Epilogue.

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|| Elle Magazine Shoot & Interview || NY ||

June 23rd, 2025

“It has been said by a lot of directors and photographers that you’re not the easiest person to work with. What’s your reaction to their comments?”

“Everyone has good days, everyone has bad days. I wouldn’t say that I’m the easiest person to work with and I wouldn’t say that I’m the hardest person to work with. I’m just myself. I work at a certain pace, I’m very particular with my work style and I have an opinion. Unlike a lot of other celebrities, especially models, I have a voice, I have an opinion. I guess I’m just not afraid to speak up. Sometimes being a boss and being in charge can be confused with being a bitch or a diva.”

“Now let’s talk about your friends in The Socialite’s crew. Marley Andrews was recently spotted flirting and holding hands with both Daniel Woods and Zayn Malik in public. Comments?”

“I definitely don’t want to talk much on that, if Marley had something to share, she’d come right out with it. All I know is that she’s an adult, she can make her own decisions and do whatever the hell she wants. She’s 27. She should be flirting and holding hands with guys before it’s time to pop out kids.

“Nicely put. What do you have to say about Grace Winston’s outfit from last Sunday afternoon? Do you think that she’s getting too old for it?”

“A lot of people didn’t like her see-through shirt, which I understand. She’s an extremist in everything she does and she never backs down in fear of tabloids, which should be a good thing. I definitely don’t think that anyone could rock some of the things she wears quite as well as she does. Sure, she’s in her late twenties. But she has a kick ass body for someone her age and why shouldn’t she show it off? I think people should be less worried about her boobs and more focused on her amazing personality and loving heart.”

“Speaking of Winston’s, you and James recently got engaged. How did it happen? When is the wedding? And can we see the ring?”

“Yes. I’m not exactly sure when the wedding will happen, we definitely have a lot of other things we’d like to do before then. We’re in no rush. As for the proposal, I don’t want to give out much information, but it was over the top and amazing. It doesn’t seem like it, but James is romantic… when he wants to be, at least.”

“So we can safely assume that the rumor about your hookups with Christopher Black weren’t true?”

“Ah-viously false.”

“Kristen Gregory has been quite active in politics since President Trump was elected. She started out as a Trump supporter, but then took a turn and went to Hillary’s team. Who did you vote for? Are you excited to see who will be the representatives for the next presidency?”

“I’m a woman, I’m a feminist and I have multiple gay best friends. Who do you think I voted for? As for the future, I’m not sure how it will go, but I am excited to see. I’m just hoping we don’t have another disaster election.”

“I think we all hope the same thing. Speaking of gay best friends, you haven’t spoken about Derrick and Liam’s relationship, yet. How do you feel about it?”

“At first it was confusing because Liam is my best guy friend, we hang out all the time. Derrick was my first boyfriend and we dated for over six years, plus our families have known each other for decades. I’m not going to lie, it was difficult for me to wrap my head around. But I see the way they are with each other and I can’t deny the fact that they truly love one another. I approve 100%.”

“It was recently let out into the news that Darren will be joining the Marine Corps. How do you feel about that?”

“I’m torn. I’m so happy that he’s serving our country and doing something so wonderful. But at the same time, it’s upsetting. But I get it.

“He’s quite brave, I wish him the best of luck. Johnny Mayer just released another novel based on a hopeless romantic who falls for a complicated movie star, similar to Marilyn Monroe. The book was another amazing hit, congratulations to him for the success he’s gained. But we have one question- is the plot and/or characters inspired by his own life? Does he really have a Scarlet Madison in his life?”

“He’s just amazing, isn’t he? As for the girl, I’m not sure who he was thinking of while writing, or if he was thinking of anyone at all. But I have some ideas and thoughts, those of which I won’t share.”

“While we’re on the topics of books, you recently decided to write a novel about your life while at Brown University. It’s quite raw and shows a lot of the downsides to fame and being a woman in today’s society. It has gotten a lot of good and bad press, it’s quite controversial. Why did you decide to write something like this?”

“I wanted to show that I am a normal human being, just like everyone else. I just happen to have my name in newspapers and tabloids. I also wanted to help girls out, to show them that you don’t have to be insecure about yourself and try so hard to be someone you’re not. The second that you find yourself, get rid of the nonsense in your life, and believe in yourself is the second that you truly become happy. I included a lot of bits that my manager told me I shouldn’t have, including some details on my love life and some depressing thoughts and things I did. But it was all me, it was raw and untouched. I think that’s why it’s so controversial.”

“Nonetheless, it’s sold millions of copies and everyone’s talking about it. Why do you think people are so interested in your life?”

“It’s simple- I’m Dylan Marvil. Everyone wants to figure me out.”


Hello everyone –

I thought that I could get around this, that I could just take a hiatus and things would get better, that my opinion would change. But it doesn’t work that way and deep down I knew that this is what would happen.

I never knew when this would be published or if I even had the guts to do this. Writing posts about possibly quitting seemed a lot less scarier than this. This is real- this is the end. Up until now I could think about this with my head up high and determination written all over my face. But now, I’m not so sure that I’m ready for this.

