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Dylan and Asher are silent.
That's not unusual for them. They spend tons of time without saying anything; when Asher is studying and Dylan's staring at the cute furrowed brow he gets when Asher's focused, when they're in the auditorium and watch the divas squawk at each other like angry geese from the auditorium seats, when they're in Asher's bed at night, and Dylan holds him until they're both sound asleep. They find comfort in that silence, where it's just them at that moment together.
But this silence didn't feel like that. This Friday night, there was a heaviness to their silence.
Dylan's driving and Asher's in the passenger seat. They've just dropped Lucas off, and right about now, Asher would be rattling off about whatever crazy stunt Lucas pulled. But not tonight. Tonight, Asher was weirdly quiet. He stared out the window, a distant look on his face. Dylan could sense something was up, but he didn't want to press him on it. Asher always came to him when things got bad. This time would be no different. He was sure of it.
Later, Dylan stopped the car in front of the Garcia residence. He looked at Asher, who was still in a dissociative daze. He gently put his hand on his shoulder. "Hey," Dylan says. "Are you okay?"
Asher keeps his eyes on the window. "Yeah, I'm fine," he says, clipped.
That icky silence returns. Dylan takes his hand off Asher, unsure of what else to do.
Asher finally turns his head towards Dylan, his face shining in the surrounding street lamps. He looks so beautiful, so Asher . But there was a sadness to him that Dylan immediately notices. "Can...can you hug me? Before I go in?" He asks, quiet.
Dylan nods, with no hesitation whatsoever. "Of course." He leans forward and wraps his arms around Asher, who returns the gesture and hugs him back.
They stay this way for a few moments before Asher pulls away. He looks at Dylan, almost pained. "I love you," he says, his voice shaky.
Asher opens the car door and gets out in a hurry. Before he can close the door, Dylan says, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
A look of panic flashes over Asher's face, but he quickly composes himself. He doesn't say anything and shuts the door without another word.
Dylan watches as Asher goes into his house, an uncomfortable feeling growing in his stomach. Something isn't right here.
The next night, Dylan climbs up the Garcia home to Asher's window. It's a habit he picked up over the summer - he'd climb up to Asher's window and stay the night, helping him fall asleep. He was excited to get to see Asher tonight. Work at his dad's rec center kept him pretty busy for most of the day, and Dylan was in desperate need of some quality time with his beautiful bird-boned boyfriend.
When Dylan gets to the window, he tries to open it, but it won't budge. That's weird , he thinks. Asher usually kept it open for him.
Dylan takes out his phone and texts Asher:
can you open the window? i think its locked
And he waits. And waits.
Dylan stays there for what feels like ages, staring at the window and desperately hoping for it to open.
But it never does. Dylan considers sending Asher another text, but it's clear he won't answer. He slowly begins to climb down, leaving Asher for the first time since they've been together.
Shit . Shit, shit shit.
Dylan is furiously scrubbing his plate in the sink. It's Sunday night, and he still hasn't heard back from Asher, and it's been eating away at him. His mind has been racing with so many thoughts: Why isn't he answering my texts? Did I do something wrong?
But Dylan can't do anything about it, so he's taking it out on his dishes.
When he's done with the dishes, Dylan heads into the living room. Maybe some mindless television will help settle his nerves. He walks to the couch and sees Grant lying there, scrolling on his phone and not paying attention to the soccer game in front of him.
Dylan reaches to grab the remote off the coffee table, but Grant snatches it. "I'm watching the game," he says, waving the remote in his hand.
"You're on your phone."
"It's called multitasking," Grant says, smug. "You and your peabrain should try it."
"Shut up, Grant! You don't have to act like a dick all the time!" Dylan yells before storming off.
Minutes later, Dylan is in his room - somewhere he's spent most of his time lately. He's in bed, staring at the text thread between him and Asher. Before, it was filled with lively conversations between them. Asher would tell him all of the mundane details of his day, and Dylan would read them as carefully as Mr. Matthews wanted him to read Shakespeare. But now, their thread was just Dylan's unanswered messages.
