PLASTIC HEARTS | shawmila

five.

Camila tried to spend the next few days completely ignoring her newfound crush on Shawn, but that was easier said than done. Living in such a small space meant that he was just always there.

John retained his strict rehearsal schedule and would shut himself in the back lounge area for hours at a time, the sound of the unplugged electric strings barely audible over the rumbling of the bus.

Camila would sometimes go sit with him, just to maintain appearances, and because it was almost like going somewhere to be alone, since John all but ignored her. She'd just put on her headphones and stare out the window, listening to her secret pop playlist.

Everywhere else, there was Shawn. Camila found it impossible not to stare at him. She noticed new things about him all the time, the way he always drummed his fingers on the counter or table, or the way he ate cereal seemingly for every meal, sometimes just pouring it straight from the box into his mouth. It was so cute.

She watched him even when he was spaced out. He would put in his headphones and stare out the window the way she did, drumming his drumsticks on the back of the chairs in time to the music that only he could hear. He'd sometimes get so into it that Connor would lean over and kick him.

"Will you cut that out, please?"

The more Camila watched Shawn push his hair out of his face countless times a day, or laugh or smile in the way that he did, all she could think about was how badly she wanted to kiss him.

She showed him the screenshot she'd taken of his fangirls on Twitter, watching as his face went red. Camila giggled, laughing harder when Connor and Greta asked what was so funny. They all then proceeded to tease Shawn about his fangirls all the way to the next city.

Camila grabbed a bag of her random clothes and ran from the bus into the venue, desperate for a shower. She scrubbed her whole body with the hottest water she could stand, washing off the bus smell and hearing Greta laying her clothes out in the dressing room.

Their second show was even more amazing than the first one. Camila kept Shawn's spare drumsticks in her back pocket, but they didn't end up needing them.

Camila watched how Shawn looked on drums, so amazing and powerful. She did the whole setlist with John, dancing around him and sharing glances until he finally grabbed her and pulled her close. She kissed him back, her heart only racing when she imagined it was Shawn.

They were checking into a hotel for the night, letting the bus refuel. Camila was so grateful to sleep in a real bed. She and the others followed Roger inside, but he suddenly lingered, pulling her aside.

She figured it was about time for a lecture. Despite her doing everything right, she knew Roger was still here to remind her she could be doing more in her relationship with John. He'd once told her that he wasn't her enemy in this situation, and she believed him, until he dropped the next bombshell.

"No—" She snapped, her face flushing. "I'm not doing that, no. I'm not going to share a room with John."

"Camila, it was just a gentle suggestion." Roger lowered his voice, trying to backtrack. Camila just stared back at him, her glare unwavering.

"What for, exactly? We're supposed to look the part in front of the audience, in front of cameras." Camila pointed out. "The only people who'll notice we don't go to bed in the same room would be you and the others, and maybe they'll think we just wanna sleep without being cramped, which I do."

"Alright, alright." He sighed. "How about this—the rooms are connected by doors that stay locked. You can take the room next door to John's. Just go in his room, and you can access yours from inside. That way, it looks like you're sharing, but you'll still have your own space. Everyone's happy."