Welcome To The Media (Dylmas AU)

5. Cast Meetings

Dylan's pov

"Oh my god, Dylan! Get up! You're going to be late!"

My groggy flew eyes opened to be faced by a blank white wall. Slowly I registered my surroundings; the pillow under my head didn't feel quite right, the blankets scratched my skin-- where was I? Surely not my room.

"C'mon Dylan! Get your lazy ass up!" I vaguely heard again.

I rolled over onto my back with a loud groan to assess the scene. My thoughts moved as slow as molasses, up until a pillow came crashing across my face. "Mmmffk," I complained, still unmoving.

"We overslept, get up!" And suddenly Emma was in my line of vision, her hair wild and her eyes wide.

Emma. Pillows. Uncomfortable bedding. Hotel.

I'm in a hotel. April 24th. Castmates.

"Dylan, your first meeting is in ten minutes!" Emma's shrill voice pierced my ears.

My slow thoughts sped up and hit me like a freight train. Sadly, the only thought speeding along the tracks was holy shit holy shit holy shit I have a cast meeting and I cannot be late.

I shot out of bed, barely staying on my feet as I tripped into the bathroom. I was in the shower in seconds, nearly falling when the cold water cascaded down my skin; then I was out, picking up my t-shirt and sweatpants from the night and throwing them on.

"Five minutes!" I heard. I tugged at my hair, trying to look half-decent. Dammit, why did we leave our luggage at the airport? All I had with me were the clothes on my back and a few essential items. Luckily, my toothbrush was included in my small carry-on, so at least I wouldn't smell too.

"Dylan, we have to go!" Emma shouted by the door. I cast another glance in the bathroom, restraining myself from groaning at my appearance.Way to make a good impression, Dylan, showing up looking like trash. Real proffesional.

I couldn't dwell on my sunken eyes or my still-dripping hair. Instead, I shoved my phone in my pocket, jammed my feet in my sneakers, amd was out the door on Emma's heels.

The elevator has never moved slower, and by the time we were in the hotel lobby, I had one minute to get to the meeting. Luckily, everyone partaking in the making of this movie was scheduled to stay at this hotel, so the cast meeting was being held in one of the conference rooms down the hall.

"I'm not supposed to go, it's room 12B! Run!" Emma said from behind me. I dashed out of the elevator before the doors had even opened fully, stumbling on my untied sneakers.

My eyes scanned the plaques labeling each room as I ran down the dark hallway, and I skidded to a halt in front of 12B. I took a deep breath to compose myself, then leaned against the closed door, slowly creaking it open.

But of course, I'm me, and nothing ever goes as smoothly as I plan it to.

The next seconds were quite possibly the worst of my life.

I seemed to have forgotten my untied shoelaces as I stepped in, so of course, when I raised my left food, the lace got caught under my other shoe, and before I even knew what was happening, I was falling. Falling fast too, my hands grappling out frantically in search of something to grab hold of.

That of course, only resulted with me latching on to the suit of some old man. I continued my descent towards embarrassment, and the floor, as a tearing sound ripped through the air; it was followed almost immediately with the clunk of my body hitting the ground.

The air whooshed out of my lungs, and I clampered to my feet as quickly as possible, my face a flaming red. I looked at the man with the ripped sleeve, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. He looked down on me with an unamused glare, so I said, "Uh-s-Sorry. Um, maybe I could--" I placed the cloth piece over the patch I had ripped, patting it like that would fix it. "Um, there you go. Just-um, don't move your arm?"