Personal Chef

Chapter 36

The European leg of the festival tour started off on a slightly sour note when I realized Shawn and I couldn't sit together on the long cross-Atlantic flight because people might take notice. Shawn sat with his body guard and I sat with Andrew. I'd grown quite fond of the manager, so this wasn't miserable. I missed my boyfriend, though. A flight was the perfect opportunity for snuggles. Instead I had to settle for texting him.

Shawn was two rows ahead of me so all I could see was the pouf of his hair when he was sitting upright. I started out sending a photo of his hair that I'd edited to add in several spiders. He sent back a picture of my ass that he'd taken when I was walking in front of him in the airport. I sent a pic I'd taken of him sleeping on the couch a few weeks back with his hand holding his junk. He sent a pic of the chocolate cake we'd made the time Andrew had been over. I was distracted for several moments remembering what he'd done with the frosting.

This back and forth went on for a bit until we both got bored. I decided to try to sleep, and thankfully I was successful. When I woke up, there was only an hour left in the flight. I opened my phone and looked over the itinerary. Five shows over two weeks with some down time in between. I was excited and nervous for what was ahead. Touring was so unfamiliar to me. I'd watched hours upon hours of clips of Shawn performing. That part of it I understood. It was the craziness of him being a celebrity that I wasn't prepared for. He'd told me about the long lines of people outside his hotel and the hours spent taking pictures with his fans. He was such a private person; didn't it wear on him?

I got my first taste of seeing Shawn in celebrity mode when we landed in London. We'd flown home together from Los Angeles, but no one knew about that flight, so the fan interaction had been nothing. As we entered the baggage claim area at Heathrow, there were hundreds of fans waiting. Shawn's body guard stepped into action and tried to arrange a line. Andrew stood by Shawn, and I stood apart so that I wouldn't attract attention. I watched for an hour as Shawn took pictures. Eventually I got tired and took a seat. Andrew found me later and beckoned me to follow him to one of two waiting cars. I was with Andrew and Shawn was in the first limo.

"That was nuts," I said once we started driving.

"It might be worse at the hotel," he warned me.

And it was.

Because he was exhausted, Shawn opted to enter the hotel from an underground parking lot and not take any more pictures that day. Andrew checked us in and distributed key cards. Shawn went up to his room, guitars in tow, and I waited fifteen minutes before joining him. I found him sprawled out on the king-sized bed.

"Pictures of you are already on Instagram," he said as I flopped down next to him.

"But we weren't ever within ten feet of each other!"

"But you were obviously with my group. I'm going to have to make a point to mention that my chef is traveling with me in my interview tomorrow," he said. "And we might have to take separate flights."

I sighed loudly. A separate flight wasn't that much worse than not being able to sit with him, but it still sucked.

"So the only time we'll have together is in the hotel," I said, trying not to sound disappointed.

"Pretty much. It's kind of like how it is in Toronto."

"Except this is worse. We're in Europe and could be out exploring some of the greatest cities in the world, but instead all we'll see together is whatever the view from the window is."

Shawn pulled me closer so that my head was resting on his chest.

"We agreed we weren't going public until after the festival tour. Once it's over, we can start dating. Eventually I'll let the world know we're in love," he said.