Breakfast Food = The Great Equalizer?
June 6, 2020
Queens
6:23 a.m.
Waking up, the first thing they were aware of other then the sun blinding them was the fact they still were wearing their contact lenses from yesterday. "Well, this is just peachy,' they thought fishing in their jacket pocket for their bottle of eyedrops. 'Got shot in the hip yesterday, and might end up going blind today.' But other then their cellphone and keys, the eyedrops were nowhere to be found.
"Damn it," Dylan muttered under their breath, wondering how they were going to get to a sink without waking anyone up.
"Dylan... are you awake?" a voice broke the silence. It took a minute to register who it was, before Wade came into view. "I thought you'd still be counting sheep... Do you need help walking to the restroom?" He shuffled over to the couch.
"Ummm... probably. But right now, when you were cutting my shorts to get to the- well, you know, did you happen to notice if there was a small bottle of eyedrops in any of the pockets?"
Wade knelt down by the couch, as he mentally ran through yesterday's events. "I don't think so, hon... the only things I found in your short pockets were your wallet, some mints and a lipbalm. They're sitting next to the coffee pot."
"Well, shit. The reason I was asking is because I slept in my contacts and my eyes are dry as dirt."
"That's not good." Wade got up and carefully helped Dylan get up off the couch, securing an arm around their waist. "How much can you see without the contacts?" he asked, walking them towards the bathroom.
"I can see things up close, just not far away. I'll be okay for now, but I guess I'm gonna have to text Roger and see if he'll answer me."
"Roger... oh, your cousin." Wade flipped on the light-switch and guided them over to the sink, stepping back across the threshold to give them space.
"Yep, that's the cousin I was living with. To keep a long story short, we pretty much grew up together; I treated him like a kid brother and many people assumed we were siblings. And I understand that he'd rather be alone with his girlfriend." Leaning against the sink, they got the contacts out of their eyes and put them in a small section of toilet tissue and flushed their eyes with warm running water. "But, he just kept delaying the inevitable until two months after grandma died and me getting the boot from my job to drop this bombshell on me. How did he think I would react to that shit?" They rubbed their face on a section of the hand towel that hung from the rack next to the sink.
"So... you managed to talk to Roger sometime last night?"
"Yeah, when you left to have some alone time with Pete, I sent him a text telling him I was fine and I crashed on the couch of a guy I knew from work, so he wouldn't think I was dead in the gutter or something... as for what happens next, I'm afraid to find out. You don't know me from Adam and I don't know what's I'm gonna do if Roger won't let me stay with him."
"Dylan, it's best not to worry about things that haven't happened. All that'll do is give you migraines and an ulcer to boot. Anyway, in my opinion, you can't brainstorm on an empty stomach. I'll leave you to finish up here and get things started."
"Thank you, Wade." Dylan smiled warmly, setting their hand on his arm. "Pete's quite a lucky guy having you around." They looked down nervously, letting go before shutting the door, silently breaking the space between them.
"Well, that was awkward as hell...' Dylan thought to themselves as they struggled to pull their sweatpants down to use the restroom. Sitting on the cold toilet hurt, but as least they were able to do what they needed to without having to beg for help. Wade and his boyfriend have done enough for them already. Once they stood back up, they took a quick look at the bandages. 'They're not bad, but they'll probably need changed after I call Roger,' they flushed the toilet and washed their hands, throwing out the crumpled toilet tissue that held their dried contacts lenses into the trash can next to the sink. 'But like Wade said, big decisions require breakfast, so I can't just stand here having an internal monologue in the bathroom.' Taking a deep breath, Dylan whispered "You can do this," and made their way out of the bathroom.
Things were blurry, but they managed to find their way back to the couch and sat down. "Did you need any help, Wade?" Dylan called out to the tall blur they figured was Wade standing by the sink.
"I can manage, but thanks Dylan... it's good to see you moving around but getting rest is important, too." From what Dylan could see, he saw Wade setting a couple boxes on the counter as well as possibly a large mixing bowl. "It's also a good thing I remembered to add pancake mix to the grocery list or we'd have been fucked. Side note, what is your preference bacon as to bacon's done-ness?"
