(delaney's outfit for this part of the chapter)

The group were thrilled for Ally because Trish had announced that morning Ally's song 'Redial' sold so well, Ramone Records is moving up the release date for her debut album to next week. They even decided on throwing a record release party for her, but Ally realized she would need to quit working at Sonic Boom if she wanted to focus on her music career that is now taking off. Since Ally was going to be so busy, Ally and Finn had a plan to do as many dates as they can to make up for all the lost time before she got too busy with her music career.

Meanwhile, Delaney was dealing with a struggle of her own—one she hadn't shared with anyone yet. During rehearsal the night before, she noticed a strange muffled ringing in her left ear. At first, she brushed it off as fatigue. But when she woke up unable to hear anything clearly in one ear, panic set in. A visit to the doctor confirmed her fear: she was experiencing temporary hearing loss, likely from prolonged exposure to loud environments during her recent concert. 

For a famous singer like Delaney, it was a devastating blow. Her team paused her upcoming performances, and she was told to avoid straining her ears or singing until further notice. She put on a brave face around her fans, but behind closed doors, she was scared—scared of what this could mean for her voice, her future, and everything she had worked for.

As the others celebrated Ally's rise, Delaney struggled with the possibility of a forced silence. But she kept it to herself—for now. The late afternoon light filtered into Delaney's studio room, casting long, golden shadows across the floor. She sat motionless on the piano bench, her fingers resting lightly on the keys but not pressing down. The open notebook beside her was a mess—half-written lyrics, some crossed out so fiercely the paper had torn. A cold mug of tea sat untouched on the windowsill, forgotten. She'd been in the room for hours, trying to write, trying to sing—trying to feel like herself. But the strange pressure in her left ear made everything sound off, like she was underwater. Isolated. Wrong.

The door creaked open behind her.

"You didn't answer my call," Austin said softly, his voice cautious but warm. "Again."

Delaney didn't turn around. "I know," She murmurs. "Sorry."

He steps into the room, eyes scanning the scattered papers, the untouched lunch, the silence that hung heavier than usual. He walks over slowly, stopping just beside the piano. "You've been here all day?"

"Yeah." She sighed.

Austin's gaze lingers on her face, watching the way her eyes avoided his. Something was wrong—more than just writer's block or a bad day. "Laney, talk to me," He said gently, lowering himself to sit on the bench beside her. "What's going on?"

She didn't speak for a long moment. Then, her voice barely a whisper, she said, "Something's wrong with my hearing."

Austin froze. "What do you mean?"

Delaney keeps her eyes fixed on the keys. "It started last night during rehearsal. My left ear felt...Off. Like there was pressure, and this ringing that wouldn't go away. I thought maybe I was tired, or maybe it was the monitors. But this morning, I woke up and it was worse. Everything sounded fuzzy. Distant."

Her hands trembles slightly in her lap. "I went to the doctor. They said it's temporary hearing loss. Probably from all the loud shows lately. I'm not supposed to sing or even rehearse until it clears up."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Austin asked softly, reaching over to intertwine his fingers with hers.

Delaney hesitates, her shoulders curving inward as she avoids his gaze. "Because I was scared," She admits, her voice catching. "I didn't want to say it out loud. I didn't want it to be real. And I didn't want you to...Look at me differently."

Austin's heart twists at the vulnerability in her words. He gently tilts her chin so she'd meet his eyes. "Delaney, look at me." She did, reluctantly, tears glimmering in her lashes. "I could never look at you differently," He said with quiet conviction. "You're still the same girl I fell for—the one who turns her thoughts into poetry, who lights up the stage without even trying. This doesn't change that. It doesn't change you."

"But what if it doesn't go away?" She whispers. "What if I can't sing again? What if this is it for me?"

"Then we'll face it together. Whatever comes. But right now? We wait. We rest. And we give yourself the time and space you need to heal," Austin said softly, his voice unwavering. "You're not alone in this. And I promise, this doesn't change anything about who you are or what you mean to me."

Delaney's eyes fluttered shut as she absorbed his words, letting the weight of his reassurance settle over her. She had been holding so much fear inside, fearing the loss of her voice—the very thing that defined her. But Austin's calm strength, his unwavering belief in her, made her feel a little less alone in the silence that had taken over her world.

