all the boys // weekman

Dead On Arrival

dallon weekes feigned a smile, wrapping one of his long arms around some woman's slender waist ; looking straight ahead at the inconveniently placed camera. he cursed at himself mentally, for giving into the photo-shoot.

you see, dallon was a model ; a lifestyle forced upon him by his parents. he never understood how or why some people would exploit their barely 6 year old like that, but then again, he didn't understand anything about it, despite the 14 years of experience.

he thought that he was being pathetic for still giving into his parent's wishes at the age of twenty, however he knew that it'd be pointless and uneconomical of him to just give up his 'career'. despite the private tutoring lessons, he never cared for education, he already knew that neither algebra nor calculus were not going to be much of a use to him.

but sometimes, he wished they would.

most people would find that strange, what's even the point of knowing calculus or algebra if you aren't going to go for a degree in engineering or something? well the reason is that maybe then, dallon would have a chance in controlling his own life.

he felt disgusted with his line of work sometimes, how despite not having to show any actual talent, he was still strung out across the pages of glossy teen magazines, had tumblr blogs dedicated to him and even having a few articles written about him by underpaid authors on crappy sites such as buzzfeed. it felt wrong to him, he always felt that there were many underground talented artists that were hidden behind his spotlight glow.

he hated being named 'america's suiteheart' most of all.

the only upside of this ghastly lifestyle was his impressive net worth, being worth almost $900,000,000 ; however, even that managed to somehow strike repugnance into him.

"you're such an upstanding model, dillon," a thin woman that the model was posing with, complimented.

"it's dallon, not dillon, not dylan and most definitely not daldon," dallon replied in an vexed fashion.

she rolled her eyes in annoyance, dallon wasn't going to lie though, she was kinda hot. she also seemed unique to dallon,having the entirety of his career spent working with pretty little blonde girls as a child, to tall, slender girls with plump lips and flawless faces as a teenager and young adult ; however this particular woman was short with a slight acne problem and short cropped AstroTurf tinted hair, he would've never thought that she'd be a conventional model. 

and he was right, she wasn't a model. instead she was in some indie band that was apparently popular amongst aesthetic tumblr teens. as to why she was being photographed with some popular model? he had no idea.

"y'know, you could've just said thanks?" she replied jokingly, in an attempt to lighten the mood.  dallon re-arranged his face into a smile, he didn't feel like being an asshole today, especially not to someone who he thought was far more deserving of his fame. 

"i know, i know. but how on this fallen earth am i meant to win over your forgiveness, dear one?" he shot back in a mocking manner.

she, however, made a quick rejoinder by saying, "for one, you could call me 'eden', and for two, give me your phone and let's meet again at this abandoned skate park down jadewood on tuesday." 

dallon thought about it expeditiously, wondering what's the worst that could go down ; nevertheless, he made up his mind and just answered with a quick 'ya, sure,' before fishing out his phone from his back pocket.

eden grabbed the taller man's phone hastily and wrote down her phone number - 201-455-1557 - before handing it back.

after granting her goodbyes, she left. 

dallon ran his hand through his long-ish brown hair, ruining the style it was modeled into, as he tried to find his car keys. he felt slightly anxiety in his chest as they weren't in his jacket, nor the pockets of his jeans.

just when he thought he was going to have to confess to his insurance company that he was that much of an idiot that he had his car keys stolen, he heard a raspy voice ask,

"are these...yours?"

he turned around to see that he was being approached by some grimy looking guy with bright blue hair.

"yes, they are." he replied haughtily, snatching the keys from the shorter man's grasp.

"what's your fucking problem, i didn't steal your damn expensive ass car," he replied, sounding extremely offended by dallon's words.

the model didn't feel like he deserved a reply, nor was he worth wasting his time over ; therefore he just walked away briskly.

afterall, he is dallon weekes, and he doesn't need anyone starting a controversy where they'd twist his words to fit an agenda, plus, he doesn't spend time talking to nobodies. even the nobodies that he found intriguing.

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{A/N} heyy, hope ya'll think that's fine? I thought of this chapter during my history class but i didn't know when daldo and ry should meet so I just put it here because it seemed kinda fitting.

ya'll better be having a good/decent week

- 

xodyl