Parallels | Dylan O'Brien

6 - The Photoshoot

-Lydia Moon-

When I walk back into the conference room where I had left those guys and my apparently alive uncle, they all stare at me with worry in their eyes. They almost look like the Tanner gang in Full House when they need to tell little Michelle Papouli is dead. I quickly shake off the feeling by adjusting my hair and walking inside the room to grab my stuff.

"Where are you going?" my uncle asks, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Anywhere but here," I reply shortly and make my way out of the door again.
"Hey, Lydia, wait!" I hear someone shout behind me. I stop abruptly to look the brown-haired guy in the eyes. I raise my eyebrows to ask what he wants without actually using the words. "What would you say if I took you to our promo shoot for season six of Teen Wolf?" he suggests. I furrow my eyebrows, not understanding what he's on about. "There are going to be loads of cameras to capture your beauty as well?" he tries again. He has me at the word 'cameras' and I bet he can tell that I'm interested.
"Fine," I say as cold as possible. The boy smiles and grabs my arm gently to lead me towards the conference room again. My uncle explains to me that I need to accompany them to L.A. for the promo shoot the boy just told me about as if I actually work for him. I stare at him as if he's crazy, but I eventually give in. I don't think I have another choice.

-Dylan O'Brien-

So, we brought her to the hotel we were staying in for one night and the next day, we hop on a plane to LAX. Once in L.A., Lydia starts looking around as if she has never been here. Well, she hasn't. Not this Lydia at least. I look at her for a moment. It's so bizarre that she's not the Lydia I met in primary school. It's not the one I graduated with, not the one I wanted to take on a date.
"Never been to L.A. before?" I ask her just for the sake of making conversation. She looks at me and it seems as if she's debating answering me or not.
"I have when I was really little, so I don't remember any of it," I nod in response, getting where she comes from. "Why am I here anyway? How did I get here?" she asks silently, but I heard it. Now, I have to come up with a plausible lie. Richard told us not to tell her as it would definitely set her off. I agree with her. The way she reacted to us and to her own uncle is reason enough to lie to her. However, I hate lying and I pretty much suck at it, which is weird considering I'm an actor. That reminds me I have to go shoot for American Assassin tomorrow and there's also an interview for Deepwater Horizon. How am I going to get Lydia to come with me? How am I going to tell her how she got here in L.A., in a completely different universe than hers? I look over to her as she admires LA's beauty. The fact that she looks exactly like my Lydia doesn't make it easier to not like her. In fact, now that I look at her, it reminds me of the day I first saw my Lydia in high school and I fell head over heels in love with her. I never had the chance nor the courage to ask her out on a date though. Not even in college. The only things we shared in college were drinks and kisses at parties. Kisses she completely forgot about considering how drunk she was.
"You err- got transferred from New York to L.A. for your job, remember? You work for your uncle's event business. You hit your head pretty bad earlier, which is why you don't remember that. You have a concussion." That actually isn't the worst lie. Maybe she'll buy it. Oh, I hope she'll buy it. She looks up at me for a second, her eyes squinting against the bright and hot sun.
"A concussion?" she asks and I nod, "Really?" I nod again and then she halts, making me stop too. She puts her hands on her hips and gives me a questionable look. "Then why am I allowed to walk in the sun without any protection? When you have a concussion, you're not supposed to do that. It should hurt," I think about what to say next. She's not wrong. Why didn't I think of that? My mind goes over everything I could possibly tell her next, but before I know it, something comes out of my mouth.
"You took painkillers," mental facepalm, "Yeah, you took a shitload of painkillers and now you don't feel anything. Now, let's get moving before I'm late to my photoshoot," I grab her hand and pull her along with me, hoping she'll shut up about it. When she does, a sigh of relief escapes my body. Thank God she doesn't go on about it. I'm all out of lies. We continue our walk towards the Uber waiting for us and we both hop in. Posey, Shelley, Holland and Sprayberry had to do some interviews first before they come to the shoot. The drive to the studio is completely silent. Lydia just looks out the window, still taking in L.A. as I look at her, trying to figure out how we're going to send her back and if that stupid spell would work or not. What if it doesn't? Or what if our Lydia dies in the process like Rich's universe self died? There are so many questions that I need to be solved, but none of which I can solve. It's just crazy to think something like that would happen in real life. It would've been okay if our writers on Teen Wolf would've put it in one of the seasons. That would be cool, even. But not in real life. All I want right now is my Lydia back. Or a nap. And some food. That'd be good too.
Luckily, we soon arrive at the studio, which means we won't have be sat in an awkward silence anymore. I'll be busy and I won't have time to talk. The team greets me and Lydia, without even knowing her.
"Who's your friend?" Trevor, the photographer questions. We always get the same crew for our photoshoots on Teen Wolf, so we're pretty familiar with Trevor and co.
"That's Lydia. I used to go to school with her. She's ... my new PA," I kind of lie to him, but it's a plausible lie. She looks at Trevor and gives him a warm smile before turning her attention on her surroundings. Her pupils dilate and sparkle a little as if she enjoys being in studios or surrounded by photographers. I'm not really sure, neither do I have the time to talk about it as the stylist pulls me to the wardrobe. The Stiles wardrobe. She hands me a simple black, long-sleeved shirt, a nice pair of jeans and dark blue Converse. The most comfortable shoes ever. When I'm ready and walk back out, I see Lydia standing next to Trevor as he talks about something regarding his camera. You're not going to tell me this Lydia is into photography. I shake it off and walk towards hair and makeup. Samantha, the makeup artist, does her job so I don't have a shiny forehead. When she's done, Aaron works his magic on my hair, giving me my usual Stiles hair. As I sit there, staring at my reflection in the mirror in front of me, I think about what has happened in the last twenty-four hours. Let's recap. I found out there's something like parallel universes, the love of my life is sucked up to a complete other one and now I'm stuck here with that version of her for one whole month. Through the mirror, I watch Lydia and Trevor talk. She seems a lot less narcissistic when she's talking to him. Like she's a whole other version than what I saw earlier. Maybe somewhere beneath that snake skin of hers lies something sweet and innocent. Maybe she's kind of like my Lydia, only in hiding.
"Okay, you're ready," Aaron tells me and I get up from the chair. I walk towards Trevor and Lydia to get my shots taken. Lydia stands behind Trevor, watching him as he takes the pictures and commands me which pose to take. I give him some smiles and some tough poses as season six is quite tough for Stiles.
"Maybe get down a little bit more," Lydia suggests Trevor as if she's the professional. Our eyes lock for a second as I give her a surprised smile. She presses her lips together and shrugs. She has this look in her eyes as if she's busted. Busted for having a passion, having a heart. After a while, the rest of the cast walks in too and we can get our group shots. For some we stand up, for others, we get to sit down. Whatever we are doing, Lydia is always there, behind Trevor, helping him and letting me see a part I didn't think I would see. Every now and then, we'd look at each other and she'd give me this smile that reminds me of my Lydia. One that makes me think some parts of my Lydia actually exists in this Lydia.

