Who Dylan Davenport and Michelle Jenkins (NPC) What Something Dylan should have seen coming When Sunday afternoon, June 19 Where Their shared apartment Status Completed solo Rating Low/Medium Notes Long solo is long. If you read it all, you get a cookie.
Sunday in the Davenport-Jenkins household was rolling along at a comfortable pace, as it was. It was just after noon and the apartment was almost quiet apart from the music playing on low volume throughout the rooms, provided by the sound system. Michelle Jenkins was on the double bed, curled up with a crime novel that was not too far removed from the current events that had the police force so tangled up. Michelle knew what had been told in the media, but she had a bit of insight in how hard the police were working due to her boyfriend being on the case. Dylan hadn’t told her anything she hadn’t already read or heard, but she knew he wasn’t allowed to and didn’t really expect it. They’d been together for five years and she’d met him at the end of his Army career, when he’d been demoted to Corporal and was still determined to try and advance again. She knew he took his job seriously, whether in the Army or on the police force. Dylan’s loyalty and happiness was what had attracted her to him in the first place and still did – the only difference was that they hadn’t been very happy lately.
It had started before the evo murders, when Dylan had gotten progressively more swamped with work, but Michelle couldn’t pinpoint exactly when or indeed why. Something just didn’t seem to fit and she’d be damned of she knew what. They hadn’t really sat down to talk about it – either Dylan had been busy, or there hadn’t been enough time, or someone was tired, or it wasn’t a good time... Michelle hadn’t been keen on analysing any underlying reasons for these excuses. She wasn’t in the mood today either, as her concentration was fully on the book she was reading. She likely wasn’t the only person reading it at that point in time, as it had been noticed how similar the book’s plot was with the murders going on and the word had spread fast.
Dylan stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and using a second one to dry his hair. It had been a lazy morning over all and Michelle hadn’t been very social, so he’d decided to go for a run, which had subsequently put him in the shower. Hair somewhat dry, Dylan moved over to the mirror and ran a hand over his chin and cheeks, coming to the conclusion that a shave could wait. Still dressed in the towel, he left the bathroom and went to see if his girlfriend had moved at all since he left about an hour ago. Finding her on the bed in much the same position he’d last seen her, Dylan smiled to himself as he entered the room. Moving over to the bed and sitting down, he looked over at Michelle with a look of mild expectancy on his face. When she seemed determined not to acknowledge him, Dylan eased himself onto the bed and reached out to lightly scratch the woman’s arm with one finger. This caught her attention – or maybe was invasive enough that the decided to pay attention to him – and she lowered the book to look at him.
“Hi,” he said simply, smile on his lips.
Michelle snorted softly. “Hello, Dylan.”
“I take it the book is good.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yeah, quite.”
Moving a little closer, Dylan pushed Michelle’s hair out of the way to place a kiss on her ear. At this she cringed away ever so slightly, but enough for him to notice.
“Your hair is wet,” she said, raising the book again and taking her eyes off him.
“It’s not wet, I just dried it. It’s damp, if anything.”
“Well, don’t get me wet,” Michelle said, shifting her pose from lying propped up on her side to sitting up, leaned against the headboard. Dylan sat up as well, hand on the mattress behind him to steady himself, feeling the all-too-familiar feeling of annoyance creeping up on him. He picked at the edge of the towel as they sat in silence for a short while, the feeling growing with each passing minute. As Michelle turned a page in the book, Dylan looked over at her, his body turning so that he was facing her. No reaction.
“Chelle, what’s the matter?”
As if he’d brought up the most tedious question in the world, Michelle rolled her eyes and let the book come down to rest next to her on the mattress, an index finger keeping track of which page she was on. “Nothing,” she sighed. “Why do you think something’s the matter?”
“Because,” Dylan said and raised his eyebrows, “you seem constantly angry with me. I can’t even touch you without you moving away.”
The blonde sighed. “I’m having a bad day, okay?”
“You’ve had a bad day for the last few weeks,” Dylan pointed out. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. It was even before I forgot our anniversary, so don’t blame that,” he added as his girlfriend opened her mouth to reply.
After pursing her lips, Michelle narrowed his eyes at him. “I wasn’t going to.”
Shifting on the bed, Dylan secured the towel around his waist better. “Just tell me what’s bothering you. I don’t like this any more than you do, but there has to be something we can do?”
Crossing her arms over her chest, still holding onto the book, Michelle looked across the room. “I don’t know, I just don’t...” She glanced over at him and suddenly frowned. “Put some clothes on, would you?”
The request surprised Dylan and he looked down on himself. “What?” he asked as he looked back up. “Is there something wrong with me all of a sudden?”
“Just get some clothes on, Dylan,” Michelle sighed as she slid off the opposite side of the bed, abandoning the book on the cover as she left the room. Dylan watched her go, allowing her to get out of sight before he got to his feet. Going over to the wardrobe, be pulled on a simple grey t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants before following in his girlfriend’s footsteps and leaving the bedroom. He found her in the kitchen, in the process of taking a can of Coke out of the fridge.
