Authors Note: I own nothing. No ownership rights to Beverly Hills 90210. None to Take a Bow written by Mikes Eriksen, Tor Erik Hermansen and Shaffer Smith, produced by StarGate, and performed by Rihanna.
Chapter Three: Take a Bow
I had driven around for forty minutes. If I went home he might be there, or maybe he wouldn't be. I'm not sure which would be worse. Donna's was an option, but what if she knew? What if Steve and Andrea did as well? David must know, Kelly was his new sister after all. Dylan had always been a player, it was why Brandon was so hesitant when we got together, it was why my Dad feared his influence, his experience. If I went to any of them now, would they give me sanctuary, or would I be met with disbelief, amazed that I was so naïve to actually believe Dylan was faithful to me. How many more had there been? How many times? No, I couldn't process any more tonight, I couldn't find out if this deception went further than the man I loved and my best friend. I wasn't ready to know if for the last two year's I had been a joke, the last to know that Dylan had been acting all along.
After two knocks on the door David pulled it open, and on seeing my face he stepped out and gathered me in his arms. Maintaining the hug he gradually stepped back, bringing me into the apartment without releasing me. As we passed the threshold he called for his wife, "Ange, Brenda…"
He didn't finish his sentence, I'm guessing he wasn't sure how to describe me, how to sum up the pain I could only imagine was radiating off me.
Camille made her way out of what I presumed was a bedroom. "Oh no!" She moved over to me, and David relinquished his hold but only to transfer me to Camille's arms. Rubbing my back she spoke soothing words in French. Most I understood, I was used to communicating in both languages when in their company.
On finally catching my breath enough to speak through my tears, I gave them an explanation for my sudden appearance. "I was right, but it wasn't small, it wasn't a slight indiscretion. It was my best friend. He's not who I thought he was. Maybe he never was."
It would take a cup of sweet tea and nearly an hour before I could describe the events that had taken place once I dropped them off without breaking down. David had wanted to go see Dylan, and if he knew the city better I'm not sure we would have been able to stop him. Camille had ranted in French, using words that never appeared in my French language books or taught in my summer lessons.
By the time I had calmed down, and the numbness had begun to seep in, finding what would be a new home in me, it was approaching midnight. I was well and truly past my curfew. David and Camille didn't want me to drive, my eyes were swollen from my tears, and I looked ready to collapse from the emotional exhaustion. The labels apartment had two bedrooms, set up for extended stays for out of town artists, and while I welcomed the offer of the second bedroom I needed to call home first. Camille pointed me in the direction of the room, "there is a phone by the bed."
Brandon answered so fast, I'm not even sure it had rung. He immediately started bombarding me with questions, where was I? Was I okay? What had happened with Dylan? What fight could be so bad that I would leave him so distraught and take off? My continued silence where I was trying to process how I could tell Brandon about his brother and friends deceit, trying to build enough strength to say it all again without having another breakdown, must have frustrated him. "Brenda! It has taken an hour and a half to finally calm Dylan down, well enough for him to at least stop pacing and moving to the window at the slightest noise. Though he is still eyeing the liquor cabinet enough that Dad has taken to guarding the locked door by leaning against the desk in the living room. Seriously, he is in rough shape, so whatever drama that has taken place you need to come and sort it out. I'm close to calling Ben."
Not being able to process all this new information, my only reply was to ask to speak to Mum. He pushed again for an answer to where I was, and only when my voice broke saying his name did he finally adhere to my request and go and get Mum.
Mum was only slightly better than Brandon but her questions were more about my safety, and multiple requests to reaffirm I was physically fine. When she had ascertained that I was okay, she shifted to trying to understand. "Brenda, what happened tonight?"
"Mum, I can't right now, but if it's all right with you, can I stay the night with Camille? Her and her husband David, have a two bedroom apartment, you can have the address, phone number, and you can speak to Camille if you like." Pausing I start again, though this time there is an urgent plea in my voice, "I just can't go home, not with him there."
In a whisper she asks, "Brenda, he didn't hurt you did he?"
"No Mum, not physically, I actually haven't even spoken to him since I left school this afternoon."
"Wait, Dylan said you had a fight."
