something immortal. ✔(dylan o'brien)

𝟎𝟔.

ᴄᴏᴍɪᴄ-ᴄᴏɴ

---

"𝑯𝒆𝒚, can we talk please?" I question cautiously hoping that the voicemail I left wasn't sounding too nervous or something. I didn't want to worry about breaking up with Timothee, and Comic-Con, and Dylan. Not that I was thinking and stressing over Dylan, I was just worrying about what I had said to him after filming that scene. About how I told myself I was going to break up with Timothee because I liked someone else. 

Comic-Con was at 7 : 00 pm tonight, and I was on my way to break up with Timothee right now and it was around 5 o'clock. I still haven't even decided what I was going to wear to Comic-Con, and I still needed to do my makeup for the event, and my hair of course. 

Once I made it to Timothee's house, paparazzi were everyone, flashing cameras all in my face, I tried to cover my face up as best as I could, but nothing could get past the paparazzi. 

I used my extra key to open his door quickly, trying to get away from all the cameras. I breathed out a shaky sigh once the door was shut and I was free for the next twenty minutes at least. 

"Hey Madeline, what did you want to talk about?" I hear Timothee come through the room from the kitchen, his curly hair falling over his forehead gracefully. I smiled sympathetically at him quickly before I followed him into the living room to talk. 

I had to do this quickly, like a bandaid. Quick and painful. 

"I think we should talk about us..." I state calmly, trying to hint to him what I was trying to get at without actually having to say it. 

"Oh?"

I took a deep breath and I waved my hands around in gestures to really try and get my point across, however I don't think it was working too well for me. 

"I dont think we should continue to see each other anymore, I realize now that I am not comfortable with the public knowing about us, and I would honestly prefer to keep our relationship friendly and professional." I explained quickly, adding a it of sadness and empathy into my tone, hoping that this wouldn't be a messy breakup.

He just flinched a bit, giving an awkward smile as he glanced around nervously before finally meeting my gaze again. 

"Oh, I understand that." He muttered under his breath loudly before standing up slowly and leading me back towards the front door. I honestly wished it could have ended a bit more friendlier, but I know that it could have ended much worse than that, and I should be grateful for the circumstances.

˚ · • . ° .

I looked in the mirror, hoping everything was good and that I was ready to go to Comic-Con. I was wearing a tight crop top, strapless of course, along with some dress pants and a large belt around my slim waist, with some black high heels. It was a simple outfit, but I didn't have a lot of time to plan my outfit, so I just went to the mall and bought this. My hair was long and curly, and my makeup was mostly a natural look, but the eyeshadow was a bit more darker matte. 

My fear started to build up in my body, the nerves bubbling up inside of me as the event got closer and closer by the minute. In about five minutes I had to go up on stage in front of hundreds of people and talk.