Rewrite the Stars
Summary: Austin is feeling homesick while filming Elvis and gets one hell of a birthday surprise!
Rating: General Audiences
Words: 3.6K (I swear this was meant to be a quick drabble, and yet here I am finishing this at almost five in the morning...oops?)
Warnings: Lots of pining from our boi here
Author's Note: This was written for @foreverdolly. I hope this fills the pining!Austin feels you were hoping for! Perhaps if this gets enough likes (and if school and work permits me), I’ll write a part two! A couple of minor details- I headcanoned Austin here as more of a serial dater rather than anything involving Vanessa. It felt more suitable, given the pining angle I’m going for. Also, I wrote this like COVID never happened because that is a reality I’m sure we’d all love to live in right now. Enjoy!
Austin knew that filming Elvis would be hard. One doesn’t go into a project about a beloved figure of American pop culture thinking it will be a walk in the park. Hell, the months-long audition process made that abundantly clear. But the most challenging part wasn’t the months and months of vocal training, singing lessons, costume fitting, or reading every possible book and watching every video about Elvis Aaron Presley he could get his hands on.
It was being away from his friends and family.
It was just him alone in an apartment halfway across the globe from the place and people he called home. It didn’t matter how many FaceTime calls he made with his sister Ashley or his childhood best friend Y/N or how many care packages they sent filled with his favorite snacks. Eventually, the calls ended, and the snacks were eaten.
His birthday was around the corner, although he was surprised he even registered that it was close. He texted Y/N to see if maybe you would be able to fly down for a quick visit. He even offered to pay for your plane ticket and introduce her to Baz, one of your favorite directors. That morning while he was in hair and makeup, you texted back, “Get me a spot on the soundtrack, and you got a deal!”
He snorted at the reference to the joke you made when he told you that he got the part…after screaming and crying out of excitement and happiness for him. You were the first person he wanted to tell when he got the news. You had been the one that encouraged him to go for the part in the first place. It had become a tradition between the two of you. Celebrating each other’s big moments. He remembered the day you told him about your record deal. He always believed you had the talent to follow your dreams. Growing up, you always wrote poetry and bits of songs, and the two of you constantly played guitar and piano in your room. It was one of the few spaces he felt comfortable enough to be himself. You never got frustrated with his shyness or anxiety, even agreeing to play in the dark to make him feel more comfortable. When you won your first Grammy, he was in the crowd, clapping until his hands ached.
Your subsequent text made his heart sink. “In all seriousness, I wish I could be there for your b-day. (Don’t think I forgot!) But I’m in the middle of recording my next album and my producer is a workhorse. I’m so sorry, Aus.”
“It’s okay,” he texted back. “It’s just 29. Should be done with filming before I turn 30 and we can do that one big!”
You sent back thumbs-up and blue heart emojis, and he tucked his phone into his pocket. There was a small lump in his throat. He closed his eyes for a moment. The last thing he wanted to do was cry over something so dumb. Because it was dumb! People didn’t stop living their lives back home just because he was in Australia. Jobs had to be done, bills had to be paid, and his feeling homesick like a little kid didn’t change that. His sister had sent back a similar response when he asked if she could come for a visit. He told her he understood and to not worry about him.
“Are you all right, Austin?”
He opened his eyes to his makeup artist Trisha looking at him in the mirror. She had a gift for reading his moods. Sometimes, he wished she wasn’t so accurate. He shrugged and mumbled, “Just got a disappointing text from home.”
“Sorry to hear that,” she said. She stayed silent for a moment, brushing more bronzer onto his face. “Want to talk about it?”
The lump in his throat hurt to talk around. “Not really.”
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The day before his birthday, Baz picked Austin up at his apartment. He had a coffee waiting and was listening to the usual Elvis Presley playlist. He had long stopped being surprised by the Australian director’s eccentric nature. What surprised him was Baz didn’t drive them directly to set. Austin looked at the older man and asked, “Where we goin’?”
Baz just shrugged as he flipped on the turn signal. “The airport.”
This confused Austin. He tried to mask this by joking, “Is this your way of telling me I’m fired?”
That prompted a laugh out of Baz. “Nothing of the sort. I’m just picking up a friend. Flying them in for a special cameo for the film. I thought you’d like to tag along.”