It doesn’t seem like the best decision, but it’s definitely the right one. I don’t know whether I should cry, smile, throw up, or sigh. This community, this blog, these characters have all been apart of my life for as long as I can remember. But now it’s time for me to move on.

I’m not 100% happy here anymore, but I can’t deny that this wasn’t one of the best and most amazing things that has happened in my life so far. I’ve met and talked to so many different amazing people from all over the globe. Who knew I’d be such good friends with someone from New Zealand? Who knew I’d work with girls from all over America? I never knew what I was getting myself into when I started, I just had no clue. But now I’m leaving this place with hundreds of dedicated readers I’ve gotten to know over the years, multiple characters and plot lines that will always be in my heart, 6 amazing years of growing as a person, 3 beyond amazing friends, many broken computers, tens of notebooks filled with ideas, overwhelming amounts of character playlists, useless amounts of information installed in my brain, and one unforgettable experience.

As for my future plans? I’m not sure what will come after this, but this won’t be the last of The Brown Crew and the rest of the characters I’ve created. I’ve created way too many TV show- worthy plot lines and real life characters to have it disappear into cyberspace. I definitely want to see what else is out there. And who knows- if the community isn’t dead completely, I could come back in the future. I’ll definitely still be around and about, I’m not going to disappear. Every so often I’ll read some posts and check up on AIM.

As for my RL Brown Crew and all of the girls who have been apart of it, you girls fucking rock. I couldn’t have asked for better blog-mates.

Thank you to everyone for making this place amazing. I’ll remember this for the rest of my life.

I love you guys. Keep writing.

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Song

xx, -Dylan

Cruel Intentions.

The Avery | Providence | October 27th | 12:53 am

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Stress level : Ashlee Simpson’s hoedown on SNL | Mood : 😕

Lights flashing, drinks refilling, music blasting, people dancing. That was a typical night in the world of Dylan Marvil and her crew. At the start of the night they would be out to eat, enjoying their fancy, expensive meals when suddenly an idea would strike. The idea? To crash a party, club, or start some trouble that could, under normal circumstances, land them in jail. But when you’re Dylan Marvil, you don’t just “end up in jail”. You bat your fluttery false lashes and sign an autograph for the cop’s kid who just loves your mother’s reality show.

That night in particular, Dylan and her friends decided to use their fake ID’s and go to their favorite club, The Avery. Everything was the same as it always was- Grace Winston was up on the stage with the DJ, Marley Andrews was dancing with Daniel Woods and James Winston, Johnny Mayer in the corner gazing at them. Liam McNulty was fist pumping with a group of hot dudes crowding around him, while Kristen Gregory was giving some guy her number. As per usual, Darren Gallagher was casually flirting at the bar, sipping on a glass of whiskey. Christopher Black was probably in the bathroom with some girl. The only thing missing was Derrick Harrington.

It had been over two weeks since he basically broke up with her and she was about ready to beg on her hands and knees for him back. While they had been dating on and off for six years, she had forgotten how lonely it felt to be, well, alone. She missed his compliments, his smile, and his company. Naturally she would never say any of that to his face, so instead she decided to wait until he crawled his way back to her, leaving a dozen roses and a new J.Crew sweater on her bed as a truce.

But so far she hadn’t heard from him.

She replayed the scene in her mind over and over again. Waiting for him on his birthday, reading his texts, the argument, then his words. We need to take a break. It hurt her more than hearing that Zayn Malik was leaving One Direction, which obviously meant she was distraught and not exactly in a clubbing mood.

“Well you look like you’re having a fantastic time. Why so down, Marvil?” A seductive voice called out, waking Dylan up from a daze.

Turning around she saw a smiley, up-to-no-good Christopher Black approaching her. He was wearing an olive-green shirt, black jeans, brown boots, and a worn leather jacket (most likely borrowed from James Dean James Winston). It was strange to seem him in such relaxed clothing on a night out, he normally wore a suit anytime paparazzi were involved. She wasn’t quite sure why, but had a feeling it was because of his parents and his “image”. He looked sweaty under the harsh lights and his hair looked messier than usual. He reeked of cigars, cologne, and brandy.

“I’m just thinking.” Dylan yelled over the loud music, taking a sip of her beer. She wasn’t into drinking hard liquor unless she needed to forget and right now she needed to stay on her A game just in case Derrick decided to text her back. She could only imagine the drunk, whiny texts he would receive if she chose anything other than Corona.

“About Derrick?” Chris replied, sitting down on the chair next to her. Dylan nodded, embarrassingly. “Can I get six shots of the strongest liquor you have?” He asked the bartender.

She was about to protest, but one shot couldn’t hurt her. And plus, Chris was finally acting like a normal human being for once, instead of a sex machine. “Do you know what I think? You need to forget about him.”

