Template:Under a Paper Moon 4

'''A/N: We did it. We're here. We got to the final round. I'm sitting here in a state of paralysis because I'm just so surprised I got through! (That, and I'm still recovering from Last Dances & Last Chances :p) But guys, I want to thank you all for getting me here. It's all because of you guys! And I'm honestly so excited to be able to share with you this final chapter which I promise will deliver (hopefully!)'''

'''WARNING: BY THE WAY, THIS CHAPTER IS LONG. I MEAN, REALLY LONG. you've been warned.'''

SUMMARY: Set in three years time from the current season [s3], we see Ally Dawson living with the aftermath of the collapse of ‘Team Austin’. She’d been reverted to her shy, insecure self, and she no longer had her friends to help her out of her shell. As it happened, fate aligned the four to meet once again in the small rural town of Porcelli, Italy. Their motives for being there were all different, but after the bridge collapse, no one could get out of town. They were forced to stay together.

And through this time, they all began to bond again. Old feelings were stirred, and friendships reconciled. But with Austin desperate to take his girlfriend Amelia to the Grammy awards to perform as he’d promised and Ally hoping to get back to Miami to see her father re-wed, a lot of hope was fading.

Their fates will be decided in this final installment of ‘Under A Paper Moon’.

CHAPTER FOUR: FINALE

“Dear Austin,

There are a lot of things that have been left unsaid between us. Both past and present, a silence has encompassed our lips – even when words are spoken. It’s not enough to appreciate someone from afar anymore, all of these messages have to be broadcast. That scares me. It scares me that no one but me knows who I am.

Well, maybe you did. A long time ago.

Anyway, that’s not where I left you before. It was dawn, and I sat on the small incline looking over the bridge to Porcelli. The dew stuck to the blades of grass, and I nestled into the earth, absorbing the comfort nature gave.

My eyes once again wandered to the bridge - they had finished building it.

The moon was still painted up in the sky, and a few stray stars dotting their way around a rising sun. The weather was chilly, as I tucked myself into a ball.

I watched the completed bridge with complete melancholy – it may be built, but it’s already Saturday. Basically, it means I’d missed the wedding.

The only moment that my father needed me to be there for him, and I missed it.

That’s why I was awake at what could be construed as an ungodly hour. The time gave me pure serenity and bliss, silence blanketing the hills where I now sat. My face was pale with the reality I had come to face, a grimace permanently contorting my features.

It’s like high school all over again.

While I sat there, on my own, I had a lot of time to reflect. I thought about my reconciliation with Dez, Trish, and you. I also burdened myself with the guilt of abandoning my father on one of the merriest days of his life. To top it all off, I was the reason you could have died.

I’ll stop you there, because you’re no doubt screaming at me from wherever you’re reading this letter. You’d probably argue that your jumping was of no representation of my decision. Well really, it was. I should have stabilised myself. I should have – I don’t know. It sounds better in my head. But Austin, I’ll carry with me forever that vision of you falling... with me.

I believe that was the exact moment I realised I could never hate you, no matter how much protest I gave profusely in the months leading up to the catalytic event.

Anyway, I was sitting on the bluff, lamenting everything that was going wrong with my life (which happened to be nearly everything at the time).

“Ally?” A voice quivered from behind.

It was no surprise to me to learn that the residents of Porcelli were early risers.

I swivel on the ground, but remained situated on the grass. “Oh... hi Amelia.”

With a thread of hair tied between her fingers, Amelia looked a nervous wreck. Her iridescent glow was somehow dimmed by this ugly guilt she dirtied herself with. She looked truly inconsolable.

“Ally, I almost killed you yesterday!” She blurted out, her hands flailing to her sides.

Well, in retrospect, I can’t say I don’t agree.

“You couldn’t have possibly known I was going to fall.” I reasoned with her, rising to my feet.

Amelia screwed up her face, revolted by the way I worded it. “It was still my fault!”

And so a pointless argument blossomed. We stood there, idle with nothing but our own admissions of guilt (nothing dissimilar to a tennis match).

Until we were suddenly interrupted by an ominous slicing sound.

“Huuuuh?” We both retorted in unison.

Our eyes shifted from the bridge to the outline of the town behind. It stood sturdily along the cliff face, yet something felt amiss. There was something wrong with this picture – I just couldn’t peg what it was.

And I was normally pretty good at picking out faults, like I used to do so often with myself.

“What was that?” Amelia shrieked, quaking with the fear of the unknown.

So, like that, we decide to race aimlessly towards the imminent danger. The sound soon turned into ‘wooshing’, and my interest was piqued. A million thoughts were racing around inside my head, my brain now resembling a race car track. But with all these ideas, it seemed the most obvious was the true one.

As Amelia and I ambled into the town square, we saw the focal point that so many Porcelli citizens had gathered to admire –

There was a helicopter planted within the middle of the pavement.

