𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 ᵈʸˡᵃⁿ ᵒ'ᵇʳⁱᵉⁿ [2]

1.9

NEW YORK
phone calls & frustration

Lavvie laid in her bed, Ranch kitty (being the perfect sidekick for pizza dog) laying between her legs as she watched the new season of Outer Banks. It had been hard for her to fall asleep without Dylan at her side, the bed always feeling cold and empty—the apartment entirely too quiet. Her phone began to go off, constant notifications ringing through. She checked it quickly, her face scrunching with annoyance as she read her husbands recent tweets.

It only took her seconds before she was pressing his contanct name, calling him. No answer. If he hadn't tweeted right before, she would've been fine, but she knew he was awake and had his phone. She called him again, this time he answered.

"Hey, baby, I can't— Tyler, shut up! I'm so sorry, I can't talk right now, I love you!" Then he hung up, without letting her getting a word out. Now, she was pissed. She could hear more than just Tyler in the back and from the spelling on his tweets, he was drunk.

So, she called Tyler who took no time to answer.

"Lavvie! Hi! Guess what I just did!" Tyler exclaimed, but she didn't care to hear it, her only concern was where her daughter was in that moment.

"Sorry, Tyler, can I talk to Dylan?" She asked, Tyler fell quiet, the voices and music in the background loud through the phone.

"Dylan? I don't know why-"

"Tyler, I'd like to talk to my fucking husband, right now." She said sternly, before the phone muffled, knowing he was passing it to Dylan.

"Baby, it's really loud in here, can't we just-"

"Where the hell is my daughter? And where the hell are you?" She knew she was being harsh, but she didn't care. Usually, it wouldn't bother her if Dylan had gone out, but that's because he'd actually tell her beforehand.

"One sec." Dylan mumbled, the line going quiet as the music faded out. "Sorry, what's up, babe?"

"Don't-don't babe me until you tell me where the fuck my kid is."

"Our kid." He corrected.

"Dylan, I'm not fucking playing." Lavvie retorted, not finding him amusing at all in that moment.

"Shes fine, the nanny has her." That only pissed her off more.

"At one in the morning, on a Thursday?" She questioned, tugging at the roots of her hair. She tried not to raise her voice, wanting nothing but to be with her child right then.

"Yeah, Tyler and I are at.. well we're at the dragonfly." Dylan said the last part in a mumble, knowing he was about to get yelled at.

Lavvie dropped her phone to her lap, running her hands over her face with frustration and she clicked speaker. She sucked in a deep breath, knowing she wasn't going to be gentle with her next words.

"So, you had the genius idea of-"

"Actually it was Tylers-"

"I'm talking." She interrupted him, hoping he realized she wasn't in the mood for his comments. "You decided that you were going to leave our daughter home with a what- seventeen year old nanny, all night. So that you could get shit faced drunk with your friend at a fucking strip club?"

The other end fell quiet, Lavvie quickly growing impatient with his response.

"It's just a few hours, Lav, she'll be okay. I didn't think you'd be that upset if I went out for a little, I'm sorry." She didn't accept his poor excuse of a drunk apology, her stomach knotting as her anxiety built.

Her head ran dizzy with a million thoughts.

What if someone breaks in?
What if there's a fire?
Does the nanny even know how to stop her from choking?
What if she falls out of her bed and the nanny doesn't realize?

"Dylan, I want you to get home, now and take care of my fucking daughter." Lavvie practically sobbed into the phone, wanting so badly to go home.

"Tyler actually thought-"

"I don't fucking care what Tyler thinks! I am your wife and we have a fucking toddler at home who needs you there!" She shouted back.

"Okay, okay, I'm going, there's an uber right outside now." He said, and Lavvie rolled her eyes, grabbing the nearest pillow and throwing it at the wall.

"If I don't get a call in an hour from you to see that you're home, I'm booking a flight and coming home first thing in the morning." She told him, meaning every word. She didn't care if she still had two weeks of filming left, she would go home to get her daughter and bring her back to New York with her if she had to.

"You will get a call, okay? I love you, I'm giving Tyler his phone back and leaving." He told her and she wiped the tears that fell, trying to control her breathing as the intrusive thoughts continued to flood her mind.

"Love you." She muttered, hanging up the phone and letting out a frustrated cry.

She was tempted to message Tyler, now angry with him for encouraging Dylan's immature behavior. She decided against it, knowing it would only make Dylan upset. Decided to lay down, she cuddled into one of her pillows, hugging it tightly as she waited for the call back.

Thankfully, an hour later, Dylan was calling back to show Rory sleeping peacefully in her bed.