IMAGINES ⌲ dylan o'brien

someone does

THIRD PERSON

Today was the day. (Y/N)'s fingers excitedly ripped open the envelope she had just snatched from the mailbox. Her shaking hands extracted the letter, hurriedly unfolding it to reveal a typed letter.

Her eyes flickered around and around, reading further and further until she met the only words she cared about:

You have been accepted.

She almost dropped the mail itself. She got it. She was accepted.

(Y/N) remembered how it felt to get one of these from a college, but this one was different.

She had her actual dream job. Where she would make money.

   
She set it down and with a smile, ran her fingers through her hair, almost finding it unbelievable. God, she did it! After all the work she put into it, (Y/N) actually got it!

She did a small little dance in the foyer, before shoveling her phone out of her pocket instantly. She looked at the time and realized Dylan would be home soon and she could definitely give him the news in person. (Y/N) unlocked her phone and decided to ring up her mom.

Her mom, as she very much knew, wasn't exactly ecstatic about her career choice nor with her moving in with Dylan- but surely, now that she had the job, that would change, right?

(Y/N) clicked her contact and put the phone up to her ear, listening to it ring.

    "(Y/N)?"

She smiled. "Hey, Mom. How are you?"

   "Alright. You?"

(Y/N) became giddy. "That's actually what I was calling about. I have news."

   (Y/N) heard a sigh. "Are you pregnant? See, I told you that moving in was never the good choice and -"

Her eyebrows furrowed, a little hurt at the comment. "No, Mom, no. I- I got the job. You know, the one I was texting you about last month?"

   There was a silence for a moment.

"Oh," Her mother breathed. "You actually did that? Honey, I thought you were joking."

   (Y/N) calmed down, a little less happy than 30 seconds ago. "No, uh- it was real. I did it, and I got the job."

"Hmm-" Her mother hummed. "Well, I hope you know what you're doing. I warned you about getting a job like this."

   "Mom-" (Y/N) sighed. "I know what I'm doing. This is what I went to school for."

"Unfortunately." Her mother grumbled into the phone.

    (Y/N) was silent and with stinging eyes, decided that maybe her mother would just always not be proud of what she was pursuing. She was wrong about that. This was a bad decision.

"Okay-" (Y/N) gulped, licking her lips: "Well-uh- have a good day. I should probably start up on some dinner."

   "Do you cook?" Her mother scoffed. "I knew that boy would make you so everything, being all Mr. Famous-"

(Y/N) shut off her phone before her mother could finish.

Her chest felt tight and her hands were sweaty. The letter on the table didn't look so nice anymore, and instead reminded (Y/N) that she has yet to make her mom proud. She never would.