the remake +

Usually Greyson could read a situation pretty well, it was how he knew what type of masks to put on. It was how he knew the way he should come off or act. This should’ve been one of those moments he should’ve went along with Dylan’s teasing but honestly, Dylan may have been one of the hardest people for Greyson to read. Possibly because he couldn’t process her personality in his mind as some sort of character, like in a book. Most characters become obvious in what they’ll do or say next because that’s the nature of that character but Dylan wasn’t like that. He never knew what he was going to get with her so there was this constant guard up with him. Maybe that said a lot about Greyson? Limiting people to different personality quirks or flaws and when someone fell off those carefully created ideals in his head he no longer knew how to properly handle himself. He no longer knew what character he had to be in the situation presented. It was really a sort of sad way of living, wasn’t it? — But everyone had a reason for the way their brain worked, right? 

That being said, in most situations Greyson would read the situation as something relaxed. As two people having a easy-going conversation with some teasing. If he wasn’t so tense he probably would’ve joked back and even came off somewhat charming in probably a dorky way. They’d have a laugh and that’d be that but Greyson was tense and in a way paranoid, waiting for the other shoe to drop with the blonde. Admittedly, if Greyson was being honest he did find Dylan interesting, he was curious about her, and although anxious around her, there was this drift towards her when she was in the room, even though it seemed as though he wanted nothing more than to run in the opposite direction. That being said, she also scared the shit out of him. They really were polar opposites in a lot of ways. 

Looking at her when her felt her shoe hit his leg, he cleared his throat slightly. She really did have the best timing, didn’t she? Greyson being his awkward self, immediately shook his head at her assumptions. If he wasn’t so uptight in this moment, he’d probably handle it so much differently but jesus fuck… This guy really needed something to chill him out. “No— I mean, yes… No, yeah I remember you saying that but n-no that’s not what happened.” Solid, nicely done, totally nailed it. 

When she leaned forward, Greyson’s reflex was to lean back but that was cut short when she grabbed his arm and proceeded to scoop up some cereal in the spoon and eat it. That couldn’t have been good which only confused him more when she looked at him and said “yum.” Was she fucking with him because it felt like she was fucking with him and doing a hell of a job of it. The look of confusion, awkwardness, and even shyness on Greyson’s face was evidence of that. “No one was trying to win… I’m not a fair—I… It wasn’t anything like that.” He really was nailing this whole talking thing at the moment. It was definitely something he was slapping himself in the face for on the inside. This girl… This fucking girl, she had the ability to get him up in his emotions and she had the ability to make him some stuttering idiot, it was actually impressive. She really was going to be the death of him. 

“They were just fighting about… I don’t know? They were just fighting and I shouldn’t have stepped in, that’s it.” Sitting up in his chair, he this time looked at her more directly. Trying to speak like a normal person this time. “Besides, I don’t think I’m Jules or Cassidy’s type so fighting over me or winning me would be a little far fetched.” Okay, so he didn’t stutter this time but half of it was a lie and a certain blonde that was still sleeping up in her hotel room knew it. Sure, the fight wasn’t about him, no one was trying to win him, Jules wasn’t interested in him… Hell, he and Jules didn’t really get along but Cass… It may have been a different story. She found some interest in him that she hadn’t had before but that was besides the point, right? Dylan didn’t have to know that. Or more so he didn’t want her to know because he didn’t want it to be anything. He ran away from it all and slept on an empty bus for a reason. 

She loved it. She would openly admit it if he only asked. She adored every second of watching him squirm and scramble for answers about things that honestly, she didn’t really care about at all. But, seeing his face screw up and the cogs turn inside his head and that strange look of panic as if he had been caught out doing something wrong caused her nothing but sheer joy. It was hilarious. Priceless. Perfect.

“You were just being noble and stopping the fight, that’s okay,” she pointed out, offering him a single morsel of hope that she believed a thing that was coming out of his mouth. The truth was that Dylan was sure that the fight had absolutely nothing to do with him but she was somewhat surprised that if anyone was to step in, it would be Greyson. There was something so absurd about the thought of this boy, this one that she was staring at stuttering right now was the one who had got between those three during an argument. She didn’t understand why, when he couldn’t seem to do a thing to be honest with himself that he had decided to interfere in some hefty old drama that just happened to go down during the party. That interested her. There was some moral compass in there that applied to everyone but himself. 

