𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, shawn mendes

𝟣.𝟤

shawn mendes
04/02/18
8:54am
toronto, canada

"I don't understand why I can't just loan a normal suit, Andrew," I stress, my eyes scanning the familiar streets of Toronto for a good place to get coffee. "This all seems so unnecessary."

"Oh, god." Andrew sighs down the phone. "What have I gotten into, sending you to the met gala? You can't just show up in a suit without a label. It's your first time, Shawn. You have to break the internet. You're not going to do that in a loaned suit. You're going to do that in a Versini suit."

"Are you done with your lecture?" I snap, walking into a coffee shop on the corner from the address he'd sent me.

"Depends. Do you see my point?"

I scratch my neck, eyeing the menu on the wall for a drink I'd like. "Yes, fine. Whatever. You win."

"Thank you." Andrew says, the tone in his voice sarcastic. "I have to go, but I'll talk to you after the meeting."

"See ya." I press the hang up button, making eye contact with a bored-looking barista. "Can I have a cappuccino, please?"

He nods and leaves to make it, leaving me stood awkwardly at the counter. I look around the practically empty café, seeing a group of teenage girls in the corner. Normally I'd be up for some interaction with fans; but not today. It's too early and too cold and I'm already in a bad mood.

Luckily they don't recognise me, and before I know it my drink is being handed to me. I mouth thank you to the barista, in the middle of replying to a text from Brian about finding me a date for the met gala. 'not gonna happen' is my response, as it has been for the past month of him bugging me. No time, no patience for getting hurt again. I've always had a habit for picking girls that hurt me, the pain intensifying every time I get my heart broken. I had a feeling that next time, I might not recover.

I look out of the window onto the street, seeing a tall brunette girl walk out of the office I was supposed to be going into, and watching her as she makes a b-line for me, or rather the café. My heart skips a beat as my brain calculates that we're going to cross paths in the doorway. I can't allow my brain to form any words that might embarrass me in front of this incredibly, ridiculously beautiful girl, so I quickly move to the side to avoid spilling my drink all over her expensive looking outfit. Our eyes meet in an apologetic stare— on my part. She rushes away quickly, leaving me hanging in the doorway.

She possesses the kind of beauty that's hard to put into words, the kind that has lingering after effects which stay long after the encounter. The kind that, without even interacting, you can tell the beauty extends to their mind, too. I just wish I could experience it for myself.

My breath hitches in my throat as I catch one last look at her, making her way to the counter. She turns around and those eyes meet mine again, only for a split-second. It's one of those moments— you know you'll never see the person again, and it hurts.

My heart wants to turn around and introduce myself, but my brain wants to go and get this meeting over with. And because I've known the ever-rational Andrew for almost 5 years, my brain wins the battle and I walk across the road to the huge office building that the girl of my dreams just walked out of. Maybe not the girl of my dreams, but she could've been. If I'd just turned around.

"Uhm, I'm Shawn." I stammer to the receptionist, still reeling from the momentary interaction with the beautiful stranger, and praying she wouldn't have to remain a stranger no matter how unlikely it was that we'd meet again. "Shawn Mendes. I don't really know where to go, but I'm here about a suit. For the Met Gala."

She smiles excitedly, "Ah, yes. You're supposed to meet Francesco, the head of design. He's in a meeting right now, but in a few minutes he should be free."

"Do you know where there's a bathroom?" I ask, looking over my shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of the girl I saw before, to no avail. She points to the left hand side of the foyer.

"It's just over there." she pauses for a moment, briefly considering her next words. "I could take you, if you want?"

"It's only there." I smile politely, not really knowing whether to be creeped out or flattered by what I have to presume was an attempt to flirt with me. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

She doesn't respond and tucks herself back into her computer, making me feel slightly guilty. Still, I don't need her to follow me to the men's room.

Once I've done in the bathroom, I make my way up to whatever floor this Francesco guy is on. Reading each sign until I reached the one with 'head of design' emblazoned in capital letters and serif font, my mind continues to unexplainably race with thoughts of that girl in the café. I knock on the door and without thinking I open it, my mouth spilling words while my brain thinks about something else entirely. "Is this Fran-"

It quickly becomes apparent that I've interrupted a meeting. A meeting with the girl unknowingly in control of my thoughts, I discover once she turns around. Way to make an impression, Shawn.

"Shawn," The man behind the desk says. "Welcome." I nod and step forward to shake his hand in my incredibly sweaty and shaking one, all because of the presence of this girl. "We were just finishing up here, weren't we?"

He doesn't say her name. Typical. I impulsively decide I don't like him. She stands up and backs out, a different look on her face. "The designs?" She says, her voice smooth and beautiful with the hint of an accent, sending my heart rate even further through the roof. Francesco pulls out a cream art pad, a tag hanging off. I crane my neck to read it, hoping for some kind of clue to her identity. 'For Elizabeth, the best designer in the business.'

She takes the pad, thanks him and disappears. Maybe I'd never see her again, but I still had her name. And for now, that was enough to obsess over. Elizabeth.