Authors Note: I own nothing. No ownership rights to Beverly Hills 90210.
Chapter Two: Finding normal
I left his place and made it back to my house, the one I had yet to call home. In my heart I kept thinking it wouldn't be home until we were both in it. Six weeks living together and I had been hooked; waking up next to him, in his arms, or with his lingering Dylan smell on the sheets. It was a smell only beaten by the one created from the mix of him freshly showered and the scent of his aftershave just added to his skin. For the first five weeks I'd always make sure to leave something in our room in the mornings, providing me a reason to run back in once he came out dressed for the day. Entering the room I'd then take a moment to indulge, breathe him in. The last week I had been able to feed that particular craving straight from the source. That was our second kiss for the day and one that had always gotten heated quickly. That scent was a beacon for my hormones to rage and flood my system in desire. Those moments would now never happen in this house.
Looking around this big place, even with him never setting foot in it so much of it reminded me of him. I had chosen a big beautiful linen couch for the main room, extra long so he could comfortably spread out like he was prone to do. Across sat an arm chair, on seeing it I had immediately imagined him in it reading. Adjacent to the baby grand piano was the entry way to the room I had designated as a library, it had floor to ceiling shelving across three walls. Currently, the books in the room were sparse, knowing that when Dylan moved in the shelves would fill with his collection and then whatever we accumulated over the years. I guess that would be my job alone now.
This was always going to be an option, intellectually I knew that, I had discussed it with people, but I never really thought he would take it. I never imagined it would be over. Him angry, hurt, not speaking to me for a few days, needing time to process, run into my arms and be excited were all scenarios that I had played out in my mind. Though the end result was always the same whether it was instantaneous or took a few days, at most a few weeks, this was supposed to be our home. Now it never would be. I could feel the devastation rise up, it would move into each limb and cloud my mind in a minute, but I pushed it down, trapped it somewhere in my nauseous belly. Knowing I couldn't give in yet things had to be done.
Moving into my office I immediately went to call my Mum, but it was still early she would be out at that park volunteering group till five. Leaving me to communicate this change to my father at his office. I rang and explained that Dylan had chosen that this life was not for him, he was shocked. My Dad's newly found acceptance of Dylan and I shone through, when he tried to reason that maybe it was just a lot for him to hear all at once, that with time he'd change his mind. He asked how I had broken the news.
"Dad he already knew."
"How? He hadn't known last night. At dinner he was excited his Doctor had indicated just yesterday afternoon that maybe he would be ready to see you, that the intensive therapy was nearly over. Sweetheart he was on cloud nine."
"Wait his therapy wasn't over?"
"No, not unless at his two pm double session today she had green lighted him."
"What? Dad, I got the phone call at like twenty past two today telling me to go to his house."
"I don't know sweetheart, maybe she decided when he got there that it was time."
"Why wouldn't she have just said that yesterday, or this morning when I called her? If today's session wasn't needed then why the delay?"
"I don't know… maybe with him finding out she felt that it was time." He sighs. "He was having breakfast this morning with the guy's, maybe they gave something away."
"Yeah, maybe. Though they would have called if he figured it out with them."
"So it must have happened during the day then." He pauses. "Oh no."
"What Dad?"
"Dylan and Brandon have double AP English together before lunch. Dylan loves the class and his teacher, he raves about it constantly."
"Shit."
"Brenda!" Yeah this was a swearing moment, I just needed to help my Dad figure out why.
"Dad, if Brandon knows but had found out from an angry Dylan…"
He connects the dots. "Then the whole gang may know from an angry Brandon."
My voice switches to my business tone. "The label will lose their marbles. I'll need NDA's to go to all of them immediately."
My Dad switches into his no nonsense client tone. "Okay what do you want to do?"
"Where's Brandon? Is he working the afternoon shift as usual?"
"Yes, he should be at The Pit till seven. Do you want me to call him?"
"No let me, I should be able to figure out if and how much he knows. Even if we aren't talking I'm sure it would still be less strange than you calling him at work to discuss Dylan."
