-- ¿Qué? -- Parpadeó varias veces, girándose para mirar a la persona que estaba a su lado en la cola de la cafetería. -- ¿Estabas hablándome a mí...? -- Preguntó algo dubitativa, sin dejar de verle. ( @youngwarlockrps )
SUMMARY: Dylan does the challenge at Spencer's request.
NOTES: Somehow this gets a little angsty. He challenges Gabe, Alba, and his brother, Benji.
He waltzed on through the cafeteria, passed the lobby, and out the front door. He was left standing on the stair case that led to the main entrance of the school, and all he was wearing were a pair of Spiderman swim trunks. That part shouldn't have surprised anybody. On the very top step sat a hot pink bucket of water, and next to that sat a small bag of ice. Dylan gave his growing audience a confident smile before giving his baseball coach the signal to start filming. He took in a deep breath, held it there, and let it out just as the words fell from his mouth. "Hello world!" He greeted happily, clapping his hands together as he swung back and forth on his heels. "I've been challenged by the lovely Spencer Anderson to do the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge, and even though I was woken up at the ass crack of dawn (which was really two o'clock in the afternoon) - I am extremely confident that by doing this challenge at Wintergrove, we can all help raise awareness."
"You guys should know that this is a safe place. It may not always seem like it when you come face to face with people that treat you as though you don't deserve to feel - but listen - you do. You really do. You're so important to the people that love you, and you've gotta believe that there's always somebody that wants to see you smile, and hear you laugh, and even when you go to bed with the idea that you'd be content if you didn't get up in the morning; remember that the sun doesn't rise the same without you waking up to it." He paused then, biting down on his lower lip to stop himself from getting too emotional, because he meant every single word that he was saying. Maybe it was hard to notice in such a big place, but Dylan noticed everybody. If he saw you once, you became significant. He wouldn't ever forget you, and he would miss you if you were gone. It happened once; his freshman year. The kid was called Garrett, and when he stopped coming to class, Dylan constantly wondered when he'd be back and he was a bit quieter on the day that he realized he wouldn't. "I'm sorry for going off like that - you guys are just so important and shouldn't ever tell yourself otherwise."
He took a moment to collect himself, and his thoughts, and he turned his attention back to the camera. "I'd like to nominate Gabriel Hudson, Alba Abbiati, and the kid in the Sailor Moon shirt." The boy was standing further away from the crowd, but close enough to be considered one of them. "Before you ask, man - I'm really diggin' your shirt. I just wanted to call you out for that. You can do the challenge if you want to, but I'm gonna go ahead and nominate my brother because of that one time in seventh grade. He knows what I'm talking about. Don't believe him if he denies it." Then with that, he leaned down to poor the ice into the bucket in order to make the water colder; which would give him a better idea of what someone with ALS goes through. Not the feeling of being cold, but the tightening of his muscels once it hits him. He'll understand for about a minute.
He tossed the empty bag into the trash can, and then picked up the bucket. It was full enough that some water splashed out of the sides as he lifted it above his head, and without wasting another second; Dylan poured the entire thing over his body. He felt as though he had just been punched in the chest, or like his breath had been knocked out of him. He dropped the bucket and covered his face with his hands. "I am in the Arctic Ocean." He called out, shivering enough to make his teeth chatter. It was hard to speak well enough to be understood through all of the stuttering, but he managed, and he smiled big enough to hide the fact this was making him sad. People go through things like that all the time. Every single day is a struggle to survive. Whether it be from a disease, or depression, it all kills the same.
Dylan wishes that he could do more. He doesn't understand why things happen the way they do, and no matter how many people he lifts up, he pushes himself down and he tells himself that he could have done better. He should have done better. Once he regained feeling in his face as well as other important body parts, he dried himself off and threw his towel over his shoulders. "Alright guys! That's all I came outside for. So I'm gonna go get some yogurt. Don't forget to donate! Even a few dollars helps." Dylan went inside as soon as the camera was off. He was going to get his food and then hunt down Spencer so that he could give him a high five. The guy wasn't as bad as people made him out to be. Dylan admired that. "Aye - hey, no. Watch what you're doing with that twinkie." He said, knocking it out of the hand of some idiot who was about to throw it. "Vikings aren't about that asshole life. Take it somewhere else." He shook his head and took off up the stairs. "And guess what, everyone? I'm thinkin' that somehow; there's an ice cube in my underwear." He shot some randoms a suggestive grin and disappeared into his room.
