help but fear it will pop out of her chest. Instead of allowing her eyes to bulge out of her head, she darts her eyes back to the guitar propped up against a stand next to the stool.

As soon as Ally reaches her destination she positions herself on the polished wooden stool. Surprisingly everything she has done so far hasn't amounted to her making a fool of herself. She has been, amazingly, graceful.

With one quick movement she slides the mic into its holster atop of its stand; Ally keeps her eyes casually glued to her shoes as she does so. Once she snatches the guitar resting next to her up, she slings the strap over her shoulders and takes a questioning peek at the band resting in the shadows behind her. The drummer gives her a curt nod, signaling they are ready when she is. With the same nod in reply Ally turns back to the crowd in front of her, finally making eye contact. Internally she reminds herself to smile, so she begins to rummage through her brain for a memory that never ceases to delight her.

The first memory to make way to her mind is the day when Austin Moon and her became partners and best friends. She must scold herself for smiling widely at the thought, but no matter what, that moment will always hold joy in her heart.

She nibbles at her inner cheek when she reminds herself that the eyes boring into her right now are only eyes. They can no longer dictate her life, forcing her to shrink into herself in a dark corner. She will never let them have the power to make her apprehensive again.

Ally takes in a deep breath, sucking in her new found courage. She then lets words fall from her tongue and to her astonishment, it comes out smooth and powerful. No longer will her mouth stutter and her throat lock around her words. "Thank you," she announces into the mic. "I wrote this song for my old partner and best friend Austin Moon," she pauses when gasps and murmurs reach her ears from the audience. She pushes past her deep unrest given to her from the whispers in the sea of people. "It's called Red." She informs over the still hissing crowd.

She waits for the now cheering crowd to settle; soon they do, causing a cloud of silence to fall over the large room of by-standers. When the silence hits Ally bows her head, studying the guitar strings under her fingertips. Normally she would play the piano, but the guitar fit the song just right. As soon as she is curtain only one spotlight shines over her body, she begins to play the intro of the song? After seconds of the intro Ally's voice joins into the mix.

Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street
Faster than the wind
Passionate as sin, ended so suddenly
Loving him is like trying to change your mind
Once you're already flying through the free fall
Like the colors in autumnso bright just before they lose it all

At this point the base begins to pick up, making Ally swing the guitar from her shoulder and place it back onto the stand. Her lips never leave the mic. She then grabs the microphone from the stand while standing up. Ally places the stand off to the side. The entire band begins to play with the music. What once was only one spotlight on Ally has turned into numerous muli-colored lights flashing around her to the beat of the tempo. The lights are under the command of the drums. Ally follows the drums lead, much like the lights, and picks up her voice as well. Losing him was blue like I'd never known
Missing him was dark grey all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you've never met
But loving him was red
Loving him was redTouching him is like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you
Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old favorite song
Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword and realizing there's no right answer
Regretting him was like wishing you never found out love could be that strongLosing him was blue like I'd never known
Missing him was dark grey all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you've never met
But loving him was red
Oh red, burning red

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes
Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go

But moving on from him is impossible
When I still see it all in my head Burning red!
Darling it was red!Oh, losing him was blue like I'd never known
Missing him was dark grey all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you've never met
Cause loving him was red yeah yeah red We're burning red

And that's why he's spinning round in my head Comes back to me burning red Yeah yeah

Cause love was like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street

Ally's voice comes to a halt, along with the band that plays the last notes of the song. The crowd breaks into a booming applause that fills Ally's confidence. Their wild cheers and chants make Ally want to explode with pride. She smiles, this time without having to think about it. However a hiccup occurs in her joyful mood and turns to fear when she catches sight of a head full of wavy beach blonde hair. Hazel eyes gape at her in the front row.

Instead of allowing what is obviously a trick of her mind to ruin her moment she pushes the thoughts of him away almost instantaneously. She smiles and waves to the crowd as she walks from the stage, priding herself for training her brain to push back the occurrences of him.

With one last joyful smile and grateful wave Ally scampers off the stage to a proud, welcoming, Trish.

Trish waves Ally goodbye-the action almost unseen in the darkness cloaking the night-from the interior of her car. Ally smiles at Trish before waving her goodbye from halfway up her driveway. Trish, again, waves before pulling onto the abandoned street of Ally's neighborhood and speeds down it and out of sight.

Ally smiles to herself before walking the rest of the way up to her door; hopping up the two stairs of her porch to get there. The red door, inches from her face, burns her eyes from the still evident paint fumes of when her father repainted it last week. The brunette rummages through her black clutch in hunt for her keys. The fitted key to her house slides into the lock rather roughly. None the less she turns it clockwise and the door pops open.