"Extra crisp, if you don't mind." Dylan turned on their phone, wondering if Roger messaged them back at some point during the night while they were asleep.
"The only choice, in my humble opinion: but my Petey-pie's good taste begins and ends with the men he dates... granted he didn't get the chance to see how I looked before-" he stopped himself and paced the kitchen for a bit, the silence getting heavier before he continued, "before shit hit the fan, to put it mildly."
"Oh," Dylan wracked their brain trying to find something to say in response to that, coming up empty. They checked their messages, nothing new.
"Granted, I'm in a better headspace now then I was when it happened. The relationship I was in before Pete: it was perfect for a few years, but I guess even good things come to an end."
"Not always. I mean, I saw how you and Pete look at each other last night: you two are practically kismet."
"Well thanks, Dylan. I'm sure there's someone out there for you that's close enough to our... kismet-ness."
Dylan rolled their eyes and typed a message to Roger: (Hey Rog, I'm awake. Call when you can) and hit send. "Maybe someday, but the last 'relationship' I was in only lasted one summer but it was a lot easier than the usual bullshit." Dylan then heard footsteps and a door close.
"Sounds like my stud-muffin decided to wake up early." Wade ducked from Dylan's view for a moment. They heard the sounds of metal clanking together for a minute or so while they rubbed the sleep out of their eyes.
"Good morning, Dylan," a groggy voice called out on Dylan's right. "Did you sleep alright?" When he got closer, they could see Pete's shaggy brown hair sticking out all over the place and what looked like a couple hickeys on his neck.
"Well, couches aren't intended for sleeping, but it's more comfortable then others I've slept on. It looks like you slept pretty well too, Pete." They smiled and playfully punched him in the arm.
Pete grinned; a warm blush colored his cheeks. "You could say that," He gave Dylan's shoulder a squeeze before shuffling over to where Wade is standing. "Good morning, babe." The two share a long kiss, Dylan shifts their gaze to a window where the sunlight cast a warm glow over the apartment.
"Good morning to you too, handsome... care to help me with breakfast?"
"Sure, I'll make sure you don't overcook the bacon this time." Pete heads to one side of the counter and picks up what looks like a coffee canister. Dylan pushed themselves off the couch and limped over towards the kitchen island so they could be part of the ongoing conversation.
"I'll have you know that Dylan likes their bacon the same way I do, so... two against one, cupcake." Wade stuck his tongue out at Pete and started pouring the boxed pancake mix into the large bowl.
"Aww, stud-muffin and cupcake?" Dylan leaned against the island, keeping their weight balanced on their left foot, folding their arms on the faux marble surface. "I wasn't expecting this many pet names before breakfast."
"It's fifty percent sweet and fifty percent him being a smart-ass," Pete snarked back while he opened a coffee canister, removing a measuring cup from inside. "When Wade and I first started dating, he thought it'd be a cute Valentine's Day idea to make me strawberry cupcakes as a token of his affection. Well, it would've been sweet if I didn't come home to find four dozen cupcakes scattered everywhere and his kitchen covered in flour and broken eggshells."
"So I accidently quadrupled a recipe. Anyone can do that, right?" Wade turned to get some approval from Dylan. They were too stunned to speak.
"Nevertheless, I still can't even smell strawberry flavored anything without getting sick to my stomach. We ate quite a few of them and gave some to Matt and Foggy to take home." Peter filled the coffee filter with a cup of granules and shut the lid.
"Yep, Matthew and Fog..." Wade rolled his eyes and headed towards the fridge. "They'll be coming up tomorrow: you'll get a chance to see them then." He opens the fridge door, grabbing a half full gallon of milk, letting the door swing shut on its own.
"Matthew and Fog... that gives off a Sherlock and Holmes vibe." Dylan felt the iciness in Wade's voice so they attempted to lighten the mood. "Are they close friends of yours?" They looked at Pete, who poured water into the reservoir, and turned it on.
"Matt and I knew each other for a while in college, before he went on to Columbia to become a lawyer. Foggy, whose name is Frank, is also a lawyer and Matt's boyfriend. They've been together for two years... almost three, I think." Pete opened the cabinet above the sink, retrieving three coffee mugs.
