Professional Publicity Stunt » Shawn Mendes✔️

twenty-seven: please don't leave.

It absolutely takes no time at all for the paparazzi to catch up to us.

On our second day here – we finished the first day with shopping for clothes (and bathing suits) and grabbing dinner before checking into the beach house Andrew miraculously got us – we venture to the beach. I picked Indian Shores, which is a little south of Clearwater Beach, because it's less crowded. I thought being away from the chaos that is Clearwater, we'd get a little more privacy, but that quickly proves itself to be false.

Shawn tugs on my hand, getting me to turn around so our backs are to the paparazzi. Since we're on a public beach – granted, it is a Wednesday, so no one is out here – the paparazzi can take pictures however and wherever they please.

Even if it is invading someone's privacy.

"Do you want to go back to the house?" I hear Shawn ask.

I shake my head. Even though it's right behind us because we haven't walked far from it, I would like to try to enjoy my time here. "Do you wanna swim?"

"Swim?" He chuckles. "I mean, we can. That is why we're here."

I turn to give him a smile. "I see a sandbar out there. It's far enough out they'll have to move closer or get in the water to get a good shot of us."

His smile widens. "Race you?"

"Oh, you're on."

I take off in a full sprint, the water splashing up around us as we run. As we get deeper, I turn and splash water on Shawn, trying to deter him, but all it does is make him laugh and try to splash me. At one point he gets close enough that he picks me up, carrying me a little before dropping me without any hesitation.

When I come back up for air, I splash water directly in his face. "Asshole."

"I know, I feel bad," he chuckles, holding his arms out for me to hug him. I do. But not before launching at him to knock him down into the water. "Okay," he laughs, wiping his face. "I deserved that."

"You sure as hell did," I nod. "Still up for the sandbar?"

He turns around, seeing the paparazzi coming down over the hill. He shrugs. "I am if you are."

"We're close," I grin, holding out my hand. "Come on."

We have to swim the rest of the way, the water finally too deep for us to walk – I prefer to swim. But reaching the sandbar is completely worth it.

I climb up on top of the little island, grinning when Shawn makes it, standing beside me.

"I didn't think we had gone that far out."

"It's beautiful, right?"

"And hilarious," he adds, pointing to the now frustrated paparazzi. I knew they wouldn't risk coming into the water for a better shot because of the risk of dropping their camera and losing everything.

"That was fun," I breathe, glancing down at the water. "Hey, look." I point down at the school of fish swimming by, their bodies glistening in the sunlight. "I used to try and catch them when I was younger."

"Did you?"

"Hell no, they're slippery." I pause, giving him a smirk. "I did catch a blue crab once."

His eyes widen. "You didn't."

"I did," I nod. "I was seven? Apparently it ran across my feet so I screamed and picked it up."

"Of course you did," he laughs.

We look back up, seeing the paparazzi leaving the beach and shaking their heads.