Around the world i find myself (and maybe something more)

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Around the world i find myself (and maybe something more)

Post  Akane on Tue Mar 24, 2015 8:32 pm

When Dylan decided to follow his dream, his father reluctantly agreed while his mother just smiled and began pouring advice after advice. It had been, probably, the worst evening in his entire life until eventually they agreed that as long as he kept his grades up and finished school and college then it shouldn’t be a problem.

Only that it became a problem – one where he had to quit school and begin private lessons because after he uploaded his stupid, unprofessional videos on YouTube, the phone started ringing. A role in a show, a role in a movie – roles that brought the talent out for the gold diggers to see, worship and wish to spend hundred thousand dollars to have in their movies.

The fame began slowly, but it reached the tops in few years, right after his Oscar. And then the second, third and an Emmy followed among other small awards which turned him into the world’s famous youngest actor, with the best performance of all times.

He was young, he was known and he had and still has the world at his feet. Fame gave Dylan opportunities he only dreamed off; it gave him access to everything and anything, money were coming in waves he had no idea what to do with, brought him in circles of people he never thought he would be in ever in his life, had the chance to dine with first class stars, actors and singers; the Hollywood dream in two words. Though he could have done those things and many others, his parents made sure he never went over the edge. Claudia and John Stilinski were not known to the outside world, unless it was a necessity such as showing up to his every awards nomination and support him with their presence. His mother, Claudia is a perfectionist in every sense of word, with a slightly odd sense of humor and a severe hand that both her boys never wished to push. As a script writer, fame never overwhelmed her, having always time for her family, without the fear of having every reporter banging at her door or disturbing her from a dinner in a restaurant. Obviously it had something to do with the fact that her husband worked as the head of security in CIA, constantly having someone to protect the family in case of emergency.

Perhaps it was also the fact that Dylan never hoped the fence when it came to illegal things. Inevitably he had offers, some more dangerous than others, but never overwhelming as to call his father and ask for help.

After his third Oscar things started to change – despite the efforts his parents put into giving him a proper, simple education, Dylan began turning greedy. He demanded a house in Beverley Hills, which was more than his parents could afford, despite the fact that they were the ones keeping tags on Dylan’s money. It took them a month to reason with him until eventually they gave in under the pretext of being a safer area than the one they were living in. The mansion he opted for was too much for them so they all agreed for a smaller one. If small meant a seventy square meter living room, six bedrooms, three bathrooms, two kitchens, a spa, a theater, a workout room and a huge lawn with swimming pool and a garden that could fit the whole house in then perhaps Dylan forgot just what small consists of.

Thankfully, Dylan got tired of the greediness that took over so suddenly, turning back to his old self; the sarcastic, squirmy little spaz he used to be. Money didn’t interest him as before, perhaps right after his fifth classic car, which was a trifle his parents passed by as long as he kept the promise that that was the last one.

And surprisingly it was. Because Dylan never took advantage of his parents’ advice, maybe he was a little spoiled brat, as the magazines described him, but he knew better, as well as his family, that there was a façade the world, somehow, adored in a famous actor. He was, still is, rebellious and does things every other teenager his age does, but he never considered his parents’ advices wrong and he always heeded them.

That was until he realized the famous life was not making him happy at all. He slowly became reckless with his image; he didn’t dress as well as before, he didn’t take care of the constant watching he was on and the paparazzi began to wonder and write lies about his life. He grew tired of always thinking twice before speaking, of always watching left and right whenever he craved for a cheap burger at a fast food down town. He had to be careful with who he went out and if they were worthy of him. He used to date girls who never cared for who he was but more for what he was and when he tried to ask Lydia Martin, a top class model, out and she refused the press went mad.

Famous actor Dylan O’brien rejected awfully by the top model Lydia Martin” the magazines said and if only it was true, then perhaps it wouldn’t have made him so sad. The fact that Lydia Martin was lesbian wasn’t revealed to the press when Dylan found out. They both had laughed it off and when Lydia begged him not to say anything he smiled and told her not to worry. After wards they became close friends and the paparazzi soon forgot about the incident.