"Oh, business and pleasure. I guess there's no harm in that," Dylan shrugged as Pete set the coffee cups on the island. Dylan looked at each of the mugs, picking one from the trio: powder blue with a speckled matte finish. Turning the mug over and over in their hands, they tried to keep eye contact with Pete. "Do they live in this building?"
"No, they're over in Hell's Kitchen. They usually make a trip down here every Saturday just to see how we're holding up, and we see what's been going on for them... I'm sure it's been difficult with their practice shutting down due to the pandemic."
"Damn, that sucks."
"Yeah, they're a small firm, they handle a lot of pro bono cases for those who need the help. And speaking of help, do you need some, babe?" He looked over at Wade, who had opened the milk jug and gave it a sniff, only to look somewhat confused.
"I can't tell if this milk is good or not." Pete makes his way over to Wade, takes the gallon of milk from his hand, smells it and hands it back to him.
"It's fine." He heads back over to the island, turning the coffee pot on. "But yeah, the world has pretty much turned upside down for most of us, and we're trying to get through this as... well, for lack of a better word, 'normally' as possible."
"That's fair... the only people I've been in contact with since March was my cousin Roger, his girlfriend Tisha and her family." Dylan set the coffee mug back onto the island close to the others and cracked their knuckles, turning their attention to Wade, mixing the pancake batter with a whisk. His eyes had taken on a steely focus, which, from past experiences raised their anxiety level. "Are you okay, Wade?"
Wade stopped, catching himself. He shook his head for a moment and smiled. "I'm okay, Dylan. It's just that Matthew had a crush on Pete back when they were in college, and some of these repressed feelings resurfaced when he and I started dating."
Pete pursed his lips, glanced over at Dylan apologetically and tried to smooth his ruffled feathers. "Wade, I've told you that Matt doesn't harbor a secret crush on me... if that was true, he would've told me."
"Pete, his pride would've been wounded if he told you how he felt, since you had friend-zoned him. Hell, the way he treats me when he visits should be a red flag."
"You and Matt always butt heads... if you'd just extend an olive branch, I'm sure his mood would improve."
"Well, when Dylan meets them tomorrow, they'll be able to see him with fresh eyes. I'll warn you Dylan, Matt has an ability to sense when someone's attractive, so he will hit on you." Wade gestured to them with the whisk as he dumped half a bag of chocolate chips into the pancake batter.
Dylan wasn't sure if they were to take this as complimentary, but shook it off. "... so, Matthew's a flirt?"
"He was a flirt, but since he and Frank got together, he's way more mellow." Peter went over to the dish drainer and grabbed a rubber spatula, handing it to Wade to aid him.
"Well, let's call tomorrow the ultimate acid test... who wants to place a bet as to how things will go?" Wade dropped the whisk in the sink and, taking the spatula from Pete, began folding the chips into the batter.
"Dylan, have you heard anything from your cousin last night?" Pete asked Dylan as he search a couple cabinets before setting two baking sheets on top of the stove, and setting the oven.
"No, not yet. I sent him a text around the time I woke up and haven't heard anything. He and Tisha are either busy or getting busy." They checked their phone again, but no new messages. Pocketing their phone, they stifled a yawn and limped back to the sofa so they can sit down.
"Babe, do you know where the cooking spray is?"
"It's in the same place it was last time, Wade." Pete answered as they heard some more metal clanking sounds.
"Right, thanks babe. I can handle the rest of getting breakfast together; you can hang out with Dylan in the living room if you want once the coffee is done."
"Alright, sweetheart. I'll hang out with Dylan, but as soon as I smell bacon cooking, I'm helping you." Pete gave Wade a peck on the cheek and strolled back to the living room where he sat next to Dylan and picked up the remotes for the TV. "Is there anything on TV that your partial to?"
"No, I'm not too picky...I don't usually watch TV much. l tend to use it as white noise while I did stuff around the house or read." Pete turned on the TV and flipped through several channels before stopping on a movie channel that was halfway through National Treasure, sticking with it.
"Do you like Nick Cage?" Pete asked, as he handed the remote to Dylan before going back to the coffee pot.
