'—sorry i just don't really know where i'm going. um. the post office?'
"Yeah, okay. So, what you're gonna wanna do, is take a left out of here, drive until you get to town. It's in the middle of town, on Main, and it's a white building."

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@xmassett
'—sorry i just don't really know where i'm going. um. the post office?'
"Yeah, okay. So, what you're gonna wanna do, is take a left out of here, drive until you get to town. It's in the middle of town, on Main, and it's a white building."
“I’m, ah — I’m here to check in?”
Plainly shocked that someone was actually checking in, it took Dylan a moment to respond. "Uh, yeah, okay, great. Uh, take your choice of rooms, one to twelve, and... I'm gonna need your information and credit card number," he slid the clipboards over to the man, still somewhat surprised.
The protective act was sweet in a way, and it was nice knowing somebody cared about her well being, but that being said - it still wasn’t getting her to go back to that place. Bradley had loved school once upon a time, but since her fathers death - nothing was what it was once been. Her grades had dropped, partly due to lack of caring. She couldn’t bring herself to care about much anymore, besides finding her father’s killer and making them pay for what they’d done. “School is bullshit, and it’s not like anybody really cares anyway. Mom’s too doped up on sedatives most of the time to notice.”
"No, really..." Dylan shook his head. "You're gonna care. Come two years, and you wanna go to college, and get out of this piece of shit that people call a town. But your grades weren't good enough... colleges don't want you. You're stuck in this piece of shit for a long time, until you scrape up the money to get out. Believe me, I know," he told her, looking down at her. "So, as soon as you're done, back to school."
"What are you going to do, Dylan? Tell on me?" Bradley wasn’t really one for following the rules, not anymore. Following the rules and doing what everyone expected of her had gotten her nowhere. "I promise I’ll be in and out, I just need to get something."
"I never said that... I just said..." Dylan sighed, shaking his head. "In and out, and then you go back to school, got it? Or, yeah, I'm gonna tell someone that you..." he trailed off, realizing that he probably sounded like a six-year-old. "School's important." Oh, look who's talking. Mr. College Dropout.
"You're really not supposed to be doing that..."
мү ωσяsт {eneмy} ————ɪs ᴍ̶ʏ MEMORY
ɪᴛ’s ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴏ вυяп ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ᶠ ᴬ ᴰ ᴱ ᴬ ᵂ ᴬ ʸ
ιт’ѕ вєттєя тσ —ℓєανє— тнαη тσ вє { я є ρ ℓ α c є ∂ }
"Thanks." She said sincerely after he jogged ahead and opened the door to the coffee shop. Once walking in, she swung her leather bag off her, placing it on the floor before sitting across from Dylan at the table. "Well, you said I could bother you anytime." She began, pausing briefly to gather her thoughts.
"You know how you were under Gil’s empoly and found out how someone had it out for my Dad and the warehouse…" As she trailed off, her green eyes travelled towards the surface of the table, locked on it for seconds. C’mon Bradley, just go ahead and say it already. ”I want to find my Dads killers.” She paused momentarily.
"…And I thought maybe you’d be interested in the same." Her eyes then managed to look across over at Dylan now, unsure of if he’d want to be involved in anything such as that again. After all, they almost got killed the last time they went forward to get some of her dads belongings. But she knew what she had to do, and she was going to go with her plans no matter what.
Dylan nodded once, lacing his fingers together. He soon got restless, though, and his foot began to tap repeatedly underneath the table. Yes, but any time doesn't exactly mean when you're supposed to be at school, and I'm usually at work. He just nodded again, though, wanting to hear what Bradley had to say.
"You want to find your dad's what?" he asked, eyes widening somewhat. He wasn't about to throw himself into a whole new pile of shit just because this girl wanted to find out who killed her father. It was her own business, she could go about finding it herself. Dylan really didn't need any more people coming after his life.
The young man sighed, pushing a hand through his hair, before looking up at her. "Look, Bradley. I... I really don't know if I can help you with that. I'm really busy right now, with the motel opening, and my job, and Norma and Norman, and..." he sighed once more, tapping his fingers against the table. "I never met your father, and I'm sure he was great, but I... I really don't think that I can help with this type of thing. I'm sorry."
Dylan getting uptight about her choice of words made her wish she hadn’t said anything at all. That old pocket watch meant something to her, and she appreciated what he had done for her.
"Then you’re not, okay. I’ll make note of that." She simply said, not too bothered by the situation at the moment as they had reached the coffee shop. Bradley was more so thinking about what happens once they have the conversation of what she hadn’t told him yet. Or even if she should go ahead and tell him still.
She pulled the helmet off, running her hands through her golden hair before putting it with the other one before throwing her hands at her sides, heading in the direction of the shop. She looked behind her slightly to see if he was following close behind, before she continued on walking again herself.
Dylan followed at her heels after locking the bike down, sighing softly. He hadn't meant to upset her, but he couldn't change what he'd already done. The past was in the past, and he wasn't about to try to change anything. Sure, he could - and would - be stupid. But that was a quality of guys his age, right?
He jogged ahead of her to push open the door to the coffee shop with his good hand, holding it for her, before walking in himself, sitting down at a table. Dylan didn't really know why she wanted to bring him there - or why she wasn't at school, really, but he wasn't going to argue. He had the afternoon off, and he wasn't about to get Bradley into trouble because he got bored.
"There sure are a fair share of big shot sheriffs around here." She replied under her breath, thinking to the night of White Pine Bay’s Winter Formal.
