Shawn Mendes Imagines

Broken Glass

"I'm telling you man, you gotta meet her."

Shawn rolls his eyes, pulling his sleeves up so that the tattoo on his forearm peeks out halfway.

Unbuttoning the top three buttons of his button up shirt, he runs a hand through his messy hair, body pressing against the couch as he takes a sip of his beer.

"If she's that fucking great, why don't you date her." He counters. Ian raises his hands in defense, eyes widening as he stares back at his friend.

Shawn was just a little bit annoyed. All three of his closest friends had spent the past week gushing to him about some girl, one that they had no interest in dating themselves, but wanted to set him up with.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't touched that his friends were trying to do something nice for him, especially after what had happened with the last girl that he liked. It turned out that she'd used his affection towards her to further the modelling career she dropped out of college to pursue, what a shocker.
"You know i'm already talking to Danielle. Listen," Ian sets his bottle down on the table, pausing the video game in front of him as he leans forward to talk to Shawn, "If I wasn't absolutely sure she wasn't a horrible person, i'd never have brought her up to begin with."

Shawn narrows his eyes skeptically. He did have a lot of time on is hands now that his press run and festival tour had ended, and it would be nice to have inspiration for a few songs.
"Shawn, she's literally your dream girl. She wants to learn guitar, she's really into art. Doesn't read any tabloids, has no social media so she's not some shallow, self absorbed girl trying to use you for followers." Ian sternly lists all the reasons Shawn should follow his words.

Shawn raises an eyebrow, almost as if he's non-verbally telling his friend 'go on...'.

"When I told her I was friends with you, she asked who the hell you were." Ian laughs, cheeks a little flushed at the many beers he'd downed in the past few hours. He would be lying if he said he didn't take advantage of the comfort of Shawn's condo, and the fact that the kid restocked all of his stuff almost every day.

While Shawn ponders on the subject, Ian unpauses his video game and continues shooting bullets at imaginary characters on the screen of the TV. The front door opens, and two boys come rushing in, bodies headed straight towards the bags of chips on the table in front of Shawn.
"You're blocking my view, get out of the fucking way." Ian complains, pushing at Brian's shoulder as he purposely slows down his dive at the ruffles on the glass table.

"You all seem to be productive." Matt sarcastically remarks, a snapback on his head as he grabs the bag of cheetos. Brian disappears into the kitchen to grab a beer for himself, and Matt makes himself comfortable next to Shawn on the large, italian leather couch.

"Contrary to your belief, we were being productive." Ian counters, eyes still glued to the TV as he multitasks between talking and gaming.

"I was just telling Shawn here that we've found his future wife. And he was just agreeing to go out with her." Ian tells Matt proudly. They'd all been trying for the past week, but Shawn had either been too tired to listen, or too shit faced to remember.

"I haven't agreed to anything yet." Shawn sterly clarifies, although he knows in his mind that he's definitely going to give it a shot. He trusted his friends, and he knew that they wouldn't just be setting him up with any girl who was going to fuck him over like the rest had.

"Well you should." Brian appears, two opened beer bottles in his hand as he hands one over to Matt, who's seated on the other side of the couch. Ian dodges around Brian's arm as shooting sounds bounce out of the stereo system.