Dylan Buchannan

Dylan Buchannan. 25. Upper Market. Web Designer. Bachelor. People Pleaser. Sometimes.

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“That’s the last time I crash a wedding party.”

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Date Night

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Grace softened at his words, immediately recalling the conversation that she had with Ollie earlier that day. Some bastard had taken advantage of him and her first thought upon finding out had been about the most painful way to kill him for it. She could never fault Dylan for defending his sister - she commended him, in fact, for staying calm as long as he had. Had she been face to face with her brother’s abuser, she would have ripped his head off the second she laid eyes on him. By the way he was averting his eyes, she could tell that he was ashamed of his behavior, and honestly, it kind of made her like him more. Acting impulsively, she grabbed him by the chin and pulled him closer, placing a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling back slightly, she smiled. “Your sister’s lucky to have you. You’re a good brother.”

Dylan could see Grace’s demeanour faltering. Her body visibly let go of some of the tension as she seemed to accept his story. In fact, he could see something that looked a lot like admiration written across her face, and a swell of pride momentarily consumed him. He kissed her back, wishing only second later that she hadn’t pulled away. You’re a good brother. He could have laughed at that, but his expression remained solemn. “But not such a great date. I’m sorry.”

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“Well, you have to come up with different tricks when you kill people a hundred different ways.”

“But changing it up can be a risk, don’t you think? You find something that works and you keep it up until it doesn’t.”

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“New, no,” Cam said, shaking her softly, “I-It’s been about a year-ish, but I…I don’t spend alot of time in this part of the city.” She smiled as paraphrased, “I’m not in Kansas anymore.”

“Well if you’re not new here then it’s not much fun. It’s not a real tour.”

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“Um,” Camila turned suddenly, surprised someone even heard her mumbling, “Yeah, I mean, if you’re not too busy or whatever, that’d be great.”

“Great. Well, truth is this isn’t really my part of town either but I think I know enough to give you the grand tour.”

“Are you new around here or something?”

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“Alright, I know countless things. I can put together a break-in to a high security building, I can run a several million dollar organization and I can hide a body at least a hundred different ways. But can I put together a swing I bought from Walmart for my two daughters? Apparently not.”

“And yes, I did in fact, actually go to Walmart.”

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“A hundred different ways? I usually stick with the same token trick. Hasn’t let me down yet. Why mess with a good thing?”

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“I think…I took a wrong turn somewhere?” Cam muttered to herself, looking from left to right in confusion. “This definitely isn’t my neighborhood…”

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“Should I show you around?” Dylan asked, overhearing the mumbling woman as she passed him by. He fell into step next to her without waiting for a response.

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Date Night

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“It’s a big deal because you can’t just go punching out random guys, even if they are an asshole!” She resolutely planted her feet. “No, I’m not going anywhere until you explain what the fuck just happened. Saying ‘you had to’ is not a good enough excuse.” To be honest, she was a bit scared of the idea of leaving with him right now; without a proper explanation, he was just a ticking time bomb and she had no idea what might trigger him next. She needed to know why, and if he didn’t have a proper excuse then that was the end of it.

Dylan was quiet for a second, realizing that to Grace, he had just crossed a line. She was obviously uncomfortable with him and he wasn’t sure how he was going to fix that. The truth was, the guy had just gotten under his skin. But the likelihood of him and Grace leaving together after that was zero to none unless he found a quick way to drag himself out of the grave he’d apparently just dug. He finally met her eyes again, just momentarily before dropping them in what he hoped looked something like shame or embarrassment. “I knew him,” he lied, glancing back up. “I thought I could let it go but he kept running his mouth, and the way he was looking at you...” He let the sentence die momentarily. “He took advantage of my sister. That guy’s sick. And he got away with it,” he explained, letting himself cave to the anger the guy had stirred up only moments ago. “I didn’t realize it was him until we were already in line, and I thought I could let it go if we just got in and out... But when he opened his mouth I just... Guess I lost it.”

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Date Night

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“So you punched him?” she asked exasperatedly. “I’m not blind, Dylan! I saw the way he was looking at me, but that’s all it was: looking! I’m not some delicate flower who needs to be protected from even the leering eyes of strangers.” It was such a dramatic turn that she didn’t even know what to think. She knew it was some misguided attempt at protecting her virtue, but what could possibly make him think that it was necessary?

“I know you’re not!” he snapped, much louder than he had intended. How was he supposed to explain that he had done what he had to do? “But I had to.” The excuse slipped out because he couldn’t explain it any better. He just had to. “He’s an ass anyway, why is it a big deal? Let’s just get out of here.” 

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Date Night

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Grace followed behind him numbly, completely shocked by what just happened. Once they escaped the crowds, however, she started to regain her wits. Pulling her hand forcefully from his grip, she stopped in her tracks. “What the fuck was that, Dylan?” she asked frantically, her voice raised in panic. Sure, the guy had been an asshole, but Dylan basically assaulted him. “He was just - he was just being an asshole! Why did you attack him?” 

“Because he deserved it!” Dylan yelled, staring at her in disbelief. How could she not see that? “You didn’t see the way he was looking at you!” he continued, desperate for her to understand. “The whole time, he couldn’t take his eyes off you." He was silent for a second, seething. 

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Daria stood at the bar, too shy to order something but too afraid to step away and rejoin the crowd.

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“Don’t you have any friends?” Dylan slid onto the stool next to the lone girl and flagged over a bartender. He could go for a drink right about now.

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“Oh right um— s-sorry”

Dylan shut his eyes for a second in an attempt to calm his shit. A thought had just occurred to him; this was Grace’s brother. He was making a shitty impression, which was the last thing he needed to do after what happened at the concert; the concert being one of the last things he wanted to think about right now considering he’d been on the phone arguing about the fact that the vendor was pressing charges.

“Whatever, it’s nothing,” he huffed.

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“You just don’t know anything. And what makes you think that I would stay with you?”

“The fact that you’re not old enough to think for yourself. Are you even old enough to be out of the womb?”

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“Lots of reasons. Mostly the fact that nobody’s here except the two of us.”

“Never heard of a phone?”

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Oliver jumped at the phone smashing onto the pavement, and curled his arms around his body. “Dylan? Are you um— you alright?”

Dylan laughed; the question was ridiculous. “Yeah, I’m just fine,” he snapped.

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“Wait, what? Have I done something wrong?”

Dylan shut the phone he’d been yelling into and chucked it at the wall a few feet away. “What do you want?”

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“He’s working, cause that’s what people do.”

“Okay. So he was working but he was also supposed to pick you up? Father of the year. I guess you’re stuck with me for a while.”