She leaned forwards squinting, her eyesight getting blurry from how much she was doing so. “Wait, one second,” she leaned back, pulling out her glasses from the pocket of her hoodie and sliding them to rest on her nose where they belonged. Dylan hardly ever wore her glasses, most of the time she just walked around a little bit blind because she hated contact lenses too. It was so unnatural putting those weird little things on your eyeball and even weirder pulling them out. With her glasses adjusted she was now able to see him clearly, “Just as I suspected,” he told him rather seriously, “You’re seriously hot. You’re like everybody’s type. Do you look in the mirror or do you just saunter around like an emo nerd feeling sorry for yourself all day?”

She was already glancing around, hungry for more food but she stopped to look back at him again, resting one elbow lazily on the table to cup her own face, green eyes locking with his in some rather intense eye contact. The truth was Dylan didn’t know how to be anything other than intense at times. She was full on. For some people she was too much to handle but she refused to change, why should she? This is how she had survived. This is how she lived. “I’d say you were like an 8.5 out of 10. No Idris Elba but for you know, a normal dude you meet on a cramped bus of angsty young adults. You’re definitely up there. So am I, of course, but we’re talking about you.”

She leaned back then, moving out of their shared space to perch back on her side of the table, sliding her glasses off and playing with them in one hand. They twizzled around and around, and she thought a little harder about what he said as the world turned back to being slightly off focus, “But,” she said, testing the waters for one of the final times, it seemed that she couldn’t let it go although she barely knew if she was right or wrong, “It’s probably good that neither of them won you, right?” Investigation. “You wouldn’t want to make things awkward and complicated, we’ve still got a while left on this bus and you don’t like drama.”

Looking across at Dylan he couldn’t help but wonder if she was still thinking about the conversation they had previously. It seemed as if it was something of the past, like it wasn’t even slightly on her mind. Which he honestly should’ve been glad about. It seemed as if it was being dropped and they were speaking normally but at the same time he felt as if he knew Dylan enough to know there was always something in her back pocket. She didn’t forget and if he made one wrong turn she’d be the first to tell him so. Then again, maybe that was the paranoia he seemed to fall victim to quiet frequently? If Greyson was being honesty, he was confused as to how he should act or be around Dylan. She was intimidating because she seemingly knew so much without him even having to say anything. She read him like a book and that in itself was frightening to someone like Greyson.  

“I… I mean, it’s nice seeing everyone to a certain extent but there’s just… With any big group of friends there’s always underlying drama, right?” Greyson had no idea if he was trying to cover up the obvious discomfort he had being on this trip with their group of old friends or if he truly believed what he was saying. Sure, there was a part of him that wanted to get out of there, that didn’t really want a part of this road trip anymore. Not with the way things were hitting him but at the same time it was nice seeing everyone. “It’s just… I’m not used to all this anymore. I’m used to choosing the moments I wanna go out and get involved in things, I guess?” He spoke, playing with the spoon in his cereal a little as his eyes fell down to the bowl, watching as he stirred his spoon in the discolored milk. 

Her question about the cereal was met with a shrug, his eyes still on the food. That was before she had caught his attention. Looking up at her, Greyson couldn’t help the quick reaction of shaking his head as if to say she was wrong. That he wasn’t keeping something from her. Which in reality there was more to the story then “the party way okay” if anything there was a lot more to it and he couldn’t help but think that she knew more than she was leading on. Not wanting to be caught in a lie, Greyson shrugged his shoulders for a second time. “Like I said, any group of friends has it’s drama.” He added, feeling slightly better now that he wasn’t lying. For someone that lied about how they felt constantly. Who practically mastered it. When it came to any other lie, he was a horrible liar. “There was this fight between Jules and Cassidy and Ash and I stepped in to try and I don’t know? Cool it down but things only got worse and Jules pushed Cassidy in the pool. It was pretty… Over the top.” It was the truth, a truth that everyone at the party had seen and something Greyson didn’t feel as though he was stepping on any toes for saying. 

Greyson puzzled her at times. He was so easy to mess with. She might of felt a little bad about that fact in the beginning but now it seemed that it was easy to push his buttons and get him to tell her things he most likely did not want to at all. He had a great mask, the rest of their friends seemed oblivious to the person that was hidden behind it or perhaps they didn’t care enough about anyone but themselves to realise there was something else lurking behind his perfect pretence. Dylan hated pretending, she hated the superficial or the fraudulent because it just got in the way of being who you were truly meant to be. His cover up about the party and how hard it was to get to elaborate only told her that he still wasn’t being completely honest.

“Drama? In this group? No way,” she gawked, she was a fan of the dramatics. She was playing it up, a grin on her face that told everyone that she was having the time of her life. She extended one leg under the table and nudged his leg with the front of her shoe, “Was it over you? Were they all fighting over who got to take you home?” 

