Ficlet: A Giant Step
Author: ididntwannaship
Title: A Giant Step
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Dylan O/Tyler H
Character/s: Dylan O, Tyler H
Summary: Tyler’s lost the thread of the conversation (and the script), but maybe he’s finding something else.
Warnings: None
Content Notes: Ferris wheels
Submission Type: Ficlet
Word Count: ~1k
Prompt: #251 - Lost
Author's Notes: I meant for this to be longer, but time, so… this is part of the series Welcome to the Zoo.
Tyler’s lost.
There was a script. He read the pages, he paid attention, everything was memorized. When they started this scene, it was him and Dylan and Holland at a fair, separated from everyone else, and he’s pretty sure that they were all supposed to end up on the ferris wheel together. But somehow now it’s him and Dylan being strapped into the basket of an actual ferris wheel, and a camera placed opposite them to film them as they ride.
And Dylan’s been talking the entire time. About little things, like getting corn dogs after the ride, and whether Holland’s going to find Colton so they can ride the Tunnel of Love.
“Maybe we should go ride it,” Tyler says, and Dylan goes silent.
Absolutely, completely, utterly silent.
Tyler scrolls back through the conversation, realizes what he just said. “Fuck.”
More silence.
“Don’t worry, they’ll edit it.” The cameraman finishes getting the cam in place, pats it to make sure it doesn’t move, then waves to the ride operator. “They’re good, take them up. Let them go for a good long time, okay?”
Everything they say will be on camera now, like a reality TV show. The release Tyler signed means that they can use the material, whether scripted or not. As long as the camera captures it, it’s viable for the show.
His cheeks are hot.
Dylan slumps slightly on the metal seat, arms crossed. Tyler swallows, mouth dry, and tries to restart the conversation as the ferris wheel moves. Tyler touches Dylan’s foot with his own, nudging him again until Dylan glances over.
“So. Heights,” Tyler says. It’s not his line. He couldn’t even tell you what his actual line is, and he thinks it was supposed to be something about Holland being squished between them, which won’t work now that she’s disappeared.
Dylan straightens up slowly, rising as the wheel rises. They pause about halfway up, and Dylan looks over the edge, setting their chair swinging. Tyler reaches out to grab on and stabilize himself, and ends up grabbing Dylan’s hand. “Sorry,” he says.
“It’s okay.” Dylan slips his hand free. “I wrote a song about this, but Posey doesn’t think we should do it.”
Tyler’s brow furrows. He gestures between himself and Dylan. “This?”
Dylan blinks rapidly, cheeks a warm rose under the moles. “This,” he says, spreading his hands to indicate the view outside of their cart. “About carnivals, actually. And the ferris wheel, and being able to see everything when you get up to the top. About how everything looks different from up there.”
“Oh.” It’s Tyler’s second time on the show, and he thought it would be easier, that he’d be able to find words in front of the camera. But once again his tongue is tied, and he’s reduced to monosyllabic mutterings. It works for his character, but leaves him feeling awkward. “So, uh… how did you get into music, anyway?”
Something sparks in Dylan’s eyes, and he grins. “My uncle gave me a drum set when I was five.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and Tyler cocks his head, motions with his hand for more.
“And I started piano lessons when I was six,” Dylan admits. “I was kind of a musical prodigy. But don’t say that in front of Colton; he gets offended to think I’m better than him.”
“Colton’s got a good voice,” Tyler says. He’s heard him on the show, and he’s heard him back when they worked together before. It’s not a traditional voice for a front man. Deeper. Smoother. But it works for the band, particularly with Dylan and Holland backing him up. “So do you.”
Dylan bumps his shoulder, setting the chair to rocking. “Are you buttering me up? You haven’t come to hear us play, yet. Just in the house after the apology baking, and that’s not the same.”
“Are you playing the baseball song at the show tomorrow?” It’s an actual line from the actual pages of the script, and Tyler’s proud of himself for managing to dig it out of the recesses of his mind and get them somewhere back on track.