The crowd of Italians were silenced with both curiosity and confusion. The sleek, charcoal black blades of the vehicle were the most modern thing within the town. As most buildings had paint chips, and the walkway trotted on by thousands, the glossy copter stood out like a boat in the sea.

Everyone was entranced by the helicopter. The pilot had yet to reveal themselves, and the crowd hushed indistinctly between one another. What could a stranger possibly be doing in Porcelli?

Suddenly, a man with silver hair emerges from the vehicle. Dressed entirely in black, the pilot wore a brazen smile and braved the Italian soil.

Nobody said a word as he made his way through the crowd.

“I’m here for an ‘Austin Moon’?”

My heart fell through my chest.

“That’s me, that’s me!” You hollered from the back of the crowd. You made your way to the forefront, meeting the smiling pilot. “Take me home!”

So that was it. You were out to fulfil your purpose, to perform at the Grammys. The helicopter would only allow room for one more passenger, undoubtfully Amelia, to accompany you as your date. (This theory was confirmed as Amelia seductively wrapped her arms around your waist, connecting to you at the hip.)

This would no doubt be the last time I’ll ever see you.

But then you turned around.

You looked directly at me.

And I swore I could see you smile through your eyes.

“Amelia...” you began hesitantly, dragging your eyes away from me and forcing them on Amelia.

“Yeah, babe?”

“You’re not coming to the Grammy’s with me... and I think we should break up.”

I will be the first to admit I did not see that coming. I must say Austin, that was a little insensitive of you. I mean, you dumped Amelia in front of her entire town. You should have seen the looks Agnes darted into your back.

Anyways, I didn’t stay long to absorb Amelia’s heartbroken facade. Instead, I opted to walk back into the Porcelli kitchen and begin with my duties. Now that everyone was up, there was probably work for me to do.

And I didn’t want to have to say goodbye to you again, knowing you were jetting off to America.

So at a grudging pace, I returned to the kitchen I’d been assigned to (gender inequity, anyone?) as I began scrubbing dishes. The suds rose to the top of the sink, as I scoured each piece of equipment to ensure they were immaculate.

I don’t know how long I was cleaning for. I assumed a while, seeing as the sun had peaked over the horizon when I consciously took note of the time.

All was going well too. I was cleaning, I was focused, I was getting my job done...

Well, that was the case until you walked into the kitchen.

“Ally, I need to talk to you.” You exasperated, leaning on the counter behind me.

“Austin... they prepare pasta there. Stopping sitting on it.” I swat him with my towel, as we both jovially giggle like little kids.

Then my expression, now eerily sombre, droops when I realise that you’re saying goodbye.

I look at you intuitively, as your lips purse themselves to sputter out words. “Ally... I want you to come back with me.”

I drop the plate in my hands. (Which with your lightning fast reflexes catches, saving me a stern talking to from Agnes. I never thanked you for that.)

“What, you just want me to totter down with you to the Grammies like it’s no big deal?” I exclaim, stunned.

“What do you mean, Ally? Are we not... okay?” You murmured, both coy and unable to meet my eye. I always broiled you under pressure – it was the only way I could get emotive answers out of you.

I consider your statement for a moment, placing the towel untailored on the bench. “I’m not comfortable to face the public with you anymore.. I mean, look what happened last time?” The words bitter in my mouth. The incident... I can never get over the incident.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say, Ally.... I’m going to give up my Grammy performance. Instead, I want to take you to your dad’s wedding in Miami.” You make your doe eyes at me, your lips half curled upwards. My heart began to melt.

“Austin, that’s so sweet...” I began, only to realise it’s too late. “But we’d never make it in time.”

“You’re forgetting something, Ally – timezones. It’s Friday in Miami right now, and that means-“ I cut you off.

“We can make it!” The kitchen blurs into the back of my mind, my thoughts accelerating with a combination of elated ecstasy and hope. “But do you really want to give up the Grammies for me? It was a huge deal to be selected to perform, and your label won’t be happy.” I weigh the consequences both orally and mentally. I wanted you to be happy too, Austin.

“Ally, for you, I’d do anything. Now hurry up and get a dress for Amelia, we have a wedding to get to.”

I was surprised to be received warmly within Amelia’s mother’s boutique. I collected both Julia’s wedding dress, whilst I scanned the racks for something I could wear. My jeans, I don’t believe, would cut it for formal attire.

I enlisted the help of Trish to find an elegant frock to don for the ceremony. We had to be hasty though, so our decision was rather irrational. Amelia let me take my dress free of charge, it being sort of an apology. And what a beautiful apology it was.

The long sleeved dress flared out at the waist, and was cut just above knee height. The pinnacle of decorum, the sea foam fabric hugged my body and glistened like the water it mirrored. Trish tied my hair up into a graceful little bun, and I was ready to go.

