weak | S.M

7

It's been four days since my last encounter with Mr. Mendes, and it's been...hectic.

I've been working day and night with writing his raportage. So far, it's looking well. Shawn gave me clear instructions to not hold back, so that's what I've been doing. I've never written an article as raw and as intense as this one. I've also never been as dedicated to a work as I am to this one. It's...new. Refreshing. Scary.

My plan was to finish it by the end of the week, but I can't seem to get it done. I still feel like something's missing.

The phone next to my computer snaps me out of my thoughts and I drop the pen I'm chewing to answer it.

"Claire," I say into the line. It's quiet on the other end.

"Hello?" I try again.

"Hi, sorry." Shawn replies. I feel my smile growing as I hear his voice. "I was taken aback for a second there. Do you always answer your phone like that?"

"Like what?" I ask.

"Like... professional, I don't know. It doesn't matter. Anyway," Shawn brushes off, "How's the article coming around?"

"Good, good." I answer him as my smile grows wider. I don't know why I'm smiling like this, but I also can't seem to stop.

"Yeah?" He asks. He sounds excited.

"I'm actually very happy with what I've got here. I've never written an article as pure as this one, it feels..." I contemplate what word to use.

"Liberating?" Shawn finishes for me. I nod but then realize he can't see me. "I feel the same way, and I haven't even read the article. I just have this feeling it'll come out exactly the way I wanted it to." I feel a small churning in my chest at his words. I bite my pinkie and glance down at my bitten nails.

"Don't say that," I say and shake my head. "But I really do hope you'll love it."

"I know I will," He answers me confidently. For some reason, his words brings me comfort. I frown as I realize that the whole time talking to him, I've been smiling like an idiot. Get a grip, Claire.

"So, what are you up to right now?" Shawn asks me.

"Writing. Something feels off, though..." I tell him honestly.

"With the article?" He asks and I nod. Shawn seems to sense my answer as he continues, "What is it?"

"I don't know, I just feel like something's missing."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Maybe you'd know if you read it."

"Well, I have time now. Where are you?" He asks me. I glance at the time. ten-fifty pm.

"Home. But Shawn, it's almost eleven pm. I don't think it's a--"

"I'll be there in twenty minutes." He says and hangs up. I put my phone down and get this sudden feeling in my stomach. Something about this feels wrong.

It's fine, I calm myself. This is just like a late night shift with a colleague. - Just two individuals, working together. Nothing else, nothing more.

Nothing more. A curse of thrill and anticipation fills me and I have to scold myself for feeling this way. It's just work, I remind myself.

I now realise it's not Shawn I don't trust. It's me.

***

"Took you long enough," Shawn jokes as I open the passenger's door. My hair is wet and sticks to my neck as I quickly get inside the car. I exhale a sigh of relief as I get hit by the warm air conditioner.