She was so amused that she could barely contain herself, her eyes never leaving him, sparking with glee at how he would probably react but it didn’t matter much, nothing would erase her amusement. “I told you that you got handsome, didn’t I?” She was reminding him of the time before they had began their stand offs, the first day she had taken a wrecking ball through his world by exposing her relationship with Carmen, possibly a worse yet better time for them both. Dylan wouldn’t go back but she was sure Greyson might, he liked to escape things. 

She took his shrug as a no. He didn’t seem to be enjoying his cereal and he didn’t seem to be enjoying his Morning, she was sure he was probably not enjoying her company either from the glum expression on his face but, what was new? Dylan liked spending time with him, even if he didn’t enjoy it back. She felt like he needed someone to help him get out of his shell, or at least realise he was in a shell and maybe that someone would be her if she was just persistent enough. She leaned forwards, grabbing his arm and spooning some cereal onto it and before he could do anything about it, spooned it into her mouth. A line of milk trickled down her chin but she swallowed all the same, wiping it off with the back of her hand, “Yum,” It was soggy. Very soggy. Yuck. “Well, who won the battle? Who succeeded in winning the fair maid? That’s you by the way, just so we’re on the same page.”

It had been a long night that seemed to morph into the current day. Greyson didn’t sleep all that much and if it wasn’t for the clock on the bus, he probably wouldn’t have known it was morning and there would be some breakfast fixed up inside of the hotel. He’d more than likely still think it was night and spend however many more hours sitting in that damn bus by himself, waiting for time to tick down. Greyson had always been pretty great at minding his own business and doing his own thing but it seemed that party brought out the worst in him. If anything after last night, hiding out in an empty bus seemed like the most in character thing for him to do. At least he wasn’t getting himself into any trouble or messing with anyone’s head. 

As he sat at one of the tables with a bowl of cereal in front of him, Greyson clearly got the cereal for show being that the cereal was now soggy and the milk took on the color of the cereal. It was clear he wasn’t eating it and more so just wanted a reason to get out of the bus and make himself busy. It wasn’t all that much longer before he saw Dylan place the tray down on the table and watched as she sat across from him. There was a moment when seeing her that Greyson couldn’t help but tense up a little, their conversation hadn’t went on deaf ears and it was still something he was thinking about. He actually spent a lot of time thinking about it throughout the night, through this morning, and now here she was in the flesh all smiles. “Um, it was okay.” He answered, it was obviously a lie. The party was interesting and a little too much for Greyson’s taste. His conversation with Dylan, the fight that he stupidly stepped into with Ash, Julie, and Cass, when he left the party to check on Cass, when he flipped the fuck out, and last but not least when he got in yet another argument with Ash. 

For someone that liked to stay out of things, he seemed to be pulled towards it but that wasn’t something Dylan had to know, right? Then again, maybe she knew what had went on to some extant and she was just making conversation? Only to find out that he was being nonchalant about everything that had happened at the party? Or maybe he was reading too much into a simple question? Which would make sense, his mind wasn’t exactly working in his favor as of lately and the lack of sleep didn’t seem to help. “I don’t know?” He added with a shrug, “I’m starting to think putting us all back together might’ve been a bad idea.” 

"Really?” Her eyebrows rose. Maybe he was good at hiding things, maybe he made a habit of concealing the truth but Dylan’s beady little eyes had started to tear him to pieces. In front of her he was a deconstructed version of himself that only she could see and she could taste the inconsistency in the air, the look on his face, the expression and the way he spoke telling her that there was more to the story than he was letting on and she was both surprised and amused by the assumption that Greyson himself may have been involved in the drama after all. “I disagree,” she crunched through another bite of toast in the same manner as she had began, crumbs dropping everywhere, “I’m quite enjoying it.”

Oh, Dylan knew more than she was letting on, that was for sure, but she didn’t know everything. Perhaps she was nosy enough to assume she knew enough but there would always be more and she liked gossip, she liked to know all the sides of the story and all she had heard was Ash fuming around late at night talking to himself. She knew Ash well enough from their short lived high school relationship and the years they had remained after to cast some assumptions what might have caused such a strain or argument with them all being back together but she hadn’t asked yet. She wasn’t planning to bring it up until the dust had well and truly settled with that person but Greyson was a different story.

When she had finished eating her singular slice of toast, she took a well deserved break, sipping on her English breakfast tea for a few quiet moments. She wondered if the other was glad that she was finally quiet, she knew that he must find her talking tiring but Dylan never changed. She could talk for the world and she could talk to anyone about anything, it was both a blessing and a curse. “Are you eating that or just using it as a display?” She looked at the cereal then back at him, but another question quickly followed, “So, come on, what else happened? I know you’re keeping the air of mystery about you but I’m going to find out sooner or later. Like you said, we’re all together. You know what we all like to do together,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him, “Talk shit.”

