Travel // Shawn Mendes

seven

Do I know you?

Does he know me? No. You have to be kidding me.

Maybe it was the fact that I was disappointed in him not remembering  dancing with me, or that my favorite top now owned a brown stain, or that after this, I was going to have to stalk him for the rest of the night, or maybe all of the above. But a tight feeling in my chest grew, and I took a deep breath before speaking my mind.

"Are you fucking serious? It's been four days. How do you not remember dancing with someone only four days ago?"

The singer I had just gone to the concert of backed up, obviously stunned, and I noticed a look in his eyes that made me clarify my reasoning behind the disappointment.

"No, I don't fucking care about dancing with you that badly. But it says a lot about a person who can't even remember a girl they flirted with less than a week ago."

In all seriousness, if Shawn Mendes had not poured his coffee onto me after an already rough day, I would not have reacted this way.  But I remembered almost everything about that day, and probably would have anyways without his dance.

"I- uh- I-" Shawn begins, and I let out a deep breath of complete exhaustion, telling myself to calm down.

To defend him, it was late at night, he had just finished a show, and he probably had a much busier schedule than me. Not to mention that during those four days, he definitely had to have danced with some other girls.

God, Nora. Calm down.

"Whatever. But if I wanted an autograph, I would have asked for one with sharpie on a paper." I say to his dismay, referencing to my now ruined shirt.

Noticing that the old woman had yet to come back to the counter, despite my scene, I decided to turn around, ready to get back to a place I didn't want to be anymore than here.

"It was your fault."

"I'm sorry- what?" I say in utter disbelief, turning around quickly to meet his gaze.

This is definitely not the kind of behavior his manager would condone.

"Apology accepted." Is his reply, and any thought of kindness towards him is washed away. However my temples were throbbing with a headache, and I didn't have it in me to scream at him any longer.

"Two water bottles and a muffin."

"What?" Shawn says in confusion, and I point towards the counter, repeating my request.

"Unless you're about to pull out your wand and turn my shirt back to normal, you're getting me two water bottles and a muffin. Chocolate." I decide on the flavor impulsively, and Shawn doesn't answer, just staring at me with an awkward silence following.

Subconsciously, I knew I was being a bitch. But at that point nothing in me wanted to hold the brakes anymore.

"I don't have any money with me." I speak again, and he sighs, then walking towards the counter.

Did I have money? Yes. But was I still going to make Shawn pay? Yes.

"Maria!" He calls out, and a split second later the old woman is back, a grin on her face as she greets Shawn.

As he orders, getting what I wanted and also a coffee, most likely for himself, I grab a pile of napkins from the table next to me, drying myself off, then putting the rest of the napkins on the floor, stepping on them and cleaning up the shallow puddle Shawn created.