"We didn't… Mum I'll explain it all to you tomorrow, I'll be home for breakfast."
"I've set up the cot for Dylan, Brandon is worried about him drinking. He'll be here in the morning." Pausing for a moment she then awkwardly added if she should ask him to leave.
I sighed. "No. Let him stay." With tears filling my eyes I went on. "It's okay, if Brandon is worried then let him stay there. Tell Brandon, Ben's home number is in my address book. It's in the top draw of my bedside table." Pausing to wipe the tears that had escaped my eyes. "Mum, I'll call in the morning once they have left for school. When I know he won't be there, I'll come home."
"Brenda, this isn't a fight, is it?"
Sniffling into the phone I responded, "No. This is Dylan breaking my heart and taking everything I know along with it."
Hearing how upset I was, must have set Mum off, as her voice broke asking for the details of where I was. She promised to keep them between my Dad and her. We ended our conversation with her reminding me how strong I am, and how much I am loved by my father and her.
A few minutes later, Camille knocked on the bedroom door bringing me pyjamas to sleep in. With a final hug she left the room leaving me alone. The next morning I got out of bed early, I don't think I could say I woke up as I'm not sure I ever really slept. Leaving the bedroom David looked up from his notebook and smiled, "Jet lag. Coffee is in the kitchen, go grab a mug and come join me."
Moving back to the couch, coffee in hand, I sat and curled my legs under me. "What are you working on?"
"Your song. Some of your words from last night have got stuck in my brain. It's nothing yet just a beat, a sound, but I'm hearing you singing a hauntingly beautiful song over it. Would you like to work on it with me?"
Another cup of coffee and an hour later, our first song together would be written. David was excited he felt it had flowed like magic, my words had him picturing the composition of beats, he wanted to record straight away. At barely seven in the morning I didn't think it was possible but David was insistent it was, so he left to make phone calls.
I liked writing it, it provided me an opportunity to say the things I would never say, a chance to describe some of what I was feeling. It also gave me something to focus on, a break from the never ending replay of what I had witnessed last night on Dylan's porch. I wondered if that loop was playing in Dylan's brain as well. From everything Brandon and my Mum said last night he had been distraught. If Brandon hasn't done it maybe I should reach out to Ben, get him to seek out Dylan. If he was as bad as they were saying, he should go to a meeting after school. Ben could take him.
In my musings, I didn't hear Camille come out of the bedroom, and when she touched my shoulder while fighting a yawn, I jumped in surprise. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you I didn't realise you were lost in thought." She moved to sit next to me on the couch.
"I'm thinking about calling Dylan's sponsor. Last night my Mum and brother said he was in a bad way. I'm sure his sponsor could help, could take him to a meeting."
Camille smiled, "You have a good heart but you can't guide him through this. His recovery is his recovery. He need's to take responsibility, and from what you found out last night he needs to take responsibility for a lot."
Looking out the window at the sunny LA sky, I respond. "I'm used to being there for him. I'm used to being his support. How do I stop doing that for him?"
"Brenda, he hurt you. You have the right to feel that, to be in those emotions. His choices caused this outcome. He won't learn, he won't acknowledge what he destroyed or take responsibility for the consequences if you are still there taking care of him." I turned to look at her with tears in my eyes, squeezing my lips together in fear a sob might leave my mouth.
She leaned over and rubbed my hand. "If you remain there taking care of him he will believe he is entitled to you. He might be thankful and sorry at first, but eventually he will believe he can do, be with whoever he wants, and that you'll always be there. He'll stop considering your emotions, confident in the knowledge that you'll stay. No, you need to be selfish now, love yourself more than him. You deserve more than how he has treated you, but only you can show that to the world. If you allow for what he did to be okay, then everyone will think it's okay. You'll wake up a year from now, and have been walked over by everyone."
Tears falling down my face I looked at Camille. "How do I do this? How do I keep from falling back?"
"You carve out something for yourself, that is no one else's, and in that place you heal, in that place do you find your well of strength and confidence to say you have been wronged and that you deserved better. And if people try and make you less than again, you use that well to call them out for it."
As I rub my face to remove the tears, David comes back in the room, "we have a studio booking at nine thirty. Ange your meetings at twelve right?"