It was when she entered the restaurant that she saw a familiar figure at a table but took a few moments to slide by. She wasn’t afraid to approach but she bid her time, fresh eyes skimming the buffet table and scooping food onto a plate before making her way around to the table. The tray met the table before she even considered lowering herself down, “Good Morning,” she chimed rather happily considering the conversation they had only the night before. Quickly, she plonked herself down on the chair across from him, pushing back some strands of hair that fell from her messy bun so she could see more clearly, picking up a piece of toast and taking a huge bite out of it rather unceremoniously, “So, did you enjoy the party?”

She waited for the answer, already knowing something had happened. It seemed that the night before had led to some drama considering the loud noises she had heard from outside, although she could not quite make out who was involved or why. Dylan was hungry for information but she was sure she could get it anywhere, not just from Greyson who honestly seemed like the least forthcoming human being on Earth. 

— DYLAN & greyson.

Greyson was possibly a complete idiot for not understanding why Dylan cared so much. Why she made it her mission to help him or.. Whatever it was she was trying to do when it came to him. He was possibly the biggest idiot in the world for not being able to understand where all of this was coming from. Or it just proved how much he didn’t give two shits about himself, he couldn’t wrap his mind around anyone else caring. In a way, Dylan and Greyson were so different and so far from similar but they also fought some of the same demons. They may have fought them in different ways but at the end of the day they were two people that struggled with themselves. It was much more difficult to see the struggle Dylan had with herself because she seemed to hold herself so strongly. While Greyson didn’t but all in all they were both people with broken pieces that still hadn’t been put back into place. 

Accepting someone’s genuine care was hard for Greyson. It seemed odd being that care and comfort was something people craved, it was something people needed whether they admitted to that or not. It was human to want that type of comfort in people. It made you feel less alone but it was something Greyson always had trouble accepting. When he was with Carmen he managed that relationship so well because yes, they did care about each other but they also wore somewhat of a facade around each other. They didn’t touch on things that were too much, they kept things on a very minimum when it came to feelings. They ignored the issues, which was exactly why things would’ve never really worked for them in the first place but Greyson became so comfortable in that relationship because he didn’t have to show anything he didn’t want to. Now, there was this girl standing in front of him, calling out all these obvious flaws he had that he tried so hard to hide, that was fully prepared to face the issues, and she still wanted to care about him? It didn’t make any sense to him. He didn’t know how to handle that. 

Instead of saying anything at all, Greyson stayed silent. Unable to say anything to her when she said she did care, when she said she wasn’t going to let him be nothing. He didn’t say a word because he didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t know how to accept that but there was also a part of him that didn’t want to keep telling her no. So instead he just looked at her for a moment before letting his eyes fall back to the ground. It was insane to think Dylan and Greyson were having these serious and intense conversations. They had never shared these kind of conversations with each other before but now here they were. A completely new dynamic to the two that Greyson didn’t expect. It seemed as though they were seeing different sides to each other that they didn’t know existed back when they were teenagers. Hell, if Greyson wasn’t pushing as much as he was, maybe he’d see something in Dylan that he didn’t really have with anyone else. Maybe they could help each other? 

Shaking his head a little when she brought up the fact that maybe he should forgive himself as well. Greyson knew he wouldn’t. He didn’t forgive himself. He felt stupid for not seeing the signs that things may have been simple in his high school relationship but they were extremely flawed and in their own way toxic. He couldn’t help but blame himself for so many things that went wrong and although he could get over this, he really could. It went deeper than a messed up high school relationship. It had a lot to do with Greyson himself and the toxic way he was programmed to handle things. — but once again, even though he shook his head, he didn’t say a word. Instead he looked back up at her and kept his lips sealed. 

The knee jerk reaction was to feel bad that he had made someone feel sad but also get defensive and say he wasn’t sad. The knee jerk reaction was to apologize for bringing her any type of sadness but to also deny the second part of her statement, to deny any type of sadness coming from him but she was right, wasn’t she? He was sad and all of this was making him sad. Of course, he was telling himself it wasn’t her that was making him sad but it was him. Willing to stack more blame on himself but instead of voicing any of that he just nodded his head this time. Again, his silence was evident and it was clear he wasn’t up for saying anything else. That he was practically accepting the fact that she would walk off in one direction and he’d walk off in the other. Accepting that this was the end of the conversation. 