"For the most part, yeah... my favorite movies of his are Moonstruck, Leaving Las Vegas and Raising Arizona. Mandy was pretty insane, though. I'd like to see him do some more decent horror movies."
"Well, it'll take some time, but you won't be too disappointed by his future projects. " Wade called out from the kitchen.
"Huh?" Dylan wasn't sure if they'd heard him correctly, so turned themselves to look over at them.
"I'm sorry, Dylan... I forgot to tell you. Wade has schizophrenia and either that or some other underlying situation causes him to think that we're being observed by an audience."
"An audience?"
"Readers, currently," Wade's voice called out to them, "but a possible visual aid could be fun when we get to some HBO levels of action and, maybe passion? Who knows, we're only four chapters in and I've been in enough hot water with people who get writer's block to just relax and trust in the process." Wade comes back into view as Pete busied himself by pouring coffee into their mugs.
"Wow, that is... certainly a fascinating way to view the world, Wade. I don't know how I'd feel about an audience watching me and my life. If people watched me, they'd probably get bored and find anything else to watch."
"Don't say that. Who wouldn't care about a cute, troubled soul finding themselves in the company of two charmers, one with Hollywood good looks and the other with a devil-may-care personality who slept around with anyone who wouldn't get scared by the baggage and scars he carries physically and mentally."
"And honest to boot." Dylan giggled. "I've questioned my sexuality for a few years, but anyone I've dated never lasts long enough to mean anything serious. I remember one guy ghosted me when I came out to him about being genderfluid."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Dylan." Pete motioned for Dylan to come over to where he was standing. "The closest thing I have to family is my aunt, and when I realized that I was attracted to guys in high school, I was afraid of what she would say or think about me, so I kept it hidden. But, halfway into college, I came out to her over winter break and she told me that she had already kind of figured it out, and as long as I was happy and loved by my 'someone', that it wouldn't change how much she loves me. And Wade definitely impressed her, especially since he bought her a bouquet of hydrangeas. Oh, I'm not sure how you like your coffee, Dylan, so..." He slid the light blue mug over towards them, steam lazily rising from the top.
"Can you point me over to the sugar?" Dylan took the mug in their hands. Pete gestured over to a yellow container on the countertop, next to a pair of white salt and pepper shakers, and they carefully made their way towards it, praying the coffee wouldn't splash onto them. "I tend to add quite a bit of sugar because I can't drink hot coffee straight like my one uncle used to do." They set the mug down, and adjusted the plastic top to the pour side, adding a healthy amount to the cup. "He always had to comment, 'You want some coffee with your sugar, young lady." They mimicked his gruff smoker's voice and rolled their eyes, but the memory of their late uncle started getting the better of them. "But yeah...with the amount of sugar I add, I only need a splash of milk, since I make it sweet enough already." They set the sugar down and, taking a metal spoon out of the dish drainer. They focused on stirring, trying to keep this sudden wave of emotion in check, but soon Dylan felt a warm rough hand on their face, and Wade's brown eyes looking at them.
"Are you okay, hon?" The level of concern in his voice caused the floodgates to open, and they were soon enveloped in a tight embrace.
"It's okay, Dylan... I've got you. Just let it out, dear." Wade comforted them as best he could, as Dylan's hot tears soaked into the front of his shirt.
"I-I'm sorry, Wade. I don't know why I keep crying on you." Dylan's voice cracked as they coughed.
"You don't have to apologize, honey: you've been pulled through the wringer lately." Wade ran a hand over Dylan's loosely braided hair, as they withdrew from his embrace.
"I guess... I mean yeah, it's a lot. I just don't know what I'm going to do if Roger won't let me stay at the house. I don't have enough to keep an apartment alone, and the only friends I have are married so they're living with their spouses so I can't rely on them, and there's no way I'm going to go back to my parents again."
"Remember what we talked about, Dylan... until things happen, you can't control what the outcome will be. Take a few deep breaths for me, okay?" Pete watched Dylan nod, then take several shaky, yet deep breaths. "Okay, how are we feeling now?"
"Not a hundred percent... maybe seventy two?" Dylan estimated, letting go of Wade.
"Well, that's better then the grades I got at school, so you'll be okay. Pete, help Dylan get back to couch and I'll finish making your coffee."
