Shawn Mendes Imagines

Just Like You

hey! i thought that this would be a good idea but tell me what you think :)) Also sorry for slow updates

*Y/n's POV*

I was sitting up in bed with my husband Shawn sleeping next to me when I heard a knock on our bedroom door.

"Mom, Dad, can I talk to you guys in a little bit?" It was our son, Dylan. He was seventeen, soon turning eighteen, and had already graduated high school.

"Yeah, sure," I replied, "We'll be down in a bit." I heard him walk away and back downstairs. Turning to face Shawn, I started shaking his shoulder gently. He rolled over to face me and smiled, "Good morning, lovely."

"Good morning babe," I told him, "Dylan wants to talk to us."

Shawn scrunched his eyebrows together, "About what?" He looked concerned.

"I don't know," I replied, "He sounded a little nervous though."

"That's probably not good," Shawn sat up and kissed me on the lips quickly, "I guess we're gonna find out."

In a few minutes, we got mostly ready and walked downstairs to see Dylan. "So, Dyl, what's up?" Shawn asked as he sat next to me on the living room couch.

"Well, I kind of wanted to ask you about something," Dylan began, nervously playing with his fingers just like Shawn did, "You know, I've been playing guitar and piano since I was like seven. Also, in the past couple of years, I've been really working on improving my singing, and my voice has improved a lot. I've been thinking about this for a while, and I've decided that I want to try for a career in music."

"That's great," I grinned, "I'm a bit relieved that it wasn't bad news. This is exciting news." I had sort of been waiting for Dylan to say that he wanted to do music as a career. He was so much like Shawn that I had pretty much expected it. Although, I was pretty sure Dylan didn't want to use his dad's fame to get his start. He was independent like that.

"Wait," Shawn spoke up, "What did you want to ask us then?" For some reason, he didn't look as happy as I thought he would be.

"I want to move to Los Angeles," Dylan stated, "I've been planning on moving to LA once I turn eighteen so I can try to get my start there. I wanted to ask you about it before I leave." (just remembered that turning 18 doesn't really mean the same thing in canada as it does in the us but i think it still kinda works)

Oh, I thought, a little surprised. Shawn didn't say a word. "Please say something," Dylan looked at me with worried eyes.

"Well," I stated, "It is a pretty far away from Toronto, so that makes me kind of sad. I won't be able to see you as often. But you are almost an adult. If you really think that this will be good for you, then I agree you should go."

"What?" Shawn blurted, "Are you serious?"

I looked at him and he stared back at me like I just told our son to go jump off a cliff. "What, Shawn? Do you think he should go?" I questioned.

"Of course I don't," Shawn objected, "He's way too young. He's not going."

"But Dad-" Dylan tried.

"No, Dylan," Shawn cut him off, "I'm not taking any arguments on this. You're not moving to Los Angeles when you're only eighteen and that's final."

Dylan stared at his dad for a couple seconds before rolling his eyes and storming off to his room. Shawn sighed and leaned back on the couch cushions. "Shawn," I tried to meet his eyes, but he wouldn't look at me. "What's wrong?"