"So, you're into photography?" I ask when the photoshoot is done and I'm changing my shirt in front of her. Her eyes dart down towards my chest and stomach and bites her bottom lip ever so slightly before bringing her eyes back up to mine.
"Yeah, my mom and dad used to be really into it. Every occasion, they got their camera out and started taking pictures. They were really good at it too. When I was twelve, my mother started teaching me how to take a good picture," she chuckles a little as she tells the story whilst I grab my bag, "Of course I was terrible at it, but I got better. For my sixteenth birthday, my parents gave me my own camera and by practicing a lot and my parents helping me a little more, I got really good at it. I mean, not to toot my own horn, but I'm really damn good," I smile a little at her story and the way she tells it. She has this sparkle in her eyes, showing off the passion she has for the field.
"That's really cool, Lydia," I say, making her smile shyly. At least now I know she has a soft spot too. I cock my head to the side to signal us leaving and she simply nods and follows me. Now, I want to go home and watch Netflix for the rest of the day. But first, I need to find a way to get her home. I don't know where she lives and neither does she. "Hey, Lydia," I start as we hop into the Uber I ordered before getting dressed. She looks at me, her green eyes inquisitive. "Do you remember where you live?" Her eyes suddenly widen at the reminder of her so-called 'concussion'. A sigh leaves my body. I'll have to let her crash at my place for the night and I'll call Richard tomorrow to ask if he could bring her to her apartment.
"Dylan, I still live with my parents. In New York. I don't have a house here in LA," says Lydia in a panicked state. That's the first time she's said my name in those twenty-four hours we've been together. I have to recover from it for just a split second before I can answer her.
"You do, actually. But you can crash at my place for the night and then we'll call your uncle to ask if he knows where you live," she looks at me for a few seconds, then nods slowly. I can tell she's scared, but to be fair, I am too. I'm scared I may hurt her feelings somehow when I tell her where she's really from. I'm scared I'll never see my Lydia again. I'm scared of a lot of things, but I guess that's normal. We're only human anyway.
The car ride is silent again until we arrive at my place and I pay the driver before bidding him my goodbyes. Lydia still doesn't say a word as we get out of the car and I let her inside my building. I lead her to the elevator and then into my apartment. She looks around for a while whilst I put my stuff in my room and walk to the kitchen to grab something to eat.
"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" I ask her nicely not taking my eyes off of the fridge.
"Just a glass of water, please," she sounds polite, but I know it's just from nerves. I would be nervous in an unfamiliar place. Especially when someone told me I have a concussion when I really don't. Maybe I should tell her. Maybe that'll make things easier on her. Or maybe it won't. I sigh and fill the girl a glass of water as I grab myself a beer and some nibbles. When I turn around, I see her sitting on the edge of the sofa, her hands in her lap. She looks so uncomfortable and so vulnerable. I hand her the glass of water and put the nibbles on the coffee table. "Make yourself at home, Lyds." The nickname flows out as if it's nothing, as if I'm used to saying it. I look at Lydia and see her surprised expression. I shrug it off with a smile and sit down next to her. Whilst putting on the TV, I kick my shoes off and bend my right leg, my foot on the sofa. Lydia hasn't moved yet besides moving her glass to her lips and back.
"Would it be weird if I asked you to watch one of your movies?" my head snaps up at her. "I really want to see how good of an actor you really are." Crimson red creeps up on her cheeks, making her look like an innocent little girl. A smile appears on my face without me noticing at first. I then take the remote control to go to Netflix.

"Which one do you want to see?" I ask as I go to the 'search' bar.
"Which one was your favorite?" she asks, now looking up at me. I don't look at her, but I can see it from the corner of my eye.
"Oh, eh," I start and scratch the back of my head nervously. Are you even allowed to have a favorite movie as an actor? I'm not sure. However, I do have a small weakness for Stuart Twombly for some reason. I just love his ignorance and his sarcasm. I loved playing him. So, without saying anything else, I put on the movie. She asks me some questions about the other actors and about the filming process. I told her about the time there was a thunder storm outside and we couldn't film, so instead we put on Call me maybe and started dancing to it. I told her about the Quidditch game and asked her if she liked Harry Potter. Apparently, they have the exact same movies in the other universe as we have here, which is great. That makes me wonder what my parallel self is like. Is he an actor too? Or not at all? Throughout the movie, Lydia has moved a little more and is now sitting crossed-legged next to me. Having her around isn't quite as bad as I thought it would be. Maybe this month might be alright after all.