“Time to meet Austin outside.” Trish grinned mischievously, directing me outside. I bid farewell to Amelia, whom had nothing more to say other than the pleasantries. Trish marched me out of the store entry, and took me directly to you in the square.

Your jaw dropped immediately when you saw me.

“Ally.. I- wow.” You were unable to articulate your thoughts. I took that as a comment.

“It’s time to go, kids!” The pilot enthused, hanging out of his spot behind the controls.

And so, I was met with the thing I hate the most – goodbyes. Due to the craft being so small, Dez and Trish couldn’t come with us. They were happy to wait it out in Porcelli, leaving almost an hour after we did.

It didn’t make the goodbyes any less painful, though.

“Keep in touch, Ally. I’ll be waiting for your call!” Trish laughed, coercing me into a hug. Dez piled on top of us.

“We’ll miss you!” Dez offered sweetly.

“Don’t say ‘us’ like we’re an ‘us’!” Trish chastised, slapping Dez across the wrist.

My heart was bubbling with nostalgia.

With a few more curt proclamations, I took your hand as you pulled me into the helicopter beside you. Our bodies pressed against each other within such a small space, we waved goodbye to our friends as the helicopter took flight.

We were finally going home.

“Where I’ve gone, where I’ve left....” I begin, scribing each lyric down from my head onto the paper.

After about an hour interchange, we were both on a private jet you were supposed to take in the first place. With a notepad and a pen in hand, I was helping you concoct an original song as a gift for my dad at his wedding.

For old time’s sake.

“Wow, that’s really good...” You contemplated, scribing down notes and tunes of your own.

All you could see out the narrow windows of the jet were the clouds. I felt at home in them. I could fathom any cloud I wanted into something beautiful and spectacular. It’s also what I do with words, and it seems you’d picked up a few tricks of your own.

We were on fire.

“And the melody should go like this,” you demonstrated, plucking various guitar strings.

I couldn’t help but feel delight whilst writing music with you. It felt so right, not just because I missed you. There was something about our musical endeavours that just seemed to be so tranquil. It’s like we were destined to write music with each other.

I’ve missed this.

“How long until landing?” I yawned, rubbing my eyes.

“We’ve got a few more hours left, Alls.”

I took advantage of the free packet of nuts we were offered. You eyed me copiously, but I just nibble away at the salted treat. So much better than business class.

“I really want you to sing this song with me.” You announced. I spat out my nuts.

“WHHAAAT??” I cried, distraught.

“Think about it, Ally. Do you know how much this would mean to your dad? This would be the perfect present!” Your smile is giddy, as you vibrate in your chair.

“You’re forgetting something, Austin.”

“What?”

“My crippling stage fright.”

You hadn’t foreseen this little clinch in your plans. As the clouds grey, and our eyes flitter, we buckle in for the long night ahead.

“Ally!! WAKE UP!” You shouted into my ear, causing me to scream in fear.

“AAAaaaAAAAaaaaAAaAaAAaHhhH!”

“We’re landing!” You began to cheer, as the small jet landed on a field.

“Where are we?”

“Your wedding is over there.” You pointed to a small building outside your window, where clamours of people had gathered.

“Oh my goodness, we have to go!”

And with that, we did. As soon as the pilot allowed us, we raced off of the plane and hit the ground running. The smooth Miami air was a refreshing memory, rejuvenating my racing mind as you and I ran towards the marina pier, where my dad was about to wed.

“Hurry up, goat legs!” You shouted in the heat of the moment, as I began to fall a little behind.

“Shut up, Moon!”

The playful banter was an expense I couldn’t pay. I was surprised how unfit I was. The building was at least a mile away, and time was against us. I honestly doubted you in that moment, watching your hair blowing back with the breeze.

But then a miracle happened – we made it.

In one (very unfit) piece.

I clamoured through the doors of the site, entering into the foyer, viewing each immaculate ribbon or aromatic flower. My dress was a little creased from the flight, but my spirits were at an all time high. I had more energy than deemed possible for a girl that only got about two hours sleep.

I slipped through the hall and found myself in the dining area – where the party will be held after the ceremony. You clung to my side like a koala, and I was grateful for your presence. You actually made me feel strong, surprisingly.

“Julia?” I called out in a sing-song voice, observing all the butlers hurrying to prepare the room for the reception later.

A shriek was heard from a narrow hallway.

“Ally!” Julia screamed, racing down the hall. She was fitted into a very poorly fitted gown, her eyes red. Once seeing me though, she raced towards me like I was a mirage in the desert.

Julia stops short when she sees you at my side. I never did, but I’m assuming that my father told her about what you did to me. Which is fair enough you know, seeing as it was always your right to tell your fiancé that her new step-daughter used to date a world famous superstar.

