Disappeared [ Dylan Sprayberry Fanfic ]

Chapter 9

Bridget's POV
"Daniel." I grabbed the sleeve of his thick sweatshirt. He turned back, glancing up from his phone.
"What's wrong?" I squeezed his sleeve until my knuckles turned white,
"I'm afraid." Daniel turned to face me, his breath swirling out in front of him in a white fog.
"I get it," He said sympathetically,
"But that's why i'm with you, remember? Moral support."
I sighed,
"Somehow I don't feel any better."
He looked offended.
"I know I don't  bench 300 pounds but i'm pretty sure I can--"
"That's not what I meant." I dropped my eyes. I knew very well he could take care of me, but what I didn't know if he was able to stop the break down that would inevitably follow Tyler's words. Nor do I think he'd ever want to hang out with me again after seeing me that way.
"Come on, we're almost there." Daniel pointed to the huge hotel looming in the distance, and smiled at me. I smiled back.

I followed him despite the feeling in my gut telling me to run back and hide. A cold wind blew straight through my sweater stinging my skin, another reminder of time passing by without him. We approached the interstate where Dylan had been hit. I could've sworn if I squinted hard enough I was able to see puddles of dark red blood staining the road--
I shook my head, and rubbed my face tiredly. Why can't I get over it?
Daniel looked back at me suspiciously, as if he was checking to see if I would throw myself out into on coming traffic. I wasn't that desperate, was I?
I picked up the pace to match his stride.
"What do you wanna do after this?" He asked suddenly, staring at his boots.
"Huh?" I could see his cheeks turning pink underneath his brown hair.
"I took off work today, so I was thinking you know, we could maybe...do something? Like hang out or...something?" He brushed hair forward over his eyes, so I couldn't see them. I didn't say anything at first, just stared at the sidewalk in awkward silence. Daniel and I had never intentionally went out together, by ourselves. We always had Crystal or Dylan with us--
I cleared my throat.
"Okay."
"Okay." Daniel repeated, nodding his head.

Soon, we were standing in front of a White House big estate. Marble stairs led up to the entrance where a doorman stood guard waving people in kindly, the double door itself was made out of some kind of dark-colored glass, embroidered with the insignia of a top notch company I couldn't quite put my finger on. As we made our way up the stairs, the front of the hotel became even more detailed. The stories were stacked high with timeless balconies decorated with what looked like grape vines, spotless double paned windows, and glass doors that marked the start of a suite.
"Whoa." Daniel and I harmonized, looking at each other in awe. From the looks of it my family wouldn't be able to afford a night's  stay here if they saved for the rest of our lives.
The doorman smiled at us as we approached him. His eyes crinkled along with his smile, and he bowed his hat.
"Evening," He looked at Daniel. For a second I thought he was going to raise a prayer cross and try to exercise him.
"Your girlfriend's quite the beauty, stay close to her son." The doorman beckoned us inside before either of us could object. I didn't have to tell Daniel I was embarrassed, he probably could tell by the way my head was darting around like a bee, admiring the scenery. And trust me, it was something to buzz about.
Gigantic marble columns flew to the vaulted ceiling seeming almost endless, the floor I was standing on seemed like ballroom tiles from Cinderella, the lights were low and romantic hanging over velvet love seats and old furnaces, each of the surrounding wall's had intricate dove's taking flight towards the ceiling, which was painted like Heaven, naked baby cherubs with harps and puffy clouds.

Daniel whistled impressively, as he guided me through the crowd of CEO's,  inventers, and who knows what else.
Not only did I feel insecure being at civilian level, I felt severely under dress. I wondered if they were, in fact, going to hold a ball. The looks we were getting didn't make me feel any better, like I was some gang banger looking to shoot up the place. We stood at the mahogany front desk, Daniel wrapping his knuckles against the surface idly as I shuffled, uncomfortable in my own skin. How could Tyler afford a place like this? Mrs. Tasha had clearly told me, "Apartment", not 5 star hotel.
An elderly man popped up from behind the desk, showing off a tuxedo and bow tie, the breast pocket baring the same insignia as the front door. He slammed his hand over top of Daniel's, and smiled.
"There is a bell, boy," He pointed with a pale finger towards the silver bell sitting next to my arm.
"Sorry." Daniel didn't exactly sound apologetic as he removed his drummer hands from the desk, brushing my arm in the process.
"Before you waste my time, no, we do not give out free food samples." The man's mustache twisted along with his eyebrows.
"Oh darn, looks like we teenagers walked all this way for nothing, Mr. Ackerman." Daniel parroted in a posh British accent, twisting one of the rings purposefully in his ear. Mr. Ackerman rolled his eyes, and unclipped brass clasp keeping the leather book of guests together.
"I assume you're here to see someone?" He replied glumly, raising his eyebrows at me.
"Um yes. Tyler Hoechlin? Is he here?" I asked doubtfully, maybe Mrs. Tasha had given me the wrong address.
Mr. Ackerman's eyes widened and his grey eyebrows shot up,
"Mr. Hoechlin? Uh yes," He closed the leather book,
"Are you Bridget?" I nodded, trying not to look confused. Tyler was expecting me?
"Floor 6. Suite 43." Mr. Ackerman bowed hastily before gesturing to the elevator.
"Thanks, man." Daniel waved victoriously, and pulled me through a group of people in white suits before I could thank him properly.
"What was that?" I whispered furiously once we were inside the elevator.
"Did you see the way Sir Tight Ass was looking at us? Thought I'd give him a taste of what a stereotypical teenager was really like." He explained defensively, leaning against the rail as the little box began to shoot skyward.
"Still, it wasn't the right thing to do--" I stared down at the Persian carpet. Daniel and I looked up at each other and busted out laughing, by the time the door opened we were leaning against the wall's trying to catch our breath.