Suddenly, there's a knock at Dylan's door. "Go away," he calls out.
The door opens. Grant pokes his head into the room, looking worried. "Hey," he says, his voice soft. "I, uh, just wanted to say sorry about before."
"Okay," Dylan says, not bothering to take his eyes off the phone screen.
Dylan hopes Grant will take the hint and leave him alone like always - but he doesn't. Instead, Grant steps inside. He stands in the middle of the room, awkwardly sticking his hands in his pockets. He's silent for a long time until he finally says, "Is everything okay?"
"No," Dylan says. He finally looks away from his phone and gives Grant a harsh look. "But why do you care? You hate me."
Grant furrows his eyebrows, confused. "What? Dude, I don't hate you. I just like messing with you sometimes. You know? Like a brother."
Dylan softens a bit but doesn't say anything more.
Grant approaches the bed. "So...do you wanna talk about it?" he asks.
Dylan considers for a moment. It was getting lonely dealing with this Asher situation all by himself. He could use someone to talk to about it - even if that someone was Grant. Finally, Dylan sighs. "Okay, fine," he says. Dylan hands Grant his phone. Grant takes it and sits down next to Dylan. "Asher's been avoiding me."
Grant looks up from Dylan's phone, alarmed. "Seriously?"
"Yeah," Dylan says. "He hasn't talked to me in days. I'm starting to get worried. He's never been like this. He's just so...distant."
"'I'm sorry, man," Grant says, giving Dylan a sympathetic look. "But maybe it's nothing serious. Maybe he just needs space or something?"
Dylan nods, solemn. "Yeah, maybe."
Grant looks at Dylan for a moment. He extends his arm and awkwardly pats him on the back. "You guys will be fine," he says, trying to be reassuring. "You're, like, the most annoyingly perfect couple. Whatever's going on will blow over."
"You think so?"
"Yeah. Promise," Grant says. He looks at Dylan again, worried. "I could text Lily about it? See if she knows anything about what's going on?"
Dylan's eyes widen. "You'd do that?"
"Yeah, no problem. Hold on." Grant stands up from the bed and pulls out his phone. He clicks and clacks on the keyboard for a few seconds, then looks back at Dylan. "Done. Now we just have to wait and see what she says."
A small smile spreads across Dylan's face. "Thanks," he says. "You know, you could choose to be this nice even when I'm not going through an emotional crisis."
Grant grimaces. "Ew. What's the fun in that?"
Dylan rolls his eyes. Before he can say anything, Grant's phone beeps. He looks down at it, reading the message, then looks back at Dylan.
"Lily says Asher's been locked up in his room all weekend."
"Does she know why?" Dylan asks.
Grant shakes his head. "No, sorry." Dylan's face falls, and Grant notices. He continues to type on his phone and says, "I'll ask her to keep a lookout and keep me posted if anything changes."
Dylan nods. "Thanks. I owe you one."
Grant shrugs. "Meh. Just give me a shout out in your next YouTube video and we're even," he says, smirking smugly. However, he drops the annoying little brother façade for a brief moment. "Are you gonna be okay?"
Not until I can talk to Asher , Dylan thinks. But he can't very well tell Grant that and burden him even more than he already has. Besides, being optimistic feels like the best option at this point.
Right?
Despite any lingering doubts, Dylan forces a smile and nods. "I'll be fine, don't worry," he says.
Grant nods back. Without another word, Grant turns around and walks out of the room.
Once the door is shut, Dylan grabs his phone again. He goes to his text thread with Asher and types out another message:
im here when youre ready
Dylan's finger hovers over the 'send' button, hesitating, but he finally clicks on it. It's not like Dylan is expecting a response, but on the slim chance Asher reads his messages, he just wanted to be sure Asher knew that. That no matter how long it would take, he's going to be there whenever he's ready.
But when will he be ready?