Julia got over the initial shock of seeing you and focused back on me instead. “Oh my goodness Ally!” She cried, wrapping her arms so tightly around my petite frame, I could barely breathe.

“I...I got your dress.” I pushed the dress towards my father’s partner as she held her hand over her mouth in blatant shock.

“Darling, what happened?” It was like she was actually my mom in that moment. Not that she was, she would never be my mom. But at least, I could be comforted to know that she was my step-mom. She actually cared about me, just as she cared about my father.

They were going to make a beautiful family.

“There... there was an accident. I’m okay now, but I couldn’t contact you and I’m so sor-“ I began to shout, my lines coming out as intangible sounds.

“Oh darling, go see your father in reception. I better get changed.” She smiled, racing off back down the hall.

“We better get inside the hall, the ceremony will probably start soon.” You offered up, guiding me back through the doors we entered from, and walking into the ceremony.

We pried the doors open, as everyone in their chairs turned to the sound. The hall was decorated with such finesse and beauty, I was so proud of my father for shelling out a few coins. Speaking of which, he stood at the altar, a pastor situated behind him. At least two hundred people were in attendance, sitting within their pews, and all their faces were now pointed towards me. The piano player even stopped playing music, intensifying an already daunting situation.

“You can do this, Ally.” You breathed into my ear, wrapping your hand around mine. I nuzzled into your body, as we walked down the aisle in the most awkward shuffle to ever eventuate.

The piano man begins to play again as attention is driven away from us. My seat was reserved near the top of the hall, right next to my father. As we amble off to take our seats, my dad’s eyes meet mine.

And he begins to cry.

“Ally!” He raced towards me, encasing me in a hug. “Oh honey, I thought we’d lost you!”

The audience responds with a collective ‘awh’, and you take your seat in the front. Your smile is wide and genuine, as you completely understand what I’m going through.

I felt safe in my dad’s arms.

And so the ceremony proceeds without a hitch (aha, get it? Becaused hitched means to get married but ‘without a hitch’ means no troub- oh, never mind.)

The ceremony seemed to go for a long time. Julia looked absolutely stunning in her Porcelli gown. I clung to my father after he kissed the bride, and we were all sent to reception. I spotted you in the streams of people that made a beeline to the reception.

Much chatter was had between all the guests, mainly that of the newly wed couple quizzing me to my misadventures that brought me here in such haste and with my old pop star mate.

I didn’t want to take emphasis of their wedding, so I just said what needed to be said at the time. I just wanted their time to be happy. (I made sure to avoid that little ‘bridge falling’ detail.)

As I went to stuff some of the pastries from the kitchen into my mouth, you tugged at my dress.

“It’s time to perform.” You announced, blasé.

My heart hammered within my chest. I followed you up to the stage where the band was playing. Anxiety ate at me as I tread closer and closer to that microphone. I could feel eyes boring into my flesh.

Can I do this?

“You’ve got this Ally... you’re ready.” You coax, your arm wrapped warmly around mine. You gently place the microphone in my hand, as I quake with imminent fear.

I think I can do this.

I pressed the microphone to my lips, your hands gliding across the strings of the guitar. It’s beginning, I thought.

A crowd began to gather around the stage, the lyrics seconds from rolling off your tongue.

I can do this.

“Where I’ve gone, where I’ve left,

None of it made any sense,

But then I met you.

I met you.

The times were tough, the tides were high,

My bags were packed, had an alibi

But now I know

You’re where I go-ooooo

Pat pat pat, my feet on the ground,

Navigating to find my wayyy-ayyy

Back to you.

I’ll always find my way back to you..

Oh oh oh oh, oh ohoh

Back to you

Oh oh, ohoh

No matter how lost – no matter how long fought

I’ll find my way... back to you.

The trees would burn, the stars on fire,

My heart is aching for one desire –

That one true thing.

Just one thingggg...

I hiked those mountains, scaled the isles

All that time, I’ve been waiting a while

To see youuu

It’s forever youuuu

Pat pat pat, my feet on the ground,

Navigating to find my wayyy-ayyy

Back to you.

I’ll always find my way back to you..

Oh oh oh oh, oh ohoh

Back to you

Oh oh, ohoh

No matter how lost – no matter how long fought

I’ll find my way... back to you.

It wasn’t a compass, it wasn’t a map

Times may changed but I still know that

I need you.

I need you now, I need you now

Don’t try to run away from me,

Because you and I are destiny

We don’t have much, we don’t have much at all

But the two of us is more than enough...

Pat pat pat, my feet on the ground,

Navigating to find my wayyy-ayyy

Back to you.

I’ll always find my way back to you..

Oh oh oh oh, oh ohoh

Back to you

Oh oh, ohoh

No matter how lost – no matter how long fought

I’ll find my way... back to you.”