"Okay, will you call me back? I'll start packing up in case I need to get home, and well I guess deliver NDA's to all the gang and their families."
"Thank you Dad. Stay by your phone, if he knows I doubt it will be a long conversation."
Hanging up the phone, I sat for a moment and ran my hand through my hair. The desire to crawl into bed took over, I felt exhausted. If I had to deal with an angry Brandon on top of my afternoon, that was it I was going to run far far away. Away from him, this house, this dream of a life. I was going to run until it stopped hurting. For the first time it actually felt all too much.
I took a calming breath and then called the familiar number. Nat picked up and after a little small talk he finally put my brother on the phone.
"Hi Brandon."
"Brenda, I was expecting you to call. Everything okay?"
"You were expecting me, why?" Shit. Shit. Alarm bells started sounding in my head.
"I… well I got pretty anxious a bit over an hour ago for no reason, and then I felt something else…" He always got a little awkward about our bond, but the sixth sense of the other was an unusual sensation when it forced its way into our conscious state. Feeling even an echo of my emotions at Dylan's would have caused him to pause. The anxiety was one thing, but the intense hit of devastation I didn't have words for that.
"Yeah and then…"
"Well it was either a heart attack or…" he couldn't put words to that pain either. "I didn't even feel that way the night you found out. I'm guessing it's bad." That night the shock had tampered down some of my extreme emotions, or maybe it was my instincts kicking in to break the pain off into bite size pieces to keep me functioning for the weeks ahead.
"Yeah."
"Is it over for good this time?"
"Mmm." I couldn't say it. I could tell my Dad that he didnt want the public life, I could toy with the idea this wouldn't be our home, but to give a definitive answer and say it loudly, give it oxygen, I wasn't that strong.
"What happened? We don't talk the same as we used to, but since I was driving him around we are friendlier. He's been happier this week, and well I thought he was getting better. Mum said this morning that she thought you would be coming by soon." Thank God he doesn't know. Then I processed what he said… what driving him?
"Wait you were driving him around. Did he have an accident and no one told me?"
"No, no accident. He was fine. Well he wasn't, but I was driving him because of the lack of sleep, it got pretty bad for a bit there. His Doctor banned him from driving, feared he might have an accident, fall asleep at the wheel. I volunteered to drive him to and from school." He got so bad that he wasn't allowed to drive. What had happened this month?
After Vegas and December Brandon's actions were surprising though. "Really, you did that? He's not your favourite person."
"He is one of them- my brother. Well that is when he's not sick and obsessed with you. Though he is your favourite regardless, so I…" he pauses, was he finally going to apologise? "You are my twin, I assumed you would want me to help." No apology though his action still meant a lot.
"Thanks Brandon."
"You haven't told me what happened," he sighs. "But I guess you don't want to talk about it. I handled this badly last time, but if you want I can bring ice-cream, rent Dirty Dancing, you know whatever you need."
"Thank you, but no." He was trying, it wasn't an apology but it was effort. "Maybe another time."
"Do you want me to go check on him?" Did I? Yes. No. Maybe. Should I call Ray or Paul they could talk it through with him? He might want to be alone, should he be though?
"I don't know."
"That's a first." If there had been malice in his tone I wouldn't have asked but he sounded genuinely surprised.
"What's a first?"
"Well, even last time after you found out about the summer you wanted him to stay at the house. You were worried about him even after that. You tend to do that, arrange his support for him." He's right I do. I started doing it when he left our home injured after his surfing accident that summer, and since then I had sent Brandon so many times to be there for Dylan, when I couldn't be the person to do it. I had even pushed for Iris to come stay this time- to help. I had told my parents that Sunday afternoon back in November, knowing that they would have gone to him after hearing my concerns. I had even asked Kelly last summer to keep an eye on him. On that one I should have been a little more specific, maybe clarified that it meant no hands or any other body part. My brother was right though, I was always pushing support on Dylan before he had even asked for help.
