<div class="floatleft">(https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/7MKIpgPqCAoq_4P5ERiPHEx8qrtU9XlBcunHVwdL8ykGNkB_hPPnM8MW6HcPOEXWMvm-7F3MGnAd5wZFS9zH31V4iBwcekRLlXTX-b8jp6FD2wozPIjEelEXIr8FXzs5wza7rsDlng=w2400)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Name:</strong> Dylan McDowell<br/><strong>Location:</strong> On the way and entering the lion's den<br/><strong>Time:</strong> Slightly late<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong> white suit, black wolf </span><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">mask</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/mcVZQhQBvTI5fOpSvQSRtGKqVBTqMiIr6QmSnWJSh2BN8wsQVPn7bPjqT1NgT_6Irx75bJG--s69TiJUnDn2Gs8jrlpfjBoOtoL2dLGBVFyTwe5FDOyJwxOFDwoe00PxVLeL2D1e0g=w2400)</div></div><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open, mentions of Mia Romero, Remy Rousseau<br/><strong>Notes:</strong><em>I'm not as good as I once was, but I'm as good once as I ever was...</em><br/><hr/><br/><br/><br/><br/>five years ago, he would have been the first one through the door.  Ten years ago, he would have been a party favor.  Now, Dylan was running so late that it might be fair to consider he was subconsciously sabotaging himself yet again.  He wasn't even sure if he should be at this party.  His social presence hadn't been strong since his last successful stint in rehab three years ago even though he had begun to make a name for himself all over again, only now behind the camera lens.  There was a day when he would eat up this sort of nightlife or, closer to the truth, it would swallow him whole.  Now that he had been spit out the other side, he wondered if he could truly ever fit in again.<br/><br/>All such doubt now had to be squashed, however, as he had received a golden ticket to what most in the know knew to be an adult candyland.  No one in their right mind would dare turn down an invitation to the Romero masquerade ball and all the wonders that entailed.  He thought he remembered Mia from years past though most of his youthful memories were bits and pieces and clouded by chemicals.  Still, she, and her daughter as well, were far too gorgeous for anyone to turn down and so here he was in the back of an Uber racing toward the Romero mansion.  As Dylan rested his head against the backseat for a moment, he hoped no one remembered his youthful days of cocaine fueled nonsense.  In those days, there was very little off limits or taboo as extreme pleasure was shared and reputations were soiled, though Dylan swears to this very day that that was not his donkey and he didn't even know that girl.  Yes, it would likely be best that he not run into any of the old crowd.<br/><br/>As his eyes slightly closed, he began to get that familiar feeling of being watched.  That sense was something he had grown far less accustomed to these days so those blues flew open to meet the gaze of the Uber driver in the rear view mirror.  It was quite apparent the man was studying Dylan, searching his own memory as he peered back at his passenger.  Several awkward moments passed before the driver got the nerve to inquire.<br/><br/><strong>Haven't I seen you somewhere before, you do look so familiar...</strong>Dylan felt a bit of pride swelling as he had at one time appeared in nearly every popular magazine of the era and felt flattered someone still remembered.  A few years out of the business may have well as been a few decades as old faces were replaced by newer, younger types.<br/><br/><strong>Well, I have had my picture in a few magazines over the years...</strong>Dylan's heart sank as the driver's head shook hoping he wasn't referring to those few b grade horror films he appeared in or, worse, his mug shot the time he was arrested by customs officials in Canada.<br/><br/><strong>No, weren't you on Remy Rousseau's show, yeah you were, I remember now, she is one fine piece of...well, I mean, I'd love to have her investigate my privates... </strong>Dylan actually winced at the man's attempted joke having never heard that sentiment put in quite such a classless manner.  Remy was a devastating combination of beauty and brains to his recollection and deserved better.  Better than this man's words and better than the man Dylan had been when he worked for her.  Before he could dwell on that further, the driver continued lewdly.<br/><br/><strong>Did you and her ever, you know...C'mon, it's just us guys, you can tell me...</strong>Dylan rolled his eyes as he was sure he'd never wish to tell the big goof the time of day let alone anything personal.  As he was about to tell the man exactly that, his cell phone began to ring.  He distracted himself by seeing that it was Robin, his personal assistant, calling and thought it better to answer than to continue this conversation.<br/><br/><strong><em>Hey Robin...yeah, I know you wanted to come, but I explained...yes, this is a highly exclusive event...no, that's not an insult...listen, I'm not even sure about tonight myself, if things aren't going well maybe we could...no, it's not a booty call...hello??</em></strong>Dylan glared at his phone, the audacity of her to hang up on him.  She was far more a country girl and just wouldn't fit in at a party like this even if he did wonder just what she might look like in a little black dress.  She never really cared for that explanation but it made sense to him all the same.  Dylan caught a fleeting smirk from his driver as they arrived at the mansion, the man seemingly incapable of keeping his thoughts to himself.<br/><br/><strong>You rich types are all alike, a bunch of trust fund babies and thieves.  Alex Jones says...</strong>Dylan exited the vehicle mid-sentence, taking little interest in hearing any more.  Dylan had enough on his own plate to worry about the ramblings of a fool.  He took a moment to smooth the wrinkles of his suit with his left hand before raising his black wolf mask with his right.  He paused just within the doorway to take a long deep breath and survey all that lay within sight.  He couldn't help having one of Robin's annoying country songs start playing in his mind as he thought<em>I'm not as good as I once was, but I'm as good once as I ever was</em>