“Derrick?” She questioned, the bartender handing them a shot glass full of what looked to be vodka. She downed it, the liquor burning her throat. Chris did the same, but seemed to have an easier time getting it down. Dylan wasn’t surprised though, he always had a drink in his hands.

Once he finished, he slammed the glass down on the marble table, the bartender refilling it. “He’s like a fucking puppy dog. He has no idea about the horror in the world. And what’s up with all of that Christian bullcrap he’s always going on about? I don’t have any problem with a passion for religion, but come on. Like, I know he’s not totally into it anymore, but I do know he’s dedicated to it. Why else would he wear that pathetic ring all the time?” Chris spoke, giving Dylan chills- and not in a good way. Did he just say what she thought he said?

“What?” She said, furrowing her brows. Chris handed her another shot.

“His purity ring,” Chris shrugged, putting his hand on her thigh. “You do know that’s what it is, right?”

Dylan inched away from him, crossing her legs. She felt exposed and vulnerable, not just from his behavior, but because he knew what she had spent years getting nightmares from. She downed another shot, desperately looking for an escape exit out of the conversation. But there was none. “Yeah.”

“I’m shocked no one else has figured it out, especially James. I did way too many private school girls, I could spot that thing from a mile away. That, and the whole chastity look on their faces.” He smirked, biting his lip. He looked at her as if she were a jelly doughnut, moving closer to her. Dylan tried looking away, focusing on something else, but she couldn’t. He handed her another shot.

He continued to ramble on, his hand on her thigh again. “You know, you have the same look. The wide innocent eyes matching the confused and nervous expression you get whenever someone brings up anything too inappropriate for your liking. You just laugh it off and play along, but you never quite understand it, do you? Because no matter how many times you wear revealing tops and short skirts, you still end up looking like… just a private school girl.”

By now he was attached at her hip. She felt his hot breath on her already burning red cheeks, his lips brushing against her ear. His hand moved up her leg. “But what I don’t understand is why you’re still forcing a good little Christian boy to stay with you. You could have anyone. You could have me.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, kissing the top of her ear before biting it. He continued to kiss her playfully until he reached her mouth. But right as they were about to kiss, he pulled away, handing her the shot glass full of vodka.

“I could help you forget all of it, you won’t have to feel like a precious little flower anymore. You won’t have to pretend to be another Grace and Marley with another James and Daniel. You could be Dylan Marvil with Christopher Black… no one has to know. It could be our little secret.” He said, his thumb tracing over her collar-bone, moving down her to her cleavage.

Chills ran down her spine again and that’s when reality kicked in.

She smirked, biting her lip. “Too bad I don’t get with guys who have small hands.”

Chris hung his head, taking in the insult, but when he sat back in his seat and took another shot he didn’t seem to be affected by her comment. Unlike herself, he didn’t have to pretend to be confident and on top of things. His ego and self-confidence was through the roof every second. “I should’ve figured you’d settle for mediocre.”

“I’d rather settle for a mediocre boyfriend than a mediocre manipulator trying to get me drunk so he can take advantage of me.” Dylan shot back, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. She spotted her friends huddled together, Marley looking around with a confused look on her face. They were probably looking for the two of them, about to leave for the night.

Chris took notice of the group, standing up from his stool and playfully punching her shoulder. “Nice talk, Marvil.”

“Ditto.” Dylan smirked, watching him leave. Her heart raced as she watched him joke around with her friends. Could he be so low as to tell them all about their conversation? How he almost seduced the virgin Mary? She took another shot. Marley finally noticed her at the bar, smiling and waving her over.

Dylan wasn’t sure of much these days, but she did know one thing- if she didn’t get back together with Derrick before the Halloween dance, her life and reputation would be over sooner than she thought.


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S o n g s.  O u t f i t.  M a r l e y  A n d r e w s K r i s t e n  G r e g o r y.

Thanks for reading,

xx, Dylan.

The Aftermath.

Table #3 | Small Point Café | October 11th | 10:07 am

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Rain was drizzling, the wind was blowing colorful leaves around, the air was crisp and smelled like autumn. Despite Providence being only 40 degrees that morning, Dylan Marvil and Derrick Harrington sat outside, snacking on their overpriced dishes. It had only been ten hours since Dylan felt the total embarrassment of setting up an entire birthday party for two, only to realize her beloved boyfriend was a no-show. She had been so enraged with anger, that she had eaten all fifteen pastries herself.

“Sorry about not turning up last night, the boys kept me out longer than I wanted. Hopefully you didn’t plan anything too extravagant.” Derrick said through a mouthful of lettuce. He was shaking from the cold, breezy rain, but didn’t dare say a word about moving their breakfast date inside. If Dylan Marvil wanted to sit outside and eat, everyone sat outside and ate- without a word.

Inside Dylan was still pumping with frustration, but she kept her cool, probably because she was too frozen cold to show any emotion other than a smile. “Oh yeah. We’re celebrating now and I can just give you the presents later. No worries.”

“You sure? You seemed pretty upset this morning.” Derrick replied, furrowing his brows.