“Are you catching what I’m pitching?” Dylan sings, nodding as he continues in a speaking voice. “Yeah, we’ve got ‘Pitch’ on the playlist for tomorrow night. You going to take advantage of those backstage passes I offered? Or do you have a game?”
Game? Oh. Right. This is all make believe, and last time “Barry” had to hit the road for a series and couldn’t see The Zoo on stage.
This isn’t supposed to be about Tyler just wanting to watch Dylan on the drums.
He licks his lips, nods once slowly. “Yeah.” The ferris wheel jerks back into motion, moving until it strands them at the top, the entire fairground spread out beneath them. Tyler’s fingers itch, wanting to grab Dylan’s shirt as Dylan leans out over the edge, staring down. “I’ll be there,” he says quietly. “I can be out with the rest of the audience, though. I don’t need to be backstage.”
“And if I want you backstage?” Dylan straightens up, stretches back enough to make his shirt ride up. “Posey’s getting on the ferris wheel. I don’t recognize the girl he’s with. I think I saw Holland and Colton over there.”
Tyler leans forward, following Dylan’s gesture. When Dylan touches his face, turns him to look in the right direction, Tyler’s heart skips, thuds loudly. Tyler swallows hard, nods like he’s seen them.
Lines, there are lines to be said, and he can’t remember any of them right now.
Dylan sits back, his arm across the back of the seat as it sways. “I want you backstage,” he says quietly. “Say you’ll be there.”
Tyler locks gaze with Dylan, licks his lips and watches as Dylan does the same, mirroring the gesture. “Okay,” he agrees, “I will.”
The ferris wheel moves, and Tyler falls back, Dylan’s arm warm behind him. They should still be talking, but as the wheel takes them to the bottom then back up again, Tyler doesn’t want to break the silence. And for once, it seems like Dylan’s okay with the quiet, too.
Which is fine with Tyler. He’s losing track of what’s real and what’s the role, and silence means he doesn’t have to figure it out right now. He can be lost in peace, and pretend it’s all real.
Title: A Giant Step
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Dylan O/Tyler H
Character/s: Dylan O, Tyler H
Summary: Tyler’s lost the thread of the conversation (and the script), but maybe he’s finding something else.
Warnings: None
Content Notes: Ferris wheels
Submission Type: Ficlet
Word Count: ~1k
Prompt: #251 - Lost
Author's Notes: I meant for this to be longer, but time, so… this is part of the series Welcome to the Zoo.
Tyler’s lost.
There was a script. He read the pages, he paid attention, everything was memorized. When they started this scene, it was him and Dylan and Holland at a fair, separated from everyone else, and he’s pretty sure that they were all supposed to end up on the ferris wheel together. But somehow now it’s him and Dylan being strapped into the basket of an actual ferris wheel, and a camera placed opposite them to film them as they ride.
And Dylan’s been talking the entire time. About little things, like getting corn dogs after the ride, and whether Holland’s going to find Colton so they can ride the Tunnel of Love.
“Maybe we should go ride it,” Tyler says, and Dylan goes silent.
Absolutely, completely, utterly silent.
Tyler scrolls back through the conversation, realizes what he just said. “Fuck.”
More silence.
“Don’t worry, they’ll edit it.” The cameraman finishes getting the cam in place, pats it to make sure it doesn’t move, then waves to the ride operator. “They’re good, take them up. Let them go for a good long time, okay?”
Everything they say will be on camera now, like a reality TV show. The release Tyler signed means that they can use the material, whether scripted or not. As long as the camera captures it, it’s viable for the show.
His cheeks are hot.
Dylan slumps slightly on the metal seat, arms crossed. Tyler swallows, mouth dry, and tries to restart the conversation as the ferris wheel moves. Tyler touches Dylan’s foot with his own, nudging him again until Dylan glances over.
“So. Heights,” Tyler says. It’s not his line. He couldn’t even tell you what his actual line is, and he thinks it was supposed to be something about Holland being squished between them, which won’t work now that she’s disappeared.
