In 1988 when Dylan Montgomery moves to Beverly Hills after her mother remarries, she must navigate the challenges of fitting into a glamorous but daunting upper-class life. Living across from the charmingly cocky Nicholas and his introspective broth...
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UPPER CLASS | cherriasian
march '89
Dylan stands in front of her closet, pulling open drawers, trying to figure out what to wear for Marissa's birthday get together. The day feels like it's crawling by, and she's got a million things to do before heading out. She reaches for her phone to call Christian, trying to sound as normal as possible, though the tension between them has been building in ways she's not entirely sure how to fix.
The truth is, things with Christian have been off lately, and she can't quite place why. She feels like she's wearing a mask whenever they're together—like she's just playing a part in his perfect, shiny life.
When they first started seeing each other, everything seemed so... right. He was charming, always impeccably dressed, his life an endless parade of tennis matches, expensive restaurants, and a level of sophistication Dylan wasn't used to. Christian was the kind of guy who had everything figured out, the kind of guy who expected the world to revolve around him. He was always bringing her flowers, sending her thoughtful (but overly expensive) gifts, and speaking so highly of himself it was hard not to get swept up in it all.
Christian had a way of talking that was always just a little bit condescending, as if everything he said had to be the final word on the subject. Whether it was belittling someone for their taste in music or dismissing her dream of going to Princeton just because he thought Harvard was better, it grated on her. It wasn't that he wasn't smart or capable—he was. It's just that he thought he was better than everyone else, including her. And that attitude, subtle as it was, didn't sit well with Dylan. It started to weigh on her.
She looks down at the flowers from him sitting on her desk—expensive roses in a pristine vase. They're beautiful, but they're not her. They don't feel like something she'd pick for herself. None of the gifts he's given her have. They're always so... polished. So perfect. So Christian. It's as though he doesn't really see her at all—just a person to impress with his wealth and status.
The phone rings twice before he picks up.
"Hey," Dylan says, trying to sound upbeat, adjusting the sleeves of her top as she takes a deep breath. "I just wanted to let you know what I'm doing today. I'll be heading over to Marissa's for her birthday, just a small thing with her and some of our friends, but I'll be back later tonight."
There's a brief pause, and she can almost hear the shift in Christian's tone when he responds. "Alright. Marissa... Marissa's the dark haired one?" His voice sounds oddly sharp trying to pinpoint the name to a face even though they've obviously met before.
"Uh, yeah," Dylan says, her brow furrowing slightly. "It's her birthday, Christian. It's just a quick thing. I'll be back after."
"And you're getting a ride from..." Christian's voice trails off, and she knows exactly where he's headed. "From Nicholas, right?"