He tried dating couple more girls but without success – either they were calling him to show up to some stupid event in order to get them on the first page or they wanted to ruin his life.

It took him almost seven years and about as many attempts at having a relationship with girls until he realized that he was gay. The amusing part is that he was in a relationship with a girl named Malia when he realized it by accident while watching his favorite porn site. As every other site there are ads popping out and when he saw one of them, something flipped in his stomach. The two men going at it somehow turned him on and few minutes later he was coming all over his hand while watching them. He laughed, tears streaming his cheeks until his mother knocked and asked if he was ok.

The mere act of jerking off left him breathless stretched in his king sized bed with a dumb smile on his face. It was the best orgasm he had, like ever. What surprised him was the amount of time it took him to come, because in all honesty, with his every other ex-girlfriend, it never took him less than two hours, sometimes even more. It was enlightening, as if a weight lifted off his shoulder.

The next day he called off his relationship, leaving the poor girl crying over him. It was a shitty thing to do, but there was clearly no future for them.

After two days he came out to his parents. It was probably the worst hour of his life, not to mention the most embarrassing one. They took it pretty well; with the whole “We’ll love you no matter how you are” and for the first time in fifteen years he said he loved them back.

Still, no matter how many weighs he would lift off his shoulders, the knot in his stomach never ceased to exists. Appointments to the psychologist followed, pills against depression, trouble sleeping at night and those things showed and people started to wonder and suspect.

It didn’t take him long to decide, better sooner than later, when he may fall deeper, throwing away those years he worked hard for. He changes his name to Stiles Stilinski and it feels free. He leaves behind a note stuck on the fridge saying “Don’t call me, I call you. I’m backpacking.” It’s simple and short and of course phone keeps ringing constantly for about a week when he is already in Asia. The life is cheap there, cheaper than he expected. He gets lost in the world that is technology, buying game after game until he realizes that maybe Asia is a bit too open minded. Leave it to little Japanese girls to spot his face and start chasing him everywhere. It makes him laugh when they push fan art of him and other men. It surreal and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was so known then maybe he would have stayed here for more than necessary.

The next stop is Europe. It doesn’t last long because between the Asian people and these goats he would go for Asia without a second thought. He’s been in Paris – he didn’t take a first step and the cameras were on him. Then he chooses Italy. He doesn’t remember talking with his hands so much in his life and mind you, he is a person where flailing his hands around gets people to understand him better, but he’ll be damned if it wasn’t overwhelming, not to mention his arms muscles hurt like a bitch.

Germany was horrible. People were literally throwing daggers from their eyes at him, until someone recognized him and everything turned into a complete chaos. Despite trying to joke it off and to his surprise people really falling for it, he had this shitty feeling he would eventually be recognized and then leave it to US to shout to the world that famous Dylan O’brien travels around the world.

Few more countries and he was done with Europe; too weird, too different, too….well, too trashy.

He doesn’t remember being home sick until he steps his foot on US ground. The smell in the air finally fills his lungs pleasantly. But he doesn’t get back home, he just buys a Jeep, albeit a second hand one, the cheapest thing he ever owned and starts out on the perfect American roads.

He is passing through San Francisco when his phone started ringing. The caller id shows his mother calling and with a roll of his eyes he answers with a slide and presses the speaker.

“Hi mom.” He answers, slightly disturbed by the fact that his folks are not keeping the promise of not calling.

Hello son, glad to see you are as eager to hear as we are.” His father’s rough voice sounds through the phone and Stiles tenses. He wasn’t expecting his dad to call, let alone reply on a sarcastic tone. There is a smile tugging at his lips.

“Sorry dad, I was driving.” He lies and hopes his father doesn’t pick up on it. He can hear his mother shouting a ‘how are you? Everything is ok?’ and several more questions he tries not to take in consideration because he just has a feeling about what she asks.