Dylan straightens up slowly, rising as the wheel rises. They pause about halfway up, and Dylan looks over the edge, setting their chair swinging. Tyler reaches out to grab on and stabilize himself, and ends up grabbing Dylan’s hand. “Sorry,” he says.
“It’s okay.” Dylan slips his hand free. “I wrote a song about this, but Posey doesn’t think we should do it.”
Tyler’s brow furrows. He gestures between himself and Dylan. “This?”
Dylan blinks rapidly, cheeks a warm rose under the moles. “This,” he says, spreading his hands to indicate the view outside of their cart. “About carnivals, actually. And the ferris wheel, and being able to see everything when you get up to the top. About how everything looks different from up there.”
“Oh.” It’s Tyler’s second time on the show, and he thought it would be easier, that he’d be able to find words in front of the camera. But once again his tongue is tied, and he’s reduced to monosyllabic mutterings. It works for his character, but leaves him feeling awkward. “So, uh… how did you get into music, anyway?”
Something sparks in Dylan’s eyes, and he grins. “My uncle gave me a drum set when I was five.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and Tyler cocks his head, motions with his hand for more.
“And I started piano lessons when I was six,” Dylan admits. “I was kind of a musical prodigy. But don’t say that in front of Colton; he gets offended to think I’m better than him.”
“Colton’s got a good voice,” Tyler says. He’s heard him on the show, and he’s heard him back when they worked together before. It’s not a traditional voice for a front man. Deeper. Smoother. But it works for the band, particularly with Dylan and Holland backing him up. “So do you.”
Dylan bumps his shoulder, setting the chair to rocking. “Are you buttering me up? You haven’t come to hear us play, yet. Just in the house after the apology baking, and that’s not the same.”
“Are you playing the baseball song at the show tomorrow?” It’s an actual line from the actual pages of the script, and Tyler’s proud of himself for managing to dig it out of the recesses of his mind and get them somewhere back on track.
“Are you catching what I’m pitching?” Dylan sings, nodding as he continues in a speaking voice. “Yeah, we’ve got ‘Pitch’ on the playlist for tomorrow night. You going to take advantage of those backstage passes I offered? Or do you have a game?”
Game? Oh. Right. This is all make believe, and last time “Barry” had to hit the road for a series and couldn’t see The Zoo on stage.
This isn’t supposed to be about Tyler just wanting to watch Dylan on the drums.
He licks his lips, nods once slowly. “Yeah.” The ferris wheel jerks back into motion, moving until it strands them at the top, the entire fairground spread out beneath them. Tyler’s fingers itch, wanting to grab Dylan’s shirt as Dylan leans out over the edge, staring down. “I’ll be there,” he says quietly. “I can be out with the rest of the audience, though. I don’t need to be backstage.”
“And if I want you backstage?” Dylan straightens up, stretches back enough to make his shirt ride up. “Posey’s getting on the ferris wheel. I don’t recognize the girl he’s with. I think I saw Holland and Colton over there.”
Tyler leans forward, following Dylan’s gesture. When Dylan touches his face, turns him to look in the right direction, Tyler’s heart skips, thuds loudly. Tyler swallows hard, nods like he’s seen them.
Lines, there are lines to be said, and he can’t remember any of them right now.
Dylan sits back, his arm across the back of the seat as it sways. “I want you backstage,” he says quietly. “Say you’ll be there.”
Tyler locks gaze with Dylan, licks his lips and watches as Dylan does the same, mirroring the gesture. “Okay,” he agrees, “I will.”
The ferris wheel moves, and Tyler falls back, Dylan’s arm warm behind him. They should still be talking, but as the wheel takes them to the bottom then back up again, Tyler doesn’t want to break the silence. And for once, it seems like Dylan’s okay with the quiet, too.
Which is fine with Tyler. He’s losing track of what’s real and what’s the role, and silence means he doesn’t have to figure it out right now. He can be lost in peace, and pretend it’s all real.