"Thank you, Wade."
Pete slipped an arm around Dylan' shoulder and walked with them back to the couch. Once they got seated, Pete returned to the kitchen to collect his and Dylan's coffees and set them on the coffee table in front of them. Then, the two finished watching the end of National Treasure between sips, in a comfortable silence before a heavy techno-synth tune broke through the din.
"That's him." Dylan set the mug down with a sigh, and swiped the phone screen to answer, holding it up to their ear. "Hey Rog... yes, I'm still at his apartment. His name's Pete-" They glanced up at him and mouthed 'Last name' and Pete whispered the only one he could think of. "Pete Wilson; we mostly talk on Insta. He was there for a couple years before he left to get a degree in, umm..." Pete whispered biochemistry and physics but they shrugged and said, "Something involving science. You know most of that shit flies over my head."
They shifted their sitting position, wedging a pillow under their hip. "But yes, he has been very generous considering he found me on his literal doorstep." Dylan soon smelled bacon cooking and Pete got up to help Wade in the kitchen. They went to get another sip of coffee but froze. "What do you mean, are Pete and I close? No, we've never dated... he has someone. You're not expecting me to stay with him? I can't just mooch off him until I get my job back. Who knows how long this shit's gonna last for." Dylan set the mug down and rubbed their forehead, a migraine starting to set in. "Roger, I need you to be honest with me right now. Is Tisha pregnant? Hey, don't bite my head off, I just thought with how hot and heavy things have been with you two..."
"Dammit, Roger!" Dylan squeezed their temples. "I was never in the way when you first got together, broke up and got back together... what changed now?"
Wade let Pete take over what was left with breakfast so he could keep an eye on Dylan: their head was down and were mostly silent on the phone, except for the occasional 'Yeah,' or 'Okay'. He sat next to them, resting a hand on their knee. "Hang on, Rog..." Dylan mumbled, before looking up at him "What's the name of this place?"
"It's the Tower, hon... on 28th Street." Wade answered.
"I'm at the Tower on 28th. Yeah, there's a packed duffel bag and a rolling suitcase in my room, plus a cardboard box full of books. Pete's making breakfast for us, but shoot me a text when you get here, and we'll meet you outside... No Roger, but I'll manage. Love you too. Bye." Dylan hung up the call and dropped the phone on the coffee table. "Well, I guess that's my answer. Roger wants to take the next step in his relationship with Tisha by letting her move in with him, and although he apologized for dropping the ball on actually fucking telling me months ago- it doesn't change the fact that I'm unemployed, and crashing on the couch of two people I just met yesterday." They picked up the half full mug and drank it down in a couple gulps. "So, I guess I'm pretty much fucked."
"You are not fucked, Dylan." Wade put an arm around their shoulders, pulling them close. "If I hadn't gotten you out of that restaurant, then that would've been the time to think that way. But did that happen?"
"No."
"Now, are things gonna be messy? Yes: but in my fucked-up way of thinking, this is almost like life is guiding you down the tried-and-true storyline of a life-changing summer."
"What do you mean?"
"Come on, Dylan... something tells me you've watched quite a few movies in your life. Am I right, or am I right?" Wade looked at Dylan intently with an expression that said 'Even though I don't have eyebrows to raise, just humor me, please.'
Dylan chuckled and nodded, "Yes, you could call me a cinephile."
"I knew it." Wade smiled brightly, causing Dylan to purse their lips and hope that they weren't blushing. Damn, Wade should not be doing these things to me. He has a boyfriend, Dylan!
"Well, think of it like this... in this dark moment in your life, you're the protagonist, thrown into uncertainty. And you can either let this break you, or show how resilient you can be. And while I can't answer for Pete, I'm more than willing to help you, and you are welcome to stay here."
"I second that vote." Pete called out from the kitchen. "Also, the pancakes are almost done... Dylan, I'm sorry that your cousin wasn't able to help you, but you can stay with us as long as you need to."
"Thank you, Pete." Dylan called out so Pete could hear, then leaned against Wade. "Thanks, Wade... I can't promise anything, but I'll try not to cry all over you next time I break down."