Suddenly feeling the wars from the stressful day hit her mind full-on, all Ally can do is slide her feet into the foyer of the house. Once inside Ally leans back on the door, successfully shutting it with a slam. Her legs give out under her and she slowly slides down the cool wood of the door. As soon as her bottom hits the welcome rug under her, she kicks off her shoes, allowing them to clatter against the dark hard wood floor.

Blankly Ally stares ahead into the dim moon-lit surroundings of her dark house. Light streams in through the blinds of the large window in the sitting room off to her left. Just down the wide hall of the foyer darkness seeps into the silver lighting from the dark staircase leading upstairs. Past the stairs-and the hallway of the foyer-the family room opens up into a spacious window littered room, the kitchen just off to the left of it. Ally may not be able to see most of the family room or the kitchen, but she can lay this house out perfectly in her mind. It's the only house she has ever lived in.

She now focuses on the windows staring back at her from the partially exposed living room and they change her train of thought. Their plantation-shutter blinds are snapped shut. Just behind the shutters is a magnificent view that will never tire Ally. The ocean spans out behind the house crashing against the rarely occupied shore. Seeing how the beach is owned by a good friend of her father that lives on a beach house perched on stilts at the water's edge, it is not open to the public. The best part is that Ally has unlimited access to the beach, not that she ever uses it. But because of the gleaming, discarded, beach the view is even more extravagant. Not to mention living high up on the hill just across the forgotten road separating the beach from the neighborhood gives the view bonus points.

As thoughts of the beach cross her over her mind the sudden craving of Fruity Mint Swirl ice-cream calls to her sweet-tooth. Ally stands while fighting off the fatigue stiffening her joints and walks the short distance to the stairs. She shuffles up the steps and walks to her room. After striping herself of her evening clothing, she throws on a pair of grey sweats and an over-sized T-shirt Austin once gave her. It's sent still has the slightest tinge of Austin, a summers breeze. Ally bundles up the fabric to her nose and inhales deeply, sighing while retreating to bliss. Instantly Ally snaps out of her daydream and drops the fabric quickly. It falls back to her chest, wrinkles now creasing it. Ally curses mentally to herself. Maybe that song didn't get everything out of her system. Oh, how she wishes he would just go away, leave her mentally just as he did physically. She just can't help it though. The mere thought of his arms around her again sends shivers coursing down her spine. Ally lets out a disgruntled sigh, defeated and bounces back down the stairs.

Ally slides her feet across the hardwood flooring in the living room and turns on a lamp by the leather couches facing the flat screen TV. Its bright light carries the short distance to the kitchen, lighting up the surfaces a dim shade of orange. After flicking the lamp on, Ally follows after its light leading to the stainless-steel fridge. Once facing her deformed reflection in the surface of the freezer door, she reaches her hand out towards the handle. Her fingers barely skim the smooth surface when a haste knock echoes off the walls and rings in Ally's ears. She stops, arm still extended out, a quizzical expression crossing her features.

While turning to the stove clock she drops her arm and it hits her side with a muffled slap. The dull green numbers read: 11:52.

Her shoulders slump and her bottom lip juts out as she works through the explanation for why the knock sounded. The possibility of her father getting locked out strikes her attention. However, Ally quickly shoos the thought away, it's not possible. Her father is at a High School Reunion in California, and will be there for at least four more days. Ally inhales sharply, resisting the urge to shove a lock of hair between her teeth. Mentally she contemplates whether or not to go and check the door. Every fiber in her being screams at her to stay put, whoever it is will leave soon enough.

Forced to ignore the pounding in her chest and the goose-bumps spanning out over her skin, Ally swings the freezer door open. A blast of cold air rushes past her cheeks, making a shiver run through her.

Realizing the person is most likely gone from the door makes Ally fall back into ease. Once she falls back into relaxation she begins to hum Double Take softly while hunting down the Fruity Mint Swirl container. She pushes random items out of the way during her search. Deep inside of her heart, the broken shuddered peaces that crave revenge, command her to hinder humming that song. Somewhere inside of her, something native, screams back with just as much muster. Never, it exclaims.

While still overridden by her mental banter, Ally slowly pulls her favorite ice-cream from its freezing surroundings. The freezer door barely shuts with a sucking sound when a breathy, panting voice breaks her from her thoughts. As if a spell is cast upon her, Ally freezes just like the ice-cream in her hands-well, the ice-cream that is now splattered on the floor. Her humming is forgotten when the tune gets caught in her voice box. With wide, bulging, eyes Ally turns on her toes to be sure the she herd right; because, frankly, this voice is too real. It's not ignorable. "Still keep the spare under the mat, huh, Alls?"

