*This story is dedicated to the legend Luke Perry, who not only brought Dylan to life but gave him a soul.*

Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know

"You're a fucking piece of shit, just like your mother Dylan. You always will be!"

Jack pushed me against the wall hard. I looked into his cold dead eyes. They were filled with rage, and emptiness, like two black stones in the place of eyes. This man wasn't my father. He couldn't be. I didn't know this man. I tried to move away, but his hands pushed my shoulders back slamming me again.

All of this because I wouldn't leave the suite so he could entertain some whore he brought back. It's been my suite since he kicked me out of the house. This is where I stay, but every so often dad comes by to remind me that he runs things, and pays the bills.

"Get off me!" I holler back at him.

"No, I'm not going to get off you, until you apologize for being a spoiled rotten little shit!"

"Screw you Jack, if I'm that way it's because you made me that way!"

"Apologize now dammit!"

Instead, I spit in his face, that finally gets him off me.

I back away, as Jack (my father) wipes the spittle out of his eyes.

"Fuck you, Jack!" My hands are shaking, and I want to kill him. I hate him so much, my own rage all but consumes me. If I could I would light this whole room on fire and never look back.

"You little shit!" He charges for me now, but I pick up one of the empty bottles off the table and threaten him with it. I hold it high above my head. If he comes one step closer, I'll do it. I'll smash this over his head, and kill him.

"Jack, Jack baby please just let it go!" His whore rushes over to him now. She's clutching at her dress, with her tits hanging out.

I came home from school to find my father fucking this woman right on the sofa. He screamed at me to get out, then I told him to get out. Then before I knew it, we were knocking things over and destroying the room. We've had some bad fights, but this is the one where I might finally snap. I can't take any more of him.

I don't know who's drunker right now him or me. I'm drunk as usual, but I see things clearly too. My father is a lowlife criminal, and I was cursed to be born his son.

Jack's chest heaves with anger, as the whore clings to him. I hope he can't see my arm shaking. I can't let him know that I'm scared. I'm scared of this man. He's cruel, and evil, and hates me obviously.

"Get the fuck out," Jack almost whispers now out of breath.

I throw the bottle against the wall now. I wish it was his head. The glass shatters and breaks like my own broken heart.

"Fine...I'll go...I just hope you're gone when I get back." I grab my jacket off a chair and back out of the room through bleary eyes. I'm crying now, and glad he can't see.

I hurry down the hotel hallway jamming my arms into my long gray overcoat. The swirls on the carpet start to hypnotize my eyes, and I concentrate on them as I make my way slowly to the end of the hall.

I find the door that leads to the stairwell, and I push it open. I take the stairs as fast as I can, almost two at a time. When I get to the top, I push the door open and suck in a breath for dear life. I hurry to the edge of the roof and look down at the traffic whizzing below, then up at the hills in front of me. There's no escape from this life.

"Ahhhhhhhh!" I scream out at the top of my lungs, banging my fists against the concrete barrier.

I let it out until my voice gives out. No one hears me anyway, no one ever does. I'm on the roof of The Bel Age hotel, and the people down below are more worried about whether their Mercedes looks cool, or if their designer shit makes their ass look fat, then about some screaming kid up on a roof.

Welcome to my hell on Earth. Welcome to Beverly Hills.

I give up now, and bury my head in my hands, running my hands over my face before daring to look out again. From here the palm trees look like towering monsters, and the sunset burning the sky might as well be the road to hell.

I hate this place. I hate this fucking hotel. I hate my life. I hate myself.

I slump down now against the barrier, turning my back to the so-called paradise in front of me. I curl up now in a ball, and before I know it, sleep hits me like my father's slap to my face.

Author's Note: Dear Readers,

I know that was intense, but in this story, I really want to explore Dylan's mystery, and what his relationship with his family was really like. What drove him to drinking, and being the troubled young man he was? What's going on in his head? I love the character of Dylan McKay, and can't wait to find out more about him through writing this prequel. This story will lead up to Brenda and Dylan getting together. I hope you join me on this ride as we get to know the mad, bad and dangerous one himself.