The first three steps of the program required him to admit, believe and decide. I was stopping that occurring. Every time I stepped in preventing a potential fall I stopped him from admitting, deciding he didn't want to live that way. Kelly once said to me I had to let him hit bottom, that he needed to do it otherwise he'd never stop. Even then I had never let that happen. I had given him an ultimatum though me or booze. His sobriety had been based on his decision that he couldn't lose me, it hadn't been for him. I closed my eyes to the realisation. No wonder he had transferred his addiction into a need for me. He hadn't learnt how to do it alone, for himself. And then when life got hard he clung to me more, because he didn't have the proper foundation to make the program work. He had never found it in himself, the strength and the confidence of working it daily that he could do it, that he was capable even without me. Fuck.
"Bren you there?"
"Yeah sorry. No let him be, if he needs it he will need to ask for help himself." I looked at the time my Dad was waiting. "Brandon I better run and I'm sure Nat wants you back to work." I pause wondering how to say goodbye. "I'll see you at the house I guess."
"Are you moving back in?" He sounded hopeful.
"No but I'll be over next week for dinner." Brandon was only home for dinner time on Wednesday's and over the weekend, if he had no plans. He had tried this month while I was avoiding everyone and he had tried in this conversation, I could give a little. "I'll see you on Wednesday night for dinner."
From his tone he got what I was trying to say. "See you then."
I rang my Dad and filled him on the fact that Dylan hadn't said anything. He asked what happens now? Should they uninvite him and Iris to their standard Dinner nights, gradually step back from the family position they had given him? It was like a divorce had taken place, if it wasn't so heartbreaking I'd laugh.
"No Dad just… Dylan will always be my family, I'd like to think that would make him yours as well. He and I will need to figure out how this looks, if it will look like anything or how a friendship could work. As for the house could you guys let him for the time being decide what he is comfortable with, find his normal?" I breathe deep. "I'm going to take the weekend then I guess start to find my own. Please let Mum and Iris know, they'll worry after today."
"Okay. I love you Honey."
"I love you too Dad. Bye."
After putting the receiver down I sat for a moment in my new awareness. Dylan hadn't hit bottom since we met, each time it was even close I stepped or had someone else step in, preventing that potential. Even seeking medical help had been at the urging of my mother, with my silent hand encouraging him to accept. Dylan had surrendered control to me of this part of his life, and why wouldn't he, no one had ever taken care of him before. Everyone else had abandoned him when he got bad, or like Jack had kicked him out. Not me. Those few weeks of him drinking I had taken care of him and tried to keep him even functioning a little in that state. On the porch though I had threatened, well told him I'd be forced to leave him if he didn't get his addiction under control. He never drank again. It was little surprise then that the night of the holdup had triggered a subconscious response, in fear of both his love and the source of his sobriety leaving him.
In that moment I realised I had to stop. Stop fixing things for him. Regardless of why his Doctor decided to stop today's session, regardless of how he found out, and if he made the decision in sound mind, I had to stop. Stop enabling him. It was time to let him find his own strength, he'd never believe it was there until he did.
Leaving my study I decided it was time to take the lid off, let the devastation be felt. It took till Sunday evening when I was walking on the private beach that I share with a handful of neighbours, that I was able to reign it back in. After containing it I then began pushing it back down, till it had no where else to go but seep out into the water that was swirling around my feet. It was at that moment I decided it was time to accept a life, whether permanent or not, without us being together.
Arriving on Monday to the elementary school was awkward. By then they knew, but I soon realised from their questions they knew nothing beyond a decision had been made. Unsurprisingly, he was keeping our relationship confidential. A clear reminder that I was wanting him to break a fiercely held value by accepting this life.
Iris on seeing me gave me a hug and whispered. "He gets his set ways from his father. Though remember it's just another moment in a long life time between you two." It was clear she held out hope that this could be fixed.
My first smile since Friday came from Sam's boisterous "Ms Jem, I want to read this," as he came running towards our playground reading area. His cartoon while not part of the set reading program became the joy of my morning. Sam maintained his enthusiasm throughout our session even when he struggled, it reminded me that even struggle and hardship could be perceived differently with the right mindset. It was time to change my mindset and get back to work.
