Dylan stood at the bar with a tumbler of scotch in his hands, he swirled the amber liquid watching as it coated the sides of the glass. It was taking every ounce of his will power not to drink it. Brenda Walsh had saved him from alcoholism once upon a time and now the memory of her was threatening to tip him off the wagon. He'd always known that one day he'd have to face her again, to explain why he'd left her in London and why he hadn't come to find her when she'd moved to New York.
Brenda had recognised Dylan's profile the second she laid eyes on him, she wasn't sure that she would after all these years but it was as if he hadn't changed. The line of his broad shoulders, his strong muscular back, the way his hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck, it was all exactly the same as the young man she remembered, Brenda's hands tingled with an ache to reach out and touch him. Then she noticed the glass in his hands, without thinking she stepped towards him and reached out to touch the tumbler.
Dylan felt Brenda's presence before he saw her, like the air changed around him, everything became blurred and muted, the only clarity came from the small white hand against his on the tumbler. As their skin touched she pulled away as if she'd been electrocuted.
"Sorry." She mumbled, her eyes looking down at the glass.
"Bren?" Dylan managed to put a thousand questions into the one word and Brenda wasn't sure she knew the answer to any of them.
"Hi Dylan." Brenda felt almost shy under his gaze, his eyes told a story that went far beyond his twenty-eight years and she wasn't sure she wanted to meet them. She'd come so close, so many times to picking up the phone and calling him, that now he was right in front of her she didn't know what to say.
"You look good." Dylan felt weird, he couldn't believe how little she had changed, her hair was sleeker and eyes were wiser but she still looked like 'his Brenda'. It was like being transported back into high school and he had to stop himself from pulling her into his arms and kissing her. She was making him nervous, standing there trying not to look at him. He pulled out a bar stool. "Sit down Bren, I don't bite."
"That's not how I remember it," Brenda regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth and she felt a flush creep across her face. Dylan smiled, he loved the way Brenda blushed when she was flustered, it proved to him that despite her sophisticated image she wasn't as together as she looked. Brenda caught Dylan's eye and smiled back, for a second it was as if they weren't separated by a chasm of unsaid truths and broken promises, she sat down next to him and ordered a mineral water.
"You can have a drink if you want, don't worry about me." Dylan was surprised that Brenda wasn't drinking.
"Thanks Dylan, but I'm really not that much of a drinker, too many bad memories associated with alcohol." Brenda sipped her water and tilted her head slightly to get a better look at him. "You look good." She meant it he looked so much like 'her Dylan' that she couldn't believe how much time had passed since she'd last been near him.
"I feel good, I'm finally in a good place in my life. How about you? I didn't think I'd ever see you in Beverly Hills again."
"To be honest neither did I, but when I got Donna's invite I got this urge to stop running and come home. Brandon says I'm finally growing up." Brenda smiled wryly. "I can't believe how much everyone's changed, I guess I kept Beverly Hills in a bubble and thought it would be exactly the same as I left it."
"Are you disappointed that it's not?" Dylan watched as Brenda shifted uncomfortably, he didn't want to push her but at the same time he was scared that if he stopped asking questions she'd disappear.
"I'm pleased for everyone, from what Brandon's told me the whole gang's doing really well." Brenda smiled.
"Yeah we are, it's you that's the mystery. How long are you back in LA?" "Three months, I've got a job on a TV series, just eight episodes but combined with the reunion it gave me the kick I needed to actually get on the plane."
"That's great Bren, congratulations." Dylan was genuinely happy for her.
"Thanks, I hear you've not done to badly, I gather that you now
own the
Bel-Age hotel rather than live in it, and you own the
Peach Pit amongst other places." Brenda was really pleased that
Dylan had done well, there had been a moment in their past when she'd
been scared he wouldn't make their ten year reunion, that she'd
be going to his funeral instead.
"Yeah the hotel reopens next week, The London West Hollywood, new name, new start, I guess I'm laying some old demons to rest, and it seems I have a knack for business, I guess I learnt something from all those years watching those men in suits that used to hang around with my dad." Dylan felt uncomfortable talking about himself but at the same time he couldn't help but feel proud of how he'd turned his life around.
"Good for you Dylan, I mean it, you've come a long way since we were last together." Brenda meant the words but she felt her throat stick when she thought about the last time she'd seen Dylan.