It just was not his day. It had all started the day before when one of the team's star pitchers had injured his elbow and would inevitably need Tommy John surgery. This wasn't uncommon in pitchers, there were always guys from the majors or the minors having it done and you always hoped that it went well. It was the type of thing that could end a career, something Dylan knew all about as it had ended his father's career before it every really began. What was uncommon was for the name Dylan Triani and the word trade to be mentioned in the same breath. Dylan's career in Anaheim was impressive and he was considered a highly valuable asset to the team. Which is exactly why trading him when the team was in a very weak and vulnerable position was being talked about. His phone had been blowing up with texts, phone calls, and notifications from every social media platform possible. It was all so overwhelming, especially since up until now he had felt safe and secure in his position with the organization. On more than one occasion it had been mentioned how much they would love to be able to have him retire as only ever having played for the Angels, and yet here he was, fielding inquiries and obsessing over every article sent to him. They all said either one of two things, why trading him made sense and was necessary or why trading him would be the biggest mistake the front office had ever made.

The worst part was the timing, his entire family was in town and they were all playing their parts. His youngest sister Laurel was doing everything she could to distract him and deflect any negative energy, while his sister Jordan insisted on trying to point out the bright side to each possible scenario. Sasha and Raquel were silent, each only chiming in to agree with their parent of choice from time to time. His mother shot down each scenario, offering up sound reasoning with each rebuttal. His father was of course making sure that he knew that it was his fault, telling him that he must not have been focused or dedicated enough this season. He listened to it for hours Saturday until he had to leave for the game and as much as he wished it didn't, it all just repeated over and over in his mind. To add insult to injury, the team lost and the girl he had been interested in broke things off with him.

Relationships had never been his forte and he was trying, not just because he thought he should, but because he wanted to. It just wasn't enough, it never was. He was always fighting to find a balance and it never came. Home was the last place he wanted to be and in typical Dylan fashion, he fueled up the car, grabbed a Big Gulp, and started driving without a destination in mind. He needed to think, the clear his head, to just be alone for a little while, even though he was alone the majority of the time. He paid no attention to the music that was drifting through the air around him, to the minutes that passed by, or to the roads he took, but after a while he found himself standing on the Santa Monica pier at two in the morning. He watched the waves roll in and out, silently letting each outgoing wave take one of his problems or hangs ups away with it.

When he got back in the car and drove home the trade rumors no longer concerned him. It wasn't the worst thing that could happen and he was certain that he would be able to adapt to a new team and city should it happen. He wasn't upset that things hadn't worked out for him romantically or that he hadn't found a balance yet, he knew that he had been working on it, more than he ever had in the past. There were plenty of ways for him to find a date and as long as he kept on working at it, things would eventually work out. As for his family, they were only doing what they knew how to do in times like these and he was grateful that they cared enough to even bother. It was nearly four am when he finally pulled into the driveway, right around the time he woke up most days. Dylan didn't even consider going to bed for a little while, instead he changed his clothes and quietly made his way into his home gym where he would spend the next hour before showering and making his way back downstairs.

He had expected to be the only one awake for a few hours longer, but he wasn't at all surprised to see all four of his sisters in the kitchen with their own cups of coffee. The five Triani children sat around the kitchen table and reminisced before they began their tradition of making a Mother's Day breakfast. Each one of them had a specific duty, as they always had, and each played a vital role in preparing the traditional meal. Looking around him as he whipped up his famous blueberry pancakes, Dylan looked around him and felt blessed and fortunate beyond belief. Soon his parents joined their kids downstairs and the family sat down for breakfast. There was no talk of baseball or trades, instead they talked about the years gone by and their favorite moments with each other. It was exactly what he needed to center him.