Dylan rolled her eyes and gave him a forceful smile. “Puh-lease, I was just upset at Kristen for spilling oatmeal all over my Miu’s,” She lied.

“Oh,” He zipped his wool coat up to his Adam’s apple, his hair wet from the precipitation. “I think I’m going to see if they can make this iced coffee hot. It’s freezing out here.”

“Sure thing.” Dylan admired her oh-so-perfect boyfriend as he stood up and ran inside. She couldn’t tell if he was running so fast to get on the already long line ASAP or because he was happy to be in the warmth. Either way she felt ten times better. She was freezing her tiny ass off, but so was he. Now he knew exactly how she felt last night when he ditched her for his friends.

Right as Dylan was about to take another bite of her meal, Derrick’s phone buzzed on the other side of the table. For a second she thought about picking it up. I mean, she did know his pass code and she was bored, in desperate need of a scandal. But she trusted him.

As soon as she shrugged it off and looked out at the park across the street, the phone buzzed two more times, enticing her. Checking to make sure Derrick was still on the line, she reached over the food and snatched his new iPhone, her heartbeat racing. Taking a deep breath, she tapped in his password and the phone opened to three new messages.

Melanie Brooks : Hey Derrington, I hope this is your number
Melanie Brooks : The other night was fun, we should do it again 😉
Melanie Brooks : I don't know if you were joking about going to the dance together, but it'd be awesome if we did! I haven't talked to you in forever, we could catch up.

Before she could process the texts, she looked over and saw her boyfriend walking towards the door. Dylan placed the phone back exactly where it was and crossed her arms. She could ignore his absence last night, but there was no way could she ignore this.

“How’s the chicken?” He smiled, sitting back down across from her, sipping on his now hot coffee.

Dylan put on a fake smile and nodded. “It’s good. How’s Melanie Brooks?”

Derrick raised an eyebrow, grabbing a french fry from her plate. “What? Who is that?”

Normally Dylan would swoon over her adorable boyfriend on dates, especially in the winter. His nose would be a light shade of red, matching with his cheeks and plush lips. He would most likely have on a wool jacket that Dylan had given him for Christmas the year prior. His eyes would be sparkling in the cold wind. Every so often he’d sniffle and it’d be slightly gross, but then he’d say something hilarious and make her laugh. Despite his many flaws (Dylan could write a novel naming all of them, naturally), he kept her grounded and made her feel something everybody thought she’d never, ever feel- love.

But none of that mattered in that moment, because he was texting some other girl. Her reputation, her boyfriend, her relationship was all in jeopardy because of this bitch. “You should know, I mean you did give her your number.” Dylan tapped his phone, before he unlocked it and took a look himself. His cheeks started to turn a brighter shade of red and he looked like a deer in headlights.

“Oh, her. Listen Dyl, it’s nothing. We went to summer camp together, she goes to RIC, we saw each other at the bar and I gave her my number so we could catch up. It’s no big deal.” Derrick shrugged it off, grabbing her hand.

Dylan pulled away. “If it was ‘no big deal’, why didn’t you tell me?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Because I knew you’d overreact and I didn’t want to ruin this. I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Um, excuse you! I wouldn’t say getting upset over some girl texting you a winky face is the same thing as overreacting.”

An old couple walked past the two, gawking at her while she yelled at him. Normally she would’ve said something rude and intimidating to get them to stop staring, but all she could do in that moment was ignore them. “It was a friendly winky face, I’m sure she meant to just send a smiley. Please don’t get upset, she’s just an old friend,” Derrick tried to explain, before his phone buzzed from yet another text. “I promise.”

Dylan peeked over at his phone screen and saw it was from the same girl. “You’re delusional if you think she’s just trying to be friendly.”

“Dylan, I swear to God she’s just…” Derrick gave up, shaking his head. It was impossible to fight with her.

Tears welled up in her eyes as thoughts swam through her mind. She wished that she could stand up and yell at the sky, insisting that God should cut her some slack, as tears rolled down her face. But that would be beyond humiliating. “Were you with her last night? Is that why you didn’t come back to your dorm?”

“No. I mean yes, I saw her last night, but nothing happened.”

Dylan shook her head, biting her lip to hold back her emotions. “I don’t believe you.”

It was silent for a minute or two, the only sound coming from the cars racing past them. By now their practically uneaten meals were already cold, but they didn’t mind. They could easily afford another dish if they wanted to.

Derrick sighed, his eyes lit up with upset and anger. “What do you want me to say, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to delete her number? Will that make you feel better?”

“No, that will not make me feel better. Clearly my feelings don’t matter to you, anyways, because if they did, you wouldn’t have given her your number in the first place.” Dylan crossed her arms again. She felt powerless.

Before Dylan could continue on her path of explaining the endless list of issues she had with the whole situation, Derrick cut her off. “I need a break.”

The words stung her worse than a bee and only now could she feel the coldness of the October wind. “What?”

“We need to take a break,” He whispered. Dylan furrowed her perfectly tweeted eyebrows. Any second a pool of tears were bound to pour out, but she dug her nails into her palms to control it. “Because of her?” She asked.

