Traveler of the Sky // Shawn Mendes

Dreams

I wake up in a cold sweat. The dream so surreal. I must have fallen asleep while watching netflix. I notice the pizza box on the floor. The T.V. has a blank screen because nothing is playing, but it is still turned on. I go on twitter and notice I have some tweets. One is from the Abby girl from London. 

@Babigail__ #Shylar come back

I notice that her friend Geni retweeted Abby's tweet and tweeted: 

@power_reject #Shylar come back

There are some other fangirls tweeting the same thing, and others with harsh things about #Shylar. I didn't ask for this. you wouldn't stand for this, you wouldn't let these fangirls tweet me like this. You would do something about it. You would fix it. I only had a dream about Shawn and suddenly I have more #Shylar tweets.

 I just want to delete everything. Delete the plane ride, I shouldn't have had any conversation with Shawn at all. I want to delete the hotel. I should have told him I was fine and I could find my room on my own. I shouldn't have let him come in and watch Disney movies and eat pizza with me. I shouldn't have agreed to exploring London with him. I shouldn't have gone out to lunch with him. That's probably how this all started. With Hamilton saying something about Shawn Mendes with a girl who no one has ever seen before. That stupid waiter. 

I notice it's around 9:00 a.m. so I decide to go take a shower. I turn on Pandora and bluetooth connect my phone to the speaker in the bathroom. I decide to listen to Halsey's channel on the app and Roman Holiday is the first song that plays. As the next song starts playing I immediately notice the voice, and wish I would have just taken a silent shower without music. But this isn't Life of the Party, this is a different song. It's called Imagination I think. When it finishes there isn't just shower water running down my face, but also tears. My mind instantly flashes back to my dream. 

'Open the door, Skylar, it's cold in this hallway.' I thought he was really here. I thought he was here for me. He came searching for me. He came running to me with his arms wide open. Maybe he had felt bad and wanted to see me. Maybe he heard some of the things the fangirls were saying or tweeting and wanted to come comfort me. Maybe he came running because he missed me. Maybe he felt something and he needed to tell me. 

Maybe none of these reasons are true and I just miss his company. Maybe I feel something for him. Maybe that's why I had a dream about him coming back to me, looking for me, needing me in front of him, needing to see me. I barely know him, why would I feel anything? I never got those butterflies I felt with you, I only blushed once and that was when we went to lunch. Maybe it's because he's the first person I trusted because he's the first person I've told about you. Maybe I don't feel anything for him, and he doesn't feel anything for me either. Maybe I'm just being delusional. I have not been with anyone since our freshmen year. I will not let the first guy I get emotionally involved with next be Shawn. 

I conclude my thoughts when I finish my shower and step out into the cold bathroom air. I dry off and get dressed for the day even though I have no idea what I'm going to do. I put on black bandeau  with a see through black crop top, a pair of high-waisted light wash jeans, and a flannel that is orange and navy blue. I brush my teeth and apply my normal make-up and fix my hair. I decide to just brush it out while it's still wet and run my fingers through it with some hair gel. I then throw my head over so I'm looking at the ground and my hair is is covering my face. I pull all of it together and put it into a ballerina bun and spray it with some sea salt hair spray. When I take it down tomorrow it should have some beach curls in it.

I grab my phone and key card and grab a taxi and tell him to take me to the Eiffel Tower. Once we arrive I pay him and hop out of the taxi. I look up to see the giant structure and I just stare in awe. 

I find an empty bench with the perfect view and I just stare at the tower, hesitant to actually go up. I start thinking about you again. You should be encouraging me to go up to the top of the tower. You should be sitting here betting on whether I'll go up or not. Or challenging me saying I wouldn't do it even if someone gave me money. Or you would be making funny poses in front of the Eiffel Tower, and making silly noises, or telling people I was too scared to go up because you thought they would come up to try and talk to me and tell me it's not that bad. You would be trying so hard to get me up the tower and I would tell you maybe tomorrow. Then we would go and get dinner from somewhere, and I would start a fight with a waiter for treating you badly. Then we would walk back to the hotel and I would you more about Nash and Skylynn. 

I'm not afraid to say Nash's name anymore ever since I heard that fangirl say it in London. I'm not afraid to think of them anymore because they a part of my past, and I loved them. I should be proud I loved them. I should be proud that I am living out me and Nash's dream with Nash or not. I should be proud of everything Nash and Skylynn ever did in their lives because I loved them. I'm not afraid to say their names anymore. I'm afraid to say yours.