Welcome To The Media (Dylmas AU)

23. The First Date

Thomas's pov

38 days remaining

Dyl: where you @ you hoe

Me: on my way bitch
Me: sorry dilly-dally

Dyl: do you want to fucking die

I lightly smiled at Dylan's texts, placing my phone down on the bathroom counter. Walking carefully so as to avoid slipping on the wet floor, I sidled over to the other end of the room to hang up my damp towel. The room was steamy and hot from my last shower still, making it feel quite sticky on my pasty skin. I turned back to the counter, straightening my shirt as I did so.

Biting my lip, I hesitated in front of the large mirror that stretched the length of the bathroom. The temperature of my steaming shower had in turn fogged the mirror, creating a large, opaque expanse of glass in front of me. Raising my hand from my side, I lightly moved to wipe away the steam, the mirror cool on my clammy palm. Small drops of condensation formed at the edges of the space I just cleared, like teardrops on a torn canvas.

I looked at my reflection for a moment. Would Dylan like it? I had chosen each item of clothing with extreme care tonight, from my light gray button-up shirt to my beige khakis. I knew Dylan wasn't a big fan of my "tough guy, leather jacket" look, so I decided that I'd don a more innocent appearance for our date. I tussled my hair a bit and pushed it up off my forehead, practicing my smile as I did so. For now, this would have to do. Dylan was already waiting for me downstairs.

Reaching down to grab my phone again, I smiled when I saw I had a few more messages from Dylan, all sent in rapid succession. I scrolled through them slowly, fighting off the large grin creeping up on my lips as I read his many death threats if I didn't get my butt downstairs immediately. I began moving towards the door, but at the last second, glanced up at the mirror again.

And suddenly it was as if my legs had forgotten how to move. I froze, looking at the steaming expanse of impenetrable glass, knowing that my reflection was hidden by that blank veil. The space I had previously cleared had already re-fogged, and all I saw was a cloudy white surface.

Was I ready to do this? My heartbeat seemed to suddenly spike as I thought about my reality, about my date. What if it went sour? Or worse, what if it went well?

I blinked, dazed slightly from my last thought. I couldn't afford to think like that. Thinking like that would mean Dylan would get hurt. And as much as I hated to admit it, I didn't want him to get hurt.

The smile that had been growing on my lips suddenly melted away, like snow on a warm spring day. My hands fell to my sides, and my shoulders sagged, rejected. The steam on the mirror slowly began to ebb away, but I was still slightly obscured. I stared levelly, my body still not completely in view.

And suddenly, with the force of a torrential wind, it hit me; I was a steamed up mirror, a prisoner hiding behind an opaque veil of lies. Dylan would never really, clearly see me--maybe if he was lucky he'd see glimpses of movement or shadowed reflections of who I really was, but he'd never get a full, uninterrupted sight of my true personality. The figure staring back at him would never be the authentic version of my motives and personality, because I, as a foggy mirror, would always be hiding something; I'd always be hiding the truth.

I must have been standing there longer than I knew, because by the time I came back to reality, the mirror was cleared. There I was; the only explicit, unambiguous version of myself that would ever exist. When the steam faded and the mirror was plain, that's when Dylan would finally see me, see the deceit and the lies that had laced my voice since our very first meeting. He would finally see the person staring back at me in the mirror, unable to hide anymore.