He didn’t say anything. She hadn’t been expecting much but she had expected something but there they stood and she waited one beat then two, then three but still there was only silence. All the words she had served on a platter for him to consume and understand and he offered her none. She felt the sting of some unpleasant emotion she hadn’t had time for in years because it was the first time she’d ever expressed something negative and been met with absolutely nothing in return, it reminded her of her Mother all them years ago, the same nothingness about him that she had always feared seeing in another person. But this wasn’t her and her Mother, this wasn’t the Dylan she used to be and this wasn’t a moment that would last forever and she knew that, in her head (if not fully in her heart). Alcohol was in her blood and she was conscious that it only amplified her emotions in that moment. 

“Well,” she breathed in warm air trying to glimpse into the dark eyes that were so keen to avoid hers, hoping to see at least some recognition of the importance of this moment or this conversation resonating with him. “Good night.”

She hung around for only a few moment longer, knowing that she would soon be in her room without Holland drinking a bottle of Jack Daniels she had stuffed in the bottom of the holdall she packed to bring. Soon, she would probably be off ranting on social media about some other cause, some other thing. She backed away then, “Take care, Grey,” she told him gently before turning and walking away. 

— DYLAN & greyson. 

This was something Greyson clearly had a difficult time with. He didn’t know how to process these emotions correctly. All he knew was to blame himself for everything wrong in his life. All he knew was to make himself the bad guy, all he knew was to let this hurt and this pain take him over. Greyson was a pretty quiet person and most wouldn’t even realize he was constantly at war with himself on a day to day basis and there was a comfort in that. There was a comfort in people looking over the obvious flaws that the male had. It was easier being seen as the guy that always had his head in a book, or the guy that was always writing. It was easy being the shy guy or the slightly dorky guy. That was a lot easier than letting anyone see how completely and utterly flawed he was. Which was exactly why it was so difficult standing there in front of Dylan. Someone that saw the flaws and pointed them out. 

"I don’t want to be anything, Dylan.” Greyson breathed out the words, almost as if he was defeated. There was no question that Dylan was superior to him when it came to speaking and voicing what she had to voice. Greyson was much better at putting words on paper, he wasn’t all that great when it came to voicing things, especially things like this. So maybe the defeated tone in his voice wasn’t all that surprising but it felt as if he was getting punched in the gut far too many times and he didn’t know if he wanted to keep fighting or wave the white flag. The truth was he knew what Dylan wanted him to say or how she wanted him to react but he couldn’t get himself to. He was programmed to hold all that in. Growing up and getting wired to act a certain way, it stuck with a person. Even though the person that worked so hard to control them was nowhere to be seen. Greyson was still a slave to the mentality. 

"I don’t wanna be the victim or the bad guy… I don’t wanna be anything, okay? Maybe I’m okay with being nobody or just a reflection? Maybe I’m content with that.” Again, the words fell from his lips in a tired tone as he looked at the blonde due to the fact that she had forced him to do so. If she hadn’t grabbed him and forced him to look at her, he’d more than likely be looking away in order to hide whatever expression was taking over his features. “Why is this so important to you?” He asked, honestly. "Why do you wanna get to know me? Is it guilt? What’s the point of it?” Greyson asked again, he couldn’t wrap the idea around his head that she wanted to get to know the guy he was today. It didn’t make sense to him. Or maybe he just didn’t know how to let her get to know the guy he was because he didn’t even know who he was anymore? He let himself get lost in translation a long time ago. 

There were so many things Greyson wanted to say but also so many things he didn’t know how to say or didn’t want to say. He wanted to tell her that maybe it was pathetic but what she did to him years ago hurt him. He felt lied to, he felt secondary but all those things… He didn’t want to say out loud due to how selfish it sounded. He didn’t want to make it all about himself because he knew things didn’t work that way. It wasn’t like Dylan and Cameron made a point of going behind his back because it was him, because he was an easy target to fool. It wasn’t anything like that. They were all young dumb teenagers, things happen and Greyson just had to keep telling himself that until this hurt he felt faded away… Right? 

Then there was the side of him that was angry. Angry that Dylan had the nerve to try and pull something out of him. Something he didn’t want to show or feel. Something he’d much rather let eat him away because that’s what he’d always done. He felt angry that she felt like she had the right to be this person in his life that told him to stop degrading himself and sure… There was a possibility that everything Greyson was feeling was over the top. That he had to get over it but when people let things eat at them they tended to let things build and build in their head instead of coming face to face with it and working through it and that’s exactly what Greyson was doing. He was letting this get into his head and go at him at full force. 