“Not because of her, but because of everything. You’re controlling, you don’t trust me, and you’re a total hypocrite! How many guys did you give your number to in front of me?” He said, raising his voice.

More people walking along the sidewalk with umbrellas stared at them in confusion, making Derrick awkwardly smile at them and feel worse about yelling at his girlfriend in public. “Listen, I don’t want to upset you. But I just… I can’t deal with everything right now. I just need some space and time to think about us.”

In an instant Dylan had made her decision. She stood up, snatched her things, and slammed a twenty-dollar tip on the table. “Yeah, well, when you’re done being selfish and immature, call me.” If he didn’t want her, she didn’t need him. I mean, who needs a puppy dog boyfriend who can’t even work things out before quitting, anyways?

As she strutted off in the opposite direction, Dylan could hear him calling her name until she was down the street. Despite every bone in her body wanting her to run back to him, begging on her hands and knees to please take her back, she didn’t. Unlike all of the other times he said he wanted a break, this time felt different.

It felt permanent.


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S o n g.  O u t f i t.  M a r l e y  A n d r e w s.  K r i s t e n  G r e g o r y.

Thanks for reading,

xx, Dylan

Pilot.

Pastiche Fine Desserts | Providence | October 10th | 5:19 pm

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The second Dylan Marvil walked into the crisp white bakery, she was overwhelmed by the smell of sugar and heavy cream. If she was 13 years old again, she would run up to the counter (struggling to walk in her mothers huge, size 8 heels, of course), and demand to have one of everything before handing them her mother’s credit card and finishing everything in a matter of minutes. But thankfully this wasn’t 2010. Dylan had grown up to become a successful, respectable woman, which meant limiting herself to only one pastry a week. However, if she were to have a cheat meal only once a week, it had to be a pretty damn good pastry. And thankfully for her, Pastiche Fine Desserts, located on 92 Spruce Street in Providence, was the most amazing bakery in the state.

“Dylan darling! How’s my favorite customer?” A graying, old, Italian woman greeted the superstar. She was wearing a floral apron over black, flour dusted clothes. A pair of large frames sat on top of her aquiline nose, but she was still squinting. Her cheap, hot pink lipstick was smudged around the edges. Her thin hair was wrapped around the nape of her neck into a bun.

Dylan smiled, despite the woman’s embarrassing flaws. “Just fine, Rosie. I’m here for Derrick’s birthday.”

“Oh yes!” The woman grinned widely, showing off a set of fake teeth. “Tell him I said happy birthday. Lindsay, over here, will take your order. I’m just finishing up for the night..”

Dylan glanced over at the young, 20-something-year-old woman who Rosie was gesturing to. She was immediately greeted by an unfriendly, obviously jealous brunette. The girl had small, chapped lips, unruly eyebrows, freckles lining her small nose. Her eyes were intimidating, but not too scary for Dylan to handle- her friends had a darker gaze. She seemed more like a Hester from Scream Queens rather than a…. Patrick Bateman from American Psycho. Despite being typical model height, she looked too uncomfortable to be walking on a runway. It was almost like her height didn’t quite fit her, she was slumping over and looked like the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk. That wasn’t the only thing that didn’t fit her though- her small nose was too small. Dylan wondered how she could even breathe with it and assumed she had plastic surgery quite a few times.

“Can I help you?” The giant talked. She sounded sick and nasily.gif, lydia, and teen wolf image

Dylan lifted up her Gucci sunglasses and placed them on the belt loop of her jeans. “Yes, can I just get slices of cake? Or do I have to buy an entire one?”

“We don’t do slices here. You have purchase an entire cake to get a slice.” The girl automatically put on a smile, almost like she was happy that Dylan couldn’t get what she wanted.

Suddenly the pudgy Italian woman ran out from the back room, swatting at the fly-away’s around her face. “It’s alright, Lindsay! Dylan’s been coming here loyally for two years now. We will make an exception. We’re closing now, anyways.” The girl named Lindsay’s smile dropped and she grabbed a white box and gloves. “What would you like?”

Dylan waited as long as she could before answering, making sure she could annoy this girl as much as possible before leaving. “Two slices of the banana creme tart, a slice of tiramisu, one cannoli, two slices of pumpkin cheesecake, two currant walnut rugelach’s, and a couple of coconut macaroons. Oh, and a slice of the pecan tart.” She threw in a smirk at the end, playing with the ends of her hair and blinking sweetly.

The girl gave a slight eye roll and slumped off. “I’ll get that for you now.”

Just as Dylan was about to Snapchat her fans a picture of the delicious treats and thank Rosie for being so kind to her, the door to the bakery opened again, letting in a burst of cold air. In the doorway stood a guy wearing a leather jacket over a black shirt, black ripped jeans, and a pair of Tim’s. He had dark brown, almost black, hair that was gelled messily to the side. Light stubble lined his chin and he had subtle rings around his eyes, most likely smoking and drinking. Even when he smiled in her direction, his eyes lasered into her soul, making her feel uncomfortable. Lindsay, the giant, could learn a thing or two about intimidation from him.