She slowly turns her head toward him, meeting his gaze. Her voice was barely a whisper as she spoke again. "What if the silence never ends? What if I can't do this anymore?"

Austin squeezes her hand gently. "Then we find a new way forward. But we don't rush into any conclusions. We take it one day at a time, and we take care of you. We're in this together, Delaney. Always."

A single tear slips down Delaney's cheek as she nodded. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"You'll never have to find out." He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, letting his lips linger for a moment before pulling her close, enveloping her in a hug. 

They stayed like that for a while, the silence wrapping around them like a blanket. Delaney leaned into his warmth, the steady rise and fall of his chest a soothing rhythm. She breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne, letting it ground her in the moment. The pressure in her left ear was still there, a faint reminder of the uncertainty that lay ahead. But the silence wasn't so heavy now—not with Austin by her side.

After a few moments, Austin pulls back, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "I love you, Delaney. Nothing could ever change that."

"I love you, too." She whispered, her voice hoarse but sincere.

"Come on," He said softly, standing up and offering her his hand. "Let's go get some fresh air. You need a break from this room, from the pressure. Just a little reset."

Delaney looked at his outstretched hand for a moment, then slid her fingers into his. The touch was warm, grounding. She let him pull her gently to her feet, and for the first time that day, she felt like maybe she could move forward—just a little. As they walked toward the door, she glanced back at the piano, the messy notebook, the untouched tea. The fear still lingered in the corners of her mind, but it didn't feel so paralyzing anymore.

Outside, the late afternoon had turned golden, the sun dipping low and casting everything in a soft, forgiving light. The air was cool against her skin, crisp and refreshing. Austin kept her hand in his, their steps slow and easy as they made their way down the quiet street. It felt weird, not being able to hear correctly in one ear—but somehow, it wasn't as scary with Austin beside her. The world sounded uneven, like it was tilting slightly to one side, but the steadiness of his grip anchored her. Delaney tilted her head with a frown, trying to adjust to the muffled hum of traffic and distant birdsong. It was strange, like the soundtrack of her life had been turned down in one channel. A part of her still panicked at the unfamiliarity of it—but another part was just...Tired. Tired of pretending it wasn't happening.

Austin glances over, noticing her small wince as a car passed by. "Still bothering you?" He asked gently, squeezing her hand.

She nods. "Yeah. It's like...I'm half here. Everything's kind of hollow on the left. Like a TV with bad reception. Or a song played through a really tinny speaker. But it isn't all the time. Some moments are normal, and other times I can barely hear anything."

Austin nods, understanding and squeezes her hand. Delaney exhales slowly, the sound uneven in her own ears. "It's dumb," She mumbles, eyes flicking up to his. "It's not even that bad, not compared to what other people go through. I just...I don't know how to stop noticing it."

Austin didn't let go. He didn't flinch or try to fix it. He just stayed right there with her. "It's not dumb." He assures her. "It's your world, and it's changing. That's a big deal."

Delaney's chest tightens, but the warmth of Austin's touch helped her breathe a little easier. His words were simple but exactly what she needed to hear. She looks up again, a half-smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks for not running."

"Why would I run? You think a little hearing problem is enough to scare me off?" Austin asks, quirking an eyebrow playfully. "I watched you parallel park between two trucks during rush hour while singing along to that impossible whistle note in a Mariah Carey song. You think this is the thing that's gonna make me run?"

Delaney chuckles. "That was a stressful day."

"Yeah, and you crushed it," He said, his grin softening. "You're one of the bravest people I know, baby. You don't have to hide the hard stuff from me. I'm here for the good, for the bad, and everything in between. You're not going through this alone, okay?" 

Delaney blinks rapidly when she felt tears burning behind her eyes, threatening to spill over. She clears her throat, trying to hold it together. "Okay. I love you."

He raises their intertwined hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers. "I love you too," Austin murmurs, his voice steady and sure. "More than you probably know." Delaney let out a shaky breath, her heart beating louder than the world around her. The muffled edges of everything didn't feel so sharp with his words wrapping around her like armor.