On Monday morning, Dylan sits in the Adam's auditorium. It's not a new place by any means - he's been there almost every day for the past two years. Everything looks the same like it's any old day; Shawn is nowhere to be seen, Maya and Farkle are squawking at each other in shrill, high-pitched voices, Nate is twerking with the other techies by the stage, etc.
But the only new thing is that Asher isn't right there next to him. Dylan looks around, but Asher still hasn't arrived yet, much to his disappointment. There was no guarantee Asher would show up or talk to him, but Dylan was hopeful.
As if on cue, Asher Lupe Garcia walks through the auditorium doors. Dylan holds his breath and watches. He looks the same as he always does. His cute little hair swoop is perfectly coiffed, and his favorite burgundy sweater is wrinkle-free.
Asher approaches, and Dylan waves at him…
...but Asher briskly walks past him, not even meeting his gaze. Instead, he walks up to Jade and sits next to her.
Dylan sits there, completely shocked. What just happened? His boyfriend, the boy he's loved for years, just looked right through him and acted like he didn't exist.
What was going on? Dylan wonders. Did he do something wrong?
Asher remains quiet and withdrawn for the rest of the morning. Dylan wrestles with the idea of trying to talk to him but decides against it. Whatever's going on with Asher is clearly still bothering him, and Dylan didn't want to add to that - even if keeping his distance killed him inside.
Later at lunch, Dylan is about to walk to the techie table but stops in his tracks when he sees Asher. He's sitting next to Jade, talking to her, while the rest of the group listens to Nate animatedly tell a story.
Dylan smiles to himself. It looks like Asher's doing better if he's managing to talk to Jade. He's glad he's making progress, and he doesn't want to risk the chance to disrupt that by sitting at the table. Thankfully, there's another place he can go eat.
Dylan makes it to the prop loft and sighs in relief. The prop loft has become a bit of an oasis in the chaotic hellscape that is Triple A for him and Asher. He only discovered it through Asher, who absolutely loved spending time amongst the props.
Wow , Dylan thinks. Being here only makes me think of Asher more . He wonders what Asher would say if he saw him bring food so close to the precious props. Probably something along the lines of, 'No, Dyl! You might spill on Cinderella's slippers!' And Dylan would make a dumb joke just to get Asher to crack a smile.
God, his smile. Dylan missed it so much - he missed Asher so much. After being together for so long, Dylan never thought he'd be without Asher again. But here he was, and he hates it. Dylan hates the ache in his chest - the one that feels a lot like where Asher used to be.
A tear streams down Dylan's cheek. He wipes it away and looks around the prop loft again. There were so many good memories with Asher within those four walls - and he was determined to have more.
Later that afternoon, Dylan walks through his front door, completely exhausted from the day. He drops his backpack and skateboard onto the floor, and they land with soft thuds .
"Dylan? You home?" a voice from the kitchen calls out.
Dylan follows the voice and sees his dad by the stove. He's cooking what looks to be dinner for tonight and smiles. "Hey," he says. "How was school?"
"Good," Dylan says, though it comes out a little forced.
His dad picks up on it and raises an eyebrow. "Is everything okay?"
Dylan sighs. "Uh, not quite," he says. He leans against the counter and continues. "Something's wrong with Asher."
His dad freezes. He stops cooking and looks at Dylan, eyes wide. "What? Is he okay?"
"I don't know," Dylan says, shrugging. "He hasn't talked to me in, like, three days. And he didn't even look at me at all today. I'm starting to get worried."
His dad steps closer to Dylan and gives him a reassuring pat on the back. "I'm sorry, buddy," he says. "How are you doing with all of this?"
Dylan nods, determined to put on a brave face. "I'm fine. I'm just worried about Asher."
"Yeah, I get that," his dad says, his voice steady and calm. "But this affects you too. It's okay if you're not doing fine."