“Hey,” Dylan called him over, tossing her phone back into her clutch. “I thought I told you that you could stay in the car.”

James Winston rubbed his hands together before running them through his hair. “Yeah, I know, but you took the keys and I’m freezing my balls off. I kinda need them for tonight, so I figured I might as well join you in the warm, nice smelling bakery.” Dylan giggled.

“You’re still going clubbing tonight?” Dylan furrowed her brows, James nodding his head. “Good luck finding somewhere to go on Columbus day.”

Before he could reply with a sarcastic comment, Lindsay slammed the box down in front of their faces. She put in the prices, ringing her up and folding the box up. “Damn, Dyl. How many people are you trying to feed?” James whispered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Your total’s $48.90.” Lindsay looked up at James, giving him a seductive smile. He returned one back to her.

Dylan handed her a random credit card in her wallet, trying to peel her friend’s attention off of the clearly unattractive worker. “It’s Derrick’s birthday, I’ll get as many pastries as I want to. It’s part of his present.” James shrugged, checking his buzzing phone.

“Here you go, Dylan. I really hope you enjoy your boyfriend’s birthday.” Lindsay gave the red-head a creepy smile, maintaining eye contact. Dylan snatched the box from her hands and sighed, walking towards the exit of the bakery. She was sure that if she had stayed in that place any longer, she would’ve ended being one of the pastries labeled “Strawberry Blondie”.

James held the door open for her, the two stepping into the freezing cold. Across the street two men with camera’s snapped photos of them walking.”Are you trying out that weird technique Daniel uses? You think if you buy him tarts and cannoli’s, he’ll want to hook up with you?”

“What?” Dylan stopped in her tracks, looking up at him with confusion in her eyes, before strutting back to her Range Rover. “No. I mean, yes, I’m planning something like that. But I’m not trying out any technique that Daniel recommends, trust me.”

“Good… cause you know, it never really works, anyways.” James said, a weird tone in his voice.

“Cool, weirdo.” Dylan shook away the amount of creepiness from the past ten minutes, opening her car door. She set the box of pastries down next to three other wrapped presents.

Derrick was going to love what she had planned.


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Hello there-

  • Welcome back to my blog 🙂 So I’ve decided to stay, I can’t let down my blogging friends or my characters. I’m going to continue on my own terms, meaning I’m going to be as active as ever. I’ll be posting whenever I feel like it (probably once a week), with whatever the length, comment on active blogger’s posts and just do me. I’ve gotten some nice responses on my previous rant post (which I’ve now deleted because it’s not relevant to this plot line and it can get confusing to readers), but I’ve realized that even with the lack of active bloggers, I’m not going to let it alter what I do or what I want to do. So in short, I will be posting with much enthusiasm and not even bother keeping track of the amount of support or hate I get for it. Hopefully you enjoy!
  • I’ve decided to change my plot line completely, but I will be combining previous plot lines and ideas together into one. I kept up my previous “real” post because it was something I am proud of and worked hard on. It also was pretty basic and doesn’t conflict with my new plot. However, I’m ditching my “find Dylan’s dad, worry about James” plot line in for “find Dylan’s stalker, worry about Derrick”. More will be revealed soon, but if you have any confusion on the details of my plot line, check out my about page here. Speaking of which, I have updated all of my pages and redesigned them.
  • The song that goes along with this post is Toes by Glass Animals. Credit to my sister for her amazing taste in music.
  • I want to say thank you to all of my supporters and the people who have stuck with me through everything. I’m continuing for you.

xx -Dylan

The Driving Chronicles

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Dylan Marvil strutted into the entryway of the ballroom hall, her two best friends at her side. The three had just come from the Marc Jacobs show for fashion week. Her friend, Marley Andrews, actually walked on the runway, making it the fashion show of the year. It was disappointing that Dylan didn’t get the spot, but meeting Marc afterwords and sitting front row was something she had to settle for. Even though she was the ringleader, the girl her best friends looked up to and confided in, she still fell short sometimes. Despite being total leader material, dropping the weight and gaining the attitude, there were prettier, skinnier girls out there who were also leader material. Example being her two, totally hot best friends. They were undeniably stunning, one blond and one brunette, both petite and naturally perfect. Then there was the big chunk of red velvet cupcake in the middle of them, equally as stunning, but there wasn’t that spark that the other two girls had. She was a day late and a dollar short. And Dylan hated that more than anything.

But at the same time, Dylan knew how to keep people interested in her. Unlike Kim Kardashian, she didn’t pop out babies or wear lingerie to keep on the front page of US Weekly. Drama was spread around about her, but not so much gossip where everyone eventually started hating her and wishing she’d just bury herself. She would keep everything vague, mysterious, and scandalous. It was the same with boys. Dylan liked to give them a taste and keep everything playful. So sure, she might be a red velvet cupcake. But she was the cupcake the hottie in a committed relationship would pick up for a treat, “cheating” on his “diet”.