"No worries, Dylan. Besides, I'm glad I get to have a new live-in bestie to hang out and watch movies with, outside of our work schedule." Wade helped Dylan up off of the couch, whispering into their ear. "Plus, having a hot new roomie always makes summer fun."
"Wait, what?" But Wade simply shrugged and with a wink, he went back to the kitchen to take a seat at the island.
Okay... either my brain has been warped from these painkillers, or Wade is actively flirting with me? Maybe that's just how Wade is as a person. Whatever, you've been around flirty people before, granted they've never flirted with you as much as this, but just let it slide and get a plate before those pancakes get cold.
Removing their jacket, Dylan made their way to a chair and folding the jacket into a semi-neat square, they set it on the chair and awkwardly sat down as Pete handed them a plate with three strips of crisp bacon and four square shaped chocolate chip pancakes. "Wow, square pancakes are kind of a first for me... they taste pretty good, though."
"Yeah, usually it's easier for Wade and I to bake pancakes like this on a sheet pan, so we don't have a lot of leftovers."
"Oh... like the cupcakes?" Dylan giggled, covering their mouth with the back of their hand.
"Peter, why did you have to tell Dylan the cupcake story... haven't I suffered enough?" Wade pouted, making sad eyes at Pete.
"I'm sorry, Wade... if that's a sore spot for you, I won't bring it up again."
"I'm only teasing, hon... Pete likes when I tease him, don't you, cuddle-bug?" He reaches for the bottle of maple syrup, pours a healthy drizzle onto his pancakes and snaps the lid shut.
"Oh, sorry... I'm kind of shaky when it comes to sarcasm and facial cues. Autism strikes again..." Dylan shakes their head.
"A team of psychiatrists probably wouldn't be able to figure what's going on in my head, so I think you're in the clear." He took a large bite of one of his pancakes, chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. "While we're on the subject, what's your opinion on being teased?"
Dylan gasps and coughs, a bit of pancake getting lodged in their windpipe.
"Wade, leave Dylan alone, please." Pete gave Wade a stern look between bites of his breakfast.
"Let's just say... there are times when teasing is welcome, and other times that it's better to wait it out."
Wade nodded, "Good answer, pumpkin. Oh, and thank you babe, for doing a good job on the bacon."
"Oh, thanks Pete." Dylan ate a piece of the bacon, savoring the crispness. "It's good you two know your way around a kitchen... Roger was kind of helpless until he first met Tisha. Her and her family have mad skills when it comes to cooking, so he definitely had to step up. Granted, neither of us will be able to compete with them, but I'm glad they've accepted Rog and me, for the most part: only Tisha and her cousins call me Dylan, the rest of her family call me by the name my mother gave me." They shrugged, stabbing into one of the pancakes with their fork. "I can put up with it for now, since they still see me as the little girl from church and I just don't have the energy or patience."
"That really sucks, Dylan." Wade sympathized between bites. "But it's nice that Tisha and her cousins respect you."
"Yep... I've pretty much known Tisha since Sunday school age. But our friendship started when her and Roger met in junior high. I got harassed constantly back then, about how chubby I was, how I couldn't 'be normal' and like the same music and movies that the other kids in my class did. While the girls in my study hall were thirsting over Orlando Bloom and Nick Lachey, I crushed on Bette Davis and Robert Redford."
"Excellent choices, by the way." Wade gestured to Dylan with his fork, giving them a wink. "My first non-female crush was seeing Brad Pitt in Fight Club."
"Nice... Interview with a Vampire's more my cup of tea, but both are valid. Anyway, from junior high on, I pretty much became a loner: I believed that anyone my age only talked to me out of pity, or to make me a punchline. Tisha was a social butterfly, she still is... so, in a way my cousin being sweet on her kind of gave me a buffer, no matter if it was small. But enough of my sob story, which one of you wants to meet my cousin when he shows up?"
"For Roger's sake, you'd better let Pete be the one who meets him... after all, boyish good looks go a lot farther then personality when first impressions are concerned." Wade finished eating his breakfast and took his dishes to the sink."