At the same time, looking at her. Being confused by her need to be there for him while also calling him out. Watching her struggle to break down the walls he built up… He also couldn’t help but feel bad. He felt bad for the way he was acting. He felt sorry for putting her through all of this when he had the ability to make things easier. He had the ability to put everything out on the table and end it all. Put both their minds at ease but he didn’t. So even though he didn’t want to be the victim or the bad guy — she was right. He did put both those masks on and wear them far too well. Honestly, Dylan was right about a lot of things but Greyson didn’t want to look at the full picture. He wanted to stay in this small bubble he had put himself into that was anything but healthy. 

“You don’t have to pretend to care or… Maybe you do? — and if you do then don’t. If this whole thing is because you want forgiveness, I forgive you. Maybe I should be thanking you honestly… If you hadn’t come along and anyone else that Cameron was with hadn’t then we’d find a way to trap each other in a relationship that clearly wasn’t working. We’d continue forcing something that wasn’t there.” Was this his version of waving a white flag? It seemed like it but he should’ve known Dylan better than to think this would end anything. Greyson was clearly saying anything to stop it. To end this sensory overload filled conversation. 

Maybe I’m okay with being nobody. Her hand dropped away, there was something so incredibly sad about that sentence. Everything she was saying seemed to bounce back at her as if her own words should be forced back down her throat. The truth was that Dylan was always honest but she only knew how to campaign, she only knew how to be at the front of a picket line screaming at the top of her lungs for what she wanted. She knew her cause and she desperately demanded a resolution. She knew how to write a proposal, how to turn up to a protest, she even knew how to fly half way around the world in order to make a difference but she didn’t know how to communicate any better that she feared that if somebody decided they were equivalent to nothing that their time and their life would always be horribly limited. 

“I do care.” She had said it a million times already but she said it once more. Maybe it was crazy of her, maybe it was crazy of them both that in a sea of people they had once known that two that had barely known each other all those years ago other than in passing were now engaged in blazing rows and bizarre confrontations. But, Dylan hadn’t seen back then what she saw now, she had not seen that looming darkness and she had not seen so clearly something that she didn’t want to. Something she didn’t know how to fix. “And this matters. Because I’m not gonna let you be nobody.”

She paused and drained the end of her bottle, a drink she felt like had lasted a lifetime or two between this conversation. The truth was that she may have been a good time girl, she may have enjoyed to drink and laugh and party but this conversation was draining for her tonight. It went around in loops and she couldn’t seem to get through to him, his walls were so high that she wasn’t sure if they were walls or he was inside a box that he had inflicted upon himself. Maybe if he had known her a little better, or been looking, he would of seen that for a girl as hard and as brash as her, there was something gentle in her approach, an investment in him that she had never seemed to have in anybody else, even herself. 

“Thanks,” she responded in a dry tone. Forgiveness. Atonement. She wasn’t interested. She had forgiven herself most of her mistakes and these ones weren’t old scars anymore for her, they were ancient history. She knew that the man in front of her that was happy being a reflection was a collection of things, not a result of her teenage mishaps. She would never regret Carmen, she had cared for her deeply but it was the past now. “But maybe you should use some of that forgiveness for yourself instead.”

She looked at him and her green eyes were darker, stormier almost than before, full of words that had already been spoken but more than that; sadness. “You’re making me sad, Greyson,” she told him honestly, her cards were always on the table and even if he was unable to be emotionally honest then it didn’t change the fact that she always was. “And I’m making you sad, too. Although maybe you don’t even know that,” she pointed out. She pressed her lips together and paused for a few seconds as she glanced around the party preparing to walk away, “And that’s what’s real, isn’t it?”

If Greyson could, he’d take it all back. He’d take back getting involved with Carmen, he’d take back being apart of the group of people he was on that road trip with, he’d take back the friendship, the relationships, he’d take back the pain. Then again, was that really true? If he thought about it, if he wasn’t trying to run as far from himself as he currently and always had been, he’d see that he wouldn’t take any of it back. He wouldn’t take back this moment right now either. As much as he wanted to walk away, tell her to leave him alone, to drop it — he wouldn’t take it back because truth be told, Dylan was probably the only person he knew that didn’t walk on eggshells around him. That didn’t see him and see someone sweet and shy like almost everyone else saw. She wasn’t sugarcoating anything and really, Dylan may have been the only person that didn’t lie to his face. Even he lied to his face. 

The bluntness that radiated from Dylan wasn’t something Greyson was used to. He’d always dealt with people that shut a part of themselves off, that made themselves more presentable to the people around them. Even his father did it and that man didn’t have a civil bone in his body. Everyone was fake, everyone was a liar… That’s what Greyson started believing as he got older and saw more things himself. — Maybe Dylan’s truth was a truth Greyson didn’t want to hear but at least she wasn’t hiding behind a concrete wall. At least she was putting everything she felt and thought out there. That didn’t make it any harder to listen to and it didn’t mean that he was going to agree with her. It just meant that deep down he could see it, even if at times he seemed completely diluted. 

