Authors Note: I own nothing. No ownership rights to Beverly Hills 90210.
Chapter Thirty
I reach my hand back into the limo, she gently places her hand in mine as she manoeuvres out of the car. When she is standing on the curb I smile at her, she looks beautiful.
"You ready?"
"Just… if I throw up, trip in my heels, begin to ramble, get to-"
"Breathe. Bab- Bren you've got this, and you won't need it but I've got you. Anything happens I've got your back." She squeezes my hand, the one she then drops as she turns to face one of the people obviously in charge of the carpet and indicate we are ready, my hand goes to her back. Her naked back that's been hidden by her shawl in the car. I lean close to her ear, "yeah I've got your back, your very bare back. Woman you make friendship a test in supper human strength." She giggles and I feel her body ease, she turns her head looking slightly over her shoulder at me. Her eyes are back to the sparkle that I thought only the beach gets these days.
"Thank you, I needed that confidence boost."
"No you didn't, you are magic and everyone is going to know by the time we get to those doors. You captured me with four words at that locker, let's see how many words it takes these guy's to fall under your spell."
"I'm glad you are here. I needed someone who knows… who knows all of me." As she turns back to the photographers who have been flashing their cameras since the moment we got out of the car, calling my name and then obviously being told hers as they start to shout out to both. As I face them and smile with my hand on her back I wonder if Josh is also a someone who knows all of her now? Does he know her better than me?
My thoughts, my depressing thoughts are interrupted as they ask to see the dress, she moves in my arms a hundred and eighty degrees- she's facing me now. It's caused my hand to move from its polite friendly state on her back to now hovering on her waist just above her hip. It makes me smirk as she looks over her shoulder at the cameras. "This photo is going to make the cover of… everything."
She begins to turn back around, "you're exaggerating."
Following her lead, with my hand back on her back we move past the photographer's to the report's, a PR person leads the way. I wasn't exaggerating but I didn't have the heart to burst that bubble.
The first reporter is from ET obviously gaining prime position to see everyone as they arrive and get the first interview. The PR person had briefed them on her characters name and the details of the show, Brenda answers all her questions beautifully and has the interviewer laughing and smiling in less than a minute.
"Okay now for the really important stuff. Who are you wearing and how long have you been with Dylan McKay?"
"Todd Oldham." Then she looks over at me with a teasing smile- we knew it was coming, "Mr McKay and I are friends, close friends."
In return I give her my sexy smile, "the closest."
The reporter latches on, "Mr McKay my friends don't look at me the way you two are, are we sure there isn't something more? Has there ever been more?"
"Now that would be telling." My eyes move from my girl to the reporter. "I'm just here to support my best friend, and celebrate the start of what I'm sure is going to be a must see show."
"Is the McKay finances backing it?"
Bren stiffens, "no. Unfortunately, they weren't looking for financing, the studio knows they've got a great thing and aren't willing to share the spoils." I look at Bren and jokingly say, "maybe I can jump in on the merchandise, fund the lunch boxes with your picture maybe a doll?"
"Yeah, there will be no doll. I can only imagine what my brother's will do, it would be like where's Wally throughout the campus."
I laugh, she was so right, "oh for that alone it would be worth it. Where's Bren could be the new favourite game but in real life."
Before she can shoot me a smart ass response back, the reporter who we have all but forgotten by now interrupts our fun. "Bren? Is that what you go by?"
She turns back and gives the reporter her best roll of the eyes, "no my twin brother and Dylan are the only one's who call me that. They both have an obsession with nicknames."
"Baby we do not!" It's out of my mouth before I realise it. Shit, I was getting too comfortable and I never get comfortable around reporters- it was her. Having her so close, finally, being her person for the night. Touching skin that is usually covered to me now.
"See, obsessed. Thanks for proving my point." It's jokey, it's light, and thankfully it's then that the PR person interrupts us as there is a line of interviews waiting ahead of us.
We say our goodbyes and move to the next person the PR lady is guiding us to, I lean in and whisper into her ear as we wait for the PR person to remind the reporter about the details of the show and Bren's character. "Sorry."
