Saturday, August 22, 2009

Second Chances - Chap 9 (Beverly Hills, 90210)

Author’s Note: I don’t own Beverly Hills 90210.

Brandon barely made it through school the next day without calling her. He had come in hoping to catch her early at her locker, but had no luck and assumed maybe she just didn’t need to stop by it. At lunch, he scanned the quad for her, but was again disappointed. He asked Brenda if she was seen her in first period, but was once again let down finding that she had not come to school today. He began worrying that something may have happened after he left last night.

He made his way to his car as Brenda came up behind him. “Bren, can you do me a favor and get a ride home from Kelly?” She was caught off guard, “Why? What’s up?” He really didn’t feel like he had time to explain, but knew that his nosy sister wouldn’t give up until she had an answer. “I’m going to check on Stephanie.”

Brenda let her disappointment become obvious on her face, “Why is this girl so important that everyone is ready to rush after her no matter what time of the day or night it is?” Brandon overlooked her rant as he opened the driver’s side door and sat down. She wouldn’t let the conversation end so soon, “She has you wrapped around her finger, Brandon. She plays the damsel in distress and all her suitors come calling. When are you going to stop letting her play the victim? She can’t be that good in bed.” Brenda knew at that moment she had let her mouth run away with her, but it was too late. Brandon was now out of the car and he was red in the face. He looked like he was out for blood and Brenda had to take a step back.

“You don’t know a thing about her. Who are you to judge anyone? Are you really that selfish that the second the attention is taken from you, you start condemning someone else? Are you really that spoiled? Get off your pedestal, Brenda, before someone finally knocks you off!” Brandon’s words came crashing at her like a tidal wave. She stood stunned as he jumped back in his car, slammed the door and turned over the ignition. She continued to stare as he shifted gears and sped away not even giving her a second look.

Brandon made it to the hotel, throwing his keys to the valet, he ran inside past the doorman. He swiftly made his way to the brass elevators doors and couldn’t control his need to repeatedly press the up arrow as he waited for the doors to finally part. His nerves wouldn’t settle and he just needed to make sure she was alright. He bounced back and forth until the doors finally opened up allowing him to enter the tiny box. He pressed the penthouse button and took in as many deep breaths as he could.

Finally, the doors parted once more revealing the big, bright oak door at the end of the hall. He wasted no time making it down the hall and knocked as loud as he could on the door. He waited a second to listen for any movement from the inside. He quickly knocked again this time being interrupted by the door swinging open in front of him. He was quickly overcome with relief until he realized who was standing on the other side of the door.

“Dylan?” A deep fog of confusion swept over him, “What are you doing here? Where is Stephanie?” Dylan held the door open for him as he motioned for Brandon to come in. “She’s in the shower.” This information now hit Brandon hard. The idea of Stephanie in there taking a shower while Dylan is out here waiting gave Brandon a little more than a twinge of jealousy. “You didn’t answer my other question.”

Dylan could feel the hostility level rise in the room and tried to remain cool. “She called me last night. Apparently her uncle called her some time after midnight asking to speak to her.” Brandon was quickly thrown for a loop. Why hadn’t she called him with this news? Why was Dylan her first choice of calls? Was there something going on here that he wasn’t aware of? “Why didn’t she call me?” he threw his confusion at Dylan. “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her.”

“You said she called last night. Why are you still here?” Brandon was becoming increasing louder with each question. “Calm down, B. She called me last night because she was scared. What was I supposed to do, ignore her and tell her to call you?” Dylan spat back at him. “Maybe you should have,” he loudly shouted back and Dylan returned with, “She’s still my friend, too. What is your problem?” They stood toe to toe and eyeballed each other.

From the corner of the room an even louder voice drew their attention away from each other. “What the hell is wrong with you two?” Stephanie shouted at the two men who seemed to be ready to start throwing blows at each other. They continued to stare each other down as Brandon asked, “Why didn’t you call me last night?” Stephanie approached the two clad only in her wet hair and bathrobe holding the towel she had been using to dry her hair with in her hand. “I called my old friend Dylan because I needed someone who already knew what I was dealing with. I thought you wanted us to make up, so yes, I called him. I thought you would understand. And if you are going to act like an ass about it you can leave.” She stared at the two who weren’t separating and finally gave up the threats. She walked over to her door, “In fact, you can both leave.” She flung open the door.

Stephanie let out a small yelp and dropped her towel. The whole room went silent and it finally took Dylan breaking eye contact for their attention to turn to her. They watched as she backed away from the opening, the fear evident in her eyes. They both ran to her side and stopped on opposite sides of her turning there attention to the door. There stood the gray suit adorned man from the television the night before. There stood the man that had tortured her so many years before. There, in the penthouse doorway stood Peter Sloan.

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