Parallels | Dylan O'Brien

16 - A Helping Hand

Credits to whoever owns this GIF! 

Los Angeles -Lydia Moon-

The next day, I already feel a lot better. There's no sadness, no fear. I feel like today is going to be a good day. Maybe me falling asleep crying on the sofa, and Justin finding me with tearstained face and hair sticking to my cheeks, and him bringing me to bed, has somehow cured me from the mental pain and sadness. Maybe I might be able to see Dylan today without wanting to scratch his eyes out. Without wanting to kiss him.
When I had woken up that morning, Justin had already left for work, and I had to do some work too. Uncle Rich had given me an assignment for the next meeting. I had to find a location and a caterer for the project we're working on at the internship. Luckily, he's given me some tips on how to do it as well, seeing I had never done anything like this. So, I get ready for the day, put on some music and settle myself at the dining table with all my paperwork. This is going to be a long day. The music plays softly in the background, it's barely even carrying through the whole room. I stay concentrated for a while, keeping my focus on the words. But every time I've read one sentence, I get distracted by the voice of Shawn Mendes singing softly. I can't actually believe Shawn exists here too. Every time I get distracted, I try to focus again after the chorus. I've been reading the same sentence over and over again, and I somehow can't make much sense of it. It's one sentence, Lydia. You can do this. It's not that hard. You've majored in biomedical engineering and linguistics. You can do this. Just when the encouragement has reached its peak, a very familiar song starts to play. It's Taylor Swift's Sparks Fly. I used to be such a big Taylor Swift fan when I was sixteen. I remember I used to dance around the room on her songs, along with Sky and Jules. Oh, how I miss those two. I wonder if they're going to be in this universe too. I softly tap along with my foot and soon my pencil taps onto the table too. I try my hardest to keep my concentration, but this is one of my favorite songs of hers.
"Drop everything now!" I sing along with Taylor and drop the pencil on the table before shoving my chair back and getting up. I dance towards the stereo, turning up the volume, then dancing around the room.
"I run my fingers through your hair" I sing loudly, going through my own hair.
"And watch the lights go wild
Just keep on keeping your eyes on me
It's just wrong enough to make it feel right
And lead me up the staircase
Won't you whisper soft and slow
And I'm captivated by you baby
Like a fireworks show"
I stop dancing, but continue singing along, more serious now, more dramatic.
"Drop everything now
Meet me in the pouring rain
Kiss me on the sidewalk
Take away the pain
'Cause I see, sparks fly whenever you smile"
I start dancing again, facing the giant window in front of me.
"Get me with those brown eyes, baby
As the lights go down
Gimme something that'll haunt me when you're not around
'Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile"
I turn around, still dancing, but my heart stops when something -or someone- comes into view. A loud scream elopes from my body. I rush towards the stereo and turn it down.
"How much did you see?" I ask, panting from both fear and exhaustion from dancing. I'm so unfit. Holland steps closer to me, giggling.
"Enough to blackmail you," she says, showing her phone in her hand. I roll my eyes, but I can't help but smile. Why do I feel like this is such a Holland thing to do? "You do realize you said 'brown' instead of 'green', right?" she asks as she walks towards the dining table and looks at the papers scattered around. I give her a confused look, unsure of what she's talking about.
"Taylor sings 'get me with those green eyes, baby', you sang 'brown eyes'," my eyes widen. I didn't even notice that myself. "Had someone in mind?" My heart rate fastens, my mind going wild. Did I really? No.
"No, I didn't, I said green," I try to defend myself, even though I know it's useless.
"You want proof? 'Cause I have some," she holds her phone up again, giving me a sly grin.
"No, fine. I believe you," I say, slouching my shoulders in defeat, "How did you get in my apartment anyway?" Holland shrugs.
"One of your neighbors was just leaving, so he let me in. You didn't lock that door, so," she explains, pointing her thumb to the door. "But don't change the subject. It's him, isn't it?" I know exactly who she's talking about.
"No, it's not," I defend myself. Holland raises an eyebrow at me.
"Mmh, that's funny. I didn't even say a name and you still knew who I was talking about." This girl is way too smart. She even outsmarts me, the smart one.
"Why are you here? I have a shitload of work to do that I don't even understand," I say, frustration crawling up on me. My hands find their way to my hair, softly pulling it. Holland looks at the papers, her lips pouted.
"I thought you studied biomedical engineering, that's what Dylan told me anyway. Aren't you supposed to be smart or something?" I raise an eyebrow at her.
"Yeah, in biomedical engineering. I don't know anything about this event managing crap," Holland gives me a sympathetic smile before sitting down on one of the chairs.
"Je vais t'aider," she says in fluent French. She's not going to help me in French, is she? "Et après, on va regarder un film," I'm seriously impressed with this girl's talents.
"Where did you learn French?" I ask as I sit down next to her.
"Self-taught," she shrugs, "Now let's see..." she looks over the papers, explaining some of the things to me and helping me set up an e-mail to send to these people. She explains all the steps I need to take to set up an event like this. She tells me the important things and the things I should tell the client, or uncle Rich who will tell the client.
"Wow, I never knew it took so much to set up an event like this," I say when we're done and settling on the sofa.
"Yeah, everything needs to be perfect when it comes to things like this," she tells me as if it's the most normal thing that she knows all of this stuff.
"How do you know this anyway?" I ask whilst putting the TV on and going to Netflix straight away. I can feel the sofa shift a little as she props her legs underneath her butt.
"I tried Tourism and Leisure Management once, then moved on to Human Studies," she explains and I just nod. "I was actually still studying whilst we were shooting season one of Teen Wolf," I look over to her now, eyebrows raised.
"Wow, really?" I ask and now she nods, "How do you balance that?"
"Well, during breaks and while I didn't have to shoot, I studied constantly," she explains with a smile, but that smile drops when her phone rings. "Hello," she says when she picks it up. "Oh, hi, Berry!" the smile appears again and I'm left to wonder who the hell Berry is. I zone out to their conversation, only hearing one part of it isn't the most interesting. Instead, I focus on the shows and movies I scroll past. "Hey, can Berry come over?" she asks me, punching me slightly in the arm. I furrow my eyebrows.
"Who's Berry?" I ask and it seems as if the light inside her head pings on.
"Dylan Sprayberry, he's on Teen Wolf too," I nod my head, not wanting to be a bitch any longer. I'm in a different universe where Lydia is a nice girl, so I might as well try to portray that roll. Holland goes back to her conversation whilst I continue to scroll. "Shall we wait to pick a movie until Sprayberry comes?" Holland suggest, "Oh, he's bringing Posey and Shelley too," I raise my eyebrow, but decide not to argue with her. Sooner or later, the muscles around my eyebrows might get sore from all the lifting and furrowing.
"Yeah, sure, let's make it a Teen Wolf party!" I say sarcastically with a sigh and put on their show to kill some time. I haven't watched season four completely yet. To be really honest, I'm hooked on this show. It's so good, better than our version. Dylan portrays Stiles so well.