"I…" Dylan starts, shaking his head. "I just don't want to be selfish, you know? I mean, Asher's the one that's really struggling here. I just want him to be okay. And if he needs time and space, then…" his voice cracks, full of emotion. "Then I can take it."
Dylan's dad squeezes his shoulder. "I understand. Before, things with your mom could get intense. Sometimes she needed to sort things out on her own." He smiles, fond. "But we always came back to each other. And you and Asher will too. I know it."
"I hope so," Dylan whispers.
His dad smiles at him. "You're strong, Dylan. You have a big heart - you can get through anything."
Dylan lets the words wash over him. His dad was right - he did have a big heart. He just hoped it didn't break.
Tuesday goes by just like the day before. Asher spends the day avoiding Dylan, and Dylan reluctantly keeps his distance.
Later that evening, Dylan is washing the dishes. He's just endured another dinner of quietly sulking in his seat while his dad and Grant give him worried looks. He knows they care, but there's really nothing they can do - nothing he can do. All that's left to do is wait to hear back from --
"Asher!"
Dylan immediately turns around. "What?" he asks, worried.
Grant sits on the couch, frantically waving Dylan's phone. "Asher! He just texted you!"
Dylan immediately drops the dishes in the sink and bolts to the couch. Grant hands him his phone, and Dylan reads the message:
Hey. Can you come over?
A million thoughts run through Dylan's head: what does this mean? What does he want to talk about? What's changed? Is he feeling better now? But above all those thoughts, only one matters the most.
Asher finally reached out.
After days of radio silence, days of text messages left unreplied, days of wondering what was wrong, and not getting an answer - Asher finally reached out.
"I gotta go," Dylan says.
Grant nods. "Yeah, yeah, go ahead," he says. "I can finish the dishes."
Dylan smiles, grateful. "Thanks."
Dylan runs into his room. He looks through the closet and grabs a jacket. Dylan turns to leave but stops when he sees his desk drawer. That's where he kept mementos of Asher from their time together. Suddenly, a chilling thought pops into his head:
Should I pack it all up just in case?
Dylan hates that he even has to consider it, but he has to wonder. Maybe it would be for the best in case things go south tonight. That way, he wouldn't have to go back and face Asher again if they bre--
No, Dylan can't even finish that thought. He lets out a shaky breath and walks right past his desk.
On the drive to Asher's, Dylan keeps trying to push his doubts away. No way , he thinks. There's absolutely no way Asher wants to break up . They were Dylan and Asher. They've been through too much for Asher to just want to end it like that.
But on the slim chance he did, Dylan knows what he has to do. He'll say he understands and leave immediately. No final hug, no last kiss. Just a quick getaway. And by no means will he cry in front of Asher. Dylan doesn't want to make Asher feel bad when he's just trying to take care of himself. No matter how broken Dylan felt, he wouldn't let Asher see that.
Later, Dylan finally arrives at the Garcia home. He pauses for a moment to take it in. He can't even count the number of times he's been there - but this time was different. Dylan considers going his usual route and going up to Asher's window, but it doesn't feel right. Instead, he goes up to the front door and knocks.
A few moments later, it opens, and Asher's mom is on the other side. "Dylan, hi," she greets him, warm. "Are you here to see Asher?"
Dylan nods, nervous. "Yeah."
Mrs. Garcia opens the door wider and steps aside. "Go ahead. He's up in his room."
Dylan flashes a tight smile and jogs up the stairs. He walks down a familiar hallway, then finally stops at Asher's door. After days of waiting, he's finally going to see Asher. Possibly for the last time. Dylan took a deep breath, composing himself, then finally knocked on the door.
Almost immediately, the door opens. Asher is on the other side, and Dylan can't help but stare at him. There he is, the love of his life. Though Dylan saw glimpses of Asher during school this week, this was the first time he'd gotten a good look at him. There were dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't been sleeping. His skin was dull and lacked the dewy glow from his involved skincare regimen. But the real giveaway was his hair. Instead of his carefully-crafted swoop, his hair was messily pushed back and had no product.
