Parallels | Dylan O'Brien

30 - Confessions

Los Angeles 
-Lydia Moon-

I wake up next to him a few hours later. Our limbs are tangled together, our hot, sweaty, naked bodies pressed against one another. I wish I could wake up like this every morning. But I guess that's not going to happen. By tomorrow morning, I'll be gone. I'll be back in my universe, in New York with my mother, my abusive stepdad, my best friends, ... I'll be back where I belong. Although, right now, this is where I belong: in Dylan's arms with his hot breath tickling my neck. I'm going to miss him and his endless efforts to make me feel at home. I'm going to miss Holland and Shelley, and how they looked out for me whenever Dylan was working. I'll miss Posey and Sprayberry. And I'll miss Thomas Brodie Sangster. I still got no clue how I'm going to bring it to Dylan. I don't know how he'll react, or what he'll say. All I know is, that I have to tell him. I just have to figure out the when and how.
"Penny for your thoughts," Dylan's groggy voice makes me jump out of my train of thoughts. I can't tell him. Not yet. Not now.
"I was just thinking how today's the first full moon since I got here," he sighs deeply, snuggling closer towards me and putting his head on my shoulder.
"Yeah, I know. I can't believe how quick it's gone," and how much has happened in one month, I think it, but I don't say it. A lot has happened since I got here. I opened up more to all of these people than I did back home, I finally understand what love means and I had sex with my boyfriend's best friend before having sex with my actual boyfriend. I also still don't know if we're actually labelling ourselves that, but I am. I consider him my boyfriend. My first real boyfriend. My first real love.
"Hey, are you hungry?" I then ask him, wanting to change the subject. I don't want to talk about it or think about it.
"No, I just want to cuddle," he mumbles against my bare shoulder, sending vibrations throughout my whole body. I shiver a little, then sigh deeply. This boy. How am I ever going to be able to live without him? I mean, of course the other Dylan will be there, but it won't be the same. It'll be far from the same. This Dylan is confident, gentle and kind. The other is far from confident, which made it hard to notice him, really. I need someone who's confident enough to boost up my own confidence.
My hand finds its way towards his hair and my fingers start twirling locks around them. I wish we could stay like this forever. Someone has to just freeze this moment a little bit longer, make every sensation just that bit stronger.
"I'm kind of hungry though, Dyl," I whisper to him, making him chuckle a little. It's a sleepy chuckle, he's definitely on his way to falling asleep again.
"Fine, let's get up then," he mumbles, and stays put for only five more seconds before getting up and putting on his boxers and pants I threw somewhere in the room just a couple of hours ago. I grab my own underwear and a clean shirt of his from his closet. The two of us walk through the living room and into the kitchen where we prepare some lunch. Late lunch. Because when I look at the clock, I can see it's already four pm. We've wasted so much time of my last day.
"How's your week been?" I ask him when we sit down at the table to eat.
"Exhausting," he starts, looking me straight in the eyes as if it's the last thing he'll do, "We've done so many takes of the same scene, especially the stunt scenes. They had to be perfect, but something always went wrong," he explains to me and I look at him. There are bags underneath his eyes, telling me he's so exhausted, he can't put it into words. He talks about his weeks, telling stories about scenes and funny things that happened between and during scenes. He talks about things Michael Keaton has said to him, things that other castmates have done. I zone out, and I wish I hadn't. Thomas' face pops into my mind, telling me to tell him about what had happened. Telling him about cheating on him, even though I wasn't certain about our exclusivity. Dropping a bomb on him.
"How was your week?" he then asks me, as he takes a bite from his sandwich. I take a deep breath. Take it slow, Lydia. Take it slow. Don't drop the bomb straight away.
"Moped around because you weren't here, then Shelley and Holland took me to a partywhereIhadsexwithThomas and then had the big event," I say the crucial part in one breath, treating it like it's one word and hoping he hasn't heard it. But he stops in his tracks, sandwich hovering mid-air, on its way to his mouth.
"Sorry?" he then asks, blinking his eyes rapidly. I'm not sure if he heard it perfectly, but just needs to hear it again, or if he really hasn't heard it and is just confused at what I just told him. I inhale deeply.
"I slept with Thomas," I bring out carefully, voice soft, eyes averted from his.
"What?" his voice is soft too, on the verge of breaking. Hearing his voice break, breaks my heart and makes me wish I hadn't said anything at all.
"I-... we were really drunk, and I missed you, and he just happened to be there..." I tell him, tears brimming in my eyes, "I'm sorry, Dylan, I really didn't mean for it to happen, I-..." I want to continue rambling on about how sorry I am, but he stops me.
"I can't believe you would do that," he says in a whisper as he gets up and walks into the living room. I follow him and watch him pace the floor with his hands in his hair, where my hands used to be only a few minutes ago. How can something change so quickly?
"I'm sorry, Dylan," I whisper, but I'm not sure he hears me.
"You know what? I thought you had actually changed from the first day you got here," he yells now, veins popping in his neck. "I thought I had actually broken the walls around that cold heart of yours, but I guess you just haven't changed one bit, have you? You're still the same cold-hearted, narcissistic bitch I met the first day." I feel hot tears roll down my cheeks.
"No, Dylan, I have changed. You changed me," I try, but to no avail.
"If you had changed, you wouldn't have gone and fucked my best friend, Lydia! What were you thinking? 'Oh, I'll take his best friend, that'll hurt him! Yeah, that'll hurt him bad!'" his voice bounces off the walls, echoing in my brain, hurting twice as bad.
"Dylan, please, stop," I cry, my hands shaking and my legs weak.
"Why, Lydia? Why should I stop?" he storms up to me, making me back off in fear until I hit the wall and he's hovering over me, "Because you didn't seem to stop! If I actually meant anything to you rather than a sensational fuck, you wouldn't have gone off and fucked my best friend. You would've stopped, and you would've seen that what you were doing would actually hurt me!" he shouts in my face, frightening me to my core. I shut my eyes, preparing more tears to fall. "I need you out in an hour," he suddenly sounds a lot less angry, almost calmed down even. And when I open my eyes, I can just see him walk out of the door. He doesn't even look back, not once. Some parts in me wished I hadn't said anything. Maybe then he'd still be here. Maybe then he would've kissed me and held me. But I did. I told him, and I hurt him. I hurt him the night I decided to have sex with Thomas. The night I decided to cheat on Dylan. The night I didn't stop Thomas, nor myself from doing what we did. I hurt him so bad that I lost him before I even left.

