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winchester90210 · 5 years ago

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The BH 90210 Rewrite. 1x09: The Gentle Art of Listening.

Rewrite Masterlist

Read the previous chapter here!

My work is not to be reposted and/or edited without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging is fine and encouraged!!)

Chapter Summary: Who the hell is Nina?

Warnings: Mentions of sex, jealousy, swearing.

Word count: 2,200

A/N: I did skip 1x08 due to there not being a ton to do with it, and if I did write it, it would have been reeeaally short haha. But that means there’s a bonus chapter of some kind coming soon! Next week we’re tackling 1x10: Isn’t It Romantic? which means the start of Dylan and Brenda!

Feedback is incredibly appreciated!

Crowds of people gathered around the schoolyard, hip-hop music booming and people cheering as the cheerleaders carried on their routine.

“Brandon, did you sign up for Battle of the Beverlies?” Steve taps his friend on the shoulder as he walks up, sun beaming brightly onto them both. His blonde curls were firm in their place, thanks to the substantial amount of hairspray he applied this morning.

“I would have, but since I work nights it’s difficult. What about you?” Brandon’s dirty blonde hair blew in his face, making him crinkle his nose.

“I’m in the uh, coed tug of war,” He smirks.

“Well, aren’t we all?” Dylan sneaks up behind them, in his usual white tee and leather jacket.

“Hey Dylan, I didn’t think grudge week would be your kind of thing,” Brandon greets.

“Grudge week is every guy’s thing,” Dylan chuckles as Steve snickers and puts on his sunglasses.

“What? I don’t get it,”

“Well, a lot of the girls get into the uh, the spirit of the scene and try to pick up older guys,” Steve grins, “Looks like Y/N’s enjoying this tradition herself.” He nods his head over to where you are– leaning with your back against the lockers, hip jutted out, twirling your hair as you talk up some senior jock. “Brandon, I thought you locked her down already?”

“Nah, she… we… agreed to be friends,” he explained for what must have been the umpteenth time that week. Brandon stiffened as he watched you over there with him, as the guy scribbles something down on a piece of paper and hands it to you.

“Mom, this is not funny,” Brandon gripes as his mother scrubbed at the dishes. He adjusts the cap on his head and starts chopping up a tomato.

“I didn’t say it was funny, it’s adorable!” She fawns.

“Adorable? How about psychotic?” He argues.

You roll your eyes, “Brandon, she has a crush on you! It’s cute!”

“Right! You should be flattered!” Mrs. Walsh smiles.

“Flattered that a 14-year-old follows me around all day?! And, you know, the worst part of it is, if I accidentally make eye contact with her she pretends she’s looking over the rainbow or something!” You instinctively roll your eyes for the second time. Boy, he was melodramatic sometimes.

“She’s just shy, honey, that’s all. What’s her name?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care!” He sure acted tough for a guy that was helping his mommy make dinner. And he sure was cute. Even with that dumb blue backwards hat on.

“Oh, you’re such a heartbreaker!” Cindy jokes, moving to set the table.

“It’s because he can afford to be,” you quip.

“So, d'ya hear about what Brandon got up to last night with Nina?” Steve wiggles his eyebrows as you both walk through the halls together.

“Nina?” Whatever. You’re friends. And he can talk to other girls. Nothing wrong with that. You don’t care. Nina who?

“Just this incredible older woman he met at the peach pit. They spent some time after work together. Brandon was… pleased,” okay, so you care a little bit.

“And? What’s your point?” You try to hide the eagerness in your voice.

“Get this! She gave him… a foot rub,” your hand immediately comes out and smacks him hard on the shoulder.

“Don’t scare me like that! You think I care if he’s getting massages from people?” You stare at him in disbelief and he laughs, happily.

“That might not be all he’s getting from her soon Y/N/N,”

Striding down the hall with Dylan, he begins to speak.

“Y'know, Brandon was asking my advice on making it with an older woman… I’m gonna guess that he wasn’t talking about you,” He grabs your book from you as you walk to study hall in the library. Tread lightly, Y/N. Dangerous territory. Be calm. Cool. Uninterested.

“And? What’d you say?!” Dammit.

