DISSOCIATING from the situation was parker’s only coping mechanism during times like this, and it took her a few seconds longer than usual to process dylan’s words. she turned her head as much as his hand would let her, still not being able to look him in the eyes. ❝ what the fuck are you talking about, dylan? you don’t have a sister, and if you did i feel like i would’ve heard about her at least once in the past thirteen years. ❞
“I’m not sure thirteen-year-old boys talk about their little sisters all that much,” he pointed out, his voice level, hand still holding her gently. “And there’s the fact that I walked out on my family, remember? I lost touch with her, too. After a while.” Not that they were currently in touch at all - otherwise, he would’ve known about her affinity towards acting, wouldn’t he have? “Her name’s Zoey, she’s grown up to be as beautiful as I always thought she would be, and she hates the sight of me. Which, totally makes sense when you consider she’s got herself working on the same studio. Not that I’m holding any of that against her, you know.” He sighed, his hand moving through Parker’s hair as opposed to holding her still then, his gaze focused somewhere on one of the walls. There was no point in looking for his sister, other than the occasional glance to check up that she was still in one piece, not when she was doing such a great job at avoiding him. “There could be a plot point made from any of this. Right?” he joked poorly.
There’s a whole gaggle of bridesmaids standing in between him and the door. Not that there’s a lot he can do - or even head that way - what with the looks Bradley keeps shooting him. The ones that explicitly say his best man is supposed to be doing his job in keeping them distracted. Or something. Just... something to keep the groom from over-stressing, maybe.
(or, the one where Dylan doesn’t pursue acting, finds no reason to distance himself from his family, and he just exists)
So he’s stuck, smiling that smile that only comes out when he’s feeling slightly harassed, and dodging the type of questions that might bring anyone any shame if he were to answer them truthfully. (What do you do? Are you in the business with your brother? No, I’m a dog walker. How about we sneak into the bathroom for a quickie? No, thank you.)
He’s wondering where his little sister got off to - and how come she escaped entertaining bridesmaids for the sake of entertaining the ring bearer and the flower girls. Because, he’d very much like to change places with her right then and there.
But then Brad smiles at him, hand squeezing his shoulder with more force than necessary yet probably the precise right amount he hadn’t realized he was needing and he sighs, exhales, feels his tension evaporate little by little. He loves his family - of course he does. And he couldn’t be prouder of the role he gets to play in his older brother’s promise to the woman he intends to share his life with, of course.
It’s just... hard, sometimes, realizing Bradley is happy with the path he chose, with what he chose to direct his entire drive and intellect towards. Because he’s found a purpose, he’s making his own way there and it’s... it’s happening.
Whereas he’s the middle brother, the one without any serious job prospects, the one that dropped out of law school. The part-time bake shop employee, the part-time dog walker, the part-time karaoke singer. Trying to put all the pieces of what make him happy, blending them together in some way.
And, mostly, he’s just afraid that he’s failing at all of that.
shit. ❛ oh my god! shut the front door. dylan, hey. oh y’know…heard you we’re slumming it here tonight and just thought i’d stop in for a drink. the virgin kind of course, ❜ she stressed, exaggerating the thought with a brilliant wave of her hand and ordering a club soda. the last thing romy needed was to get some kind of scolding from the male over her life choices. it’s not like she didn’t stand by any of them — of course she did. but this was dylan. he’d known her for so long now that she did her best to just…avoid those confrontations with him altogether. especially when she knew judt how uncomfortable they actually made him. as if romy didn’t have enough siblings to deal with, it was sometimes like he was the overprotective big brother she never wanted but got anyways. ❛ enough about me, though, how’s life? how’s parker? i mean, i imagine you see still see her far more than i ever do. ❜
“Not that I don’t appreciate your company, as one of my favorite Hassans that you are, but...” his voice trailed off as he looked around them, reaching out to lightly pat her shoulder in greeting. “You sure this is the best kind of place for you to meet anyone? Even me?” And he didn’t exactly recall sharing his plans with the evening with anyone else, but, well... he could overlook that for now. If only because he was glad to see her, bar or no bar. “Parker is... she’s good. You know. Looks healthy. We’re kind of not on speaking terms lately but that’s, you know, that’s a novelty here.” One that he hadn’t really meant to share, but he figured she’d notice on her own pretty soon, anyway. It did make life on set that much more complicated. “How’s - How’ve you been, then? With your... life?” He blinked a few times, showing her an uneasy smile.