"Yes, and we need to be at the airport by three for our flight. Brenda David said the song you wrote together is brilliant. We will need to do some paperwork though to protect you and any potential royalties. As you are under eighteen your parents will need to sign, and one should be there today to protect your legal rights."
Nodding my head I looked over at the clock, it was eight, they should be well gone by now. "Excuse me, I'll go and call." Rising from the couch I went to have a chat with my Mum. On calling home Dad picked up. He had taken the morning off work, as he was worried about me.
What followed next was a surreal morning. A quick trip home to outline the previous nights events which left my parents appalled at both Dylan and Kelly, followed by a disclosure of my experiment with music in France, and David's studio booking this morning. To say they were surprised was an understatement but they didn't challenge me on it, I think my fragility was shining through in my eyes. After a quick change of my clothes we were in the car. Both of my parents insisting on accompanying me to the studio. From the looks they were giving each other, I'm sure they thought this was another of my impulsive short lived ideas. Though it appeared as if they were willing to humour me after the events of the last twelve hours. On meeting David and Camille, and spending two hours watching us record, my parents had obviously changed their thinking. They were amazed, almost giddy in how proud they were of me.
While it still wasn't perfect with David wanting to add more layers to the sound, it was finished enough for Camille to insist on playing it at the label meeting. She believed it would be a great start to the roll out of David's tracks in the US. She would be forever on my Dad's good side when she asked him to come along to the meeting. Camille knew the music industry but my Dad knew finance and US contracts. He would follow her lead but would ensure that if the label was interested in me that I would be taken seriously from the start.
Mum and I dropped David back at the apartment, and on returning home the adrenaline of the morning finally wore off. Giving my Mum a kiss on the cheek I went to take a bath. Over an hour later I came down the stairs for a late lunch. School would be over soon and I prayed that Dylan would let it be for the time being, giving me space.
Grabbing an ice tea and my notebook I went to lay outside in the backyard, looking for a space to continue to scribble in my notebook. It wasn't even thirty minutes later that I came to the conclusion that for such an attractive man Dylan was ugly when he lied.
Of course my life couldn't be simple. Bren's return and her parents renewed acceptance of us had settled me down. Being able to see her at school, have dinner with her most nights or call her when I needed to confirm she was okay had made my craving manageable. The dreams though still haunted me nightly, and had begun to make me more irritable. Bren unfortunately bore the brunt of this, but I was trying, I was attempting to make my addiction not impact her life too much. I had found ways to keep myself constantly busy when she wasn't near by. I worked on my bike and surfed each morning, when the dreams would force me up too early for my liking. It was going well I thought.
Kelly though had been a problem. My guilt over her, of stepping out on Bren was there of course, but I justified this as the better of two evils. Bren could have either come home to a raging alcoholic or home to me still being clean. Kelly was a choice I had made gradually, daily over the summer, but I still believed it was the best for us, by having a distraction I was saved from potentially spiralling out of control. Though I regret it being Kel, she was a friend, someone I knew since I was a kid. She had had enough crap pushed on her, enough dealings with addicts and didn't deserve more. She also wasn't handling it well. Her crush on me since Freshman year had obviously remained and not dissipated like I believed, though she had hid it well from both Bren and I. With Bren's return she had taken to walking around looking moody, but more concerning was that she was favouring my views in discussions, and while subtle at times had also begun to point out Bren's 'flaws'. Bren didn't have any.
Don't get me wrong, Bren was a pain in the arse at times. Since her return she had jumped into creating more stability around us, had begun to foreshadow plans for the future. She knew from her conversations with Ben and from attending AA meetings with me, that change was hard for addicts. And so she had begun to try and make me consider what I wanted after high school. It was frustrating, and like a child I pushed back on her every time, but I also knew on some level it was needed and would be best in the long term. Kel though had taken to siding with me when I was acting like a petulant child, when I was pushing back on having to even imagine my future. This surprised me as she had experience with addicts, and her encouragement was enabling me to hide from decisions I would need to make. It demonstrated that she was still in chameleon mode, trying to subtly prove how more in-tuned with me she was. Unfortunately for her, she didn't see that Bren's challenging, her pushing of me, was exactly what I needed. Even when it drove me crazy and I fought her every step of the way.