“I told him what he wanted to know,” he shrugs.

“No! Don’t do that!” You’re doing great. Super chill.

“It’s fine, the guy has no idea what he’s doing!”

“But you still encouraged him,”

“What should I have said?”

“Anything! "No” or “Stop” or “Hey! What about Y/N?! Do her!”“

"Uh-huh,” the smile on his face was amused, with a familiar yet unknown sparkle in his eye, “And you do realize that would require actually telling him how you feel, right?” You sigh.

“I just can’t believe him, y'know? He refused to sleep with Sheryl because he wasn’t in love with her, but now he’s ready to give it up to some old lady masseuse?”

“…How’d you know she was a masseuse?”

“Steve likes to update me on all things Walsh, whether I want him to or not,” you both enter the library together, quiet chatter fills the room.

You loved talking to Dylan, whenever you talked he listened. Truly listened. He absorbed every single word that fell from your mouth– carefully, intently. It was so drastically different than talking to Steve, who loved annoying you, or Kelly, who you felt was too shallow at times to have a serious conversation with (Okay, it’s not that she’s shallow, she’s great! But she doesn’t like talking about anything more complicated than the sale at Henri Bendel’s or Donna’s impending nose job.)

And… Brenda? You loved her, but you couldn’t talk to her about the raging feelings you had for her brother. And you definitely couldn’t talk to her brother about it, either. Dylan on the other hand… you got each other. As cheesy as it sounds. He could come to you with anything, and you could come to him. And it just worked. You clicked. In like, a total friend way though.

“What about the time he spent the night with you? You weren’t complaining about his pre-marital exploits then,” His eyebrows go up as you both pull out your chairs from the wooden library table.

“Dylan, we didn’t have sex! We talked and I fell asleep in his bed. Fully clothed, platonic, unproblematic,” You sigh defeatedly, resting your chin in your hand, “I haven’t been able to get myself into the peach pit for a few weeks. Because then I’d have to see him in that stupid all-white uniform, looking all… Brandon-like and I don’t know what I’d do with myself. On one hand, I’m totally cool being his friend and on the other… I’m a wreck and I’m missing out on Nat’s apple pie because of it,”

“Well, how about this? We go to the pit around 5, and if you still feel awful after Nat’s apple pie then we can retreat back to my place and watch Animal Crackers. Deal?” You pause.

“You’re on, McKay,”

You, Kelly, and Brenda lay on Brenda’s bed, with you in the middle, watching the wooden ceiling fan swirl around and around and around.

“Where do you think we’ll be in 10 years?” Kelly’s voice is quiet under the whirr of the fan. “Like, do you think we’ll be in a good place? Happy?”

“I hope so,” you mumble.

“I’m sure you’ll be in Paris or Rome, with a fashion empire and a gorgeous husband,” Brenda smiles.

Steve and Brandon hold their ears to the bathroom door that connects the two bedrooms.

“Steve, I really don’t think this is a good idea–”

“Relax, it’s a great idea. It’s the only way to hear what actually goes on in there,” Steve scoffs, “Haven’t you spied on your sister before?”

“Yeah, when I was 12. I’m 17, dude,” He scolds him in a whisper as you and the girls chatter on the other side of the door.

“Do you think we’ll be married?” Brenda rests her hands under her head, her brown hair shiny and soft under her palm.

“Oh, totally! Or at least… close to it,” You smile.

“Bren, your husband is gonna be totally cool– like a musician or a race car driver or something. And Y/N/N, your husband’s… ” Her genuine smile morphs into a mischievous smirk “Steve.” You give her an offended gasp as you all erupt into giggles.

“No amount of money in the world, Kel,” you shake your head and sit up against Brenda’s headboard.

Brandon silently cracks up at his friend’s misfortune and perfect timing, and Steve delivers a hard hit to his shoulder.

“Actually, y'know who you’ll probably marry? Brandon,” You’re drop-dead silent. Brenda notices the look you’re giving her and she continues, “No, I’m serious! You guys are like, meant for each other. You’re basically the girl version of him– just prettier, funnier, less annoying, and…actually, majorly out of his league… but still, I think you guys would totally work.”