Was or are?” his dad asks casually, complelty ignoring Stiles' question, as if he just doesn’t know his son so much. Stiles has to admit he appreciates his dad for at least asking.

“Depends of what you mean.” He checks the rear mirror as he signals and pulls over. “I was driving. I stopped before you called.” He lies again, watching the phone carefully as if his dad can appear any time soon and shout “busted”.

Which was three minutes ago, but you pulled over five seconds ago.” John accuses, but Stiles can basically hear the smile in his voice. At least his dad has to appreciate the struggle. “Nevermind, but next time I’ll sic the police on you.” He threatens.

“Come on dad, I was going to pull over, just not in the middle of the desert.” Stiles sighs and rubs at his forehead. “I’m going to Seattle, see how are things around there.” He confesses. He talked with his parents saying he will return, but not home, he just wanted to travel around US for a bit more before coming back.

Then why did you answer the phone?” his dad asks, mumbling something more to his wife before laughing. Something tightens in his chest, finally realizing is the homesickness. He lets his smile grow, hoping to see them soon and chat all night about what he seen and what he’d done as well as the knowledge he gathered from this trip. He just can’t wait for it to happen.

“Because if I don’t, you start worrying.” He laughs and the adds “Don’t tell me is not like that because all know that’s a lie.”

True true. Anyway, glad to hear you are good kid.” He smiles and the fondness in his dad’s voice calms him immediately. “Your mom says she loves you.” He calls back and Stiles nods, forgetting they can’t see him. “And she says to be careful” John adds before there is a mumble and an “I’m not telling him that Claudia’ then some more arguing Stiles knows there is no heat behind it, before there is some more shuffling and his mom’s voice sounds through the speaker.

“Hi sweetheart, I think your dad forgot how he was in high school.” She chuckles.

“What do you mean?” Stiles frowns, the smile still plastered on his lips.

Anyway forget about your dad, how have you been?” she asks and Stiles can imagine her cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder why she works her magic around the kitchen.

“Good, traveling, I’m back in the US, probably will be home in two weeks, I’m not sure though.” he shrugs.

Oh that’s wonderful.” She replies, eager and so young. “We miss you so much. I hope you have been careful.” She teases.

“What do you mean? Of course I’ve been careful.” Stiles frowns, eyeing the phone and waiting patiently.

“So that means you met someone?” his mother asks, eager and Stiles groans, matching a similar noise in the background followed by a ‘leave the boy alone Claudia’.

“The hell mom, no I- no I haven’t and sides this trip is not about finding someone.” His long fingers combs his newly buzz cut hair, still not fully accustomed to it that it feels weird.

Mhm!” his mother hum’s pleased with taking a reaction out of her son. “I have a feeling you will.” She grins, or at least the words comes out as if she is grinning and Stiles holds this sudden urge to bang his head against the steering wheel.

Mom – ugh you know what I’m ending this conversation.” He threatens and when he hears the laugh and then the ‘love you’ he ends the call with a sigh.

Leave it to mothers to embarrass her sons. Despite the always awkward conversations he has with his parents, they always leave him smiling and at ease, to know that someone is there supporting you and loving you unconditionally. He smiles once more before turning on the engine and driving off towards Seattle.

It’s almost morning by the time he enters the city and while the streets are empty, everyone secluded in the comfort of their houses and apartments, Stiles decides to check the surroundings outside the city. In the last minute he decides to find something for rent, preferably near a forest, because nature always made him feel relaxed and at ease.
At about forty miles before Seattle he sees a huge panel announcing the annual summer festival in Beacon Hills. And before he can decide he turns right towards the place where the annual is. Perhaps that’s what he needs; a nice, simple town where he can mingle around those people. The only hope he has is that no one recognizes him which would be a loss when the photo of the town seems so peaceful.

Akane
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