Shawn Mendes Imagines

After Party - Part 2

Note:
So this is part two! If you haven't read the first part, I highly recommend for you to read it bc otherwise you'll have no idea what's going on lol. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!
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Music:
~ Different by James TW
~ Slow Dancing in a Burning Room by John Mayer
~ Moving On and Getting Over by John Mayer
~ Still Feel Like Your Man by John Mayer

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The moment I became lucid again, I let out a painful groan. I could feel a pinching headache growing alarmingly fast as I opened my eyes, which required an exhausting effort. As soon as I caught a glimpse of light, I shut them back inmediately, feeling its brightness burn my vision.

I rolled out of whatever I was lying in and finally sat down on its edge. As soon as I started adjusting to my surroundings, I opened my eyes again. To my surprise, I was in my bedroom, and everything looked pretty much the same as always, exept for one particular thing: there was a flower pot resting above the desk beside my bed with a beautiful rose planted on it.

It took me a few seconds to figure out where could that possibly have come from, but flashes of memories started hitting my brain like punching fists, too many for me to put in order. I recalled dreadful events like the break up and the excess of alcohol, but there was something, more like someone, that seemed to stand out from all of them, as if they had been sewed to my mind with thick, sharp needles: the tall, unbelievably handsome guy I met at the party.

I stood up and lifted up the rose to examine it. It had a folded piece of paper stuck inside, nailed inside the fresh dirt. I grabbed it between my fingers, and felt the rugous material against my fingertips. I hesitated for a moment, but finally opened it, revealing a messy handwriting.

"Hey, it's Shawn. I hope you're feeling better today, and not only about the hungover you're probably suffering right now. It was nice to meet you yesterday, but by the time I realised you hadn't told me your name, you were already asleep. I didn't want to undress you, so I'm sorry if you weren't comfortable enough. Anyways, I'll leave you my number here. Please, call me as soon as you're feeling better. Also, I'd like to know what your name is :) - Shawn"

The message looked as if it had been a complete struggle to put into words. Some words were crossed out, and there were traces of ink everywhere. But there was something I was far more concerned about than the esthetic of the note. I realised I'd agreed to get inside the car of a complete stranger; in fact, I was just finding out his name was Shawn. What the hell was I thinking?

I wasn't. Just like Matt, my ex boyfiend, didn't think about what would happen to me. How would he, when he didn't even think about going after me after I found him exchanging saliva with some chick?

He didn't care. He probably never did, but I was just too fucking blind to see the truth.

I considered laying in bed all day, crying my eyes out while eating cheap ice cream, but decided I couldn't waste any more time on that jerk. So, instead, I went to the bathroom, took a shower, brushed my teeth and changed up into some jeans, a grey, sleeveless shirt and some Adidas shoes.

When I was done, I checked my watch and figured breakfast was out of the question, since it was almost noon, so I decided to do what was eating up my nerves since the moment I read Shawn's note.

I looked through my party purse, and thanked heavens when I found my phone. Surprisingly, it had some battery left, so I dialed Shawn's number, and pressed the phone to my ear, waiting for him to pick up. My heart rate increased with each beep, and I bit the inside of my cheeks in an attempt to calm my rowdy nerves.