Dylan in People Like Us: Character Analysis of the Imaginary Friend Turned Assistant

Overview: From Imaginary Friend to Haunted Assistant in People Like Us

Dylan begins as the narrator's imaginary childhood friend—a boy only he could see and hear—and reappears years later as a polished, multilingual assistant to a wealthy European billionaire. His transformation is both literal and symbolic: he is no longer a figment of the narrator's imagination but a flesh-and-blood young man carrying the weight of a traumatic past. Dylan's arc in the novel is defined by his desperate search for a place to belong, his recurring dissociative episodes tied to a school shooting, and his ultimate victimization by the gun violence that pervades the story. He serves as a mirror for the narrator's own grief and displacement, and his presence forces the narrator to confront the limits of storytelling as a means of healing.

Plot Role: Guide, Interpreter, and Catalyst

Dylan's primary function in the plot is to escort the narrator through Europe after the narrator accepts the billionaire Frenchie's invitation. He introduces himself as a stranger, despite the narrator's emotional recognition, and maintains a professional distance that slowly erodes as the story progresses. Dylan translates menus, navigates embassies, and manages logistics, but his role extends far beyond that of a mere assistant. His sudden collapses—first in a bar in Pordenone, then on a Parisian street—become pivotal moments that force the narrator to step outside his own grief and care for someone else. Dylan's episodes also reveal the novel's central concern with the psychological aftermath of gun violence: he screams about being locked in a classroom during a shooting, and his unconscious body seems to relive the trauma. In this way, Dylan is not just a character but a living embodiment of the book's themes.

Motivations and Traits: The Desire to Belong

Dylan's actions are driven by a profound need for home and acceptance. He tells the narrator, “I'm tired of having to fit. I just want to be somewhere where I don't have to fit because I'm already built in. I want to be home.” This longing shapes his behavior throughout the novel. He is fiercely proud, correcting the narrator when he calls him “kid” and insisting on his chosen name. He is also deeply intelligent and adaptable, speaking five languages and moving effortlessly between cultures, yet he feels like an “Other” everywhere. His traits—composure, wit, and a sharp tongue—mask a fragile interior. When he breaks down in Paris, he confesses, “I'm tired of being outnumbered. I'm tired of not fitting in even when I do everything I can to fit in.” His anger and tears reveal a young man who has tried to assimilate but has never been allowed to fully belong.

Chronological Arc: From Imaginary Friend to Shooting Victim

Dylan's arc spans the narrator's past and present. In the narrator's memory, Dylan was a ten-year-old boy with a bright smile who accompanied him on a book tour, visible only to the narrator. He disappeared without explanation, and the narrator assumed he had outgrown him. Years later, in Italy, Dylan reappears as an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old, dressed in skinny jeans and a salmon button-down, speaking with a washed-out accent. He insists he is a stranger, but the narrator recognizes him instantly. Over the course of the European tour, Dylan's polished exterior cracks. In Pordenone, he collapses mid-conversation, and the narrator holds his hand until he regains consciousness. In Paris, after a tense meeting with two prominent figures, Dylan storms out, accuses the narrator of hiding, and breaks down sobbing. He then enters a dissociative state, collapsing again, and is carried to a medical center by the mysterious Remus. He remains unconscious for weeks, during which Kelly reveals his backstory: he ran away from his family near DC as a child and eventually came to work for Frenchie. When he finally wakes, the group celebrates, but the peace is shattered when Remus appears and forces a confrontation that ends with Dylan being shot through a windowpane. He survives, but the incident underscores the novel's argument that violence follows people wherever they go.

Relationships: Bonds of Adoption and Alienation

Dylan's relationships are marked by both connection and estrangement. With the narrator, he shares a history that the narrator cherishes but Dylan seems determined to bury. Dylan's insistence on being treated as a stranger initially hurts the narrator, but their bond deepens as Dylan's vulnerabilities surface. The narrator becomes a protective figure, catching Dylan when he collapses and sitting by his bedside. Kelly and The Goon also adopt Dylan as family, sleeping in his room and refusing to leave him alone. Dylan's relationship with Frenchie is professional but also paternalistic; Frenchie provides for him but also uses him as a tool. Dylan's most painful relationship is with his parents, whom he ran away from. Kelly explains that Dylan begged his parents to stay in Europe, but they took him back to the US, and he later fled again. Dylan's envy of people who have a homeland—he mentions that Victor is actually Jamaican—reveals his deep sense of rootlessness.

