La Serenissima

Grand Gesture

New York City. September

Phone calls, Skype dates and texts were not the real thing. After missing Ally in Miami in July, Austin was back on a plane to Los Angeles and then to London and then to Paris and back to Los Angeles once more before here. New York City. The same city she worked and lived in; and yet, he hadn't raced across town and banged down her door to see the moment he got there. Why? Because their last phone call was not the best. In fact, if was kind of the worst.

It was them going back and forth with each other, trying to get together somewhere. Anywhere, really. He told her to take a few days off, she told him the same. The moment they made plans, they were always cancelled and mostly by him. It wasn't entirely his fault, it was his label's. He did have an album to promote though and he thought she understood that. This last argument was heated and loud and he was thankful that he had been in a soundproof booth inside the studio so no one else could hear the words they were saying to each other. He never wanted to say those things. Not to her. Not ever.

The separation was getting to them and they were arguing more than talking. At first it was just the little things - the joking fights about how pancakes were still better than French Toast and how pizza with pineapples was something that she loved, while he hated. Those were the fights he was okay with because it ended with him always kissing his phone, pretending she was right next to him. But these fights were bigger, more than just their flirty fights. He wanted her to come to him for a weekend, she wanted him to come to her. It was the distance and not seeing each other for almost seven months now. It was getting to him and he knew it was getting to her.

Wishing away the light throbbing in his temple, Austin leaned back in the chair in his dressing room and tried to concentrate on his performance coming up, all while listening to his manager who, even at five a.m. in the morning was on the phone and talking a mile a minute. Scott was a good manager - so good in fact, that he hadn't needed an actual publicist in years. At the moment, he was on the phone with someone in London, re-confirming a promo event for next week that had had to be rescheduled.

In just a few hours, he'd be in Central Park and playing his next single on a grand piano and he wanted to do it; he was contractually obligated to do it, but he also wanted to sprint across town to the Italian Consulate. He'd be pulling out all the stops for a cliche movie scene. He'd speak the Italian he knew, go to every floor on the building and call out her name like he was dying and when he would find her, Austin would do as every movie hunk does, and sweep Ally up into his arms and kiss her on the spot, not caring who was watching or their reactions. He'd twirl her around and kidnap her away from her job for the next month, if he had his way.

"How much time do I have between this and London, Scott?" Austin asked, interrupting Scott's current phone call with his eyes still closed. 

"Six days," he quickly answered. "Don't get any ideas."Austin slipped open one eye and smirked at him.

"When you gonna learn man? I have a lot of ideas."And this idea, was a good one. He just hoped it would work.

Reaching for his phone that was on the counter top beside him, Austin clicked on Ally's name and let out a huff as he glanced at the last text she sent him. He was ignoring it for a reason and wasn't going to acknowledge he even got it. Breaking up with her was not an option. Ever. 

Watch Good Morning America today. 

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"I have my keys, purse, heels," Ally double checked her bag one more time and ran her hand through her hair once more. She was in a frazzle this morning and running late and if she didn't run out the door now, she would not make her train and she would miss the meeting she had been working on for three weeks. It was the meeting she needed to be there for because no one else knew what said meeting was about or why they were even having it.