Earthquake / All Time Low One Shot
Authors Note: This was originally written some time ago for a competition on another blog - I went back to find it recently and as far as I can tell, that blog has now been deleted, which is why I’m reposting now.
Alex had tried his best to be on time for once, he really had, but the universe was conspiring against him.
The proof was all there - rehearsals for their upcoming tour had run on time every other day this week (a miracle in itself when you consider the four overgrown children pretending to be functioning adults who made up the band) but today, when Alex had promised his girlfriend he would be on time, they overran by seventeen minutes. Then he discovered that he’d accidentally left his car lights on all day and now had a flat battery - it took an extra twenty four minutes for Matt Flyzik, tour manager extraordinaire, to jump start the vehicle (and for anyone keeping count, that’s already forty one minutes later than Alex was meant to be). Then there was the traffic on the way home - having to sit still for an extra nineteen minutes on top of his usual journey only served to make Alex extra antsy (sixty whole minutes goddamn it, and he still had to shower & change & most likely spend an unnecessary amount of time explaining to his probably fuming girlfriend why he was so late because tonight was important, didn’t he realise that?!)
Y/N was sat on the sofa when Alex entered the house, already in the dress she had picked out for the night, hair and make-up all done & heels strapped around her feet, staring blankly at the TV…which was turned off. This did not bode well for Alex.
“Hi baby,” he smiled, deciding to go for the casual ‘what do you mean I’m late?’ approach.
It didn’t work.
“I just wanted to be on time for once,” she growled, glaring up at her boyfriend, “is that really too much to ask?”
“I tried, I really did, but the universe hates me,” Alex half explained, not wanting to get into the whole story while they were so short on time, “look, I’ll just grab a quick shower and then we can go. We’ll hardly be late at all!”
“But I wanted to do our announcement while everybody was sober,” she pouted.
Alex looked at her in amazement.
“Baby, this is the ATL crew you’re talking about - we would have had to gather everyone up at ten am to catch them all sober!”
His response caught her off guard, but she had known the whole crew for long enough to admit that he was almost definitely correct. A large percentage of their touring family had probably started drinking before lunch.
Alex took her silence as his chance, darting upstairs towards the safety of the bathroom, yelling something about being ‘ten minutes, tops. I swear down babe…’
Y/N didn’t know where he had picked up that stupid phrase, but she made a mental note to tell him never to use it again.