I conquered my stage fright. I did it.

So much so, I found the courage to do the traditional father-daughter dance in front of a room full of people.

“Wow Ally, your dancing has gotten much better.” My dad laughed, lifting me across the floor.

“Thanks dad.” We smiled as we made circles around the dance floor. The lights were shimmering, and the warm breeze perfectly encompassed all I love about Miami.

We dance for the rest of the song, before my dad stared intently over my shoulder.

“Uh, Ally? I think you have a friend who wants to talk to you.”

“Huh?” I step away from my dad, to see you grinning besides the buffet table. You looked eager to see me, and I look to my dad for permission.

“Go honey, have fun.” He smirks, motioning me towards you.

I follow his orders.

I glide across the dance floor, and lean against one of the pillars you were situated near. My cheeks were primrose, my breathing uncontrollable. I was so exhausted.

“Hey Ally, can I... talk to you for a minute?” You prompted conspicuously, nerves shaping your eyes.

“Yeah, sure.” I nod, as you led me through an archway to the pier adjacent to the marquee.

The moon was painted high in the sky, reflecting the rays onto the sapphire ocean. The pier stretched out, and we found ourselves walking towards the end of it, our hands quivering when they accidently bumped.

You stopped me just at the edge of the pier, the wedding just a distance hum in the distance. You looked so content, so peaceful – I had almost forgotten that you were missing the Grammys to be here.

With me.

“Ally, you know... you know that tonight is one of the best nights of my life, right?” You laughed, your eyes sparkling with sincerity.

“Why?” I questioned, my face screwed up.

“I’ve been dreaming of this moment, finally being able to see you again. You know, the real you. And you don’t hate me, which is always a plus.” You ran your hands through your shaggy blond hair, the hazel of your eyes glowing in the moonlight.

Then... you leaned in. Our faces drew closer, a magnetic force pulling us together. Our eyes began to flutter as our lips neared each other...

But then I remembered.

I remembered everything.

It wasn’t unusual for me to work late at Sonic Boom. My dad was out to dinner with some friends, and I was all alone. The number of customers dwindled, as I waited hesitantly behind the counter.

I was waiting for you to charge into the building.

“How much are these?” Someone asked from behind, holding up a trumpet.

“Two hundred dollars.” I offered, and nodding with approval.

I turned around to find you in my face.

“What are you doing?!” You shouted, startling everyone in the room – including me.

“Austin, what are you doing?” I panicked, watching your eyes livid with anger.

You grovelled with such intensity, I took a step back. Dez and Trish gingerly trotted in behind you, as a few customers scurried out of the store.

“I know that it was you, Ally. Give it up already!” You threw your hands up in disgust, pacing back and forth.

“Okay, what is going on?” Trish asked, bewildered. Dez looked like he was about to cry.

“I know that it was Ally,” you seethed “that lied to that magazine about my song writing. You told them that I’d stolen your song, and all my credit was due to you. Everyone hates me now!” You screamed, slamming your fist into the counter.

“Austin...” I tried to reason, but it was too late.

You were too far gone.

“See that?” You shouted, racing to the door. “That over there is a car, with all my stuff. I’m out of here. Tonight.”

“Austin, you shouldn’t be driving like this.” Dez consoled, his expression grieved.

“No, I don’t care anymore. I can’t live a lie. Ally – your songs are pathetic. Your dancing is terrible. You are not beautiful, you’re not special... you’re just like everyone else! You’re milking any attempt of money while you can because you know that you’d have no career without me.”

My entire body burned, tears falling down my face. My throat was thick with what felt like cotton – no words could escape, nor could any breaths be taken.

“I’m just... I’m done!” You bellowed, shaking the entire building to its’ foundation.

You ran out the door, your hand covering your eyes.

Trish and Dez stared, mouths agape, as I succumbed to a pile on the floor. Not because the love of my life left me, or accused me of such awful things –

They weren’t true. And you didn’t believe me.

What we didn’t know at the time was a small camera phone pointed in our direction. The video of your meltdown went viral. You have a tendency to do that.

But all those lies you strewed through your teeth were broadcasted to the world. Everyone thought I was a fake. Everyone ridiculed me, pointed and taunted whenever I passed by.

You killed me.

Your lips hovered above mine, as tears sprung in my eyes. I cringed, as I placed my hands on your chest, and pushed you away.

You looked at me, a confused expression on your face, as the tears really began to roll.

“Austin, I can’t do this.” I said, my voice thick.

“What?” Your eyes were the size of saucers, and your voice was broken.

I gripped the sleeves of my dress for stability. I looked out to the ocean, trying my best to hide the tears. Well, I couldn’t then – I was sobbing.

“Ally,” you whispered, as I interjected.