“Oh my gawd, they seriously have no life! Do they just, like, wait outside for hours just to take fifteen half-assed shots of people?” A whiny voice complained, waking Dylan up from a daydream.

Behind the glass windows in front of them stood hundreds of men holding large camera’s, yelling and banging on the doors. Throughout the crowd stood a few random people, waving around pictures and notepads, hoping to get the trio’s autograph’s. Dylan had a love-hate relationship with paparazzi. She loved the attention, it gave her an adrenaline rush and put a smile on her face. But they were aggressive and wouldn’t leave her alone, they created stories out of thin air and screamed nonsense in her ear. “They’re paps, Grace, it’s their job.” Marley sympathized, hugging her friend. The three girls ran to the window and looked around in awe.

“I know,” Grace Winston sighed, “I’m just over it. If they want a quality picture of me, they should check my Instagram.”

Once security showed up, the three girls attempted to walk to their rental car. Cameras flew in their face’s, pens were practically thrown at them and it was almost impossible to get through the crowd of people. Thankfully they were wearing sunglasses, or else they probably would’ve been blinded.

“This is insane, right girls?” One of the bodyguards laughed, secretly loving the attention. He stopped every so often to pose and looked totally conceited. If only he knew that the attention wasn’t on him.

“Marley! Do you have anything to say about Miley Cyrus’s retirement from the red carpet?” Some guy shouted, shoving a camera in the model’s face. “Trump or Clinton?”

“Grace, over here! To your left!” Another one yelled, the flash blinding the brunette.

“Dylan, it’s my birthday!” Someone screamed in her ear.

Once the best friends got in the car, Marley slammed the door shut and sighed. “They are such LOSERS!”

It was silent for a few moments, the girls fixing their hair and trying to calm down from the stress. Their driver took off to get them all to their hotel, constantly slamming on the breaks. Finally Grace broke the silence, her face lighting up with excitement. “Marl’s, what do you think I should wear tonight? That new mustard colored dress I got from Mango with the Lane Crawford handbag or my beige ASOS jumpsuit with Louis’?”

Marley tapped her fingers on her clutch, trying to decide. “Umm… I vote Mango, more ‘fashion week’, you know?”

“What do you think, Dyl?” Grace turned to her left, facing the redhead.

“Mango’s nice.” She shrugged.

Dylan’s friends chatted enthusiastically about what was to come that night, excitement in the air. Finally they turned back to their silent bestie and furrowed their brows. “What are you wearing, mute?” Grace giggled.

“Probably that Ralph Lauren silk, houndstooth dress with booties.” Dylan smiled.

Marley’s eyes lit up and she sat up straighter. “Cute! I’m thinking of wearing-“

All of a sudden the car came to a short stop and the three peeked out the window to see what happened. A tall blonde with way too many papers jumped out at a green light, their driver almost running her over and knocking her belongings all over the street. A few by passers helped her pick everything up, cars honking in the traffic.

“Jesus, dude, you almost ran her over and killed us!” Dylan exclaimed, putting her hand over her heart dramatically.

The driver turned around to face the superstars, his eyes full of worry. “I’m so sorry about that, ladies. She jumped out of nowhere. Please forgive me.” He tried to explain, but the three girls ignored his plea. They knew he was probably a maniac who just wanted to get a tip at the end of the ride.

“Does he have a death wish?” Dylan whispered, making her friends giggle.

“Guys, that’s Katherine!” Marley shouted, pointing at the blond they almost hit.

Grace looked over at Marley, judgement in her eyes. “You mean Kristen?”

Dylan squinted into the distance, spotting her ex-friend, Kristen Gregory. In that moment all she wanted to do was hide in the trunk. “Oh yeah, she’s your old friend from high school. Let’s see if she needs a ride.” Marley smiled over at Dylan. She had no idea that her friend wanted nothing to do with Kristen anymore. Her presence made Dylan feel uncomfortably guilty and reminded her of how much of a reject she used to be.

“Kris!” Grace yelled out the window, “Yeah, hey…. do you need a ride?…. no, we’re offering… seriously, get in!”

Cars honked at the parked car in the street, angry taxi drivers screaming out their windows. If it was Dylan getting into the Escalade, she would take her time getting into the backseat, making sure she looked graceful. She would play Rhianna’s “Phresh Out the Runway” in her head, walking to the beat, just like her ex-Alpha taught her to, waving to the angry New Yorker’s as if they were her fans. But the humanitarian blond ran as fast as she could to the car, her hands full of dirty papers.

“Thank you so much, you caught me just in time. My feet are killing me in these Manolo’s.” Kristen sighed, taking off her shoes to reveal a fresh pedicure.  Dylan looked down at her own toes, spying a chip on the corner of a nail.

Kristen : 1, Dylan : 0.

“No wonder, nobody’s worn them since 2007…” Dylan joked.

