Professional Publicity Stunt » Shawn Mendes✔️

thirty-three: the letter.

A/N: Again, not the last chapter, despite how it reads.

Dear Shawn,

When I first got the news that I was going to be your professional publicity stunt, I had no clue who you were. I had to look you up before I agreed to take you onboard.

I remember thinking to myself, "He doesn't need a fake girlfriend for publicity. He gets enough publicity as it is because he's just being himself." And I still think that's true.

You don't need a fake girlfriend for publicity. And you don't deserve a fake girlfriend, either.

You deserve something as real as you always are. In these short months that I knew you and spent time with you, you were never once putting on a façade. You were always, constantly true to yourself and authentic in every way imaginable, and I admire that. You deserve someone who can do the same.

You deserve to meet someone under normal circumstances like you talk about in your songs. In a coffee shop, at a party, on a hometown street. You deserve to have something authentic and organic, not a fake girlfriend your publicity team hired because you had a new album coming out.

You deserve something natural, not forced. You didn't deserve to be tricked into having me as your fake girlfriend, and as much as I enjoyed our time together, I will forever regret that first day when I never once asked if you really didn't want to do this. I knew you didn't like the idea and I knew you hadn't heard one word of it before you met me, and I'm sorry.

Because it's not right. You have the biggest heart and the kindest soul of any human being I have had the pleasure of knowing while on this planet, and I mean it, Shawn, I mean it when I say you deserve better.

You deserve to meet someone personally, through your personal life. Not through a publicity stunt.

More importantly, you deserve someone who knows what she's doing. I don't. At all. When I told you I had never been in a real relationship, I wasn't kidding. I've only ever known how to be a publicity stunt. I've never known anything else and I don't know how to know anything else. I don't know how to have a real relationship because I have no idea what that feels like.

But you do. And you deserve to have that. You deserve someone who isn't afraid of it all. And who will love you for who you are, not because you're a global star.

If you're reading this, then I've probably already gone. And I probably told you to wait until the end of the letter to decide if you hate me. So here is the end. You are free to make your decision and hate me for ever coming into your life.

It's okay if you do. I will never be able to hate you, but I understand if you can't do the same. (This is pretty awful of me to do, so if you need to hate me to feel better, please do.)

Don't send the check over to Sidney, but if you already have, then you'll probably see he sent it back. Don't try to send it again. I don't want any money. I just wanted to tell you this and to give you the explanation you deserve.

I'm sorry I couldn't give it in person.

Sidney has a breakup statement drafted that's pretty standard. He's probably sent it to Andrew now for you to look at. You can use it if you want, or don't. It's up to you. The breakup is up to you because I don't feel right handling it. I'll respect whatever you say, and I won't say anything until you do. If you say nothing, I'll respect that and say nothing, too.

And if you want me to delete any pictures of us or anything, you can let Sidney know. I'm giving him control of my social media accounts for now.

That's all I've got.

Sincerely,

Your Professional Publicity Stunt

Shawn folds the letter carefully in his shaking hands, the tears in his eyes showing no mercy and falling freely down his cheeks. He makes no move to wipe them away, not even as they fall onto the letter, blurring some of the ink.

Of all the things he expected you to explain in that letter, saying that he deserves something real - as if it didn't feel real when he was with you - was not what he was expecting.

There's a knock on the hotel room door, and then it opens, revealing Andrew. His face twists into a frown when he sees the state of Shawn, holding your letter and still crying.

The hug they share doesn't last long. Shawn doesn't want a hug right now, at least not from Andrew - no offense.

"Did she send the money back?" Shawn asks quietly. Even though you wrote it in the letter - and he feels bad for even thinking this, but he has to - he still wanted to be sure you were telling the truth.

"She did," Andrew nods. "And Sidney said not to send it again because she doesn't want it."

"Okay."

"Are you okay?"

"I don't wanna answer that right now."

"Do you want to look at the statement he sent over?" Andrew tries, thinking maybe if Shawn makes the breakup public and official, it'll take some hurt away.

But the younger shakes his head. "No. I'm not gonna say anything."

His manager gives him a strange look. "Can I ask why?"

"Because," Shawn clears his throat, thinking of one of the first things you would say all the time, one of the first things that made him think it was no longer a publicity stunt. "It's none of their business."

"Okay," Andrew nods. "We're gonna go have lunch soon. I'll...come let you know when we're leaving?"

"Okay," Shawn nods, his eyes dried now, but he still doesn't feel any better. He probably won't for a long time.

Andrew leaves him alone in his room - a little reluctantly, but it's only for twenty minutes - and Shawn stretches out on his bed, lying in the middle. He turns his head to the side, and the tears start again. The pillow still smells like her.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens up the text conversation he has with her.

>I don't hate you.

That's all he sends. Because it's all he can think to say. Yes, he feels awful and yes, he feels like it could've worked if she just stayed, but he can't hate her. Even in this moment when he wants to hate her, he can't.

+++

The text message comes through on Rylie's phone right as she's boarding the plane.

>Shawn: I don't hate you.

She smiles. It's a nice thing to know, even though he absolutely should hate her.

>Okay. Thank you.

He reads the message, but he doesn't reply.

And she sighs. That's it, then.