The Distance That Ripped Us Apart

Something Ripped (Before)

"Ally, I need to tell you something."

...The moon loomed overhead, reflecting across the water. Ally turned to face the blonde from her comfortable spot on their picknet blanket. His thumb swiped quickly across her hand. "You, know someday I want to have a really big family. I always wished I'd had siblings." he announced absent-mindedly. Ally chuckled, sliding her position so that her had was resting in his lap.

 "Yeah, it would have been nice if I'd had a sibling. I wouldn't care if they were older, or if they were younger. I just hope someday my kid, or kids, will have someone to share their childhood with." she added groggily. They sat in companionable silence for what seemed like ages, neither wanting to break the suddenly quiet moment.

Finally, Austin pushed Ally off him lightly. She sat up, so as that her elbows dipped into the fabric on which they sat. "Everything okay? Please don't say it's the dress." she laughed, motioning to the glistening pink fabric. He shook his head thoroughly. 

His right hand trailed through his hair worriedly. "Ally, I've been keeping something from you."

"What, that your middle name was actually Monica?" she joked again. Until she saw his startlingly serious expression by the light of the moon.

"Ally, I need to tell you something." he begged in a whisper. "Please, please, don't hate me."

From behind his back, he pulled out the newspaper article she'd given him earlier. Not daring to meet his gaze, he murmered, "Look at the caption, Ally. Don't focus on the picture. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but the story is worth more than meets the eye."

He smile fell as her eyes scanned the words.

"Quote Austin Moon: 'It's been a joy having Dawson on the team, but she just isn't cut out for show buisness. It is my duty to inform the public that there will no longer be a spot for Ally Dawson on the record labels under my name. I have been informed to break all ties with her.'"

"S-so," she growled shakily, pushing the paper in his splotchy face, "I'm 'just not cut out for show buisness', huh? You know what, superstar? You aren't cut out to be my boyfriend. You aren't firing me. I quit."

And with that, she ran past him, leaving him without another word. Past the trees and bushes, leaving her perfect dress, and the love she thought she had, in shambles.