A soft black nose pushed against Dylan's arm as Max pushed his body against the cold, leather chair. Dylan slowly opened his eyes to see the clock hands tick slowly, the hour hand stretching to meet the five while the longer hand hit the six. The soft, brown leather-bound sketchbook had slipped from the place in the crook of his arm while the pen left a black mark against the pale skin of his palm, mimicking a birthmark. Max pulled his head away as Dylan stretched himself out. He grabbed the sketchbook as it shifted towards across his lap. The sketchbook was opened to his latest drawing. The too all familiar face from his dreams smiled up at him.
Great, I fell asleep sketching again, Dylan groaned as he reached up to massage his neck, hoping the soreness would go away before he spent the time working on the boat this morning since the rest of the crew had taken the last few days off because they had all been sick. Looking down at the white and grey English shepherd bouncing around the chair, Dylan laughed at Max's impatient expression and closed the book, flagging the page he had fallen asleep working on. At least this time, it was in the chair and not up in the light house.
"Well, come on Max, I'll let you out when I get dressed for work," Dylan smiled at Max as he got up from the chair tucking the book underneath his arm. He walked towards the front door and opened it. He pushed his soft black hair out of his eyes as he watched Max play in the yard before turning into the house. He walked into the laundry room off the kitchen and grabbed the change of clothes he has laid out. He through on his dark pants and tugged on the tall black boots with a yawn.
Yanking his heavy white sweater over his head, he walked into the kitchen and placed his sketchbook. He quickly reached for the opened cereal box on the counter and poured some into the bowl next to it. Opening the fridge, he grabbed the milk and poured it into the glass. He leaned against the counter as he ate his cereal and glanced towards the window to see the sky was still black before his eyes landed on the sketchbook.
Atleast, I'll have you to keep me company, Dylan thought as his eyes wandered over the frayed edges of the pages. He could make out some spots where the pen had bled along the edges after he thought he had finally gotten something about her face right only to have found a mistake that stopped his hand.
Well, it is time for work, Dylan sighed as he placed the empty bowl in the sink. After grabbing his water out of the fridge and the sketchbook, Dylan made his way to the front door. He tugged on the thick jacket, tucking the notebook inside the inner pocket over his chest next to the pencil that he kept there if he was ever hit with sudden inspiration or had little to do on the boat. Grabbing his keys, he walked out and whistled for Max. Opening the door of his dark green pick up truck, Max scrambled into the passenger seat before Dylan climbed in. Once Dylan arrived at the dock, he quickly unloaded the supplies he needed and walked towards the boat. After a few minutes of packing up the boat, Dylan stood at the wheel of the boat, watching as the sun started to peak out from the horizon.
"You know, staring at the water isn't going to make your boat go, right?" A voice filled with amusement said from behind him. Dylan turned around to see his best friend, leaning against the pole at the end of the dock. His blonde hair was still tousled with sleep and he wore his favorite jeans and his coach's jacket. Yawning, Jim leaned away from the pole and lifted the two coffee cups in his hands with a lopsided grin.
"Jim, what are you doing here?" Dylan blurted out ah his friend walked towards the boat. Jim stuck out his tongue as he reached the place where the boat was tethered to the dock. "Shouldn't you be curled up in bed at this hour?" Dylan teased Jim as he grabbed the coffee cups. "Did you really need two cups of coffee?"
"No, I needed one. The second cup is for you," Jim retorted as he grabbed the cup with a small x across the top of it. "Don't worry. It's hot apple cider because I know you can't stand the taste of coffee. I won't try force you to drink it again after last time."
"Why are you doing here then if not to watch me spill steaming black coffee over my favorite white sweater again?" Dylan asked as he narrowed his eyes at Jim as he took a sip of the hot apple cider. "Is something wrong? You barely acknowledge that there is a six o'clock in the morning and you can't stand the smell of apple cider…"
"What? A best friend can't want to come fishing with the best fisherman in Storybrooke?" Jim smirked at Dylan, who only responded by folding his arms across his chest, making sure not to spill any of the cider. Jim grumbled and sat down on the crate next to him. "You seemed sad when we talked a few days ago so I wanted to come since the school's closed today and visit with you while you went fishing. Besides fishing without your crew won't get you a very big pull."