“Chelle, seriously. Tell me what’s wrong.”
He could see that her shoulders were tense. “Nothing’s wrong, Dylan. I just don’t think...” She paused and Dylan thought she was searching for the right words, but then a suspicious frown came to her face. “Amy’s not here, is she?”
“Amy?” Dylan’s brow furrowed. “No, she’s at home, what... what’s she got to do with anything?”
“I can’t stand her sneaking around and hiding and poking her nose in places where it doesn’t belong.” Michelle cracked open the Coke bottle and took a sip.
“Hey, leave her out of this.” Dylan knew Michelle wasn’t a big fan of Amy much because of his little sister being an evo, but he failed to see how that was relevant in this case.
“She’s the one sneaking around all invisible and eavesdropping..!”
Dylan came up to the counter where his girlfriend stood, his frown deepening. “Look, I don’t think Amy’s responsible for your bad mood, so leave her out of this. Tell me what’s wrong.”
As he reached to put a hand on her shoulder, Michelle’s free hand came up to bat it away. “Don’t touch me.”
Dylan was confused, to say the least. But okay, no touching. Retreating his hand, he put it flat down against the countertop and instead just waited for his girlfriend to start talking. Michelle took another sip of her drink, looking at a point somewhere just to the left of him. The longer the silence dragged on, the more restless and worried Dylan grew and he had to keep his fingers from tapping against the surface they were resting on. When Michelle put the Coke down and gave a sigh, it was all he could do to keep himself from asking what was wrong once more.
When she finally looked up at him, the regretful look in her eyes surprised him. “Dylan, I’m breaking up with you.”
If Dylan had felt like the past week had been a mess of teenage feelings, it was nothing compared to what he felt at that point. “Breaking up with me?”
Michelle nodded, reaching for her drink again.
“Why?”
The woman gave a snort. “Why does anyone break up?” She caught his eyes again, briefly as she spoke. “You’re a great guy, Dylan. I just don’t love you anymore.”
It took Dylan a few moments to process these words. “...What changed?”
Michelle shrugged. “I suppose I did.”
Dylan gave an unamused chuckle. “Oh, don’t say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ because that’s bullshit.” One of his hands came up to run through his still damp hair, pushing it out of his face.
“Well, that’s the way it is.” Michelle’s tone got shorter and she moved away from the counter.
“Hey, don’t walk away. Chelle, don’t just walk away.” Dylan wasn’t late to follow her into the living room where they came to stand at opposite ends of the coffee table they had picked out together. “Is this because I’ve been working a lot? I can’t do much about that, you know that.”
Michelle shook her head. “Dylan, listen to me. I just don’t love you anymore, it’s that simple. I had feelings for you for almost five years and now I don’t.” She shrugged. “People change their minds.” None of what she said satisfied Dylan’s confused mind in the least. It was probably written on his face, because she gave him a soft smile and continued. “You’re a great guy, really. You’re honest and happy and dedicated. A really good guy.”
“So why have you decided that you’re not in love all of a sudden?” This was what confused Dylan the most – she said he was a good guy and yet that apparently wasn’t enough.
“It’s not sudden. You said it yourself, you’ve noticed it for ages.”
“Does it matter that I love you?”
Michelle averted her eyes to the tabletop and the remote control lying there. “No Dylan, it doesn’t.”
“So what, that’s five years wasted?”
“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous.” Then a frown creased her forehead and she looked up at him again. “What, do you think they’ve been a waste?”
Now it was Dylan’s turn to shake his head. “I didn’t say that. Of course they haven’t – I’m not the one breaking up.”
Whether it was pent-up tension or something else, this little misuse of words seemed to have pressed a button with Michelle. “Says the guy who forgot our five-year anniversary.”
“Michelle.” Dylan was not in the mood to rehash that particular happening.
“Don’t Michelle me..!” she snapped, quickly becoming animated. “You forgot!”
“I’ve said sorry a thousand times, don’t fucking drag that up now.”
Michelle planted her hands firmly on her hips, lips pursed. “I’ll drag that up whenever I want to. How hard can it be to remember a date like that?”
“You know how busy work is!”
“And I’m not important enough to remember, am I?”
In retrospect, Dylan wasn’t quite sure how the rest of the argument had gone, but there had been a fair amount of shouting and several irrational accusations involved – from both parties. In the end, Michelle had left with a hastily packed bag and left Dylan alone in their up until now shared apartment. Staring at the door that had just been slammed shut, Dylan then turned around and returned to the kitchen, opening the fridge and reaching for a bottle of beer. He chipped the bottle cap off against the edge of the kitchen counter, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a big sip. Coming to stand leaned against the fridge, he stared at nothing as he tried to assemble his thoughts and think of what to do next. With a firm grip on his beer, he went into the living room, aiming for the balcony.
The fact that Michelle had broken up with him didn’t really hit him until a couple of hours later. Sat in front of the TV, leaned back in the couch, the realisation that she wasn’t going to come back anytime soon caused him to loose focus of what he was watching.
About an hour and a total of three beers later, he went to get a phone and call John Martin.