He gave her hand another squeeze. "Whatever this is—good days, bad ones, confusing, messy...I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Delaney nods, her cheeks flushed. "Neither am I."

And for the first time that day, the silence didn't feel so terrifying. 

****

(delaney's outfit for this part of the chapter)

By the end of the week, it was official. She had partial hearing loss in her left ear. Sensorineural, the doctor said. Permanent. Manageable. Delaney sat on the crinkly paper of the exam table, gripping the audiogram like it might tell her something different if she stared long enough. Austin was there too, perched in the corner chair watching her with a quiet intensity, his hands folded in his lap, giving her space but ready to step in whenever she needed him. 

When the doctor left, there was a beat of quiet—thicker than silence, heavier. Delaney swallowed hard, still trying to absorb everything the doctor had said. The words permanent and sensorineural kept echoing in her head, but it wasn't just the medical terms that gnawed at her. It was the weight of permanent—a word she hadn't expected to hear today. Not just a setback, but something that would stay with her for the rest of her life.

And then Austin stood, walked over, and gently plucked the paper from her hands. "Okay," He said, like it was just a pop quiz or a weather report. "So we work with this."

"How? My life is sound," Delaney said, her voice cracking at the edges. "Music is everything to me. And now it's like part of the world's gone underwater and I can't...I can't get it back."

Austin's face softens and he folds the paper and set it on the counter like it could wait. Then he cups her face, thumbs brushing the corner of her eyes where tears had started to well again. "Delaney, listen to me," He says softly. "You are still you. This doesn't change your passion, your talent, or your heart."

"What if I lose fans 'cause of this? What if my career is over just 'cause of that stupid speaker exploding and causing this mess?" Delaney's voice wavered with a mix of frustration and fear. She buried her face in her hands for a moment, trying to breathe through the weight of everything that felt so uncertain.

"They weren't real fans to begin with if they would leave you over something like this," Austin said firmly, his tone steady as he rubs her back to comfort her. "The people who truly support you, they'll stick around. They're with you for who you are, not just the sound you make. Your music, your story—those are what matter. And those can't be taken away by one little setback."

Delaney sniffles, slowly uncovering her face from her hands. She looks up at him, eyes still red but searching for the hope he was offering. "But everything's different now, Austin. I don't know how to do this anymore."

"Then we'll figure it out together." Austin assures, his voice soft but full of conviction. "One step at a time. We'll find a new way forward. I promise you, you're not doing this alone. You don't have to have all the answers right now. We'll learn as we go. And no matter what happens, I'm here, okay?"

Delaney felt the panic that had gripped her since she first noticed the hearing loss ease a little. Austin was right. She wasn't alone. This was just another challenge, one they would face together. "Okay," She murmurs, her voice a little less shaky. "I don't know how you manage to make everything seem so much more...Manageable."

Austin's lips tugs up into a lopsided grin. "It's a gift."

She rolls her eyes, but there was a ghost of a smile on her lips. "You're such a dork."

"You love it." He replied, leaning down to kiss her.

Delaney smiles against his lips. "I love you." She said when they broke apart.

"I love you too," Austin smiles softly. "Now let's get out of here." He stands, offering his hand to her. "I think it's time for a distraction."

"Like what?" Delaney asked as she took his hand, her smile growing.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I could really go for a sweet treat of some kind. Milkshakes sound good to you?" Austin asked with a smile, knowing she loved milkshakes.

Delaney's eyes sparkles a little at the suggestion, her stomach fluttering with a mix of excitement and relief. The weight of the doctor's office was starting to slip away, replaced by the simple idea of something sweet. "Milkshakes? Absolutely. I could use one of those right now." She replied, her voice lightening with the thought of something familiar and comforting.

Austin grins, his eyes soft with affection. "I knew you'd be in." He said, his voice teasing but warm. He guided her out of the room and down the hallway, his hand still firmly holding hers, as though offering an anchor in the chaos of everything that had changed.

As they stepped out into the bright light of the waiting room, Delaney found herself breathing a little easier. The world hadn't stopped moving—her career, her music, her dreams—they were all still there, waiting. It was just going to look a little different now.