She quietly murmurs. "It's okay. It was an accident."
The next few interviews go well, she's charming, funny and demonstrates grace in referencing the amazing team in front and behind the camera. They of course ask questions to me, how long have we known each other- we answer that truthfully; have we ever dated- we talk around that; how did we meet- truth for that as well, we even tell the story of the hair dye, she leaves out the butt reference- I remind her of that as we move away. She laughs out loud at my outrage that that was an essential part she left out.
The cameras capture us the whole time, us going from one person to another, us waiting for another cast member to finish up their interviews whispering to each other, her introducing me to cast members.
The red carpet was an hour experience and it was all captured, even the moment the LA news reporter asked her if she knew my late father. She reaches out behind her for my other hand then, the one that is not resting on her back gently rubbing her skin with my knuckles. "Yes, I met Jack. Very briefly too briefly." I hate that, it makes her role in our family seem new not as significant. It makes me open up more than I usually would.
"He knew all about her though, she was usually the second question he asked me about when I'd see him. How are you son? And how's that girl of yours?" I say it in my attempt at his rich voice, I say it without realising I just confirmed that we were together, had been. Bren doesn't look to be worried about that she doesn't stiffen, she just squeezes my hand. I try and bring it on track. "This role is obviously perfect for her. She's spent the last seven months helping me through my grief, she even arranged the funeral for him. She understands the feeling of loss, of having to try and move forward when you don't like the new reality that fate has given you. How all you want is to go back and change it all. Wake up from the nightmare. This character is perfect for her, a compassionate woman who loves her family and is trying to be supportive in a world no longer familiar to her." As I speak I reflect that everything I'm saying is true, her grief was because of me and yet she still strived to help support mine over Jack.
"Wow. That's high praise Mr McKay, it sounds like you couldn't have got through your loss without her."
"I couldn't have." She squeezes my hand in comfort. Thankfully the PR lady moved us onto MTV after that.
It's only at the end of the carpet that the whole cast does a group shot out the front of the building joined even by the little baby toddler- he was small. We begin to move inside only after the little guy lost his marbles on the carpet because he refused to leave his big tv sister's arms after the picture was taken when his dad came to get him, resulting in me coming over and playing pick a boo over her shoulder to get him to smile again. While Bren laughed with the Dad that it's the hair he's missed playing with it. He had smiled and said I think it's more you reading him his story books while he has his bottle. When he then grabs hold of a large loss curl I come up even closer behind her and reach around her gently removing the lock from the toddler's death grip. Bren laughing at the little guy the whole time, and me explaining that dude that's not how you impress the ladies you like.
Getting inside the lenses are away, except for the official photographer hired by the network. It's then a little more casual. The night goes by with conversations with the cast about how they have been, Bren hugging the crew members who were invited. Introducing so many people that their names become too many for me to remember, it's either the job description or the name my mind becomes too full to remember both. Everyone wants to talk to her because they to have seen the magical person she is.
Throughout the night she keeps me included in everything. She talks about our classes or about Baja, when one of the cast says they just got back. We move through the crowd and only when she needs a break do we move onto the dance floor. By the time we are in the car on the way home, we are both exhausted.
"My feet. I'll never be able to walk again." I give a light chuckle at my drama Queen, and then move to the seat across from her and indicate for her to pass them over. I remove her heels and when her feet are in my hands I begin to rub while she once again covers her shoulders in the wrap she left in the car- Bren always finds air conditioning a little too cold. "Oh my god. I forgot how good you are at that." Her eyes are closed and she moans, "seriously you could go into business."
My chuckle has her opening one eye, "not interested? You could make millions."
"I like your feet, no one else's."
Her head tilts, both eyes are open. "You never did this to anyone else?"
"Nope. A lot of us was my first's as well. Bren I didn't date anyone before you, I hung out with people once or twice but nothing more than that. You know you were my first girlfriend, and touching a girls feet to give this comfort didn't even cross my mind till you." It's a shame there is a number in front of that title, that I can no longer say my only girlfriend and she can't say the same thing about me either- that's on me, my fault.
