Shawn Mendes Imagines

Photoshoots

I sat in my director chair, eyeing the gorgeous models in front of me. They were tall and skinny.
    I was talking to one of them, her name was Sandra. I felt like I was 2 feet high compared to her 5'8 figure.
    My aunt was recently hired as a designer at Dior. Yesterday one of her models quit over some big hoo-ha, so she begged me for my help.

  Ever since I was born, my aunt used to make me prance around in her dresses and make me model for her.
I was in college and modelling was now kind of my side career.

  I tightened the fluffy coat, feeling slightly insecure. I mean, I did brands like Zara, or H&M, never had I ever modelled for a brand as big as this so I was rather nervous.

  "Beautiful, Georgia...now get off my set!"  The photographer yelled. I shivered.

   Did I mention that the legendary, horrible, talented, narcissistic, Anton Vermano was the photographer?

  Georgia hurried of set in her 6-inch heels. I looked down at my strappy black ones and gulped. I was going to fall on my face and humiliate myself. I knew it.

I was modelling the winter collection so, for now, I was just a silent observer.

"Why isn't he here! I call people here to model! Not to be late!!" He yelled at his assistant. I pitied the guy. I've spent about 2 hours with the man and I am so done with him. God only knows how he deals with it.

Anton flipped his snow tipped hair (yes, he was that guy) and walked toward the snacks. I passed his assistant a small smile as he walked by.
My gaze followed him, "So, I have a surprise for you," my aunt jumped out and scared me.

"Jesus, aunt Y/A/N! DON'T DO THAT!" I screamed as she laughed in my face. After 10 min of her hysterical laughter--honestly it was not that funny-- she poised herself.

"I have a--" she was cut of when the door literally burst open. You could see girls screaming outside the door and a curly brown haired boy waving and throwing the flying kisses at his fans. I watched intently.

Just from the back, I could tell that he was gorgeous. I started waiting for him to turn my way. A shorter man in glasses and a sweater pulled Mr.Goodlooking inside while his security guards shut the doors.

The short man looked slightly familiar but I could place it until curlyhead turned. I eyes bulged out of their sockets when I saw who it was.

Shawn Mendes.

It was no secret I loved his music. My Instagram feed was memes, Shawn, food, and puppies. He was looking around a bit overwhelmed at the photographer and the 6-foot models and the crazy assistants.

I know because the look on his face was exactly like mine when I first walked in. Scared, yet excited.

"Surprise," my aunt giggled. I forgot she was standing right there.

"Now close your mouth, and wipe away that drool!" She chuckled.

I laughed nervously and licked my lips. My makeup artist watched me and was clearly pissed cause this was the third time she would have to redo my lips. She put on the dark red colour and glared at me before walking away.

"Winter!" Anton yells.

That was me. He called me winter. It wasn't my name. I guess he's calling me after the collection I was doing.

He briefed me on the setting and gave me direction and blah blah. I ended up standing on a glass staircase holding the coat staring into the distance. He added some fake glasses to the mix as well.

This time I pushed my hair to one side, held the coat, held my head high and my lips slightly parted.
(A/N: the picture above)

Shawns POV