Shawn Mendes Imagines

Moving Out

Hey! Thank you to makayla_real_me for giving me the idea for this. Also, this is a part 2 to my imagine "Just Like You" so if you haven't read that, you might want to check it out before reading this :)
Enjoy!

*Y/n's POV*

It was a week after Dylan's eighteenth birthday, and during that short week, the idea of him moving out started to get more and more real. For days, Dylan had been packing clothes and other important things in a couple of suitcases. After a bit of debating and figuring everything out, Dylan had decided to stay with one of his friends in Los Angeles until he could get his own place. He wasn't taking all his belongings, but his bedroom slowly began to look empty, with bare walls and more unfilled space than ever. It was a little sad, although I tried to tell myself that it was good. He had to move out sometime, even if it was a little early. 

The day before Dylan was going to leave, I was at home while Shawn was working. I walked up to Dylan's open doorway and looked around the room. It looked a lot different inside. Dylan was packing a few things into a backpack on his bed. "What're you up to?" I asked. 

He turned around for a second and glanced at me. "Just packing some final stuff to take with me on the plane," he replied, "I feel like I've been packing forever." 

I stepped into his room. "Do you want some help?" 

"Yes, please. I could use some," he grinned, "I feel like I'm packing like way too much stuff." 

I started helping him put small items like pieces for his guitar and some mementos in the bag. "Well, that's probably a good thing. You're definitely going to need more than what you would bring on a vacation." 

"Yeah," Dylan agreed, "I want to make sure I'm not doing anything wrong or forgetting something." 

"I think you're doing great so far," I said, continuing helping him pack. It was weird seeing empty spots in Dylan's bedroom where I could remember old toys and other things from his childhood being there. 

Thinking of that suddenly made my eyes prickle like I was going to cry. I started to realize that maybe I wasn't as cool with Dylan leaving as I had thought I was. Almost every time anyone had mentioned him moving out, I had felt this pang of sadness, but until then, I didn't know why. But finally, I did. The thought of Dylan not being at home and living incredibly far away was making me not want him to leave. However, I couldn't tell Dylan that. I knew to let Dylan move out was the right thing and I didn't want to have him stay because of me, so I told myself to keep quiet and hoped that it wouldn't be too hard when he left.

The next day, Shawn and I were awake early to drive Dylan to the airport. Shawn was driving and I was next to him in the passenger seat. Dylan was sitting behind me. I couldn't believe it was actually the day Dylan was leaving. Time had flown by. My son was eighteen and moving away from me. I don't think I could have said that out loud without choking up. And I was still convinced to not make Dylan worry about me missing him, so I tried to not talk about it while we drove.

Shawn, though, didn't seem to be nearly as upset or worried as I was. He looked so calm like nothing was even happening. Like our son wasn't moving thousands of miles away. On a plane. By himself. I really needed to not think about it. 

"Are you excited or are you nervous?" Shawn asked, glancing at Dylan in the rearview mirror. 

Dylan shrugged. "I guess sort of both. I'm excited to be in LA again. I haven't been since that one year I came with you on tour. I was barely ten years old then."

"You're not nervous to go on a plane?" Shawn joked.

"There's no way I could be," Dylan shook his head, grinning, "I've traveled with you so many times, Dad, that being on a plane is as normal as waking up in the morning. Except it's usually not as comfy."