Ally gasps, breathing forgotten when she sees his face in all its glory. It's red and flustered his mouth hanging open as he regains his breath. Blonde hair clings to his forehead with what must be sweat. Hazel eyes bear into hers with playfulness, but mostly guilt. He is defiantly real. However just in case, Ally rubs circles into her golf-ball-size eyes with hope he will disappear. Nope-still there.

Her heart feels shattered all over again and her stomach drops not just past her toes, but all the way to the basement. Inside of her gaping mouth her tongue involuntarily flops around, trying to find what to say. She takes a sharp intake of air, about to speak, only to have her mouth filled with Austin's voice. "Was the song true?" He questions, desperation rings in his tone and he takes a step forward while Ally automatically takes a weary step back.

Ally swallows, hoping to give moister to her suddenly dry throat. "W-what are you doing here?" she asks while choking on her own words, panic dripping from her tone.

Austin takes another step forward, immediately causing Ally to step back. Determination laces his eyes, also mixing with something Ally has never had the opportunity of seeing before. She can't decode it is and that drives her crazy. "Ally, was the song true? What you sung at Karaoke Knight, is that really how you feel," he pauses, shyly glancing down-something Ally has rarely seen-before reconnecting their eyes in an intense stare. "Did you mean everything?"

Ally's eyes go wide with realization, he was there; that was the flash of hazel and blonde in the crowd. Her mouth opens and closes numerous times, causing her to resemble a fish out of water. Finally she finds her words. "You were there?" she asks, purposefully ignoring his question, voice high and squeaking.

Yet again Austin steps towards Ally, sending her stepping back only to ram into the ice cold refrigerator exterior. Ally flattens herself against the door when Austin takes a baby step closer. "Look Alls," he sighs, sincerity showing in his tone. Again another baby step closer makes Ally attempt to send herself through the fridge door. "I'm so sorry, for everything. I'm sorry for what I said, for leaving without you for California. I didn't mean anything that I said that night," another step closer sets Austin two feet from Ally, causing her to inhale is fresh sent. Goose-bumps spread over her skin as it reaches her senses. She holds her breath, hoping not to get the fragrance of him up her nose. "Ally, you don't know how sorry I am. I was so upset you didn't want to come with me. I was jealous, and I know it's a bad excuse but-"

"Excuse me?" Ally cuts him off from his rant, voice high-pitched with anger and eyebrows raised in disbelief. What could he be jealous of? Did he really cause her all of this heartache because of his jealousy?

Austin only nods, deciding I'd be safer to forget the obvious anger in Ally's voice. "Do you remember what happened that day?" he questions while shuffling a little bit closer. This time Ally doesn't notice, she only crosses her arms over her chest in annoyance, aiming a deathly glare at him.

"Yeah, we got into a fight." Ally retorts sarcastically with roll of her eyes.

Austin shakes his head, never detaching his eyes from hers. "No, Dallas kissed you." He growls, eyes inflamed with what can only be jealousy. He places his hand to the side of Ally's head and leans slightly forward. Ally gulps, realizing that she is now caged in. She drops her arms, letting them fall back at her sides. "I thought you preferred him over me. And it didn't help when you said you wanted to stay. I thought it was because of Dallas." He whispers, his tone husky and intense which causes Ally's heart to race.

She gazes into Austin's eyes sadly with hurt shinning through. "You honestly think I would ever chose him-a boy who before he saw me in that skimpy little bathing suit really paid me no mind-over my friends?" Ally pauses taking in a small gulp of air. "Choose him over you?"

Austin clears his throat and rakes a hand through his messy blonde hair. His face then comes ever closer to Ally's, his nose only inches away from hers. With the distinct fragrance of Austin wafting into her nose, Ally can't fight with her eyes as they droop slightly. "You are unforgettable. It's not possible not to remember."

Austin's intense, breathy words come hushed to Ally's ears. His hot breath fans out over her lips-the tinge of mint coating it-as the words fall from his tongue. The brunette fights the urge to lean up and pull him into a lip-lock. Really, what else does she have to lose? Maybe her pride, her self-control?

It takes Ally a second to gain control of her mind again. She exhales sharply, trying desperately to sound stern and un-wielding as she speaks. "You think you can just come waltzing back into my life? Say a few sweet nothing's in my ear and I will instantly crumble under your fingertips? You think all of this," Ally says, motioning between her and Austin in the small space left separating their bodies. "Will make me forgive you?" She whispers, none of her intended sharp tone leaking into her voice.