Key Decisions and Consequences

Dylan's pivotal decision is to run away from his family and build a new life in Europe. This choice gives him safety and opportunity but also severs him from any sense of origin. He decides to work for Frenchie, which provides material comfort but reinforces his status as an outsider. He also decides to stay in Europe permanently, joining the narrator, Kelly, and The Goon in Frenchie's mansion. This decision is a form of surrender—he accepts that he can never return to the US, which he describes as “burning.” His most consequential decision, however, is to confront the narrator about his identity, which leads to his emotional breakdown and, ultimately, his shooting. The shooting is an accident, but it is the direct result of the narrator's decision to carry a gun and Remus's insistence on a confrontation. Dylan's survival is uncertain, but his trauma is compounded.

Themes and Symbols: The Search for Home and the Cost of Violence

Dylan is the novel's most direct embodiment of the theme of the search for home and belonging. He is a character who has been displaced from his country, his family, and even his own sense of self. His multilingualism and cultural adaptability are symbols of his attempt to assimilate, but they also highlight his alienation. Dylan's dissociative episodes are symbolic of the way trauma lives in the body, echoing the novel's exploration of grief and the impossibility of changing the past. His screams about being locked in a classroom during a shooting connect directly to the theme of the normalization of gun violence. Dylan's shooting at the end is a brutal reminder that no amount of distance or wealth can protect against the violence that defines American life. His character also touches on racial identity and the illusion of safety through success, as he achieves professional success but remains an “Other” in Europe. Finally, Dylan's story is a testament to storytelling as survival, as the narrator tries to use words to fix him, even though words ultimately fail.

Five Book-Specific Questions and Answers

1. Why does Dylan insist on being called “Dylan” and not “Kid”?

Dylan's insistence on his chosen name is a rejection of his past as the narrator's imaginary friend. He wants to be seen as an adult with his own identity, not as a figment of someone else's imagination. The text shows him correcting the narrator multiple times, and his anger when the narrator slips up reveals how important this boundary is to him.

2. What causes Dylan's collapses and dissociative episodes?

The novel implies that Dylan's episodes are psychological, tied to a traumatic experience of being locked in a classroom during a school shooting. Kelly reveals that he screams about this during his unconsciousness, and Dylan himself mentions a medical condition and takes pills. The episodes seem to transport him back to Baltimore, suggesting a form of PTSD.

3. Why can't Dylan return to the United States?

Dylan says he can never go back because “that whole place is burning and everyone I left there is burning with it.” He feels that the US offers no safety or belonging for him, and he has severed ties with his family. His decision to stay in Europe is a permanent one, as he believes there is no home for him in America.

4. What does Dylan's jealousy of Victor reveal about his character?

Dylan envies Victor because Victor has a homeland—Jamaica—that he can call his own. This jealousy underscores Dylan's rootlessness. He has no place that claims him, and he feels that even the South, which he calls “the closest thing we'll ever get to a homeland,” is not truly his. This reveals his deep longing for a stable identity.

5. How does Dylan's shooting connect to the novel's themes?

Dylan's shooting is an accident, but it is the culmination of the novel's critique of gun violence. The narrator carries a gun for protection, but it ends up harming the person he cares about most. This event illustrates the theme that violence is inescapable, even for those who try to flee it. It also reinforces the idea that the normalization of gun violence has consequences that ripple outward, affecting even the innocent.

Dylan's character is a powerful reminder that the past cannot be outrun, and that the search for home is often a search for a place that no longer exists. His story, like the narrator's, is one of survival and loss, and his presence in the novel deepens its exploration of grief, identity, and the enduring impact of violence.