“I’m not needed on set?”
“That is the beauty of being the director,” Baz replied with a grin. “I determine where you’re needed.”
Austin picked up the coffee Baz bought him and took a sip. “That’s not ominous at all, Mr. Luhrman.”
The two of you spent the rest of the drive discussing work. What Baz had planned, any concerns Austin may have, and what could be done to fix them. He loved working with Baz. He was unlike any director Austin had worked with previously. The man had a vision but never let that stop him from treating his cast and crew respectfully. Austin’s time in Hollywood had shown him what a rare quality that was in a director.
Before they knew it, they had arrived at the Brisbane airport. Baz had been tight-lipped about who exactly they were coming to get. He was happy he took care of getting dressed this morning. The weather flipped down in the Southern Hemisphere, so he woke up to a cold snap that morning. He put on a navy cashmere sweater Ashley bought him before he left. The closer his birthday got, the more intense his homesickness felt.
Baz parked the car, and the two of them headed inside. They were stopped a couple of times by fans eager for a selfie or an autograph. Austin watched as a young woman told Baz how she was inspired by his work to go to film school. He gave her some words of wisdom and agreed to take a photo with her. It was touching to witness and a lesson on how to talk with fans. Finally, they arrived at the area where people waited for arrivals. Austin turned and asked, “Gonna let me in on who we’re meeting?”
Baz looked up from his phone and simply gestured in the distance. Austin turned to where Baz was pointing and thought his heart would stop. It was Ashley and Y/N! They were here in Australia! Austin turned back to Baz, who simply said, “Happy birthday, son.”
Austin wasted no time sprinting toward the two women. He pulled his big sister in for a hug first, squeezing her tight and saying through tears, “If this is a dream, I hope I never wake up.”
He felt Ashley rub his back. “This is very real, little brother. And you have Baz and Y/N to thank for all this.”
He pulled away from his sister to see you standing there. Your eyes were glassy with tears even as you joked, “Well if you weren’t going to get me on the soundtrack, I figured I had to do it myself.”
Austin choked out a laugh and picked you up, spinning you around and squeezing you tight. His nickname for you growing up was Tink because of your tiny frame and fiery temper. When he finally set you down, he looked down at you as you explained, “Me and Ashley have been worried about you lately. You seemed really blue. So, I did the L.A. thing: I had my people reach out to Baz’s people and ask if we couldn’t arrange a surprise for your birthday.”
By this point, Baz had joined all three of you. He clapped Austin on the back and said, “I know that the Method is all the rage in Hollywood, but I don’t see sense in tormenting yourself needlessly. We can put production on pause for a little bit. Spend some time with these beautiful women who love you very much.”
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That night, the three of you decided to stay at Ausitn’s place and order takeout later that evening. You were slightly more experienced with jetlag, but Ashley required a late afternoon nap. That gave the two of you time to catch up. Austin asked how work on your new album was going and just let your voice live and in person wash over him. You wore one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. Your hair was in a messy bun on top of your head, and your face was covered with one of those Korean skincare masks you loved. But to Austin, plain or dressed for a red carpet, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
He had always been a little in love with you. The timing never seemed to be on his side enough to make a move. As a teen, he was intimidated by your sudden rise to fame through MySpace. One day, you were posting songs you wrote, then suddenly, you had a record deal and were playing across the country. The last thing you needed was some awkward guy next to you whose biggest claim to fame was bit parts on iCarly and Hannah Montana.
As you both got older and started dating people, Austin figured maybe the two of you were meant to be just friends. He remembered watching a movie with that phrase as the title and the rant you went on after the movie ended.
“I swear to God,” you raged, “guys feel like just because they have feelings for a woman and treat her like a human being, that makes them entitled to sex with us! It’s disgusting! ‘Nice guys finish last’ is such misogynistic bullshit.”
You looked at him after finishing and squeezed his arm. “I’m so glad you’re not like that, Austin. You are rare among your gender.”
He never wanted to be that for you, either. He loved you as a person before he fell in love with you. The last thing he wanted was to be another creep trying to get into your pants. You had a long-term boyfriend, Trevor, who Austin could not stand. He was also a musician, and you met while on tour for your second album. It seemed like a match made in heaven. But Trevor had a nasty habit of comparing your careers, with his being more “legitimate” because he didn’t have to use the internet to become successful. It was a point he learned not to bring up around you or Austin unless he was ready for an argument to ensue.