"I dont know if I'm more surprised you are out of bed this early or that I don't have to drag you out on the boat," Dylan claimed as he walked over to untie the boat from the dock."Thanks for coming. I may need the help."
"Well you didn't pout last time I made you come and help me teach the kids basketball so I figured I owed you one," reminded Jim as Dylan walked into the cabin and started the boat. "I do have one favor to ask you though… do you have any motion sickness medicine on board?" Jim schoffed as Dylan laughed, tossing him the medicine that one of the crew members always kept in the cabin.
After a few hours at sea, Dylan and Jim sat next to each other on crates, waiting before they could pull up the net for the last time. They had spent the morning chatting about various things with Dylan attempting to avoid what was bothering him. Finally, Jim turned to Dylan and raised his eyebrows, waiting for his friend to tell him what was wrong.
"Do you ever think that there's something more out there? Something just beyond your reach that you are meant to find but you just can't seem to fit the pieces together to make the puzzle visible." Dylan contemplated as he looked towards the horizon, searching for any sign of the storm the news had talked about the night before. Grey clouds were slowly rolling towards the shore but it would be a few hours before the rain started. Dylan stood up and turned his head towards Jim, waiting for a response.
"Is this about that girl that you are constantly sketching?" Jim teased as he raised his eyebrows at Dylan, who blushed and turned to check on the lines. Jim watched for a few minutes waiting for Dylan to answer. Dylan avoided his eye contact and busied himself with checking the net. "She's quite pretty but I haven't seen her around town." Jim leaned against the cabin door as he watched his friend fumble with the net and the blush on Dylan's cheek darkened.
"Well," Dylan sighed as he hung his head and throw the net back. "Thats the thing. I don't think she's in Storybrooke… or even on the outskirts of town."
"Are you saying you've never actually seen her?" Jim's mouth gaped as Dylan looked towards him, a frown across his lips.
"That's the thing. I see her all the time. I mean every time I close my eyes and fall asleep. But I've never met her. I feel like I know her from somewhere but I can't think of where I could have met her. It's weird but I feel like somehow she knows me better than anyone even though I have no idea who she is," Dylan proclaimed as he folded his arms across his chest. Jim tilted his head listening to his friend, his eyebrows lifted in concern. Dylan sighed and turned away as Jim stood up. "I know it sounds crazy. There's no other way to say it. Its- its just that I know her from somewhere. I can feel it. Nothing else has seemed this real to me before her."
"Well I guess we all have the face that seems to haunt us. Although I've never seen anyone as broken up about someone they haven't met in my life," Jim assured his friend as he walked over, patting Dylan on the back.
"I just- I can't forget about this face. It's the one thing that gets me through the day. I wake up, I get on a boat with a bunch of guys, eats, sleep, and hang out with you on occasion. But at night, when I crawl up to the top of the old lighthouse and I sketch her, my mundane life seems extraordinary. So I try my hardest to draw her. Again and again, trying to capture the smile just right and the glint in her beautiful green eyes. It keeps me sane. It keeps me company," Dylan confessed as he meet Jim's eyes, his blue eyes a bit misty. Shaking his head, Dylan swallowed and turned away. " I've never been the one that people want to hang out with. Sure everyone in town is friendly to me. But you're my only friend. Even then, we only see each other maybe twice a week between our jobs. I felt lonely surrounded on this tiny crowded boat, sitting in the diner watching everyone else walk in and out surrounded by loved ones. But when I think of her, when I dream or sketch, I fill almost whole. I feel like one day, I'll find out who she is. Everytime I draw her, I feel like I get closer to her. I learn more about her. What makes her smile, what makes her so familiar to me. I can't explain it really… How can I let go of someone who makes me feel complete...even if she's just a face in a dream." Dylan closed his eyes and sat down on the edge of the boat. Leaning forward, he placed his head in his hands.
"I understand, Dylan. I- I get it," Jim squatted down and softly knocked Dylan's leg, prompting Dylan to lift his head. Jim smiled softly at his friend. "Well I hope you find her. You deserve some happiness. You deserve someone who will cheer you up and make you feel less alone. Just don't think you are ever alone you have me."
