𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐞 → 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐬 (𝐢𝐢)

fourteen [s]

tuesday,
april 23rd, 2020

SHAWN MENDES

I stand on a little wooden footrest that Tiff, my stylist, brought to my condo as she double checks my suit measurements. She's taking them to email to somebody in Italy who is in the midst of designing my Met Gala Versace suit.

I'm attending the Gala on the 4th, alone. No date. Andrew wanted me to bring a date, he was quite willing to organise something with a model of some sort, but I insisted I'd walk alone. Andrew accepts it now, and isn't pestering me about it anymore.

"Okay, great!" Tiff perkily says and I smile, stepping off of the stand, "I'll email these straight away. Your suit should be arriving around Friday."

"That quick?" I ask, eyebrows scrunched in.

It's dangerously near to the 4th, I even think it's too late to be just sending off my measurements.

"They already have the suit designed with the rough measurements I sent them. They're going to use your exact measurements to do some altercations, and then it'll be shipped over," Tiff explains, rolling up her measuring strip and stuffing it into her handbag.

"Oh," I hum, understanding now.

"So no date?" she asks sorrowfully with a pitiful look in her eye as I make my way to the kitchen area.

I retrieve two bottles of water, handing her one. She smiles gratefully and I shake my head, "Nope. I don't need one. I'd like to be recognised on the carpet by myself. Not just because I have some model on my arm."

"And is this about Trinity?" Tiff raises her eyebrows skeptically, taking a sip of her drink.

My entire team probably knows the whole story of Trinity and I by now. It's often the topic of conversation after I've had one too many drinks.

I shrug, "I dunno. Maybe? It's just... put it this way. If I was still with Jade, I wouldn't even ask her to be my date. I wouldn't want her to be, as awful as that sounds. It's like my mind betrays my heart when I think of anybody other than Trinity. She's the only woman in my heart, and I won't betray myself by walking with somebody I barely know."

Tiff smiles somewhat proudly over at me as she leans her elbows on my kitchen countertop, "I didn't know you back when you were fond of breaking hearts," she starts and I scoff a chuckle, grinning, "but I can't help but think you've changed enormously since. Even I want Trinity to notice that. Is that crazy? That I want her to give you another chance, even though I don't know her."

I chuckle again, "That is a little crazy, but it doesn't mean I don't agree. I hope I can make her see how I've grown without overstepping. Tiff... I've been thinking, and I want her to read this letter I wrote her."

"A letter?" she cocks her brows, "When did you write this?"

"Over the weekend when I was at the lake house," I say, "I want her to read it. But I don't know her address."

"You know where she works," the short girl points out.

"Yeah," I breathe, "but that feels too... formal. There's no intimacy. If you saw this letter... it's full to the fucking brim with intimacy. She needs to read it when she's not at work. I don't know how to go about this."

"It's good that you're thinking it through," Tiff replies, "You're a smart guy. I'm sure you'll find a way. I assume she isn't attending the Gala, right? She's a journalist?"

"I don't see why she would, she doesn't do televised interviews as far as I know," I furrow my eyebrows, "Then again, I don't know much about her these days."

Tiff sighs, walking around the counter to where I stand and giving me a friendly, comforting hug. I exhale, wrapping my arms around my good friend. We stay like this for a few minutes before she escapes my grasp.

"I don't know what to say, Shawn. I do know that you'll find a way through this though," she hums, walking off to the couch to grab her handbag. She slings it over her shoulder. "I've got to head out. I need to email these measurements and speak with Anna about hairstyles for you. I'll see you the day we fly to New York, okay?"

Anna, Tiff, Andrew and I are heading to New York City for the Gala next week. I'm excited to see and meet all these celebrities that I'm a huge fan of, but at the same time I can't help but feel that the whole thing is purposefully making something small into something way bigger than it needs to be. I'm not even sure why the Gala exists. I don't care much about it, but Andrew insists it'll be good for my image. It'll apparently help spread my name and get me more out there. I suppose that's the upside if it can benefit my career.

I nod with a small smile, walking over to her as she grabs her leather jacket from the coat hook on the wall by the door. She offers a sympathetic smile and I embrace her again in a short hug.

"Please try not to stress."

I nod again, though she and I both know I never stop stressing when it comes to Trin. I wave her off as she leaves my condo, shutting the door after.

After Tiffany leaves, I change into a pair of gym shorts and a plain t-shirt. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and shove my feet into my Nike running shoes. I slip my phone into my pocket and step out of the condo. I lock the door before taking the stairs right down to the gym my complex offers. Since all residents have a free membership, I plan to put it to good use before touring. I want to bulk up just a little more. My arms are already quite muscle-thickened, but my abs need some work. So do my thighs.

The gym is quite empty when I get there. Nobody besides an older man and a middle-aged woman are working out. I immediately head straight for the treadmill to complete a thirty minute run before pursuing forty squats whilst holding a heavyweight dumbbell. I take a five minute break, sucking down some water. I then proceed to do half an hour abdomen workouts of all sorts.

When I'm finished, I'm sweating. My hair is damp and I have to repeatedly push it back as I run up the stairs to my condo. It's almost like another fucking workout considering I live on the top floor.

When I'm in home, I exhale exhaustedly before finishing my water. I then down another bottle, rushing to the bathroom to shower.

As I stand under the steaming water, I start to think about how I could possibly get this letter to Trinity in a reasonable way. Then I begin to think that I'm way out of line. I start doubting myself. Would she even want the letter? Probably not. I broke her heart. Why would she want to even give me another glance?

I sigh, shampooing before stepping out of the shower. I wrap a towel around my waist and brush my teeth. I towel dry my hair with a hand towel before hanging that up on the bathroom drying rack. I exit my ensuite, flicking off the light and heading to my walk in wardrobe to grab a pair of underwear.

As I'm rummaging through my socks and jocks drawer, I come across something completely different. I tug at the cotton material, unfolding a white hoodie. I frown confusedly, grabbing the shoulders and opening it out fully. I recognise the Champion logo and my throat immediately clogs up.

"Mm," I hum as she parts the kiss. My eyes feel hooded as I gaze up at her with nothing but absolute adoration swirling in my chest. "I missed seeing you in my clothes." I bunch the side of my white Champion hoodie that drowns her little frame and my greedy eyes wander down her body.

Fuck, I haven't worn this hoodie since she wore it that night in my hotel room. I kept telling myself it's because it smelled like her. I didn't want to overpower the scent. I lift the fabric to my nose, furrowing my brows and inhaling deeply. I gulp, hugging it close to my chest and hanging my head low as my lip quivers.

Not a trace of her smell is left on the hoodie.

Tears well in my eyes. Again. God, I'm so fucking weak. I've cried an unbelievable amount of times in the past month over Trinity. What is wrong with me? Why did I fucking touch, let alone look at another woman? We could be living together in New York. Or perhaps Toronto. She mightn't have taken the full time offer from People Magazine if we were together. Maybe she could've gotten a similar job here in Canada. We'd be so in love. And happy.

I desire to be happy with her again.

I desire to make her happy again.