She quickly sits up and takes her feet from my lap. "Thank you they're better now."
I'm not sure if it's the title that has changed the mood in the limo but our relaxed easy going, a relaxed easy going that all evening made us appear like we were in junior year just without the kissing- it's gone.
"Bren?" The question on what's changed is left unasked but it's wrapped around her name.
She makes me wait, as she plays with her ring. I know she isn't avoiding it, she is trying to put words to her feelings- it makes the mood even thicker. "I'm taking advantage. I don't want to do that, and I feel like I am."
"You aren't-"
"Dyl, I am. I'm going to go home and ring Josh and see if he received my message about tonight, I'm going to listen as he tells me about the competition. I'm going to do that even though… I'm taking advantage. Friends don't massage feet you even just said that- you did it for your girlfriend no one else. They don't rub backs for an hour or hold hips… they don't stop past the restroom to brush their hair and check their lipstick before class-" I want to smile at the last one but I'm scared that it will feed her new insecurity, her worry.
"Bren we aren't normal friends, we aren't friends like that. We are the closest friends we can be."
"What does that mean? If you were in Josh's position would you like me having this relationship with someone else being the closest of friends?" I don't say anything she knows I would hate it, but we aren't just anyone. "Months you didn't cross the line with her, but you walked it- you walked this line once I got back, after you wanted to stay together. You walked this with her being too close, too close of friends. Since school came back, tonight- I'm too close to that line and I can't be..."
"You can't be me, what I turned into."
Her hand running through hair reflects the frustration that she is feeling, that is starting to pour out of her pores. "Dyl… I can't pretend that this is a normal friendship or that it's still going in that direction, and that's not fair to you, him or me."
"Bren we won't cross that line."
"Whose line? Josh's? Ours? You know me better than anyone else- you know me in ways that no one else does. Dylan tonight… tonight I even forgot what we were. I forgot that I'm not allowed to touch your hand when I want, lean into you. I'm no longer supposed to like your hand on my skin, let you rub my feet-"
I lean forward in my seat till our knees are touching across the limo. I pick up her hands and hold them in mine. "You are allowed. Baby it's yours, I'm yours-"
"You aren't."
"Just because you don't want it to be true it doesn't make it any less real, I'll forever be yours. Whether we stay only friends, if we both find other people, I'm always going to be yours and you are always going to be… that amount of love it doesn't go away. It's like the ocean. It has tides, it has high and low tide. I didn't know that before and we should have realised that, Cardio funk, me focusing on rescuing Betty- it was our low tide, it was followed by a king tide. It wiped out the beach and everything in its path. When the tide went out from that it felt less somehow but it wasn't, it was still the same, it was just recorrecting."
I squeeze her hands, "we are never going to be able to not love each other, I get that, but I think you need to as well. You can't control the tide, the water will always be there- our beach will always be our favourite place, our home. Even if you we try and stand a little further from the water, our beach it doesn't leave us. Our water is infinite."
I place her hands back on her lap, I do it because the thought to bring them to my lips and kiss them is irresistible- I need distance to stop myself. "Now our relationship, our friendship is nothing like hers and mine back then. We weren't this, we weren't close friends I'm not even sure you could call us friends- we didn't talk about our feelings, well I didn't, we weren't real. She made herself be someone she wasn't and I hated myself hated everything that I was, it wasn't friendship it was two people trying to escape feeling like shit. You can't run from that though, not when that feeling lives inside you. You can though try and distract yourself away from it. We were distractions to each other, there is nothing close in that."
"The line that you are worried about you're right it's different with us, because it's not a line like other peoples. We can't be measured the same. We know each other better than anyone else, our bodies are made for each other, we won't ever be normal friends because that's not something that we have control over. I can't stop knowing you, knowing what a look means, knowing what your finger tapping right now means. I can't stop that, and you can't stop that with me. I can though respect where your head is at, I can respect that you are with Josh and if he is what you feel like you need right now I can respect that. We won't ever cross the line, I'll never kiss you, tell you I love you, I'll never tell you how much I hate his hands on you. I'll never even let the water touch your skin. And I'll never be anything more than your friend unless you tell me otherwise, but I can't be a normal friend, I'm always going to be your closest friend. Whoever you are with, whoever I may be with will have to accept that."