-Dylan O'Brien-

I jog out to the street and keep on running. I don't stop, and I don't look back. Nothing's going to make me go back there. Not even the amazing memories I made with the girl I left. All those memories just feel like one big lie now. How could I let myself think that she's changed, that I had changed her? I'm so stupid to think I could have such a big impact on someone's life. I'm such a loser. I should've stayed on set instead of coming back for her. I should've left her in San Diego at Comic-Con and hope she'd survive in a whole different universe. Trust is something fragile. You put all of it in one person, sometimes it takes you days, weeks, even months or years to do that, but then within a split second, they break that trust like it's nothing. I slow down to a walk and try to catch my breath. Maybe try and catch my racing mind too.
"Do you need a ride?" someone's voice startles me. I turn my head and meet Holland Roden's hazel eyes and kind smile. She's in her car, driving the opposite direction I'm going in. Without really answering her question, I cross the road and get into her car. She doesn't go straight to my flat, which I'm grateful for, but instead drives to our favorite coffee spot.
"May I ask you why you are running around the streets, looking like you're about to kill someone?" she asks when we sit down near the window at the coffee shop.
"Lydia told me she had sex with Thomas and I kind of lost it," I explain to her, but stop talking when the barista places our previously ordered coffees in front of us. I take a deep breath, inhaling the delicious smell of the coffee. "I thought she had changed, Holls. I thought she actually became a really nice and kind person who didn't only think about herself. I thought I had changed her," I say my thoughts out loud, and for once, it feels relieving rather than terrifying.
"You have, Dylan," Holland tells me, putting her hand over mine. "She had one slip up at the party, but that girl couldn't be more into you. You've seen how she's grown, with the photography and the event managing things. I've seen her open up towards you like I've never seen anyone open up," her words shackle into my brain, "She's changed so much, Dylan. Thanks to you. But the thing with Thomas... I'm not saying alcohol is a valuable reason to cheat on someone, but I don't think you should hold it against her either. I don't think you should use it as a reason to let her go. It won't make it any easier to let her leave tonight either." I process her words for a second. Hearing this from her, makes me feel a little less crazy for thinking I changed something inside Lydia.
"I didn't mean to make it easier to let her go. Nothing is going to make that easier," I say and take a sip from my coffee. Holland smiles at me and lets go of my hand. I'm glad I have her to talk to about this stuff. Since Teen Wolf, she's been one of my main girls, one of my best friends. Kind of like my sister. The perfect substitute for my actual sister, who's still in New York.
Holland and I continue our conversation about our jobs and life in general until we decide to go home again. She drops me of at my flat, but before I get out of the car, she asks me a question I hadn't thought about just yet.
"Will you be there tonight when we send her back? Richard has sent us the address and everything," I think about my answer for a second. I have no idea what to do. It's going to be hard letting her go, or even look her in the eyes after what she told me about her and Thomas.
"I'm not sure yet. I'll think about it," I tell her honestly and she nods. I get out and watch her drive away before I walk into my apartment. Parts of me wishes she'd still be there, but one tiny part of me knows it won't end well if she is. Maybe it's better to be alone for a while and think about what to do tonight; to go or not to go. It's going to be so hard. Letting go of someone you love is the hardest thing anyone has to do ever. But for some reason, this time, it's twice as hard.