“ PLOT twist,” ainsley joked, a little disappointed with herself for just assuming that what was in his cup was coffee. she smiled widely at his suggestion. “smoothies? with the j. dylan simon? how could i ever say no to that? i could never forgive myself. bananas are great, but i’ll probably get peach. i think that would work well for me,” she paused to take a breath, attempting to avoid anymore word vomit and embarrassment in from of her childhood celebrity crush. “when would you like to do this? shall we call it a date?”
“I’ll fool ya. And everybody else. Just watch me,” his tone dropped on the last day, a minor throwback to his incredibly short Broadway stint, a wistful smile appearing on his face. “Wasn’t aware there was an article to my name, that’ll be hellish to write. Although, you know, peaches taste great. Smell great, too.” He waited patiently until she collected her thoughts again, head tilted to one side. “Ah, well, I’m as free as can be for a while now - so why put something off indiscriminately when it could be happening right now? That is, unless you’re unavailable. I figure I can finish my hot cocoa and still have some leftover space for a smoothie. Boy stomach.” And, though it was unusual to call himself a boy, he thought it appropriate enough.
“ UM, the second one. but it’s fine, really, i don’t mind ah –– hot, hot, hot. ” he whines before handing some off to dylan, grateful for the help that seems to come just in time. if it were anyone else, fletcher wouldn’t be guaranteed a helping hand. it seems the role of studio clown has been put forcefully put upon him. “ life: by leah set, actually. so hopefully it’s not a detour for you. how’ve you been, hm? it’s been, uh, a while and all. not sure how everyone can drink all these hot coffees during the california summer. i need mine iced, most definitely. ”
“You know, that set is always such an inconvenience for me.” Dylan grins at the taller male, fighting back the urge to lean against him. Fletcher is just so... cuddly. “I’m doing alright, grasshopper. I can’t complain about nothin’. How about yourself? Did something different with your hair?” His head tips back, to get a better glimpse of the other, and he frowns in thought. “I getcha. That’s why none of these are for me - I’d much rather have a smoothie any day of this week. Particularly those seasonal flavors that are never around after you started liking their taste. Wouldn’t you rather have some ice cream, though?”
❝ OH, yep; definitely haven’t seen that. don’t plan on it, either. never invite me to one of your raves unless you want me to throw up on your shoes when i inevitable get overwhelmed by all the people. ❞ she shot him a wink, letting him know she was in on the joke, her brows furrowing as he went on, though. ❝ you have siblings that you never told me about? ❞ she frowned, part of her wondering about this secret part of his life, about his siblings and about why he never told her, but she knew that – whatever the reason he’d kept it from her – it was a good one. ❝ of course i’ll go with you, dyl. i have one condition, though: i need to know more about this secret family so i don’t go in blind. oh, and one of those giant cookies they sell at the mall. ❞
“I would at least make sure you’re not trampled on. By humans.” He made no such allowances for their pets. Cringing slightly, and dreading the fact that he’d brought it up at all in every single account but at the same time knowing he wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything at all unless he had Leah right there by his side, he let out a drawn-out sigh. Almost visibly deflating. “I’ll drive us to the mall. They - I don’t think my sister wants to be associated with me in any shape or form," he pointed out, not that he knew that from first-hand experience but rather the fact that she’d troubled herself by adding a whole new letter to her last name. Or something. “I haven’t talked to him in ages, either, besides the occasional holiday greeting card. I got myself a suit while we were in Chicago and I’m fully planning on treating you if you’d need anything to wear, too. As another form of thank you. I haven’t... exactly told a lot of people this much about them, to be honest. I just, uh, walked away from home after a fight with my parents and I never... never went back. You know. That sort of thing.” His sheepish grin was a little bit tense, probably much less genuine than it usually happened to be. Even then, he met her gaze straight-on, not so ashamed that he would hide from her.
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