memories.

“Guys, Dakota and I have something important to tell you.” All the boys stop their happy chatter to give the couple their attention.

“We’re having a baby.” Four pairs of eyes go as wide as the size of the moon.

Dakota nervously rubs her collarbones, a nervous tic she had. “That’s uh,” Tino pauses, his adam’s apple moving up and down as he gulps air, “that’s great. Congrats!”

Shay rolls his eyes before crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back into the restaurant chair.

“Congrats? As if. That thing is going to ruin this band.” Alan stands up, pushing the chair away from the table.

“That’s enough. If you have a problem with me, fucking say it.”

“Oh no,” Shay scoffs, “I don’t have a problem with you. I have a problem with that bitch of a girl you have there.”

Phil pulls himself to his feet, getting between the two.

“Not here. Shay you’re being an ass. Stop it. Alan, sit down - you’re causing a scene.” Alan obliges, sitting and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, but Shay is just not willing to let it go.

“I’m not being an ass. I’m just telling it how I see it. Alan, for all you know she poked a hole in the condom.”

“You don’t know shit,” Dakota spits, tired of him discussing her like she isn’t there.

“Really? I know you haven’t exactly been eating a lot lately. That can’t be good for your precious baby. Speaking of which, those secret sips of Austin's whiskey can’t be the best for it either.”

“That is enough!” Austin roars, clenching his fists, not caring that the whole restaurant was staring.

“You either quit talking about her like she’s a fucking dog or you get out of the band! Fucking pick, you asshole!”

Austin seldom ever got angry, but when he did, it was like a summer thunderstorm. All smiles and sunshine one minute, and lighting and booming thunder the next.

Shay rolls his eyes and Austin storms out, flipping him off as he exits the silent restaurant.
///

“Hey, babe?” Alan asks hours later as they lay in his bunk, legs intertwined.

“Yes?” She nuzzles her freckled face into his neck.

“What did Shay mean when he said you weren’t eating as much?” Flashes of meticulously counting calories, measuring tapes, and leaning over a toilet with two fingers down her throat sprint through her mind.

“Nothing,” she answers, her voice even. “I don’t know what he was talking about.”

Lie.

Notes

short chapter. im sorry.