Parallels | Dylan O'Brien

20 - Memory Card Stealers

Los Angeles 

-Lydia Moon-

From Holland – Today 7am
Be ready by 7pm. Wear something Lydia-like (our Lydia). X

I read and reread Holland's text over and over again. What does she have in her mind? I simply sent her thumbs up in response, just so she knows I got it, but I don't know if I actually like it or not. Even though Holland is starting to become my friend here, and she's one of the only people who actually makes me feel safe in this world that isn't actually mine. I feel like I know her, like I've seen her before, but I have no clue from where.
From 10 am until 1pm, I sit in a meeting with uncle Rich and give them everything I've found with Holland the other day. The location, the ideas, everything. They're quite impressed with my work and I can't help but notice the proud smile on uncle Rich's face. It makes me feel rather proud of myself too. Around half past one, Rich and I go for lunch and afterwards, we sit down with our bosses, the couple hiring us to organize their wedding party. They're happy with what we've come up with, only a couple things we had to adapt until they were 100% happy with it. From 5 until half past 5, I watch half an episode of Teen Wolf until I have to get ready. I take a shower with some music playing loudly in the background. I dry my hair when I get out and rip the closet open. Let's see, what's very Lydia-like? Anything that isn't me, basically. I find it so weird that this Lydia is completely different from me. I don't know if she's completely different, but her style is, at least. I grab a pair of dark blue jeans with ripped knees and a cute black lace top. When I throw it on and look into the mirror, I'm rather impressed. I had no clue I'd look this good in jeans. I turn my body a little, admiring how great my ass looks in the jeans. The top reaches just above my belly button and I don't really mind. It looks great. I look great. Even in clothes that aren't mine. Satisfied with my outfit, I go into the bathroom to do my makeup. This girl doesn't have the colors I normally use, but a neutral look will do. I don't feel like doing much to my face anyway. When that's done, I grab a pair of black, chunk-heeled ankle booties and check myself in the mirror again. Adding a bit of jewelry and done! I look like I'd perfectly fit in and still feel somewhat myself.

The clock strikes seven when the doorbell rings. I quickly grab everything I need and put them into a shoulder bag before heading downstairs to where Holland will most likely be waiting for me. I open the big glass door to our building, revealing one heck of a woman in front of me. She went for the same style as I did: jeans with a top, and ankle booties. Only her top is a lot looser than mine. However, she still looks gorgeous.
"Hi," she greets and comes in for a hug. I wrap my arms around her body, returning the greeting.
"Where are we going?" I question as we hop into her car.
"You'll see," she says and drives off. I sigh and slump away in my seat. I hate surprises. "How has your day been?" she asks, trying to strike up a conversation.
"Had two meetings that I spent the whole day at," I tell her with another sigh, "It was pretty exhausting. So, whatever you're planning, I'm not staying too long," I see her nod her head from the corner of my eye. "How was yours?" I ask politely, completely forgetting about the fence I held up around other people.
"Quite okay. Had a couple of projects to work on. One big one," she tells me honestly, a soft sigh leaving her lips when she finishes the sentence. I feel bad for her, for some reason.
"What's the big one?" I ask her, genuinely interested in what she does.
"Oh, a series called 'Lore' where I play Bridget Cleary," she explains with a little smile tugging at her lips. I turn my head to fully look at her.
"What's it about?" I ask.
"About real-life nightmares and horror stories and how they root some sort of truth. You know..." she stops at a red light and takes a breath as well before continuing, "werewolves and vampires and such," I can't help but smirk a little. Sounds just like Teen Wolf, only less... 'Teen'.
"The usual," I joke, and it makes her laugh too. I'm glad it makes her laugh, I didn't want to insult her. Those are not my intentions. I'm finally feeling at ease around someone here and I kind of wished it would've been Dylan. But I guess that's not happening.