That night I invited the guy's over for dinner and to finalise the tour. It was decided that it was time to go big. A summer full of big venue dates across the US, Europe and Asia. The label were thrilled. It would mean in the coming weeks I'd have to add set stage design meetings, personal training, and voice lessons to my schedule. The latter two to ensure I could keep up with the physical demands of the tour and performing for hours each night in big venues. The label also gave me a list of names, Director's who could help me put the show together. The guy's began coming over each day for recording sessions as I had accumulated a few new songs over Christmas that needed to be laid, and had written a new song for David and I. In our weekly phone conversations he had been lamenting that he missed being in the studio with me. Deciding to record a few different vocal versions of the track I had then sent it on to him in Hong Kong as a gift for him to mix.
Between volunteering, work, school work, and my Wednesday Family dinner the first week past not with ease but at least with a level of stability. The second week though did not run as smooth. Iris received word from her neighbour on the Saturday that her house in Hawaii had experienced significant storm damage. Needing to arrange the repairs and an insurance claim she flew out that night. It required me to replace her for the volunteer program for the week. I rang Mum who suggested Mrs Asher, Felice or Jackie. She offered to call the list until she found one available but I declined, these were my programs, commitments, responsibilities. The first two were unfortunately busy but Jackie was thrilled to take part, especially when I advised that Erin would be welcome to come along.
On the Tuesday, I was required for the first time that semester to attend class. One of my teachers wanted me to take part in a group research project and presentation. I would be required on campus for a couple of hours each day that week, attending the period two class and period four study with my group. While I was less than thrilled it did mean I could begin co-chairing the prom committee. Mrs T also wanted a chair on campus in case issues needed immediate attention, Donna had accepted the co-chair role at Mrs T's offering.
It took till the Wednesday that are paths crossed, literally.
"Shit, I'm sorry."
"No problem blind corne…" Having just been knocked from my axis it took me a second to look up. "Oh hey."
"Hey. I wasn't expecting to see you here." He seemed as if he was taken off guard or did he just want to avoid me forever?
"Disappointed?"
"Hardly." He gave me a weak smile like his muscles weren't used to the expression. "Are you missing the West Bev campus that much you felt you needed to stop by?"
"Surprisingly, I was a little nostalgic but it wore off in about ten minutes yesterday."
"It took that long? You have been missing it then." The tap of his books on his thigh told me he was nervous. "So just grabbing notes or something?"
"Mr Vallon set a group project as part of my semester grade, it means I have to be in this week." Trying to fill the awkward gap I decide to cover all my campus activities. "Though it does give me a chance to begin co-chairing the prom committee."
"Seriously?" His face took on a look of concern. "You've got a lot on, coming up, you don't want to burn yourself out like you did before chris…" He stopped finally realising what he was saying. "Shit sorry I guess it's none of my business."
"No it's fine, friends can show concern." He rubs his free hand against the back of his neck.
"Yeah. Is it weird to say, I don't think I know how to be your friend?" I laugh.
"No I have no idea either." We are silent for a moment so I begin to look around, not because I wanted to leave but rather to fill the awkward air that had settled around us.
"This is silly, Bren do you have time to grab a soda or something?"
"Sure." He looks surprised that I had agreed.
As we made our way to the machine he asks about my new co-curricular.
"So co-chairing prom?" He scrunches his face in confusion.
"What do you think someone with my job wouldn't be interested in that?"
"Well, yeah."
"I thought I'd be on campus the full year have all the senior moments with everyone. My year isn't working out how I planned but this allows me to still have some of those moments."
As we make it to the quad with our drinks, I decide to change the subject from my melancholy response.
"Have you heard from Iris?"
"Yeah her place is a little beat up along with many on her section of the island. She's struggling to find a contractor so she'll need to stay a little longer." I was about to ask if he would be okay by himself but stopped myself. If he wasn't he needed to learn to identify that and ask for help.
"Well, I guess I'll see if Jackie wants to continue filling in for Iris at the school. She enjoyed it on Monday and the kids loved reading to baby Erin." He appeared uncomfortable but I could see the moment he decided to ask it anyway.
