Shawn Mendes' best friend and solo artist Camila Cabello is called forth to assist him on writing and producing his sophomore album in Upstate New York. A romance sparks and the two are now closer than ever.
Started ~ 4/2/17
Shawn ~ My thumbs continuously scrolled through my Twitter feed out of pure boredom. My crew and I had left New York and are now in Chicago to perform a show before announcing my new album set to release in September.
"Anybody got chapstick?" My manager, Andrew, randomly blurted out. Everyone shook their heads at his sudden necessity to hydrate his lips.
Reverting my attention back to the screen, a sudden notification from Twitter popped up. When looking as to what it was, it turned out to be an interview by E! with Camila. Apparently, they had been talking about me. Then again, the media blows things way out of portion almost 99% if the time. As I clicked on the interview link, the video began to play.
I hadn't talked to Camila since we wrote together. It feels strange to hear her voice again, especially when she's talking about me.
"So, is there anything going on between you two? Are you guys dating?"
"Shawn is an amazing artist and I have always come to support him."
I'm surprised that she did not immediately deny it. Why didn't she? She's mad at me, it's clear to see, but she didn't say that we aren't dating. Maybe she's confused in what we even are. I know that I am at least.
I feel as though the only way I could be even sure whether or not we are still friends is if I talk to her. I don't want to text her, I want to be able to hear her unrehearsed voice talk to me as her friend and not a song writer.
Immediately dialing in her phone number, my mind raced around the place to think about what I should say to her.
The call began to ring for a brief moment until all I can hear is breathing on the other end of the call. I swallow my pride and begin the conversation before she can hang up.
"Camila?" Nervousness rang through my voice. Just at the sound of her name Andrew, along with the other few people in the room, left. That was mostly in my part for not leaving to take the call, but it's too late now.
"Yes?" She quietly yet annoyingly replied. I'm just surprised she answered at all.
"Can we talk, or are you busy?"
"No... we can talk. Why?"
"I think we both know why."
"... ok."
"I'm sorry. I could say it a million times and still not be sorry enough. You know me, Camila. I never meant to act like I'm the only person struggling. I realize that everybody has their own struggles ."
"Well, you did. You could've just let it go when I asked you to."
"I know, you don't know just how sorry I am, Camila--"
"No, I really don't." Irritation was now louder as ever in her voice. This time, she sounded a bit more intimidating with her answer choices.
"Again, if I could, I would say that I'm sorry a million times a--"
"Then do it."
Mentally rolling my eyes at her personality, I took no time to actually began counting off my apologies towards her. Only she would make me say them.