Bren had always been the only one who had cared that way about me. Being my partner she knew that no one else had ever served that role in my life. My parents had certainly proven they were incapable of it. She believed I could do anything, and while she favoured College for me, I also knew she would support almost any choice I'd make. The only choice I think she wouldn't back would be me bumming around L.A. permanently, both because having no routine would be bad for my recovery, and knowing that I wouldn't be happy just living off my Trust. That in someway I would want to contribute whether that be through writing, volunteering, or championing environmental causes. No one cared for me the way she did, she knew who I was at my core. Though Bran came a close second, but even he at times had questioned my character. Believing me capable of stealing from Henry the summer before, even after he graciously allowed me to maintain access to the Beach Club when Dad wasn't in a position to renew the membership. Bran had of course regretted his actions and apologised, but the seed of doubt had been planted. It also wasn't the first time he had questioned me that way, and while I could understand his concern about his Minnesota girlfriend and even my intentions with his sister; for him to continue to doubt me after we had built trust, had allowed that seed to take root.
Bren had no seed at all- I knew I could trust her. Even after her own indiscretions, even after she left me the summer before. No she wasn't perfect and she had hurt me many times, but she was always honest to me, even to the point of it being brutal. She was honest with how she felt, about her mistakes, admitted when she had pushed me too far, apologised when she was wrong. No she had no flaws, Bren was just exactly who she was. She was real to me. She had been the only real person in my life.
For the last two days Bren had been distracted. It had started on Monday night when I called to wish her sweet dreams. I liked Bren being the last person I spoke to each day and we would stay on for awhile, but this time she rushed through our phone call. Tuesday she had been distant, claiming she was too busy to spend the evening together. By Wednesday I was concerned. I hadn't felt her lips on mine since Monday afternoon when we said goodbye at school, and I had headed off to my AA meeting. Her distance wasn't helping me maintain my grip on my addiction. I was starting to lose focus, and my nightmare had been so much worse last night. For the first time I could hear her cry out all the way to the back alley as the gun shot landed. Whatever was going on I needed to sort it out.
On arriving home from school I had attempted to read, but after an hour nothing was making sense. So I had called Bren's house but was told by Cindy she had gone to dinner with friends. Thinking that meant the Peach Pit, I went over to join her, but she wasn't there, and Bran hadn't seen her since school. When the gang started making there way into the diner for dinner; first Kel with Donna and David, and then Steve and Andrea, I was starting to get frustrated. Bran questioned my obvious irritation, and rather than answering I asked which friends she could be out with. He didn't know. Eventually, I gave up on her arriving there, and I headed home to wait till I could make my nightly phone call. Not knowing where she was made me nervous. L.A. was unsafe, gun crime was common and drivers were insane. I hated the thought of her being unsafe, being hurt or worse.
I didn't count on Kel realising I wasn't spending my evening with Bren, like I usually did, and jumping on the opportunity to come over with some lame excuse. My current mood did not help in my dealings with Kel, and it wasn't too long until I was yelling at her about her obvious behaviour. When she yelled back, I knew I had to calm her. I couldn't have her angry and going to Bren now. It was way past the time I could be honest with Bren about the summer, if there had ever been a time I could have been. On moving closer to Kel, I touched her cheek, trying to soften the blow I would make with my words. As I started to explain myself, something caught my eye through the glass panel in the door.
I froze. It wasn't till she turned around that I gained the ability to move my body. Dropping my hand from Kelly's cheek I rushed to the door, pulling it open and leaping down the stairs, "Brenda, wait!" She slammed the door shut and started the car. On reaching the car I put my hand out to touch the side door, but she accelerated away. Running to the Porsche to follow her, I went to grab my keys from my pocket. Fuck, they weren't there. I ran back to the house. It took me rushing past Kelly to realise she was still standing in my entryway.
"Kel, I need to go! You need to go!"
"Dylan, maybe it's better she knows."
I looked at Kelly with a cold stare, was she serious, she thought this was good. "Kel, in no world would it ever be better she knows, and it would never ever be okay for her to be blindsided by it being in front of the both of us… if she had to know, it needed to be me, only me." Locating my keys and wallet, I moved back to the open door holding it. "Kel?" She took the hint and moved through the door.