“You know you’re going to have to introduce me to Tom Hanks,” you said, your eyes bright with excitement. “You know Forrest Gump is one of my favorite movies of all time. God knows how often I’ve watched Toy Story, Sleepless in Seattle, or You’ve Got Mail. I practically grew up with Tom Hanks!”
Austin grinned. “Ah, and so the true motivation for this trip emerges.”
“Oh, you were just a great bonus,” you teased as you removed your mask and massaged the excess product into your skin. “I’m here to see Woody.”
Austin laughed. Your presence melted away all of the angst he had been feeling lately. His whole body felt relaxed and at ease for the first time in months. At this moment, he didn’t have to worry about being ready for the set or rehearsing the same sequence for hours on end. He could just be Austin.
He reached out to squeeze your hand. You smiled and squeezed his back. His voice cracked as he whispered, “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” you replied.
You reached out to pull his head down and kissed his forehead. He couldn’t stop himself from encircling your wrist with his hand as you did. You pulled away slightly, and for a moment, you both breathed the same air. Your eyes connected. It could be so easy. He could just lean forward and do what he had been dreaming about for ages. He rubbed your inner wrist and found a racing pulse. You were so close. But…he wouldn’t do that to you. Austin knew how you felt about cheating, no matter how innocent the act was.
He was the first to break the moment. Clearing his throat, he pulled away and said, trying to force a laugh, “Don’t let Trevor hear you say that. How’s he doing, by the way? Still on tour?”
Something fell over your eyes at that moment. Before he could question it, you laughed harshly and said, “Yup, still touring. I think he’s still pissed because I told him I didn’t want his help on my next album. He’s been weird since I helped improve one of his singles by making it a duet. So now he’s needlessly looking for “improvements” in my work.”
Leave his sorry ass, Austin wanted to snap. You’re twice the songwriter he will ever be, and you deserve someone who recognizes true talent. The words were on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he said, “I’m sorry. Maybe it’s just a rough patch?”
“Yeah, maybe,” you replied. “But…they seem to be coming more frequently here lately.”
Scrubbing your face, you jumped up and said, “Bleh, enough about Trevor. Let’s see if Ashley has recovered enough so we can order something to eat. I’m starving!”
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People could never say that Baz Luhrmann was a subtle man. For Austin’s birthday the following evening, he rented a restaurant with an adjoining karaoke bar. This surprise party had been well-planned. Catherine even decorated the space and ensured the manager secured any recording devices from non-guests. When the trio arrived, Austin hugged Baz and Catherine and thanked them for such kindness and generosity. Ashley wore a dusty rose off-the-shoulder dress with an A-line skirt that looked gorgeous. You looked stunning in a black cocktail dress inspired by Breakfast at Tiffany’s, complete with an updo and tiara. When you finally emerged from Austin’s bedroom, he mumbled, “Hello, gorgeous.”
You winked and said, “Thanks, but wrong movie.”
There was the usual dinner and giving of gifts. Baz, Tom, and others gave speeches, praising Austin so much that by the end, he was a puddle of tears and emotion. At the end of the dinner, he couldn’t say more than, “Thank you for all over this. Making this movie and being here with all of you has been one of the best experiences of my life. I will carry it with me and treasure it always.”
Once the dinner concluded, the party moved to the karaoke bar. Baz and you, as Austin figured, got along like a house on fire. Both of you were music nerds and kept trying to outdo each other in karaoke performances. You won the night with a spirited rendition of Tina Turner’s Proud Mary that saw your heels kicked into the crowd, your updo wholly wrecked, and Olivia holding your tiara as she screamed and cheered. As you exited the stage, Baz stood and bowed, saying, “I know when I’m beaten. Now, what’s this about you wanting to be on the soundtrack?”
A few others took turns on the stage. Dacre, Luke, and Adam tried to sing together to Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl. Tom and Rita sang I Got You, Babe before bidding everyone good night. Olivia, Ashley, Catherine, and you giggled through Wannabe by the Spice Girls. After the song ended, Olivia, Ashley, and Catherine teetered their way back off stage, but you remained. Putting a hand on your hip, you said into the microphone, “Mr. Butler…you are the only one who has not sung this evening. It’s time we fixed that. Get your ass up here!”
