Arranged Marriage

iii

ten votes for the next chapter :)

camila cabello — july 30th, 9:46 p.m.

It was already very late at night, and I still wanted to play the piano. The music had been a special place in my heart and forever will — but the piano and how it made a sound so everlasting gave shivers down my spine. My fingers were placed upon the keys, as I sucked my breath and played the notes. Shawn was still asleep, I hoped. He was tired from all the career things. He said that the piano was off limits; but being the curious and sassy girl I was — I broke the rules, so bad. I'm joking, I'm joking. But seriously. And the guitar, but we all know how it's so precious to him.

I didn't understand what it was like being famous and having people supporting you no matter what. But there were consequences—and hate. This thought floated in my head and my playing got slower as tears rushed through my eyes.

What would his fans do?

I bit my lip, my throat aching to let out a sob. I gulped, letting go of the keys. My hand clenched around my mouth, my arm brushing my hair.

"I don't want this! I don't want him," I cried out, closing the cover and stood from the bench. I turned around to see Shawn leaning on the door frame. "Sh-Shawn," I croaked. "I'm so sorry. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be here with you. I miss my home. I miss me."

Guilt filled his eyes as he walked towards me, bearing me in a bone-crushing hug. What happened? I played his piano! "I'm sorry princess. I don't want this either. Do you want to talk about it?"  He asked, in a soothing voice.

"Shawn? I just played your — you said — what? Off limits, remember?"

"Camila, that song was amazing."

This didn't make sense! He still hated me somehow a few hours ago.

"Thanks."

•••

By the end of the night, Shawn carried me to his room. Well, I limped my way into my room. He just held me, you jerk. I expected a bridal position, but I guess I was goimg to save that for the wedding. This all confused me so much. How would he even propose to me?

I woke up from feeling weird, and my head hurt. A whirlwind of pain hit me, and I fell back to the bed. "Camila, wake up!" I head Shawn's voice coming from his room. I groaned, and hit my pillow.

"One more minute, I promise!"

"You said that twenty minutes ago! Your pancakes are getting cold, Princess." He said, in an annoyed tone. I hated the pet names, mostly because it made me feel like a stuck up rich girl with a hot boyfriend and a Mercedes-Benz. I think too much. I grunted, and hit the pillow again. I felt being lifted on my bed, and I was about to scream until I head that devil's voice again. "Calm down, Cams. It's just me."

"Don't say that! Only Lauren can call me that."

He rolled his eyes and lowered his hands so I could feel the ground again. I found myself in his kitchen, and I could never, ever, say that it looked bad. Was it because he was famous and rich?

"Ooh, nice kitchen." I said, rubbing my eyes as I walked to the counter and grabbed my breakfast. "Pancakes!" I gasped, looking at Shawn. I dashed to him and wrapped my arms around him, sighing into his chest. "Thank you!"

Just as I was about to say another word, his arms made their way to pull me into another hug. "You smell good," he mumbled. "Oh my God, I am so sorry. Why did I say that, oh my gosh."

I laughed, and nodded my head. "It's vanilla, Mendes."

•••

"How do you use this?" Shawn asked, picking up my necklace that was a bit confusing, I will say. It was gold chains going over the shoulders and the chest. I was unpacking things from my five last boxes.

"I don't know Shawn, Lauren gave it to me." I laughed, looking at the shiny jewelry.

"Looks stupid," He chuckled.

"Shawn," My lips curved into a frown. "that was from my sixteenth birthday. She was the only person who gave me gifts."

He dropped the necklace and gave a sorry look. "Oh, sorry."

"Just . . go to your room or something. I'm going to finish unboxing these clothes, I think I'll be fine without your help." I said, putting the last pair of jeans in the white dresser. I felt so overdramatic—it was just a necklace. But, it was true. My parents weren't that loving. At all. I almost had to go through High school all alone except with Lauren, who helped me with everything. The sudden panic attacks, the crying sessions at three in the morning—everything. "I'm fine."

"Camila, I didn't know." He said, walking closer. My eyes averted to him, and raised my eyebrow.

"I don't care, Shawn! Just go!"

He rolled his eyes and left the room. Thoughts infiltrated my brain, making tears blanket my eyes. I wanted to go home. I wanted to leave this place, and go to my save haven. Clearly, I don't know where that is. My eyes closed, my cheeks feeling the tears slipping down. I just wanted sweet, untainted peace. Not chaos and drama, not Shawn.

I wanted to leave.