As she made her way down the porch she turned around. "Are you going to tell her the truth?"
I groaned in annoyance, I just wanted to get to Bren. With my patience well and truly gone I snapped at Kel. "Look, I don't know, I don't know how long she was there. I'm going to tell her whatever I need to, to make this right."
Moving quickly, I jump in my car. It was too late to follow her, but it was approaching her curfew so she probably went home. On arriving at the Walshes, I knocked loudly. Bran opened the door and saw my panicked face, "D, everything okay?"
Pushing past him I let myself in. "Where's Bren?"
"She's not home yet." Confused he looked at me, "I thought you were going home."
"I did. Bren came by, but she rushed off. She should be here by now." Moving to the stairs I look up. "You sure she isn't upstairs?"
"Dylan, she isn't back yet. Look did you two have a fight?"
"Something like that."
Sighing, Brandon moved into the lounge room picking up the cordless phone, "I was supposed to close tonight, but after you left it was dead so Nat sent me home. Bren may have gone there to find me."
Brandon rang Nat, but she hadn't been there. I began pacing by the windows, it offered the best view of the driveway and I would see the lights of the car as she pulled in. Sometime over the next fifteen minutes, Cindy and Jim came down the stairs. Brandon explained that Bren and I had had a fight, and she had driven off. I didn't correct him. I couldn't, they would kick me out.
I don't know when my eyesight moved from watching the drive way to the liquor cabinet, but it wasn't long before Jim had moved to lean against the desk, like some security guard. Ready to catch me if I made a move.
Both him and Jim tried to get me to tell them what had happened but all I could say was it was just a misunderstanding, and she rushed off before I could fix it. Cindy had started to call the others, to see if she was there. Someone up there must like me as Silver answered at his and Kel's place. No one had seen her. After an hour, Brandon convinced me to sit. About ten minutes later he started asking if I would like to speak to Ben. My eyes kept bouncing off the liquor cabinet and I think it was making them all nervous.
Bran had tried to be reassuring, advising everyone that Brenda was probably blowing off steam driving around. She'd be back soon as she hated driving late at night. Somewhere in the midst of his reassurance of her imminent arrival, and his continued suggestions that maybe I should call Ben, he asked if I would like to stay. That even when Bren returned home and we sorted this out, he didn't think I should be alone. I accepted of course. Once she was home I could figure out what she heard, and make it okay between us. I could then sleep knowing she was less than twenty feet away.
Looking for something to distract them from the worry, Brandon and Cindy went to make the cot. A few minutes later the phone rang. Jumping up I moved to answer, not even caring what Jim would think of such a gesture, but it stopped after one ring.
A few minutes later Bran came down the stairs. "It's Bren, she is okay. She is speaking to Mum now."
"I need to speak to her." Standing back up I moved to once again grab the phone, but Jim put his hand down over it.
"Dylan, let her speak to Cindy." Jim's tone left no room for negotiation.
Over the next few minutes I resumed my pacing, trying to figure out a logical explanation for the scene Brenda witnessed, something I could say if Cindy asked. It wasn't needed though. While Cindy came back down the stairs with a little less warmth in her eyes, she advised us that Brenda was fine and staying with friends. When I asked which friends as I began to pull my keys out, Cindy intervened in my plans of locating her.
"Dylan, give her space. Look whatever happened between you both can be sorted tomorrow. Right now I think it would be best if we all went to bed." My unwillingness to cooperate must have come across on my face, leading her to add an incentive to her suggestion. "Brenda thinks you should stay here tonight."
Taking a deep breath I returned the keys to my pocket. She wanted me to stay here, that was good. Maybe she hadn't heard anything through the door. Needing a little more reassurance of when I would see her again. I asked Cindy one last question. "Will she be back in the morning before school?"
Cindy sighed, "No, but I'm sure you'll see her at school. You know how Brenda hates to fall behind in her studies."