"That's alright Wade, I only made the suggestion since I didn't really give him a description of what 'Pete Wilson' looks like... it'll probably take some time for Roger to come up here, so in the meantime I can help out with cleaning the breakfast dishes, and afterwards we can kill time channel surfing."
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1:27 p.m.
After a few hours of anxious waiting, Dylan finally received a text from Roger that he was in the parking lot. "He's here." Dylan stepped into their shoes, retying the laces.
"Okay, Dylan... I have a mask in my room you can borrow: our superintendent mandated that we wear masks when out in the halls or in the lobby." Pete got up from the couch and went down the hall. Dylan returned their focus to their shoes, until Pete returned holding up a dark blue cotton face mask.
"Thanks, Pete." Dylan took the mask and slipped it over her ears, breathing in the smell of fabric softener and a hint of cologne that they were unfamiliar with, and Pete took a mask and his keyring out of his jacket pocket and slipped it on.
"Alright, babe... if we need help with Dylan's stuff, I'll send you a text." Pete unlocked the door, Dylan got up from the couch and the two exited the apartment, Pete locking the door behind him. Dylan let Pete take the lead making the way down these long hallways, making a right and a left before getting to the elevator. Dylan's face scrunched, the mask not blocking the smell of weed that seemed to be baked (pun intended) into the thick carpeted walls. After what felt like five minutes, the door opened with a ding. Dylan looked around the lobby, spotting someone in what looked like coveralls spraying disinfecting spray on a loveseat that was parked in the lobby. Going through the double doors, the heat and sunlight hitting Dylan like a tidal wave.
"Can you see Roger's car?" Pete asked, looking around. The city was quieter than it normally was, but there was still some consistent traffic and a couple buses here and there.
"Um... not really. He drives a burgandy Ford." Pete spots the car and taking Dylan by the hand, walks them towards it. When they approach the car, Dylan slips off the face mask and tapped on the car window with their knuckles, letting go of Pete's hand. The guy inside shut the car off and opened the door, a plume of cigarette smoke exiting with him. Pete gave Roger a quick once over: he was slightly taller then he was, wearing a gray beanie, an old Ozzy Osbourne shirt and baggy jean shorts, and worn out sneakers on his feet. He took a last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before crushing it underfoot and pulling Dylan into a tight hug.
"Holy shit, cuz... you had me scared for a while after I heard about that Mexican place you usually go to had gotten shot up yesterday. I'm glad you're alright."
"Yep, I'm still kicking." Dylan quipped, their words muffled from the hug. Patting Roger on the back so he could let go, Dylan looked up at him. "I hope you and Tisha enjoy living together... my mother always said that's the defining test of any relationship; if they can live together for an extended period of time without wanting to kill each other. You two have dated for quite a few years, I know... I'm sure you two will be more then fine."
"Thanks, Dylan. I went through your room again to make sure there wasn't any phone charger or something that might've been forgotten. I also slipped a little something into your duffel bag, as a farewell and thank you gift for all you've done for me."
"Wow Roger, a parting gift... I already feel like I'm about to step on the RMS Titanic, you didn't have to bring your violin, too."
"Don't be a smart-ass, Dyl... I'm trying to be nice, here."
"Being nice; what does being nice have to do with any of this?"
"Roger..." Pete cut in, putting himself between the two cousins. "Hi, I'm Pete Wilson. Listen, I've only known Dylan for a short time, but they told me often about you, and how you are like a little brother to them. While this isn't my place to talk, just-" Pete set a hand on Dylan's shoulder. "Don't say anything that you might end up regretting later."
Dylan looked down for a couple seconds, taking a deep breath. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry I was being curt with you, Roger."
Roger briefly eyed Pete, then focused on Dylan. "It's okay... if the roles were reversed, I'd most likely be in the same boat as you. Pissed off and eager to kick someone's ass." He pulled off the beanie to scratch his head, a light auburn buzzcut revealing itself.
"It'll take quite a few conversations to get to a better place, but as long as you're willing to hear me out, we can try to rebuild things. Not like the way they used to be, but more... beneficial to us, and where we're at now. W-would you like that, Roger?"
Roger smiled at Dylan, their green eyes crinkled at the corners. "Of course I do, cuz. We'll always be family, and nothing will ever change that." Roger gave Dylan a second hug, which they reciprocated, wrapping their arms tightly around him.