Austin closes his eyes sadly before shaking his head, causing his nose to brush Ally's. "No, I've known for the past two years coming back and apologizing will only make you upset with me. I knew that, that fight wasn't one minor scrape, but a ragged scar. But when I saw you singing that song I got hope that maybe you would want to hear my apology."He says, voice normal volume now since he has long ago taken a step back. Inwardly Ally scowls her mental self for longing him to be closer to her, because she now feels the chill in the air. "Ally, I know this is late, and hearing your confession makes me feel all the guiltier, but, I loved you too. Still do. Ever since that Halloween party we went to when we were fifteen and I heard you sing like that, I couldn't help but fall. And let me tell you Ally Dawson, I fell hard. That was what was wrong with our friendship; our only flaw. We were so terrified of messing up the friendship we had, we didn't try for anything more. That right there only causes unseen tension. It was a smart move, but still so idiotic." Austin sighs; making sure Ally has enough time to process everything.

Complete and utter shock takes a toll on Ally's motionless body. Austin's confession rocks her world and sends the floor disappearing from under her. Slowly her mouth drops, eyes widening to large platters. Austin continues with a defeated sigh. "I know this won't change your mind, but know that I love you just like how you used to love me. You need to know. You have a right to." He whispers the last sentence softly before backing away completely. Ally can't stop herself from leaning forward in effort to have his summer's breeze fly into her nose.

Austin abruptly turns, his back facing Ally, before stating halfheartedly over his shoulder, "Hope we can keep in touch."

Without thinking anything over Ally surges forward out of instinct. She runs around Austin so she acts as a road block, hands resting over his chest concealed by a purple V-neck. "I never said I fell out of love." She whispers softly while gazing deeply into Austin's golden orbs.

By the blank look in his eyes Ally can tell Austin is contemplating what she just said. Realization strikes his features. His eyes widen for a brief second before a lopsided grin tugs at his lips. In no time he takes action. He cradles Ally's neck in one hand and her cheek in the other. He brings his lips hastily smashing down onto her's. Now, with both their bodies pressed flush against the other Ally finds herself kissing back. Her hands find themselves into Austin's silky hair and she brings his head ever closer.

Their lips slide over each other's in perfect harmony. Butterflies erupt in Ally's stomach and behind her closed lids she sees the large dominating explosions of fireworks. Everything is exploding around her, causing heat to smear across her cheeks in a fiery blush. Asking for more, Ally parts her lips slightly, Austin immediately following her lead, and she now knows the appeal of French kissing.

Even as they both separate when the need for air becomes too great, the fireworks still continue full blast in large explosions with flamboyant colors. Austin rests his forehead against Ally's, his hands now resting on her hips and goofy smile plastered to his face. Ally giggles while gazing into his joyful eyes. That is until she remembers one more thing she must do.

Slowly Ally steps out Austin's embrace. This earns a disapproving grunt from the rock-star. Ally raises her hand into the air quickly, making Austin's eyes turn quizzical for only a second until he realizes what her plan is. The petite brunette acts quickly before the one before her jumps out of the way. Her hand comes into contact with his cheek, a loud smack ringing through the house.

Ally shakes her handout as pin-like prickles assault her palm. Austin, however, hunches over with his hands clapped over his now red cheek, a small yipe puncturing the air. He straightens quickly, still holding his cheek. "Guess I deserved that." He grumbles, eyes gazing down towards his injured cheek.

Ally only nods before crashing her lips back against Austin's. He happily forgets the stinging screaming on his face. Austin then kisses back with just as much passion and love as Ally. Once they again separate Austin's words run out of his mouth. "I'm so, so sorry Alls," he whispers with heavy breaths and tightening his grip on her small waist. Just know I didn't mean anything I said back then. I love you, then and now and I just wish that stupid fight never happened."

Ally sighs, nudging her nose against his. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean anything I said either. I was just so upset with the news and everything. I really wished I went, just so I could have been with you. I ruined the whole plan. I still love you, so much, know that." She whispers back as her fingers tug at the hairs on the nape of Austin's neck. She lazily brushes her lips against his before resting her head on his shoulder.

Austin pecks the top of Ally's head, sighing into the soft hair. "You are still my everything. Hollywood wasn't even close to how amazing you are. I can't believe I gave you up." With the last sentence Ally lifts her head, tears brimming her eyes as they attach to Austin's.

