Chapter 8

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I throw my jacket onto the bed, and kick my shoes off, falling onto the bed after my jacket. We didn't have to do anything tonight, but we have a show tomorrow, which means our manager didn't want us leaving the hotel.

Austin walks in, closing the door, and dropping the bags on the floor in a huff. He sits down on the chair across from the bed, and rubs his face, sighing heavily.

"You ok?", I ask, pushing myself up to a sitting position.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just...just thinking."

"About?"

I shift closer to the edge of the bed...closer to him.

He looks at his hands, and then rubs them against his leg. We stay silent for a few minutes before he decides to speak again.

"About us.", he whispers out.

My body stiffens, and I sit up straighter.

"Why are you thinking about...us?"

"Because I like you Alan, as I'm sure you already know, but it's not just some stupid crush. I like you. I have for a long time."

I laugh a little, "You make it sound like it's a band thing."

He doesn't say anything for a few moments.

"I don't want this.", he finally says.

"Want what?"

"This! I don't want to tear the band apart, and I don't want to tear myself apart, but I mostly don't want to tear you apart! I could never be the person you want me to be Alan."

"Austin, you're not going to tear me apart."

"Yes I will, and we're never going to work out. This just will never work."

"Austin, you haven't even tried. We haven't even tried! We just confessed our feelings for each other a few hours ago."

"I doubt you even really like me, Alan. You're just hung over Chris, and that's probably why you're taking grabs at whatever cares for you."

My mouth opens a little, and I can't believe he just said that. I've had feelings for Austin for such a long time, way before I ever started dating Chris, and even if I didn't, he still shouldn't have said that.

I stand up, grabbing my jacket, and slip it on. I'm walking towards the door when Austin's hand reaches out, grabbing my wrist. I flinch, shaking it off of me. I look at him and his face is filled with regret, and maybe if I wasn't so angry and hurt, I would fall over, and cuddle him right now. But I'm not going to.

"Alan, please. I didn't mean any of that. I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated, please."

I ignore him, and keep walking, slamming the door behind for extra effect.

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