"Oh, c’mon. I don’t believe that for a second. I’m sure you played the hero to get that wound of yours. After all, you saved the day finding my Dad’s stop watch." She added, trying to make light of Dylan’s obvious irritated state. " As he continued down the road, a familiar sense of her surroundings made her feel anxious.
"Oh, god, don't say that..." Dylan muttered, shaking his head. "I'm no hero. Just because I can find some old pocket watch doesn't mean I'm a hero, okay?"
"Really. I'm not a hero. Please don't think that I am one," he informed her as he parked his bike at the side of the road, climbing off of it, and pulling his helmet off. Just because I can shoot a gun straight doesn't mean I'm a hero.
"No, I didn’t come to you for that, don’t worry." She laughed slightly, pulling herself back together. Dylan was doing more good for her than he probably knew it. Her eyes then widened at his non chaulant response. "No big deal?” She repeated. ”No big deal is sneaking out to a party for the night. I think you’ll have to tell me all about that arm when we get that coffee now, won’t you?” She insisted, seeming interested. She wanted to hear about someone else for once.
"Well, you see... Sheriff..." Oh, god, what's his name again? "Grumpy-Face doesn't want me talking about it. He says that I got in the way of his firefight," Dylan sighed. He wanted to tell her what really happened, he did. Yeah, no, I shot Shelby until he dropped dead on our front steps. Saved my entire damn family while doing it too. But he couldn't. He couldn't just put his family into danger again like that. So, he started up the bike again and continued down the road, wanting to keep his mind off of his arm.
Bradley knew he was joking, it just might have been a little too soon for her; there were a lot of things on her mind, and she tries to take it day by day.
"It’s okay, I just need to learn to grow thick skin, I suppose." She then took the helmet and placed it on her head, locking her arms around Dylan lightly to hang on. "Well, that sling worries me. Is it too late to back out now?" She teased, knowing very well that he was capable to get himself here in the first place. Besides, she confided in him regarding the issues with her Dad, so she felt that she could trust him now. "And me, depressed? I’m about to go on one hell of a ride. I’m fine." She assured him, cracking a smile as they took off down the road. Seeing everything so fast paced in her surroundings made her forget about everything she had on her mind, and what she was about to get herself involved in.
"I understand how you feel - really, I do. But, right now, I don't want you all... upset. Girly, ya know? No offense, of course," Dylan muttered. He then sighed, speeding down the road, ignoring the fact that his arm was in pain. The wind rushing against his face helped somewhat - he was free. No... no Norma, no Deputy Shelby, no huge field of weed. Just him, his bike, and Bradley. Norman was going to kill him if he ever saw this. "Don't worry about it," he told her as he stopped at a red light. "I got shot. No big deal."
Bradley threw her hands up in the air. “No scuffs, I heard you loud and clear.” She assured him. Bradley then looked down slightly. It was funny that Dylan even mentioned her dad at all, considering he was the reason why she came to Dylan today. “I don’t know, considering he’s not here anymore…” She paused for a moment, her voice fading slightly. Each time she said that it didn’t seem real at all, despite the length of time since. “I guess he would call me crazy, but life’s full of opportunities and risks. I’ve always been one of those kinds of people; doing the opposite to what those found unethical.” She then felt the stop watch in her pocket, stroking it lightly. “Besides, I’m in good company if I’m with a man, not a boy.”
She flashed a small smile as she too, climbed onto the bike.
"C'mon, Brad, I was joking. Let's not get all depressed on me, yeah?" Dylan asked, looking over his shoulder at her. "You're gonna wanna hold on, okay? Not going to brag, here, but this baby can go pretty fast for a bike her size," he grinned, before looking ahead. "Oh, and put on the helmet. Don't want you to kill yourself if I get in an accident - unlikely, but possible." He then kicked up the brakes, and started off down the road towards town, fingers wrapped around the handlebars.
"Yeah, yeah." Bradley replied joking along with him about his comment of her whereabouts that didn’t involve school. "That bike, over there?" She said, looking off up ahead to the bike that was in view. "Hell yeah, that’d be great. Some ride you got yourself there…" She trailed off, heading in the direction, assuming that he was following close behind. She was glad Dylan agreed to help her out, she felt relieved to some degree. That she was in good company.
"Yep, that's it. Try not to scuff it, alright? Cleaned it yesterday," he replied, jogging back to the motel to grab his wallet, slipping it into his pocket. Dylan then followed her to his bike, tossing the keys in his hand. "How would your dad feel if he knew that you were skipping school with an older boy...?" he joked, climbing onto the bike and grabbing his helmet, clipping it on. "No, not a boy. I'm a man, now," he teased, looking over his shoulder at her as he started it.
"Actually, I think there might be." Bradley paused for a moment, sorting her thoughts about a particular situation as she approached him. "I think we should talk this over coffee? I mean, if you’re free, that is. I know some of us have places to be and I’m just the girl who’s in high school, right?" Bradley cracked a smile, hopeful that Dylan would be willing to help her out. After all, he did find her Dads stopwatch. She felt like she could count on someone, and that someone being Norman’s very own brother.
"Coffee...?" Dylan looked around, right hand slipping into his pocket, left curling up in the sling. "No, no, I'm not... I mean, yeah, I'm free. But shouldn't you be at school?" he joked, a little grin on his face. "Yeah, I can help you. What with? Well, I guess that's what the coffee's for, though, isn't it. Uh, let me just grab my wallet, and then we can go, alright? Want me to drive there? I've got a bike."
++headcanon
Dylan has three tattoos; one of a wing on his upper left arm, a dream catcher on his calf, and - his most recent - one resembling a bullet hole behind his right shoulder blade.
Dylan Massett + Leather