“There’s no way, he’s too… Brandon,” you reject, “And he’s your brother. I couldn’t do that, Bren. It’d be like Kelly dating my brother!”

“Well… is he cute?” Kelly smirks, blonde hair blowing softly under the fan. “Oh! You got that senior’s number for me, right?”

“Come on, I feel weird doing this,” Brandon protests, “If I want to know something I can just ask, I don’t have to invade her privacy.”

“It’s not like we’re watching them through a window, we’re just listening,”

“Look, you stay here and be creepy, but I have to get ready for work,” He stands up with a huff, leaving his tempestuous friend to his own devices.

“So?” Dylan folds his hands as you take your last bite of pie.

“You were right,” You concede, sliding the empty mini tin away from you, “You could say this pie was the answer to world peace and I’d believe you.”

“Want one more?”

“Ah, no I couldn’t. I should probably get going,”

“Crazy, have one more! On the house!”

“Really, I couldn’t,” you insist. Dylan holds up a finger and mouths “One more” and Nat is off into the kitchen.

“The secret is the sour cream,” Nat smiles, small pie in hand.

You look to Dylan, then to Nat. Why are they forcing pie onto you?

“Look, if it’s too much we can share it,” Dylan shrugs. You hand him a fork and leave yours on the counter.

“Brandon should be here soon if you want to stay a minute, I’m sure the kid would be happy to see you, you know… considering,”

“Considering?” You sip from your glass.

“Considering,” he winks, and in one swift motion he’s gone with your empty dish. Okay, you were sure of it. This entire town was on drugs.

Not even 5 minutes later, Brandon comes in through the back, all-white clothes adorning his figure. Heart be still.

“Oh, hey!” He smiles brightly, the scent of his cologne immediately apparent. (When did he start wearing cologne?)

“Oh, hi,” you take one last sip of your water, “I was actually just on my way out.”

“You haven’t even touched your pie yet! You love my pie!” Nat interjects.

“You sit and eat, I’ll be right back,” Dylan’s off into the bathroom and Nat’s disappeared suddenly into one of the booths.

Those bastards.

“So, what’s been going on, Y/N/N?”

“You saw me yesterday, not a ton,” you shrug and stick your fork in your pie, “Hung out with Brenda and Kelly, took a biology test, bought street drugs off some guy in a van,”

He chuckles brightly, “Productive day, huh?” He leans down, propping himself onto the brightly colored counter with his elbows.

“Oh yeah, this might be my favorite part though,” you barely nod as your eyes meet.

“Mine too,” He smiles bashfully, that twinkle in his eye going strong.

“Uh, the– the pie, obviously,”

“Oh yeah, no, the pie’s fantastic,” He grins, “do you want some ice cream with that?”

“Yeah, why not?”

The regular hustle and bustle of the hallways was a-go as Steve and Brandon trailed down them.

“Hey Brandon, whatever happened to that older chick that was coming onto you?”

“Oh, we’re just good friends,” He shrugs.

“Face it, you blew it!” Steve shakes his head as he speaks,

“Nothing was blown,” Brandon argued, “I decided against it and called it off.”

“You know what your problem is? You’re hung up on this age thing. What you need is a girl your own age! Someone spunky… annoying… hot, maybe midwestern!” Although those wouldn’t necessarily be Brandon’s choice of adjectives, he knew what his friend was getting to.

“Steve–”

“No, Brandon. I’m sick of you bitching and moaning about this girl, and I’m sick of her bitching about you. Look, I mean this in the friendliest way possible– it’s annoying and you’re both pathetic,”

Brandon’s brows furrow together, “Gee, thanks,”

“No, look, what I’m saying is… Instead of moaning apart… moan… together,” Steve’s eyebrows bounce up and down as he finishes his sentence, paired with his signature Cheshire grin. How long had he been preparing that line for?

“Y'know, that’s very insightful, but I think I’ve got it covered,” Brandon laughs, “But seriously, never give me relationship advice ever again.”

Taglist: @be-patient-be-good @mpmarypoppins @bevelyhills90210 @blueoz @harleylilo88 @princess-ghost-alien @hueycat2004

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