"Is that weird, you and Jackie? I mean I'm completely to blame, but you know with Kelly and you not being friends anymore."
"Yes kind of, but she's Mum's friend and well Mum hasn't got a lot of people in Beverly Hills. She used to be that mum who was Ms Popular, you should have seen her with Val's Mum. Cindy was known back then to get- well Cindy Walsh wild." I took a sip of my drink and then approach the heavy part of his statement. "Dylan you aren't completely to blame. Kelly played a part and knew what she was doing over the summer and at the start of the year. She made that choice to take a shot at you and knew it would mean losing me. I'm guessing you may have a better understanding on how I feel about her choice now." He laughs.
"Yeah maybe a little of your anger came through on that track."
I put up my thumb and pointer and hold them half an inch apart. "Just a smidge."
He mimics me but puts his a little further apart, "mmm maybe a little more than a smidge." When he gradually expands them to reach his maximum span I whack his shoulder in protest. He laughs and puts his hand up in surrender. "Hey it was well deserved, and I think I got off lightly with my mocking song in comparison."
"Hey you got the bridge in that angry one."
"True." He is smiling even in referencing my music, what he perceived as an invasion of his our privacy less than two weeks ago.
"You seem a little more okay about them now."
"I'm getting there, some are harder to take. The ones when you put voice to my thoughts, or Ray puts voice to them, and the one's when you can't see a point of forgiveness, they are harder to listen to now knowing they are about me."
"You know I got to that point though?" He kicks his feet out and gives them his focus.
"Yeah but you were done, I think me being sick forced it on you." Is that what he thought, that I felt sorry for him?
"It may have put you in my proximity Dylan but the forgiveness came from me. It was my choice."
"Thanks it's good to know." The bell rings, he finally looks up. "I should probably get to class. Are you going to be here for lunch?" He once again appears nervous. "Maybe we could eat together if you want?"
With an apologetic tone I respond. "No sorry, I have to run straight after the study."
"Recording?"
"No marketing meeting for the tour."
He seems surprised, "you have to sit in on all of them?"
"The label are my distributor nothing more. I own everything and have reinvested in myself from the get go, it allows me to maintain control. The more I sell the more money the label makes with hardly any investment. It can make them want to present me in a way I'm never going to be comfortable with to gain a more immediate audience. Even without my image being used I don't want to be passed off as a sexualised barbie doll. I attend everything so everything is approved by me." I try and make light of the business talk— knowing that this is what has stopped us from resuming our relationship. "And don't say it's my OCD."
He didn't bite but rather looks impressed, "Jack is right you do have a head for business." Just then he looks at the time, "I have to go." He looks unmotivated, hesitant to leave.
"Go. I might see you on campus later this week."
That night at my second family dinner Brandon try's to engage me in conversation about work. I toed the line between honesty and presenting only partial truths knowing it would mislead him. My Mum and Dad made no comment but did ask later when he had gone upstairs to work on an essay, when was I planning on telling him. They reluctantly accepted that until he had apologised and our relationship had healed it wasn't a risk I was willing to take.
Thursday the prom committee kept me busy during my break time on campus with the debate over venues. The BelAge won. I abstained from the vote unsure if I wanted another dance there without Dylan. On Friday we didn't see each other either as I had to leave after my period two presentation for a meeting with my lawyer.
By some sort of silent mutual understanding everyone knew that I didn't want to get involved in their relationships with Dylan. Leaving my unaware if the dinners with Dylan had continued. The guy's still went over on Tuesday night but they had never advised me if he was there. Instead choosing to rave about my Mother's cooking the next day. We had begun filling parts of our day recording, rehearsing, and videoing potential line up's. At night I would review the tapes to see if the set we had played that day, the transition in songs made sense.
At the beginning of the third week the news reported that Jack had been released from prison early for good behaviour. I was going to reach out to him but was unsure if he was staying at Dylan's. I considered calling Dylan to see if he was okay with this change of events but decided if he wasn't he'd need to let me or someone else know.
On the fourth week I received the call from the hospital as his emergency contact.