“No, stop. Don’t say anything.” My voice was harrowed.

“But I-“ You tried to continue, but I cut you off.

“I can’t do this!” I shout through the tears, my hand planted across my lips.

I turned around. I began to walk away.

But you grabbed my hand and twirled me around.

“You can’t leave... Ally, I... I love you.” You choked, as you erupted into tears.

I’ll never forget your expression. It was so... broken. Your lips quivered, your eyes were red, and the tears drew lines down your face. Your shoulders were slumped in a sign of defeat, as you inhaled deeply.

“The truth is Austin, I don’t. I can’t. I am sorry.” I murmured, my voice catching.

I walked away.

But you didn’t try to catch me.

That was the last time I saw you, Austin Moon. Four months it’s been, since I spoke to you those words. That’s why I have written you these letters – to tell you how much you hurt me. It makes me feel better to know that you know the truth.

But there’s one thing I have to admit – I lied to you, too.

On that pier, as the zephyr breeze soaked into our skin, I told you that I couldn’t, nor did I, love you.

I lied.

Because I was so desperately in love you. Every dream, there you were. Even in my nightmares, which were normally about losing you. I hated myself for lying, but there was no way I could live with myself if I allowed you back into my life.

Because I’m broken, okay? You deserve a girl who can love you whole-heartedly, no reservation. That’s not me. I’m constantly a shadow, always embodying the shy, insecure girl I once was.

And I’m so sorry for everything.

This is hard enough for me as it is, Austin. I could insert lots of emotional, heartfelt garbage if I wanted to. I don’t want to. I don’t want to make this harder on either of us than I have to.

You see Austin, it wasn’t just my intervention and me leaving you that upset me (which it did). I just – I wanted you to chase me, to convince me that no matter what happens, we were worth it.

But you never did.

So I guess... this is goodbye.

Love, Ally”

Rows of records became my focal point. Classic records remained sealed and unspin in the sleeves which had been their home for longer than possibly imagined. Dust had been collected on the main utilities, even the lights.

The pelts of snow falling outside the record store were no comparison to the storm stirring up inside me.

“Oh... oh my gosh... Ally..” It was a macabre sight to see Megan at a loss for words. She stumbled and stuttered, hey eyes trained on me with a frozen dismay.

I wipe the tear away from my eye, as I fold the letter. Megan is soundless. Her expression too is harrowed by my story, and her microphone shakes to prove it.

This is as close as Megan Simms has ever been to silent.

“Oh...my...goodness... tell me there’s another letter. Tell me there’s more!” Megan pleaded, her eyes watering.

“Uh, no, that’s it.” I comment grimly, my expression pained.

The tech guy (Jeff) wailed into a handkerchief, one of the other works patting his back in support.

Thousands of comments flood in onto the comment section of the podcast, all condolences. Lengths varied, but even from a distance I can ascertain the heartfelt impact these letters have.

In Hollywood, not many people are used to the sob stories. Sure, you get them every once and a while, but mostly you hear of the scandals, the problems, just the outright deplorable example some celebrities set. Austin, being as famous as he is, is world renown. This story means so much to people because his face, always plastered to the media, has never seen a scathe.

The world doesn’t know how to react when they find out their role models are actually real people too.

Megan is within a deep contemplation, her eyes situated to a tile on the floor. With a sudden snap of her fingers, she is reborn and brought back to life. Although rimmed in red, Megan carries on as if nothing is wrong.

“I just... thankyou so much for sharing with us today, Ally. That was no doubt really hard to read to us.” Megan has her lips pursued with concern, and I feebly return her comment with a mere nod.

Silence once again leaves us within its rapture. Our faces allude to a troubling thought we want to allude to, but Megan stops before either of us can vocalise it.

“This is Megan from Cheetah Beat – and thanks for watching.”

The laptop records each moment, each heartbeat, of the podcast. With Megan’s sign off, she gestures to Jeff, who takes the cue. His hand inches in to the screen, where I am caught staring at myself in the reflection. I’m not smiling. I’m nowhere within the realm of happy. I just stare at the girl who has become a stranger to me, and marvel at the fact that she is still sitting there.

The computer goes black just as another tear rolls in succession down my face.

Time passed in a blur after that. I loitered in that record store for a little while, listening to Megan talk about her boyfriend, Nelson. I scoped out the records in the store, looking to see if any pique my interest. None really do.

So with quick goodbyes and emotions I refused to feel, I left the eclectic backdrop.

It felt like a lifetime had been spent in that store.

So now I wander the streets of Manhattan, the snow falling in unrelenting coatings to the ground. Vicious in their descent, I shiver as I hug my coat tighter and tighter to my frame.

The steps I take are harsh, as i trudge through layers of white powder. Snowflakes make home in my hair, as I try to shake them off.

