Finding You || Dylan O'Brien

eleven (edited)

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She checked her phone again, anxiously. The house was across the road, music moving the ground underneath her. Lights in different colours flashed from inside it, like a rainbow was exploding. A breeze came, she tugged her black skirt down. 

Again, she checked her phone.

People were already going in. Cars lined the street, her car only just making the small spot she had found. Twiddling her thumbs, she waited. 

Suddenly, a dark figure came running towards her. As he approached, the light from the house illuminated him. A patch of red flannel. Dylan.

Astrid laughed at the sight of him, making him smile. "You're late!"

"Sorry," he said, stopping in front of her. He bent over to catch his breath. "There was no space up here and I had to park down there"

His hair was disheveled by the breeze. His cheeks were pink, either because of his running or because of the sick feeling in his stomach that always happened around her. They both shared a smile.

She turned back to the house. "This place is huge."

"He's a writer. Of course it's huge." he said, regaining his posture.

"But I thought he lived with you and Minho?" She asked.

"Nope. He just acts like he owns the place."

He grabbed her hand, fixing his shirt. She intertwined them, he drew circles with his thumb. Together, they crossed the road.

The moment they stepped through the large wooden doors, a hot gust of wind washed over them, the smell of sweat and alcohol overpowered their senses and Thomas emerged from the crowd of people.

"Hey! Thanks for coming!" Thomas shouted over the music, grinning.

Dylan pulled Thomas into a small hug. "Yeah! No problem! Thanks for inviting us!"

Thomas gave Astrid a kiss on the cheek, but before he could say much else, someone behind him tapped his shoulder, urging him to go back into the crowd. He turned back to Astrid and Dylan with an apologetic face.

"Gotta go! Drinks are in the kitchen! Don't have too much fun!"

And then he was swallowed by the crowd, disappearing into the raving lights and screaming dance floor. With a reassuring smile, Dylan pulled Astrid along. They manoeuvred through the sea of people. Astrid looked around at the size of the house. All the furniture had been moved to the side, the middle of what seemed like the lounge room was the dance floor. A bar rested on the other side, people constantly migrating from the dance floor to the bar and back. Dylan pressed on.

Finally, they reached the kitchen. Gleaming white lights, white tiles and a surprisingly clean kitchen island awaited. Bowls filled with coloured liquids sat untouched. Chip packets waited to be opened, a stack of pizza boxes hidden behind the bin, the strong smell of cheese rising. Dylan pushed himself up and sat on the counter. Astrid did the same.

"This is crazy." Astrid said, grabbing a packet of chips and opening it.

Dylan shrugged. "He does this type of thing all the time. With a huge house like this, who could say no?"

"Is this all from his writing profits?" She asked.

Dylan took a handful of chips from the packet, shoving it into his mouth. "No. His parents are lawyers, so they're filthy rich. Thomas gets to do whatever whenever. I wouldn't be surprised if we came here tomorrow and found a trained dolphin in his pool."