“Please, they’re totally coming back,” Grace hit her friend in the abs, “SJPP is going to be so jealous, you look amazing in them.”

Did her new best friend just defend her ex best friend?

“Who or what the hell is SJPP?” Marley asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

Grace rolled her eyes. “Sarah Jessica Parker, duh.”

“Um… I think it’s just SJP, G.” Marley said, busy texting. She didn’t care much for celeb gossip unless it was about herself.

“No, I swear it’s SJPP, I heard Perez Hilton nicknaming her that!” Grace spoke defensively.

Dylan took the opportunity to put another point on her side.

“Yeah, because he hates her. Why would someone realistically nickname her SJPP? Besides, Sarah is totally out. I’d be embarrassed to wear anything she does.” Dylan dissed.

Kristen : 1, Dylan : 1.

Grace’s excitement disappeared and instead she looked out the window, pursing her lips. It was hard to see her best friend upset, especially because Grace was a firecracker who would normally spit an insult back. Deep down her friend knew it was pointless to fight with Dylan- she could out-sass anyone.

“Can I get a thirteen letter word for awkwaaaaard?” Kristen broke the silence, cheering Grace up and making Marley look up from her phone.

“Uncomfortable,” Marley exclaimed, “That’s cute! I like that.”

Kristen : 100, Dylan : -100

Kristen smiled at the compliment, fixing her papers into a neat pile. She had OCD since kindergarten, needing to make sure everything was perfect all the time. That made Dylan feel a bit better for a minute, realizing that the bombshell had flaws of her own. But having OCD wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Dylan could never keep her dorm clean and it made her feel like a slob. Maybe she needed to be diagnosed with OCD…

“It’s been my thing since middle school. Remember, Dyl?” Kristen said, putting a hand on the redhead’s toned leg.

Dylan simply nodded her head and gave her a slight smile. The uncomfortable energy floating in the air made the blond retract her hand and lose her smile.

“Hey, Kristen. Do you have any plans tonight?” Grace said, regaining energy from the previous criticism.

Kristen motioned to her stack of papers. “I was going to read these papers for philosophy, why?”

“Our friend, Christopher Black, is hosting a fashion week party at his apartment tonight. Wanna come?” Grace grinned.

“Yes, please come! You can be my plus one.” Marley widened her eyes in excitement.

Dylan sighed, shaking her head and looking out the window. They didn’t even have the courtesy of asking her before inviting her not-so-best-friend to her new best friend’s party? She looked over at Kristen. She looked uncomfortable in between the two, very enthusiastic girls.

“You remember Chris, right? He’s the sexy guy with the light brown hair, amazing blue eyes, very attractive.” Grace exaggerated, smirking at Kristen, who sat motionless.

“Okay, easy on the adjectives. You kinda have a boyfriend, remember?” Dylan dissed again, this time trying to come across as a nicer friend. Thankfully her friend took it as a positive and giggled, playfully swatting her.

“Yeah, I remember him,” Kristen trailed on, “Sure… why not?”

Dylan once again sighed and looked out the window, ignoring the sparked up conversation of models for fashion week. Instead the redhead was busy watching people hustle on the sidewalk. Some women were wearing heels, walking through the obvious pain. She wondered what it was like to walk for blocks, not wanting to pay for a taxi or limo. That made her wonder what it was like to be broke and having to walk in cheap, un-customized heels. She wasn’t a selfish person, she helped the homeless and gave to charities many times. But she grew up differently from everyone else. For her fifth birthday her mom gifted her a diamond, $6k pair of Hello Kitty earrings. Eventually she lost them on a trip to Disney World, but as life went on she realized that not everyone was gifted things like that.

“Ooo champagne,” Marley’s voice interrupted her thoughts, “I dedicate this drink to fashion week. The only time you can drink underage in the back of an Escalade with a reckless driver, poking fun at skeletal models with non-existent boobs. To fashion week.”

Grace passed around glasses, pouring the bubbly alcohol into each glass. The three four girls finally toasted.

“To fashion week!”


Hello there darling’s,

  • I hope you enjoy this post! It’s a lot different from previous posts, but I wanted to change-up Dylan’s character just a bit. Also, sorry again for the length! I got carried away. But next post will for sure be shorter, as I know not everyone has the time to read such longs posts. I hope you liked it, anyways 😀
  • I changed my face claim to Holland Roden! She’s amazing and a redhead! I wanted to pay tribute to Lisi Harrison by bringing back some of the Dylan sass, the red hair, and the time stamp at the top of my post. Speaking of which…
  • I want to give full credit where it’s due. I did not create the date and time bubble at the start of my post, MassieBlockLove thought of the idea to take that from The Clique books. So shout out to this legend for inspiring my own version of the time stamp 🙂
  • The song that inspired this post was “Crew Love” by Drake. Not everyone is a fan of rap, including I, but somehow Drake is someone I’ve learned to actually love. Enjoy! Sorry for the profanity!
  • Here’s the outfit that Dylan was wearing.

Until next time…

xx, dylan

teen wolf, holland roden, and tw image