Dylan O'Brien Imagines

Irreplaceable (Part 1) // Dylan O'Brien

"Excuse me," You called out to the bartender weakly, a strong sense of fatigue laced within your words. "Yeah, can I get about ... like, five more of these? Thanks."

"Rough night?" She asked, eyes twinkling with mischief. You thought you noticed a flicker of sympathy pass through them, but you ultimately chose to blame it on the alcohol infiltrating your system.

A strangled snort escaped you. "Rough month, more like."

She began mixing your drink, ponytail whipping around as she expertly located all the ingredients and gathered them in front of you. A kind smile rose to her lips as she took in your forlorn expression. "Wanna talk about it? I've heard that us bartenders have an incredible reputation for being great listeners."

"Well, it all started when my boyfriend and I broke up so he could go off and live his dream of becoming a celebrity. He was the one who called it off because he didn't want me to endure the pressures of dating an actor," You explained, the bartender finishing your order and placing it before you. Sending a feeble yet grateful grin at her, taking a sip and letting the alcohol burn your throat. With a small sigh and teary eyes, you continued. "I get he wants to keep me safe, but I still love him, you know? I mean, the fact that he pushed me away to protect me makes me love him even more. It really sucks when you think of someone as the one and they just end up breaking your heart."

"That's rough," Your newest confidant agreed with your feelings, leaning against the bar that separated the two of you. "Have you tried talking to him about it? Y'know, making him aware of how this new change has impacted you?"

"Believe me, I wanted to." You said, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. "You have no idea how many times I've dialed his number, only to chicken out at the last digit and carry on with my life like we never even met.

"Not like he'd even pick up, anyways. He's dating some bimbo now who probably only wants him for his money." A rogue tear finally escaped your eye, and you allowed it to trace your cheek as it made its descent because you didn't care. "He doesn't deserve that at all. I'm so proud of him for how far he's come, don't get me wrong. And I was never the perfect girlfriend, either, but I always tried to be. No matter what, I always made sure he knew that he was loved, and I think that's all that matters. I just want him to be happy."

"Sweetie," The bartender consoled, placing a comforting hand atop yours. You looked up at her, and saw an expression filled with nothing but solace that you hadn't seen in a long time. "Anyone who's willing to drop someone like you is—"

"A complete and utter moron." A new voice invited itself into the conversation, and your entire body stiffened. You knew that voice. Hell, you lived to hear that voice; the voice you figured you'd earned the pleasure of listening to for the rest of your days. The voice that always anchored you to your sanity. The voice that used to wake you up every morning. The voice that brought you home.

Thinking it was too good to be true, that it was just the alcohol pushing you to the brink of hallucinations, you almost didn't turn around.

Almost.

The first thing you noticed were the black sunglasses covering those breathtakingly brown eyes you yearned to see again. He took in a shaky breath before pulling the glasses down the bridge of his cute button nose that you loved to kiss at night. The look in his eyes was heartbreaking. He looked like he hadn't gotten a good night of sleep in weeks, and he seemed to have misplaced that familiar spark that drew you to him in the first place. He looked worse than you felt.

"You didn't tell me that your ex was Dylan O'Brien." You heard the bartender mumble to herself, but you couldn't bear to look away from the man beside you, in fear that he would disappear; that this was all just a cruel dream.

"Can we talk?" He asked, a gentle innocence in his tone that had you falling in love with him all over again.

Entranced by his unwavering gaze, you simply nodded. Sliding from your seat, you offered one last glance to your awestruck bartender friend and followed the love of your life into the cool night air. Fatigue filled every crevice of your body, and it willed you to sit on a nearby bench. Dylan mimicked your actions, and you allowed yourself to take a peek at him. His eyes glazed over with despair and grief, but his body jittered with unwanted energy.

"So ... where do we go from here?"