Austin Griffin, AKA Archie Andrew from Riverdale, can be seen in the media. After many different Austins, I've finally found the right one. Out of all the Austins, which one was your favorite? Austin Mahone, Douglas Booth, Nick Robinson, Gregg Sulkin? You can also pick one of the new Austins... in the Pick Your Austin chapter. Yes... there literally is a Pick Your Austin chapter....

Sorry for another late update, but hey... you have the chapter now. That's something right? ^-^ So sit back, grab your bowls of popcorn, and relax. Well, as much relaxing as you can do reading my stuff... Enjoy!

*** 

Whittney and Jeremy's shouts vibrate through the walls and the sound of Austin's engine is like a blessing in that moment. I stand up from my sitting position on the front porch as the black Mustang comes into view.

The car pulls into the driveway and I wave at Austin with a smile. He smiles curtly back at me, not seeming too impressed at the moment. When I take my seat in the passenger seat, Austin is eyeing me with a frown and I shift uncomfortably. My bag is too big to fit in the front, so I throw it on the backseat.

"I thought we agreed that Whittney's house was off limits." His grip on the wheel is tight and I sense his anger. "Jeremy can show up at any minute, you know this. He's dangerous."

Austin has had his share of dangerous people in the past, so he had an eye for bad news. He was friends with a drug dealer, and things quickly escalated. Specifics were left out when he filled me in on it, but I know that he was hospitalized for a couple weeks and wasn't able to participate in sports for over a month afterwards.

When I tried to visit him at the hospital, his father would send me away every time. He never did a good job hiding his distaste for me, but chances are he never put in the effort. I often think Mr. Griffin figured out I was gay for his son even before I did. Would definitely explain his hostility.

I sigh, finally reacting to Austin's scolding eyes. "Whittney thought he wouldn't be back 'til later."

"Yeah. Well he wasn't," he grumbles, making a sharp turn to the right. Then he glances at me, holding onto the dashboard and the car handle for dear life. "Sorry," he sighs. "I just don't want you to get hurt, okay?"

His eyes leave the road and meet mine for a second. Many times I have wished to see the same look I've always had in my eyes reflect in his, but I know it won't happen. Austin has been in an ongoing relationship with Sabrina Williams for over a year now and for the first time since I've met him, I've never seen him more infatuated.

Before he was with Sabrina, there was not a doubt in my mind that he would forever just be using girl after girl until there weren't any left on the planet. It hurt me to come to this realization, but Sabrina is probably the only person who is capable of taming him. At least, she's been doing a great job so far.

At first, I really thought that he was going to break up with her, or cheat, but the fact that he never did just made me fall even harder - in love, and into a depression. Coming to the realization that he had feelings for someone, and that someone wasn't me, made the sink hole in my heart only widen.

That's what I get for falling in love with my straight best friend.

"Okay?" Austin's repeat of the question made me realize that I never answered him.

"Yeah," I hum, half in a daydream. "Yeah, okay."

"You're my best friend, Hare, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

Hearing him call me his best friend isn't something new, but it always feels like such an honor when he says it. When he runs his free hand through his hair and lets out a long sigh, I know he's about to talk about something serious.

"So, how bad was it?"

I shrug. "For Jeremy, not bad. He was in a pretty good mood today. There were some complications with this group of Mexicans, but apparently it's resolved now."

Austin's grip on the steering wheel is so tight that his knuckles are turning white. He clears his throat. "Sounds serious."

"Could be..." I trail off, not really sure where to take the conversation.

When we pull up in front of my house, I try to get away with just a mumbled 'thanks', but Austin's hand lands on my shoulder, making me freeze.

"Try to stay away from the drugs, okay? I know weed won't kill you, but if you get caught with it, you're screwed."

"Yeah, I know."

He sighs, releasing me.

I don't dare wave goodbye as he drives off. Just the chance of seeing him upset because of his disappointment in me is something I can't bare.

Throwing up my hoodie over my head, I walk up the driveway to the front door. My key finds its way into the lock and I cross the threshold, closing the door behind me, the only barrier between me and the outside world. A heavy breath leaves my lips; after the day I've had, it's good to be home.

"Harrison, Charlette?" The welcoming voice of my mother calls, soothing me to the bone.

"Just me, Mom!" I yell in reply, already heading to the kitchen.

After a long day at school, talking to my mom is a great cure for a sour mood.

Reaching the kitchen, I smile when Eleanor accompanies Mom with one of their after school projects. My little sister pats away at the sugar cookie dough on the counter, and my mother laughs, trying to calm her small, hyperactive hands. The sounds of their laughter mixing makes me chuckle. I almost forgot how different the warm atmosphere of my home is compared to school and Whittney's place - it's like a breath of fresh air.

My mother's arm wraps around my shoulder and places a kiss on the top of my head. "Hey, Kiddo. How'd day number one go?"

Given all that happened on just the first day, I'm terrified of how the rest of the year will turn out.

I sigh. "Can we talk about it later? I'm a bit drained."

