The Switch: An Allstar Weekend Fanfic

Epilogue Pt. 1 - Cameron

A/N I finished the first part of my three-part epilogue. This is Cameron's POV. And my god, I LOVED writing this. We're switching into first-person now, so don't be freaked out. And please, please, PLEASE listen to the two songs used in this part while you read the story. Not after. During. It makes it so much better and beautiful and everything and ugh, I hurt.

Breathe, in, out, in, out. Breathe, in, out, in, out.

I repeated the mantra to myself as I jogged. In and out. Don’t think. Just keep breathing. I turned right, almost home to my vacant apartment. My Pumped Up Jams playlist on my iPod kept my steps on track, but I wasn’t really listening. It was too early to get excited about the day. The sun hadn’t even broken over the horizon yet.

I woke up two hours ago and couldn’t go back to sleep. My mind wouldn’t shut off, just like all the other nights this week. The way it hasn’t been able to since I looked at the date a few days ago.

In and out. Don’t think.

I pushed myself harder, wanting to feel the burn all over. I don’t think I could ever take that feeling for granted again. I reserved a satisfied smile for the end of every run now. It just felt amazing to run in my own body again. Sure, it’d been nearly a year since I’ve been back, but sometimes I just wanted to revel in it.

My speed faltered for a second as I remembered jogging in Zach’s body for the first time with her. Dammit, this is why I wanted to get out of the house. So I wouldn’t think of her.

But who am I kidding? Thinking about Abby occupied too much of my time no matter what I did. Especially now that the anniversary of her leaving is tomorrow. I made it to the door of my apartment and turned the key in the lock. Tossing my iPod on the couch and stripping out of my clothes as I made my way to the bathroom, I tried to be reasonable. I tried to tell myself the same things I’d been saying all year:

Abby was not ever coming back. Ever. She was never going to speak to me again, even if I had a way to get ahold of her. That was obvious from the day she changed her phone number. She moved away to get rid of me, and I just need to get over her.

The thoughts were not the least bit comforting, and they only made me feel worse. But at the same time I knew I needed to be realistic. Would I be any happier if I thought she wanted to talk to me? Of course not. I would just be lying to myself then.

I got into the shower and sang a few songs off of our new album. After the tour last year Zach had gone into crazy-songwriting-mode and completely flipped our style. When the rest of the band heard his stuff, we couldn’t quite believe our ears. We learned the new songs and played them for Steph. She said we didn’t even sound like Allstar Weekend anymore. We had a lot of late-night talks about how we should approach the new sound. In the end we settled on giving the band up for a hiatus. It was hard, but our fans took it even harder.

It was worse when we announced that we were quitting Allstar Weekend all together. We still haven’t told anyone our new name yet. We still haven’t found a new keyboardist yet either. Dillon left to pursue other things. I didn’t blame him; he was a cool guy who just needed a change of scenery. I could understand that. I mean that was the reason I moved out of Zach’s parent’s house a couple months ago.

Dammit, there I go again thinking about those times. Why can’t I just get her out of my head? I needed a serious distraction.

I got out of the shower fifteen minutes later and heard noises coming from my kitchen. One of the guys was here eating my food again. I quickly towel-dried and wrapped it around my waist. Walking around the corner I saw, to my delight, Zach sitting at the counter and Michael’s butt sticking out of the refrigerator.