With the moon plastered in the sky, i come to realise that now t=part of my soul has been released. I had encapsulated a lot of me in those letters, and now, they were gone.

I was no longer going to be howling under a paper moon, lamenting the singer Moon I’d doubtfully ever see again. My letters were no longer my stars, the only thing I thought of.

Instead of ease, I get the arctic wind, abandoned Manhattan streets and a flickering lamppost, protruding a light that Austin should be standing under.

“Miss Dawson!”

My legs pumped as I raced out the door of my apartment building. My alarm hadn’t gone off, so I was bound to be late.

It’s like I never took a time management class in high school.

“Miss Dawson!” That same voice shrieked, as I audibly groan and reclimb the front steps I had just raced down.

“Take the package!” My mailman orders, shoving a parcel into my hands.

I don’t recall ordering anything?

“Uh, thanks?” I offered up awkwardly, turning with such audacity that my hair slaps him in the face.

“Sorry!” I shout from the footpath, racing down it.

I was late, you see.

I was off to Miami to see dad. Being Christmas and all, I was back home to see him and Julia. Originally I was supposed to leave for my travels later this week, Thursday, but reading aloud to Cheetah Beat a few days ago really rattled me. I need my family.

I was running to the train station as fast as my legs would carry me. Fortunately, the train stations riddling New York meant accessing transport was easier than it was to spot a taxi on the streets.

Taking the metro straight for the train station, I boarded the train accordingly.

I had a long train ride ahead of me.

I had an entire train ride to kill before I was in Miami.

The carriages were like small capsules, the decor minimal and the comfort found elsewhere. Not many people were on the trains however, which is one thing I had to be grateful for. The almost inaudible hum of the train gliding across the tracks could be heard.

In my view, I could see an elderly couple towards the top of the carriage. Behind them is a young family, with two toddlers.

A tattooed man with an iPod sat a few seats away from me.

This definitely wasn’t peak hour traffic.

Fiddling with my suitcase, I pondered what I could do for most of my travel. I could read the novel I brought, or perhaps take a nap.

It hadn’t occurred to me that I had no clue what the package was.

After I made myself very comfortable in my stall on the train, the luscious countryside screened outside my window, I pulled the peculiar package from my bag and eyed it suspiciously. What on earth could it be?

The package itself was a padded sleeve, filled with what I assumed was paper. It was very safe, making me wonder what paper would be so important that it had to be wrapped in bubble wrap.

Oh no, what if I had been summoned to court for some mysterious reason?

I don’t know. But when I stripped the package of its’ sticky tape, what I found within was the last thing I was expecting.

They were letters. A least two dozen of them, from what I could tell. All the messages were scribed across notepad paper, besides one. It was printed onto a card. Instinctively, I took that one first, bubbling with curiosity.

My stomach flipped when my eyes glued themselves to the words.

Dear my Ally,

It’s me.... Austin. I hope you don’t find my ownership of your name too offensive. I didn’t mean it that way. Anyway, this letter... I’ve wanted to talk to you the second you left me at the wedding. Whenever I carry a tune, or play a chord on my guitar, you were on my mind. Oh man, who am I kidding; you are on my mind all the time.

I can’t pass the supermarket and seeing those ridiculous pickle baskets without my heart burning for you.

I saw the podcast. You know, with you and Megan. Ally, you looked amazing. And your letter... well, the fact you shared that with the entire world was the reason I gained enough courage to write back to you.

In this parcel, you’ll find, like, 25 letters. I don’t know why I sent half of them, they aren’t really relevant to anything. Some of these letters date back to the first fight we had, when I left Miami... I harboured a lot of emotions then, a lot of them. So they’re all quite intense, in case you’re wondering.

Ally, there’s something you have to know. I got what you were saying – about us. I know you probably won’t develop feelings for me again, and that’s okay. I can accept that, with time. But what I need in my life Ally isn’t a girlfriend. I need you. You’re my best friend, and even though I love you, I am willing to push those feelings aside for you.

Ally Dawson, I need you in my life.

It’s a bleak, terrible world without you in it. The sun doesn’t shine as bright, the birds no longer chirp as loudly, and no stars dance through the sky like they used to.

I don’t care that you don’t have romantic feelings for me like that. (Well, I do, but that’s beside the point). What I’m proposing is... I want to reband Team Austin. That includes you. We can write music together again, and you can receive recognition for your beautiful voice.

Of course, I can’t make you do anything. But I really hope you consider this offer.

You’re probably thinking ‘wow how did Austin send me these letters’. Your father told me your address when I called him the other day.

Anyway, enjoy all these little glimpses into my eyes, Ally. You can see how much I love you.

I really hope we can see each other again.

Austin xx My heart stops beating. I flick through all the other letters, my eyes watering more and more with each. ‘I can’t get you out of my head’ one letter said, and ‘your beauty is like an anchor. You’re what kept me levelled when I first got recognised as a singer’ was another one.