Once Dylan let go of their cousin, they walked over to the trunk of the sedan. Fumbling with the key fob, Roger popped the truck open, taking the rolling suitcase out of the trunk. Pete grabbed the book box, making sure to 'struggle' a little with its weight, a common practice he equipped around people to hide his enhanced capabilities. Dylan grabbed the red and black duffel bag by its strap, slinging it over their shoulder, grabbing the face mask from their pocket and gestured to Roger as they slipped it on as they headed back towards the apartment building.
Roger hunted for a mask before finding one in the glove box and begrudgingly put it on, retrieving a black backpack from the passengers seat as well. Following Pete and Dylan into the lobby he stopped short at the elevator. "Do you think you two can handle carting this stuff, or do you want me to help?"
"Thanks for the offer, Rog, but I'm sure Pete and I can handle it." Dylan assured their cousin.
Pete hit the down button on the elevator, all the while keeping tabs on Dylan and Roger from the corner of his eye. He saw Roger hand the backpack over to Dylan and slip a small wad of cash into their jacket pocket. Dylan shook their head no, and went to hand it back to him but he insisted that they take it. Pete got into the elevator with the box, hoping it wouldn't take long to get to his floor so he can get back to make sure Dylan was alright. He hustled down the hallway as quickly as he could, and knocked his alert knock on the door (twice, then three times).
Wade opened the door right away. "Is everything alright, babe?"
"For now, yeah... but I'll need some help." He passed the box to Wade and said, "Just park that in the living room and as soon as you can, come down the elevator and make like you're checking our mailbox."
"Alright, baby. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Pete hurried back down to the lobby as quick as the annoying elevator would let him, returning to see the pair in deep conversation.
"I can't believe they're still having a cookout for the fourth, especially since Miss Esther just got out of the hospital from getting this shit!"
"I know, Dylan, but it's also around Tisha's birthday so you should know that they're gonna have something! As long as the weather holds up, it'll be at her mom's house, cause she has a larger backyard and it'll be her parents, grandparents and her cousins plus us."
Dylan sighed and shrugged their shoulders. "If the weather is good enough to be outside, I'll be there. Okay?"
"I'll hold you to it, Dylan... ice detail won't be as fun without you." Roger looked up to spot Pete standing close by. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Pete. Dylan's a good kid, they have their quirks, but they won't give you too many headaches." Roger and Pete shook hands, as Dylan spotted Wade, still in pajama pants but with a jacket, baseball cap and mask passing through the lobby.
"Earth to Dylan, are you there?" Roger waved a hand in front of their face.
Dylan flinched and gave their cousin a look. "Yeah, I'm here... I guess this is it. I sincerely wish all the best for you and Tisha. You two are meant to be together, and it's inspiring, truly."
"Thank you, Dylan. That means a lot... and Tisha's been wanting to talk to you about the whole Derek thing-"
"I'd rather keep that between Tisha and I, thank you." Dylan stiffened, shifting the strap of the duffel bag from their right to left shoulder.
"Okay, cousin. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call, alright."
"I don't plan on losing your number anytime soon." Dylan smirked, trying to keep the mood light for Roger's sake.
"I sure hope not, Dyl." He paused for a moment, before giving Dylan a kiss on the top of their head. "I love you, cuz."
"Love you too, Rog." Dylan mumbled, as he turned around and ambled out of the double doors and out of sight.
Peter looked over at Dylan, wrapping an arm around their shoulders. "Are you gonna be alright, Dylan."
They were silent for a while, but eventually answered. "Not really, no. I'm just gonna handle things on a day by day basis."
Wade approached them with a couple envelopes and an Amazon package in tow. "Hey you two; did I miss anything?"
"No, not really. I'm sure Pete and I could've managed to carry the rest of this up."
"Not if I have anything to say about it." Wade took the duffel bag from Dylan and slung it over his shoulder. "The three of us have to stick together."
Dylan looked at Wade, exasperated but chuckled. "When you're right Wade, you are right." The new trio make their way back to the elevator, one anxious about how and where they were gonna stash their belongings and the other two were cautious about what tomorrow would bring.