alright ↠ dylan o'brien

thirty four.

Let the water wash away

Everything that you've become

On your knees, today is gone

And tomorrow's sure to come

Tomorrow's sure to come

~Blasphemy by twenty one pilots

Dylan

Brian got up late the next morning quietly thinking I was still asleep, though I was wide awake. I had been wide awake throughout the entirety of the night. He went out to the kitchen and I heard him telling his mom everything and asked if I could stay a few days. There was some whispering going on and some gasps and some hints of "I think his step dad beat him".

My face was throbbing and my body aching with pain, but I got up anyhow. My eyes were red and my arms and legs heavy as I dragged myself out of Brian's room and into the hallway.

"Just please don't make it obvious that he looks like he just got shoved down a drain, okay?" Brian whispered from the kitchen. I almost chuckled, but didn't. Once I made it to the kitchen, Brian's mom looked up at me. Her expression changed explicitly but, at Brian's request, she tried not to make it noticeable.

His mom was a small woman who looked far older than her age. Her hair was blonde and curly, just like Brian's, and her face held many wrinkles that showed the struggles she had overcome. All in all, you could see the resemblance of the two clearly. This was not my first time at Brian's. I had come over to hang out about three times since November, and I knew Mrs. Phillips to be very kind. I also knew that she liked to be called 'Mrs. Phillips' as apparently she still believed her husband would come back to her though he had already left them not too long ago.

"Dylan!" exclaimed Mrs. Phillips as she continued washing the dishes. "I hear you'll be staying for a bit?"

"Yeah, if it's not too much trouble," I eased.

"Anytime. You know you're always welcome here. Stay as long as you need," she gushed. I plastered a smile on my face as I sat down next to Brian at the kitchen table, who I caught staring at me while I talked to his mom. He immediately looked back at his breakfast, however, the moment I met his eyes. I inwardly sighed and looked down at the bowl of Cheerios that sat before me. I know I looked like hell. I looked like I had been in hell. But it was a natural reoccurrence now.

Mrs. Phillips soon left the room, leaving Brian and I alone. I found Brian eyeing me again and I gave him a look, a look that clearly said "stop staring at me before I cut you." He seemed to get the memo because he immediately looked away and continued eating his cereal.

"You know what I think?" he said shortly. "I think we need to get you away from your depressing life for a night. We're gonna party."

"That's a terrible idea," I grumbled, not only because I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the night before, but also because I wasn't looking forward to move, let alone go out with people.

"Aw, come on, why not?" whined Brian. "We can easily find a party, we do it all the time."

"No," I persisted.

But of course, Brian won in the end. I agreed to go on two conditions: it could not be a party held by anyone at Manhattan High, and there had to be heavy alcohol there. Obviously, he agreed immediately.

Lola

The night Dylan and I broke up brought only silence and tears. Reality finally hit me and I realized that I had lost the best thing that had happened to be in a very long time. The only thing I could have kept. But I had ruined it to the point where it was too late.