Looking at her, Greyson had never been great at holding eye contact with people he was having a conversation with. It was something he’d always struggled with. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he was shy? Maybe it was because he didn’t want anyone seeing what really lied behind his hazel eyes? Maybe it was because he didn’t think he deserved any of it? Or maybe it was a little of everything, mixing and going at war in his head but he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t look at her for long before his eyes fell off her again. “I… I don’t…” In all honesty, he’d never thought of it that way. He’d never thought of the fact that Dylan was left behind as well and he should’ve. He told himself he should’ve — he was so good at looking at every point. Of seeing every angle. Yet he didn’t let himself see hers. Greyson was always quick to throw some if not all of the blame on himself. Telling himself, he was selfish for not seeing the full picture. Blaming himself for the way things went with his ex, blaming himself for not letting himself notice just how miserable they both were together. “I know I’m not the only victim, alright?” Greyson could feel the way his heart started to pound, trying his hardest not to falter but failing as the hurt he felt started to pile over. 

“You think I don’t think about how we’re all at fault?” He asked, letting the words fall from his lips despite how hard his heart was beating. “You think I don’t see how much I’m to blame for all of it? — I know I’m not a victim. If anything it’s my fault for blinding myself to every sign and shutting that part of my mind off. Ignoring the logical part of my brain… I knew… I knew Carmen wasn’t happy with me but I didn’t say a word… I had an idea that she was cheating on me but I didn’t say anything about that either, I let myself believe the bullshit because I was selfish.” There was a possibility that what Greyson was saying was from a point of view that looked poorly on himself, hell, that was a very possible thing to assume. That he was hard on himself and ready to wear everything on his shoulders but part of it was true. Even if it was deep down, even if back then he didn’t know it was true because of all the denial he was in, he still fully believed that everything that happened to him, every bad thing, was well deserved. Greyson could feel the anger boiling in his veins and honestly he didn’t know if that anger was geared towards himself or Dylan? At himself for being so completely pathetic or at her for causing him to feel as if he was snapping into two. 

"You don’t know me, Dylan… So whoever you see, whatever you think you know, or however much you think I hate-” Greyson cut himself off, he knew that Dylan was right about him. He did turn to vices because of how much self hatred he had, he was alone, and he did lock himself away but the thing was, she could look him in the face all she wanted, see who she saw, but Greyson couldn’t do it. He couldn’t look in the mirror because he knew he’d be disappointed with what he saw. “You don’t know me,” he repeated, “— and whatever this is, whatever you’re trying to do, it’s a waste of your time.” 

"We’re all victims, Greyson.” The words were cold as they left her lips, resentment dripping from them. She couldn’t believe that in that moment he had found a way to blame himself for all of the things that she had said, as if he could both only see her fault and only see his own. He wasn’t the paradox that he appeared to be but he was an idiot for sure. Whatever was hardwired into his head, seemed to be the complete opposite of hers. Here she was trying to present the bigger picture, how none of them were really in control of their tattered past, and here he stood, shifting everything back onto his own shoulders, “ I’m starting to think you want to be the victim and the bad guy.”

She was stubborn but so was he. It felt like going around in circles over and over again. Dylan was used to going around in her own circles, loops of actions and consequences that she never learnt from but she wasn’t used to this. “Carmen is a human. I’m a human. You’re a human. We are allowed to make mistakes. We are allowed to be wrong and we are allowed to feel betrayed, hurt, anything the hell we want. That’s the thing. You can’t help how you feel. You’re not meant to be able to at least.”

She blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Her head seemed to move on it’s own, a slow and dismissive shake back and forth. A look of utter resignation on her face, not because she was giving up on him, deeper than that, she knew so well that he had already given up on himself. And it may have been the souring taste of alcohol, or it may have been a few too many twisted memories at the back of her mind, but she remembered too well the face of other people who had just given up on themselves, on their right to change and better themselves. On their right to deal with and process the things that hurt them most.

“You keep saying that. Just stop.” Her hands rose to her head, slapping herself lightly in the sides of her face in sheer frustration. “I don’t know you. Nobody knows you. You win. You’re totally unknowable. Alone and indifferent.”

She sighed, it was a light sound. Much lighter than the words that had been leaving her lips because now she was the one who looked away and then back at him, with a kind of distant hollowness, because she could only think of all the people in the world that nobody really knew, that found their own way to deal with their anger and sadness. “The difference between me and you is, I’m trying to give you a chance to know me, as I am now. But you won’t even give me that,” she told him in a quieter voice, “There are so many great things, great people in this world and you’re going to miss out on them because you’re just a reflection. Nothing more than that.”