"I know. I know," Dylan grumbled as he stuck out his tongue. "Until I find her, I'll wait here because I think one day she'll be here and I will finally get the chance to know who she really is. As much as I love who I dream about, I just know that I will love who I met and get to know more…"
"Well then it's my job as your best friend to keep you entertained until your princess emerges from the great deeps," Jim smirked as he stood back up and watched as Dylan rolled his eyes, standing up to walk towards the net. "Well, if you don't help me with the net, you may need to spend more time entertaining me because I won't have any customers to sell to!" Dylan smiled at Jim as his friend scrambled to grab the other handle to bring in the net. They moved on to other topics as Jim started to tell Dylan about how the kids handled playing dodgeball the day before as they worked to bring in the net. They chatted as they sorted the fish out and went back to shore. Jim helped Dylan load up the fish onto his trunk to be delivered to the various restaurants around town and the usual customers. Dylan waved Jim off with a promise to meet him for a night of pool at the Rabbit Hole on Saturday as Max scrambled into the front passenger seat of his truck. Dylan made his usual rounds dropping of the fish to the stands at the local farmers markets and the other supplies as the restaurants.
"Stay here, Max," Dylan patted the dog's head as he passed by the passenger side. "This is the last stop of the day. Then we can go home and make some lunch." Dylan smiled softly as Ruby huffed when he handed her the bucket full of fish. He sniffled a laugh as Ruby scrunched up her nose, trying to avoid the smell. Ruby handed off the fish to her grandmother and turned to Dylan with a smile. Nodding and sending her a soft smile, he turned around quickly before Ruby could ask him what he was doing that night. He liked Ruby well enough; but, he never felt comfortable in conversations with her because they never had much to talk about besides traveling but they never wanted to see the same things or the similar places.
Dylan walked to his trunk and climbed in. Patting Max on the head, he started the trunk and left the parking lot of the diner and headed to the edge of town towards the old lighthouse. His father had left him the lighthouse when they passed and Dylan didn't have the heart to sell it even though he didn't need all the space for just him and Max or did the distance allow for a thriving social life growing up, which he never really missed but Jim always teased him about in high school. The lighthouse stood proud against the slowly darkening grey sky. The faded white paint had started to peel a few years ago, leaving behind grey spots. Dylan made a mental note as he climbed out of the car and stood to let Max jump out to make time to repaint the lighthouse or blackmail Jim helping him find someone into painting it for him. After all, he had all those drunken confessions of a crush on a blonde woman in town that Jim has seen on the street that he had been saving up to tease Jim with when he got the chance.
Walking to the front of the house, Dylan opened the door, letting Max run in and crash in front of the fireplace. Shaking his head at Max's eyes stared up at him, waiting for Dylan to step inside. Shrugging off his jacket, Dylan hung up it up as the door closed behind him. Dylan reached into the pocket on the inside of his jacket and took out the small sketchbook. Placing it under his arm, Dylan bent down to pick up the mail that had been placed through the slot. Dylan placed his keys on the small table by the door. Shifting through the envelopes, Dylan walked towards the small kitchen. He grabbed an apple of the counter and placed the bills on the corner. Opening the fridge, he grabbed the sandwich he had made the night before and a cold soda as he bit into the apple. He walked back to his favorite chair and turned on the television so he could have some blank noise. He often took his lunch up to the top of the lighthouse, where he would try to sketch the horizon of the sea. But, today, he curled up in the chair, placed his lunch on the table, and picked up the pencil he always left on the side table for moments like this where Dylan could sense the incoming storm.
The television drowned out the starting drizzle as he untucked the leather bound sketchbook from under his arm. He opened up the page he had marked to see the image that he couldn't get out of his hard. Her soft hair curled around her shoulders. Her smile was sweet and kind. As pretty as she was this time, Dylan still wasn't happy. He picked up his pencil as he bit his lip. He couldn't seem to get her eyes right this time. Every time he sketched her, he seemed to find something wrong. He couldn't find a red rich enough to capture her unique shade. The shade from her lips was not good enough. Her eyes weren't wide enough and didn't capture her fascination or wonder at the world this time.
Perhaps this time, he thought as he turned the page to a blank sheet, I'll get it right. He sighed at his own nativity. He knew that he wouldn't be able to capture her until they met for real. But he had to try. He needed to try because this was all he had of her for now. As crazy as this may seem, I need to keep going and not just to feel alone. I need to find her because I know she'll understand me. I know that even if she finds me but doesn't want me, I'll understand. But I owe this to myself, right? Dylan sighed as he placed the pencil to the paper and started drawing.