"We could… we could go back to not seeing each other?" No. No that's not going to happen. I take a gamble.
"I just spent three months away from you, we spent weeks at a time away from each other before that. In seven months we've seen each other less than what thirty times? Did it help you? Did it lessen it for you? Was I far from your thoughts?"
It's another waiting game, I know the answer, I have faith in the answer but it depends if she is willing to see it admit it.
She shakes her head.
Thank god. "Bren see it doesn't matter even when we deny ourselves physically deny all our physical contact it changes nothing, except makes us feel a little less whole."
She leans forward and breathes out putting her head in her hands, "you are right. So what do I do? What do we do?"
Be together. Get married. Buy a house on the beach. Have lots of babies.
She doesn't want me back though, her head isn't convinced it's good for her. "We don't apologise for how we are, we don't feel guilty for us needing our friendship. We cross no lines emotionally- we don't discuss emotions for each other, physically- I'll resist myself from massaging your feet. Bren we are friends, you know we are friends, believe me if we were more I'd be over the moon. If we were more than friends I wouldn't be frustrated that I'm going to only walk you to the foyer of your building, to the elevator. I hate that I can't walk you to your front door but that's too date like, and don't even get me started on why we need two stops, two beds, two places."
It's my turn to get frustrated and rub my hand through my hair. "We won't talk about that though. We will move away like I did the other day, when conversations get too hard. We will practice self preservation rather than get upset, because I can't have the alternative and you can't either. We can't give each other up, but we can ensure not to infringe on certain boundaries. I'll never give you pause to feel bad. I'll never allow you to feel like I did. Though we have to accept that the same rules do not apply for us."
The next morning I'm sitting in class waiting with two coffees thinking about her agreement, her renewed conviction that we can make this work. Be close friends and not feel guilt. When a paper lands in front of me on the desk. "Page eleven. Front of the entertainment section." I turn the pages as she sits and drinks her coffee. Shit. It's it's bad. "I'm thinking that we may need to reconsider what rules don't apply."
My swallow is audible as I read the heading one more time, The Millionaire and the Hot New Actress.
Quote's are in a bold font emphasising their significance throughout the article. "She has spent the last seven months helping me through my grief." "It was the second question… how's that girl of yours?"
Photos of me with my arms around her with the baby in her arms. The reporter's rhetorical question underneath that photo. The comment the Dad made about how good we were with his kid.
Photos, many photos of me looking at her with love and her eyes returning it.
Hands on hips.
Comments about me touching her the whole time.
Calling her Baby- I didn't even say it to the LA newspaper reporter.
It's a full on piece, captured like this it looks… it looks questionable.
The next page at least is a double spread of the cast pictures, hype for the show. We are in those pages as well. Though surrounded by the rest it doesn't look so bad.
"Bren. Are the producers mad?"
"No, they are the ones to send the advanced copy with flowers and a thank you note this morning. They are thrilled because they think it means even more story's today. Josh, his Dad and step-mum, his mum… how do I explain this?"
"Everyone of those photos were harmless. There is a reason behind each, you did nothing wrong."
"It doesn't feel like it. Dyl, how do I explain these to Josh? He doesn't deserve this. Put yourself in his shoes and you were my boyfriend-"
"Bren it's different it's not the same. These photos show two people who know each other really well, better than anyone else. If this was you with a stranger then yeah Josh should definitely be upset because the question would be how you became that close that comfortable while you were with someone else. He doesn't need to ask that, he knows the how and when, he knows it's before you even knew his name. He also knows how much I hurt you, how you'll never hurt someone the same way."
"It looks bad."
"Not great… though I think you look hot in all of these."
Her laugh bursts out before she can stop it.