— DYLAN & greyson. 

Greyson’s initial thought was to keep denying, was to keep running from everything Dylan had to say, everything she was right about. He didn’t want to admit anything to her because it was true. Greyson was the type of person that internalized everything, he was the type of person that ran away from the hurt, he was the type of person that tried to hide how much he was hurting from everyone around him. He’d rather lie through his teeth, wear a smile on his face, or express no emotion at all in order to hide what he was feeling. It was the way he grew up, internalizing everything and anything he felt. His father didn’t let him feel anything and if he did Greyson was rewarded with physical and mental abuse from the man. It was as if you beat a defenseless dog, every time you raised your hand to that dog, it’d flinch in fear or run. Greyson had the same tactic. He’d express something and still to this day flinch at the action and do everything he could to cover it up, to run. 

Maybe that made him a weak man — Dylan was much stronger than him. She wasn’t fearful and if she was she pushed through the fears, she was strong. She didn’t let anything stop her from what she felt or thought. It was something admirable but also something Greyson didn’t know if he’d ever be able to completely understand being that he was the complete opposite. Furrowing his eyebrows at her question, Greyson swallowed what felt like a rock down his throat. There was so much he was holding in, he could hardly swallow it and it really may have been torture for him. Greyson wanted Dylan to let it go, despite the fact that the male held onto things as tightly as he did, he wanted her to pretend none of it mattered. Let him drown in his own self pity. It’d be much easier that way… Or that’s what Greyson told himself. At the end of the day it was extremely hard. It was hard putting every pressure and ounce of pain on his shoulders. To never vent, or feel the pain or the hurt in a way that wasn’t internal. It was extremely hard to breathe with the way Greyson let things build inside him. 

Unable to look at her, in fear that he’d show something he didn’t want to, something that she’d already pointed out, Greyson turned his head to the side, directing his gaze to the ground. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The male spoke under his breath. What she was saying was true, he was lonely, he was sad, he was hurting, he was delusional, and full of shit. “W-why do you even care?” Greyson asked, finally looking at her. She may have been shorter than him but he felt small compared to her. He felt as if he was the one looking up at her. “It’s not like you ever really… Gave a shit anyways… Right?” The words slipped from his lips and he couldn’t help but want to take them back and hide, again. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Greyson knew he was like a brick wall, it was extremely hard to get anywhere with the male. He couldn’t even open up to Carmen, he couldn’t open up to his best friend, his lack of opening up and trust issues made it almost impossible for him to have any one else in his corner but after running from himself for so long, it was hard to let any of those walls fall. 

He couldn’t look her in the eye, as dark as his were, they were nothing in comparison tot he storm brewing in hers. All her rage, all her frustration at him. This man in front of him that she had not seen in years, that people would of said she had no right to be so mad at. She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him into something in his brain woke up and reminded him that he was alive. There was nothing that she thought worse than merely existing, than standing right here in front of her and spewing words with absolutely no meaning over and over again. 

“I can leave you alone, I just don’t want to,” she told him, realisation striking her only then that maybe, just maybe, that was truly all he wanted, all he was used to -- being left alone to accept whatever the hell had gone on around him. Dylan was unprepared for everything in her life, she jumped into things with no idea how they would turn out, she had done a million things that people didn’t understand and she had left people behind so easily that she hadn’t even realised it caused pain. She had let her mouth get ahead of her so many times, but she had never, ever, given up on anyone. It wasn’t easy. But it was worth it. 

Words were spilling out of her faster than she could even contain them, and maybe they were words that she shouldn’t of been saying but it had never stopped her before, “Do you think you’re the only one who was a victim, Greyson?” she asked, “Yeah, what I did was shitty but I’m sure I wasn’t the first or the last. I was just another person that Carmen needed to find herself and then I was left on the wayside, just like you. And I’m sorry, I really am, but I can’t help but think that maybe you and Carmen were the two least incompatible people in the world because neither of you knew a damn thing about yourselves to begin with."

It was too late to stop herself. 

“I don’t feel guilty and I won’t,” she snapped angrily, her eyes burning with anger now, trying to force him to respond. She would say anything for a response, but all of these things were true. “What’s the point?" she was asking him, she was pleading with him for a response that would satisfy her need. She needed him to say something, she wanted him to break, to scream, to let it out. She wanted him to break things, tell her she was a bitch. She wanted something. “So go ahead and lock yourself away and pick your own vice because with how much you hate yourself, you must have one. What do you see when you look in the mirror? Do you see what I see right now?”