Everyone began chanting Austin’s name until he shrugged off his jacket and tie and joined you on stage. You had a look on your face that seemed both nervous and excited. Ever the performer, you turned back to the crowd and said, “Now, D.J., before you start the song we spoke about earlier, I wanna tell everyone here a little story about Austin and me.”
“Oh Jesus,” Austin said loud enough that the mic picked him up.
“Hush you,” you smacked his shoulder. “Anywho, me and Austin have a favorite pastime back home of watching bad movies together. It’s kind of like Mystery Science Theater 3000, snarking comments and all. Well, one of our favorites to watch is The Greatest Showman.”
This prompted boos and shouts from the crowd, to which you replied, “I know, I know. The movie made over a billion, and Hugh Jackman is your national treasure.”
You paused to allow people to cheer for their man before continuing, “But as an American…the movie is ridiculous. P.T. Barnum was a dick who did not deserve the talents of Mr. Hugh Jackman! But that soundtrack fucking rules! There would be nights when Austin and I couldn’t sleep, and we would drive around L.A. screaming that soundtrack at the tops of our lungs!”
You finally turned back to Austin, and he felt butterflies in his stomach. You smiled at him as your voice softened. “So we’re going to sing you of those songs tonight. Apologies in advance to Zendaya and Zac. May you never see this.”
Oh, Jesus…it was that song. You motioned for him to come closer. The butterflies were now a hurricane. He was about to sing a love song in front of a crowd of people to the woman he wanted more than anything. What could possibly go wrong?
“You know I want you,” Austin began, his voice shaky with nerves. “It’s not a secret I try to hide. I know you want me. So don’t keep saying our hands tied.”
A few people cheered, sensing his nerves. He grinned, and as the verse progressed, he felt his confidence growing. The two of you had watched this movie so many times, you began doing a facsimile of the scene from the film on stage. You kept your eyes downcast, your body turned away from him, as if you were fighting against this as much as you wanted to give in. At last, you came together at the end of the chorus, Austin going so far as to put his hand around your waist and tuck your hair behind your ear as he sang, “So why don’t we rewrite the stars? Maybe the world could be ours tonight?”
You took the microphone from the stand and took a giant step back as the music continued. Austin could hear his heart pounding in his ears. The look in your eyes reminded him of the look from yesterday. You lifted the microphone and sang, “You think it’s easy? You think I don’t want to run to you? But there are mountains and there are doors that we can’t walk through.”
You began walking along the edge of the stage and gesturing to the crowd as you continued to sing. Austin followed you as he felt the desperation behind the song's words for the first time. As you sang the chorus to the audience, he led you back to the center of the stage. And what’s more, you let yourself be guided back. You placed the microphone as the chorus ended, and you both began belting the bridge.
“All I want is to fly with you! All I want is to fall with you! So just give me all of you…”
There seemed to be something in your voice as you sang of this being impossible. Was he making this up? Was it just the two of you committing to the bit, as it were? The edges started to blur for Austin. Were they blurring for you too?
“You know I want you,” you sang finally, your voice just as shaky as he was at the song's beginning. “It’s not a secret I try to hide. But I can’t have you. We’re bound to fate, and my hands are tied.”
Both of you were startled when everyone began cheering. In those brief moments, they seemed to fade into the background. Before Austin even had time to process what the hell happened, you said into the microphone, “And that’s enough from me. Austin, thank you for humoring me. Maybe we can get him to sing an Elvis song next?”
He was shell-shocked as you hurried off stage to rejoin Ashley and Olivia. He wanted to follow you. He wanted to take you somewhere quiet and private and ask a million questions. What did you mean by that song choice? Were you trying to tell him something? But before he could even think of what to do first, he heard the all-too-familiar chords of Jailhouse Rock blast from the speakers.
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A few days after you and Ashley returned to L.A., he got an email from his big sister. She had recorded your performance of Rewrite the Stars that night. The only text in the email stated, “If this is anything to go off of, I think you can, baby brother. Don’t waste this moment.”
Author’s Note: So…do we need a part two? Let me know down below! Likes, comments, and reblogs are cherished and adored.