For a moment, she looks shocked, but she quickly blinks it away.

"Yeah, maybe a nap before dinner will do you some good." She smiles sweetly before sending me on my way upstairs.

Even though my mother's idea of taking a nap is considered, all sleep falls from my eyes once I connect with my pillow. I kick off my shoes in an attempt to get more comfortable, but it doesn't help. Staring at my ceiling, I hope for my muscles to relax, to give in to my deflating brain, but it's of no use.

Half an hour passes and I'm still only tossing and turning, so I decide to give up. Rolling onto my side, I reach for my bag which usually rests right against my nightstand, but it's not there. Panic gets a hold of me when I realize I left my backpack in Austin's backseat.

Reaching for my phone, I dial the number I've come to know by heart and patiently wait for the person on the other line to pick up. After just the second ring, it goes straight to voicemail.

"You've reached Austin Griffin. You know how this works." A beep follows his words, and I hang up, only to call again.

This time, he picks up right away.

"This isn't a good time," he says, his voice lowered.

Angry voices clutter the background, and I can't help but overhearing the degrading words Austin's father was spitting at his wife. I shudder in disbelief, wondering how a man could treat a woman so poorly.

"M-my bag... I think I left it in your car." I tread lightly into the conversation, unsure of what mood he's in this time.

A heavy breath leaves him and I picture him dragging his fingers through his already tousled hair. "Yeah, sure," he finally says. "I need to get out of the house for a little while, anyways."

"Okay, see you so-" I am cut off when I notice the line goes dead, but I'm used to it. Austin normally doesn't waste time with goodbyes.

It doesn't take long before a hooded Austin barges into the room, backpack in hand. He tosses it onto the bed and folds his arms as he leans against the doorframe. Brushing the hood back with his hand, he reveals a large bruise under his eye and a cut on his forehead.

"What happened to you?" I immediately sit up, looking over the damage done to his face. "You okay?"

He scratches his nose, avoiding eye contact while doing so. "I came to drop off your bag, not play twenty fucking questions."

A subtle smirk sneaks on his face after he pushes himself away from the doorframe. He slaps my leg, and I move so he can sit down next to me. When he's adjusted into a comfortable position, he leans his back against the wall.

"What happened?" I push the question once more, hoping this time I'd get an actual answer.

"Not important." Austin wipes some of the still wet blood from his forehead with his sleeve and sighs.

I frown. "It is to me."

"God, Harry," he laughs. "You're acting like my fucking girlfriend."

My cheeks heat up immediately and I quickly hide my face, pretending to check my phone to be less obvious.

"Alright," he says, patting my leg before standing up. "I got to get home before my father realizes I snuck out."

"Snuck out?" I question. "You grounded?"

He shrugs. "Something like that."

I sigh. Opening up has never been Austin's forte. "I'll see you at school, yeah?"

"Course," he says, heading for the door. "Later."

I pass out right after dinner. My mind is completely at ease while my brain is turned off, but it doesn't stay like that for long. Something tries to keep pulling me out of my sleep, and I finally give in.

There's a shuffling noise coming from my window, and I wipe my eyes with the palm of my hand. I jerk awake when I hear a loud thump, as if something had fallen to the floor. Turning to face the window, the light from the streetlamp shines through the open curtains, revealing the cause of my disrupted sleep.

"Whittney?" I croak. "What are you-"

"Scoot over." He shrugs off his hoodie and lays down next to me when I make room. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

"Of course," I say drowsily, handing him an extra pillow.

Whittney takes it gratefully and makes himself comfortable by laying on his side, his back facing me. He smells of cheap beer and cigarettes and his shoulders shake lightly, the action accompanied by sniffling.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I whisper.

"Nah, man." He snorts and I see him wipe his nose. "Can we just lay here?"

"Yeah, sure."

The complete silence surrounding us confirms my suspicions that he's crying, his whimpers growing louder the longer we lay there. Something must have really broken him to make him upset enough to cry like this. My paranoid mind suddenly jumps to the worst conclusion. What if his mom didn't make it through the day?

Eventually, I can't take seeing him like this anymore. I reach out to rub his back, and at first, he seems to calm down, the sniffling subsiding.

"The fuck are you doing?" He suddenly growls, making me retract my hand in a flash.

"I was just trying to-"

"Well, don't."

"Alright," I concede. "Okay."

Huffing in irritation, I turn my back towards to him. If he was going to lash out at me for trying to comfort him, he could cry alone.

When the sniffling finally stops and his breathing evens, I know he's asleep. It doesn't take long before I am following his lead, my body slowly draining of energy with each breath I take.   

***

So some questions are answered this chapter, and even more have arisen. For those of you who have already read BMR, you know Austin's little secret, but for those who havent, I won't spoil anything for you. Then, there's also the 'bad boy' we love to hate, and hate to love - Whittney Rhodes. 

Please feel free to leave comments or theories in the comment section, letting me know what you think. Or maybe, leave a vote if you thought the chapter was worthy of it!