But despite that, Dylan still found Asher to be absolutely beautiful. He couldn't see him any other way.
They stare at each other for a long, charged moment before Asher says, "Come in."
Dylan enters Asher's room and awkwardly looks around. There's a sizable distance between them that rivals the emotional distance between them. Neither of them dares to look at each other and stay silent until --
"I'm sorry about disappearing," Asher says, looking down at the floor. "That wasn't fair to you."
Dylan shakes his head. "It's okay. You're the only thing that matters."
Asher nods but still doesn't look at Dylan. He shifts on his feet, uncomfortable, and Dylan gives him a worried look.
"Are you okay?"
"No, not really," Asher says, choking up.
Dylan feels tears brim in his eyes. "Did I do something?" he asks, not being able to hide his heartbreak. "I'm sorry. I-I don't know what I did to make you upset and pull away, but I'm so sorry. I--"
"No, no, no," Asher cuts him off. He walks up to Dylan, closing the gap between them. "It wasn't you - at all. You didn't do anything. I promise."
Dylan wipes his eyes. "Really?"
Asher nods. "Yeah," he says. He stares at Dylan, giving him a soft smile. "You could never do anything to hurt me."
Dylan smiles back at him, feeling the weight of the past four days lift off his shoulders. After days of wondering and worrying what he could've done to hurt Asher so much, Dylan finally heard what he was so desperately hoping to hear: it wasn't his fault. He was relieved beyond words.
But something was still wrong with Asher.
"What happened to you?" Dylan asks.
Asher takes a deep breath. "It's...a long story," he says softly. He walks over to his bed and sits down, fiddling with his fingers.
Dylan sits down next to him. "I've got time."
Asher stays silent for a moment, then says, "It's Lucas."
"What about Lucas?"
Asher looks up at Dylan, confused. "He destroyed the set, Dyl. And we lied for him," he says, his voice simmering with anger. "I get he's our friend, but he's been out of control. I can put up with his reckless stunts most of the time, but that just…" Asher trails off and shakes his head. "That really got to me. I needed to shut down and not be reminded of what happened."
Dylan nods along. He gets it. Lucas has been on a warpath for months now. He can deal with it because he'd rather Lucas not spiral on his own, but he didn't realize how much it affected Asher. "I'm sorry," he says. "I had no clue what was going on."
"I didn't want to put you in that position," Asher says. "I know how much you care about Lucas."
"Hey," Dylan says. He gently puts his hand on Asher's knee. They lock eyes, and Dylan says, "You matter to me more than anything. That's always gonna be true - no matter what."
Asher visibly eases up. He puts his hand over Dylan's and says, "Thanks."
"I'm glad you took time to feel better," Dylan says. "And I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't tell me about this before."
"I know I can now," Asher says, smiling that lovely smile that never fails to give Dylan butterflies.
"God, you have no clue how glad I am. We're okay," Dylan says. He chuckles a bit. "I thought you wanted me to come over so you could break up with me or something."
"What?" Asher looks utterly gutted. "Did you really think I would break up with you?"
Dylan shakes his head. "No, no. It's cool. I know now. It's okay."
"No, it's not," Asher insists. He grabs Dylan's hands and looks him directly in the eyes. "I'm so sorry. I don't want you to ever feel that way again. I'd never in a million years want to break up." Asher reaches up and brushes his finger over Dylan's cheek. "You're my safe space."
Dylan tears up again - but for a completely different reason this time. He spent days questioning where he and Asher stood. Now he knows without a doubt that their relationship is unbreakable. They're meant to be together, and they can get through any bumps in the road as long as they have each other.
And they always will.
Dylan leans forward and embraces Asher in a tight hug. Asher hugs him back, and God, he has never felt more love in his heart than in that moment. To anyone else, it looked like a normal hug, but Asher and Dylan knew what it really was. A reunion. A happy ending. A promise that they would always come back to each other. And that's all Dylan needs.