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#18 Dylan O'Brien - The One That Got Away

Y/n POV
To be saying what I'm about to do is crazy, is an understatement. I surprised myself with the thought of going out of my way to even attempt what I'm about to do.

And, what exactly is that?

I'm about to have a very long and overdue chat with my ex best friend, Dylan O'Brien.

Well, I wouldn't really say ex because we never really had a falling out, we just kind of drifted away from each other. He got busy with his life, and I got busy with mine. However, today, I figured it was time to address the elephant in the room as I stand here, waiting to get an 'autograph' from him and the rest of the cast of Death Cure.

As I reach over to Dylan after waiting for what felt like a lifetime, my nerves got the best of me and it felt like I was on the edge of a panic or anxiety attack. Hell, it was clearly noticeable that even Dylan seemed concerned.

"Are you okay?" he asked after I handed him a poster for him to sign.

"No, I am beyond okay," I admitted. I didn't want to but, a downside to anxiety, for me, is I just start saying shit with no filter intact. "I mean, what compelled me to come here? I mean, I took off work for this. I mean, do you even recognize me?"

"You are going to have to get more specific because I see thousands of people at events like these," he explained.

"Right, yeah, I should have figured that."

I was a bit hurt over the fact he didn't seem to recognize me, but my mind already gave me this possible scenario with how this was going to go.

"It was the summer right before you left to be in Teen Wolf," he wanted specific, he's going to get specific. "You uhh... you came over to my house to give me the news that you managed to get your break with the show, and we decided to celebrate. You, later, told me that you would be leaving really soon, followed with promising me you would stay in touch with me. You stayed in touch for probably a little over a year before I stopped hearing from you. Luckily, I wasn't too affected by it because I was focused on my career, but I always felt this odd emptiness that held me back from certain things. I believe part of it has to do with how we left things with each other since there was no warning, no explanation, nothing whatsoever, and I guess a part of me hoped that you felt the same."

There was a small pause before Dylan put all the pieces together.

"Well, this sounds like a conversation that should be continued another time," he informs. "Why don't you wait until Comic-Con is over and everyone leaves, and then we'll talk then?"

"Yeah, that works. I, um.. am holding up the line anyway, so...," I nervously laugh. "I'll get going, then."

Now, I have the next couple of hours to calm down my nerves before I go ballistic and, my version of calming down, was the constant shaking of the leg, continuously picking at my nails, and the continuous motion of pushing my hair out of my face.

Then, finally, after hours of waiting and sitting on this bench, it seems that I'm the last one in the building. I don't know where the cast went, but I'm sure they are around here somewhere. Well, unless they left, that is. And then that would mean Dylan never cared to meet up, and he just wanted me out of his hair. I mean, I did bring up a very personal memory that might have strike a nerve. However, maybe he purposely left things the way they were between us because he did not want me in his life anymore. Maybe, he turned into one of those celebrity dickbags that does not hang out with anyone below his status and rank. Maybe-

"Overthinking about life, I see," I hear Dylan's voice say. Immediately, I lifted my head towards the direction he was in, only to be met with his honey-brown eyes staring down at me. "Trust me when I say, I tried to get to you as soon as I could."

"Yeah, well, lay it on thick to end my suffering please," I said to speed things along.

"Okay," he agreed with. "It was the summer right before I left to be in Teen Wolf. There was this girl I couldn't wait to tell, so I decided to surprise her at her front door with the exciting news. After that day, I promised her I would stay in touch but, when my career started taking off and this became long term, I slowly lost that connection no matter how hard I tried. I tried so hard and it continuously broke my heart seeing the number of times she tried calling me, and would leave me voicemails until, one day, they just stopped. Years go by, and I, eventually, got a new phone with a new number. I didn't think of it then, but, later, I realized that she didn't have my new number and I had no idea how to get it to her. I lost any connection we had, so I had to accept the fact that there was no way we would find each other again and make ends meet. Yet, here we are now, and my dumbass didn't even recognize her."

"So, you're not a dickhead," I blurted out without thinking. "Shit, sorry."

"Wow, y/n, didn't think you thought that lowly of me. I guess pouring my heart out wasn't enough."

He starts to wipe his eyes with the back of his hands.

"Have you been crying?" I questioned.

"No," he answers with. "I don't know what you're talking about. I mean, it's not like I've been crying all day knowing that you took off work today to come see me, just so you could specifically call me out and see if we were on good terms, only for me to tell you that this is by far the best thing to ever happen to me."

He was happy to see me?

Truth be told, I was happy to see him, too,—of course, I was happy to see him—but I was so clouded by anxiety and doubt that it never really hit me until now. The fact that he is genuinely happy to see me again, melted away all that negativity about showing up here. It was almost as if we never lost that connection because I took the initiative to stand up on the bench, and wrap my arms around his neck in the tightest hug I could possibly give. Upon instinct, Dylan hugged me back.

"I'm still surprised no one kicked me out, yet," I said after awhile.

"That's because I told security you were a friend waiting for me to finish up," he explained.

"And they didn't bother to question it?" I asked, pulling away from the hug.

"Of course, they didn't question me. Why would they question me?"

"True, but what about the others? They would, for sure, question you."

"You mean my cast mates?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, they already knew about you back whenever we filmed the first movie. I had a tendency to bring you up in many conversations. Hell, even in interviews I would bring you up. It came to a point where everyone started labeling you as 'The One That Got Away.' I'm surprised you didn't hear any of this online."

"I may have watched all of your movies and shows, but I wasn't much of a fan to literally stalk you and see what you were up to. Plus, I still have a life of my own, so there's that."

"So, I guess that means you weren't aware of my accident on set, or of the girlfriend, well, ex girlfriend, who cheated on me, or the fact they both happened in the span of a couple months this past year."

I looked at him, dumbfounded. "No, I have not."

"Also, why didn't you do this sooner?" Dylan wonders.

"Honestly, I never really felt I had the time to. I was so caught up with work that I never really stopped and considered doing something like this, until now."

"Right, well, come on. Let's get out of here and do something together."

"Okay, but, are you okay? Like, it seems you've been going through literal Hell, recently."

"Honestly, today is the first day I actually feel genuinely happy for a change."

I looked at him with sympathy in my eyes. "Have you even tried talking to someone about it?"

Hearing that question, made him avert his gaze on me.

"The only person I could really talk to about shit, is currently standing in front of me," he admitted.

Wow.

All these years, and he still would come to me for comfort.

All these years, and he still would choose me over most people.