"Alright, guys, this is going to be the last question" the spectator informed Dylan and the crowd of fans who came to see him at the Vancouver Convention.
"Make it the greatest question ever asked. I will not take anything less then that" Dylan joked in an overly serious tone. Laughs soon erupted throughout the room.
The next person looked to a woman in her mid-twenties, wearing a 'sarcasm is my only defense' shirt." Umm, I don't know if it's that good of a question, but I was wondering how you and (Y/n) met?" She asked, nervously bitting her lip. Afraid he wouldn't like her question, or rejected it all together.
For a moment Dylan wondered if he should see if she had a back up question on hand. It wasn't as if he didn't want to talk about. It's just you both have a private relationship, not wanting the press to interfere in it, or his protective fans who had a tendency to send hate because they deemed you unworthy. Despite the fact they didn't know a thing about you. It created a rift between you for a while. You began to wonder if they were right, however Dylan proved them wrong to you. Maybe he should start proving it to them, instead of worrying about it creating something worse.
"That's a pretty good question. Not the greatest, but good. So, I'll make an exception. Just this once! " he told her. Easing her nerves." I was on a flight to Atlanta, back when Teen Wolf was being filmed there, and-"
Dylan slowly made his way to his seat, putting the remainder of his luggage away. Whilst looking across the cabinet seeing T-twos where getting settle. Usually they all sat together, but the network was unable to make that happen this time. He was a little upset, knowing full well he didn't want to talk to anyone. Afraid they'll recognized him, or they'll be annoyed by him.
For the first ten minutes he didn't even look to who was sitting next to him. It wasn't until a he heard you're phone go off, notifying that you had received a text message. He looked over seeing a picture of a your parents newest addition to the family.
"Oh my god, that's a dog!" He said, a little louder than he intended. The sound of his booming voice caused you to jump in your seat." Sorry, sorry. I got excited, I love dogs. At least I think it's a dog. I only got a quick glance before I scared you".
"Yes...yes it is. If you promise not to scare me again I can show you more" you laughed. He smiled and nodded his head in agreement.
You showed him more photos, skipping any that had family members in them. Not feeling comfortable showing a man you didn't know what they looked like. Once you finished he showed you his two dogs. Which took up eighty percent of his camera roll. One had his dogs with his best friend T-pose who was dressed as a werewolf for what you assumed was Halloween.
Suddenly a girl walked over and asked Dylan for an autograph. You watch in confusion, as he gladly excepted. He even took a photo with the girl.
"Umm, what just happened?" you chortled. You couldn't help it. Here you are sitting next to someone famous and you hadn't the faintest idea.
"Oh, I'm on a show" he said with an uncomfortable look on his face." Sorry I didn't say anything, I was kinda happy you were treating me like a normal person, rather then some star who "needs" attention" he continued.
"I don't blame you. I'd hate being famous. If it makes you feel any better; I have no idea who you are" you admitted.
"So, you're not going to treat me any differently?"
"Nope"
"After that we kinda got to talking about baseball. Then I knew- I knew I had to get her number" he stated.