"It doesn't matter now," Ally says, her voice content and airy. "Everything is in the past now, we're here right now. I couldn't ask for anything better."

Austin smiles into Ally's hair once she places her head back onto his chest. "Ally," Austin hums. Ally hums back in response, too lazy to speak. "I love you." He says. Every word is spoken with only one emotion. Love, pure and utter love.

Ally smile widely with joy, snuggling ever closer to Austin as she forgets about her laziness. "I love you too, Austin, I love you too." She replies, her tone only filled with her love and happiness.

"Trish!" ally exclaims to the back of the Latino's head while looping her arm through Austin's. She can't help the huge smile on her face as she strolls up to her best friend, imagining Trish's face once she sees Austin.

Trish turns away from the menu board she stares at with the restaurant name of Minni's. She catches sight of Austin and smirks. By this point Austin and Ally are now standing next to Trish. Sadly, Ally is left disappointed when Trish's reaction doesn't amount to the one she fantasized. Trish only shrugs her shoulders casually. "Hey Ally, hey Austin." She greets nonchalantly.

What! Ally's mind screeches, she is supposed to be surprised, upset, beating Austin to a pulp! Something! When Trish told Ally to forget, she never imagined Trish meant this. She never thought Trish meant to go this far.

Just as Ally begins to open her mouth to ask Trish if she missed something, a different voice fills the air. "Hey Trish!" exclaims a red head who comes bouncing up before slinging an arm around her shoulder.

Trish stiffens instantly, her face turns bitter. "Get. Off. Me." She growls lowly.

Ally's mouth drops. What!

The confused girl hopelessly points between the two of them. The way Dez looks, the way Trish's eyes speak for themselves; something's up and the fishy smell is pungent in Ally's nostrils.

"Wait!" Austin exclaims next to Ally, his eyes switching back and forth between Dez and Trish. "Since when have you guys been meeting up?"He asks, his voice holding the same old astonishment that it used to when he was sixteen. Childish yet mature. Totally contradicting, but true.

Again Trish shrugs as she pulls out a chair at the nearest table and plops down on it. "Just since you got into town, this is like the third time." She admits, hiding her face.

Ally's eyebrows knit themselves together as she attempts to sort out Trish's words in her mind. Her eyebrows instantly detangle themselves from one another and her mouth drops once again once realization strikes her. "Have you guys been secretly dating this whole time?" Ally asks, her voice conveying her disbelief.

Trish and Dez's faces don't fail to immediately contort into a mask showing their disgust. "Eick!" they exclaim together. Both shiver-Trish standing abruptly from her chair and while a huge step in the opposite direction of Dez.

"No, no, no!" Trish chants quickly. "But we have been calling each other for a few months now." Trish assures. "Just business though." Ally's nose flares in anger.

They've been in touch with each other but not once has Trish said 'Hey Ally I got Dez on the line, maybe you can talk to Austin.' Never has she once said that.

"What the crap! Why didn't you tell us?" Austin asks with the pinch of furry in his words.

Dez scrunches his face up before letting it relax. "Oh we've been planning the whole Karaoke Knight thing for weeks," On the spot Trish shoots Dez a terrifying glare. He doesn't catch it and continues his speech. "Actually months." Dez corrects himself before smiling innocently. Only when a horrified Trish gives him a hard glare and rams her elbow into his rib cage does Dez stop speaking. Dez yipes in pain before glaring back at Trish. This all takes the short period of time of only three minutes to happen.

"Text me later Alls!" Trish exclaims before dashing away in the opposite direction. As she darts away she calls behind her shoulder, "Only if you have nice things to say!" And with that she disappears around a corner.

Austin then turns his glare to Dez after hearing Ally mutter under her breath, 'Guess you won't be hearing from me then.' He has to refrain from smirking.

Dez's hand flies to the back of his neck once Ally's hard eyes bear into him as well. With a scream he runs in the opposite direction-one different than Trish's path-screaming, "Don't kill me! Who will watch over Benjamin the Fourth?" His muffled cries silence as she vanishes into the crowd of shoppers.

Austin glances at Ally who, in return, glances at him. They are immediately overpowered with the giggles and soon burst into laughter. After Ally resorts to clutching her side in effort to stop the burning there she straightens, giggles still present. Austin follows her actions after, wheezing from the lack of air. "We should probably thank them actually." She states while wiping a stray tear from her eye.

Austin shakes his head, a mischievous grin sculpting his perfect lips. "Na," he says with a wave of his hand. "Let's get our revenge first."

So, like or dislike? This is my first A&A fanfiction, so I hope I did good. Please read and review, it makes the world go round. :)