All of these messages were heartbreaking.

Time seemed to stop after I read those letters. I read them, and reread them, an absorbed them like a sponge would water. Again and again, the words would echo in my head, and my throat became thick with emotion.

I couldn’t help but be in love with Austin Monica Moon.

The train continued to sway, but my emotions never fade. It was always going to be him, wasn’t it? No matter what I do, his heart will be within mine. Can I ever tell him? Can I let him know?

Or will my reserve keep us from being together?

I let these questions plague me. The passage of time seems nothing in comparison. Because, what do you know, we’re here.

We’re at the Miami train terminal.

I don’t know what to expect. All I know is that my hair is swept up into a braid that falls to one side of my head. My coat, seemingly unnecessary for a Miami winter, sits snugly around my body.

I take my crimson suitcase and drag it out of the train and onto the platform.

Flurries of people hurry to meet their loved ones for the Christmas holidays. People were absolutely everywhere, clinging to those they know, showing publically their affection.

I try to push past the entangled partners or the inhibited friends, albeit I have next to no luck. The terminal is ordained with classic metal work that spirals throughout the entire complex. Even the most simple things within the terminal are made with wrought iron, thus, are also beautiful. I keep my eyes scanning the crowd, trying to pinpoint the one of my father.

I find myself in the thickest offset of the crowd. Right in the middle of it, I cannot see my way out either left or right. Everywhere I look, it’s just people. I find it hard to breathe, as people callously brush past me.

I miss the train.

I miss the euphoria of reading those letters.

I miss Austin.

I just want to be free again.

“Hey, move it!” An older guy shouts at me angrily, as I try to make my way through the bustling crowd.

I conserve my oxygen and say nothing.

So this is it, the end of my story. I can’t say I had a happy ending. I mean, how many of us do? I wait hesitantly for my father to reveal his face, to take me in his arms and order me home, but I can’t find him.

This is going to be a problem.

Still, I was crammed within the movement of hundreds of people. I couldn’t differentiate a single person brushing past me, it all looked the same.

Until the crowd dissipated.

If almost by miracle, they made a path. The people thinned out, and finally found the places they were supposed to be. I was thankful for that, seeing as now I actually hard room to breathe.

That is, until I had the breath knocked out of me.

Because Austin Moon is standing in front of me.

His eyes glimmered when they connected with mine. He wore a casual yet very innocent smirk. His hands were in his pockets. He was here. He was here.

I couldn’t describe anything near delicate enough to describe what was running through my mind at that precise moment. The smug looking boy just grinned at me from afar, leaving me to do the only sane thing – race into his arms.

His arms welcomed me openly.

Swept up within his warm embrace, our noses touched as he lifted me up high. Our lips hovered, my mouth twirled upwards in an irreversible smile. Austin never looked so happy, whilst my heart threatened to beat out of my chest.

And when all the worlds finally spun into place, I thought back to the questions he’d asked me in the letters.

“Yes,” I whispered into his ear, wrapping my arms around him as hard as I could. This it, I said it. I was going to be his partner again.

“Forever.”

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I made myself cry a little there. Did you guys cry? :P But oh my goodness, it's over - this story is over. Thank you all so much for supporting me throughout this journey, and I hope this ending was good!

What did you like about it?

Oh god, I thought 4000 words was long for my previous chapters. That one was a massive 7500. I hope you guys liked it though!!

Now, I know I'm not going to win this competition. And you know what? That's okay. I worked hard on this story, and hopefully this is something you guys enjoyed reading. All I want from you is to hear from you guys. If this story was boring, let me know. If this story reminded you of something, let me know. If this story made you feel things, let me know! My favourite thing in the world is to hear how my story impacts people (if at all) so talking to you guys is my favourite part about this whole process! So please, leave a comment, and tell me how you feel! :D

This is my final chapter.. I can't get over that.

Before I go, I just want to talk about the talent I've discovered in these stories. Some of these stories were written at a professional standard, and all of them were beautiful in their own special way. It pains me to know some of them didn't make it all the way, and I hope they can continue them regardless! I know my story's not that great, but the other talents I've seen in this contest is just mind blowing.

I'm so proud to every person who voted, who wrote a comment or posted a story. You've all worked so hard for this competition, and I'm so grateful to be part of it!

i hope to see you guys letting me know how you feel in the comments.

And guys - thank you so much for this incredible experience. I love you all. <3

P.S. - I've written another fanfiction. Not on the wiki, though. So, if any of you are interested, feel free to check it out - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10029243/1/Counting-The-Stars

I actually stopped writing it because no one else was reading it, I was swept up in school and such. But if enough of you want me to continue this other story, I'd be happy to oblige!

Just let me know below! :D