A few hours later I woke from a new nightmare. Haunted by Bren's eyes, I crept into her room. Her bed lay untouched, her room neatly organised. Turning on her bedside light, I looked around. We were everywhere in here. Our photos pinned amongst the cards I had given her, a flyer of Hello Day pinned by the tickets of concerts, dancers, of the play Love Letters I had taken her to see. For the first time in what felt like days I felt the panic start to retract. Everything in this room reminded me that she loved me. Moving to her wardrobe I opened the door. I don't know what I was looking for, but I was hit instantly by the smell of her. Closing my eyes I took a few deep breaths. I began to feel calm. Opening my eyes, I saw a bunch of Bren's sweater's sitting on the shelf and one caught my eye. Taking down the white turtleneck, I brought it to my nose. It smelled like her, though I hadn't seen her wearing it since our night nearly sixteen months ago, when sitting in my car by the beach she had left me. No that's not right, she never really left. It may have taken a few days but she had shown me that even when we weren't together she would always be there. She couldn't leave me either.
Closing the wardrobe door and turning off the light, I was tempted to lay down in here. I knew under different circumstances Bren wouldn't mind, we were used to sharing space. Hell, from her obsession with cleaning she knew my house better than I did. Tonight with her angry at me, I wouldn't give myself the privilege of laying in here. Still clutching the white sweater I moved back to Bran's room to once again lay in the cot. Holding tight I reassured myself that Bren would always be there.
The next morning I was compelled to take the sweater, it was becoming a talisman that everything would be fine. I wrapped it in my jacket smiling, when Bren forgave me she would tease me mercilessly about my clinginess, and most likely start wearing it every where as our own little joke. After folding up the cot and putting it away, I went downstairs. Bran was finishing up his shower but Jim and Cindy were in the kitchen. I thanked them for their kindness, and asked if Bren had called this morning. On hearing she hadn't, I asked them to tell Brandon I would see him at school, I had to go home and change. I didn't mention that I needed to call Kel and make sure she said nothing about the night before, or go anywhere near Bren.
It took till lunch time for me to realise that Bren wasn't coming. I had hoped she was just late or had been avoiding me, but when the gang hadn't seen her I knew she wasn't going to be there that day. I tried to leave then, but Mrs T had called me back as I went to get into my car. She didn't buy my excuse that I was sick, and advised that she would be checking that I made it to my next class.
I did manage to skip out of my study period, and a few minutes later I was pulling up out the front of Casa Walsh. Walking up the drive I noticed Cindy's car was by the garage, and I hoped that meant Bren was back. Looking past the car I noticed my girl laying on the lounge chair. A piece of furniture that held fond memories. It had been the place of many make out sessions. As I approached, I accidentally startled her from her writing, making her drop her pen. "Bren. You had me worried sick."
Closing her book, she slowly sat up and breathed out. "Dylan, please leave."
Moving closer I began to plead, "Bren, come on it's not what you think."
At that she stood up and looked at me in shock. "Sorry?"
"Look I don't know what you think you saw but Kel was upset. I was trying to calm her down." On finishing my sentence, I reached out to touch her arm but she moved past me in the direction of the house.
"Oh is that what happened?"
I managed to get in front of her and put my hands on her shoulders, trying to get her to look at me. "Bren she was upset, I'm sure she came over assuming you would be there."
At that she looked up at me and chuckled. "Well, that explains it." As she steps back, my arms fall. "How many more were there? I can't imagine a summer with my best friend was the first time you did this, or was it while I was away that you remembered that you preferred blondes?"
Fuck. Rubbing my hand through my hair, I began to beg. "Baby, it's not like that. You know you are the only one for me."
At that she began to make her way to the back door. Not being able to let her go I followed. "Bren please I messed up. It was a mistake." When she reached the door handle I had to do something. "Bren come on I forgave you, what about the guy in Paris?"
At that she paused and turned around. "You're right, my two days with a total stranger and a couple of chased kisses, is the same as your summer, weeks and weeks with my best friend doing god knows what. You hiding it from me for a month, lying to my face, having secret meetings with her, is exactly the same as the honesty I showed you when I immediately disclosed everything. Yep, Dylan we are exactly the same." The sarcasm and disdain was dripping off every word.
The only response I could muster was, "I never lied to your face."
At that she looked me straight in the eyes. "Sorry, whose earring was it again?"
She turned back around and pulled the door open. As she went to walk through she paused, and with steal in her voice she gave me one last blow. "Take your act somewhere else, we are over."