𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, shawn mendes

𝟨.𝟫

aurora versini
09/06/18
9:23pm
london, united kingdom

It's done. I stand back and look at Shawn's dressing room, which in the hour I was allocated, I've managed to prepare perfectly. And it needs to be perfect. I planned everything on the flight, down to every single word I was going to say. But it's Shawn, and I know that as soon as I see him, all my plans will go out of the window.

"Shawn!" A voice calls, the handle of the door turning before I have enough time to hide. "Shawn? Are you in here?"

Andrew appears in the door frame, staring at me in confusion. "Aurora? What the hell are you doing here? What's all this? Did Shawn-"

"Uh, no. Not exactly." I reply, "Brian left the door unlocked, he gave me tickets and I'm gonna surprise Shawn and make it up to him and-"

"So Brian helped you?" I nod. "And he didn't tell me?"

"Well, I guess not." I say, "He didn't really help me, he just sorta gave me permission."

"What are you going to say to Shawn?" He asks.

"So much. If he'll listen, that is." I smile softly.

"Well, you've clearly put a lot of effort in." His face breaks into a grin, looking around the room. "You must really love him."

"I really do." I nod.

"Well, he's on in ten if you're wanting to catch his performance?"

"I'll be there. Don't say anything to him, will you?"

"I'll keep it a secret." He whispers, walking out. I smile to myself, praying that the night goes as well as it does in my plans.

I fix up some last minute details before I leave, locking the door behind me and attaching the key to my VIP pass. Excitement seeps in, just for the sheer joy of watching Shawn in his element- performing. He's told me time after time that he felt truly like himself when he was performing, and that the only other time he felt like that was when he was with me.

I smile at the endless memories, passing through security with ease (thanks to Brian and all his help) and making it to my spot in the audience. I was just to the side, away from the mob at the front row. My own little viewpoint, the best view in the house.

I don't have to spend long in my head before he comes out onstage, smiling that smile I've missed so much as he begins to sing. I could watch him forever, but the longer he goes without noticing me, the more I miss him. He's right in front of me, yet he's never felt so far away.

And then he stops singing, standing back and appreciating the crowd as he strums the instrumental. Then finally, his eyes meet mine and I smile up at him, watching as his face goes through emotions rapidly. He blinks twice before singing again, never not looking at me. Despite the hundreds of thousands of people in the stadium, it feels like he's singing just to me, as cliché as that sounds. I could only pray he feels the same way.

He sings There's Nothing Holdin' Me Back first, and then Stitches, but I can't even bring myself to sing along despite knowing all the words. I rest my hand on the barrier and I watch him, completely overcome with adoration. It's him. He's the love of my life.

"This is a new one, it's called Nervous." He begins, his smooth voice making my heart flutter. My song. I'd never heard him sing live. "And I can't sing it without saying this before. I know you're listening, so this one is for you. For making me nervous enough to write this song."

He doesn't say my name, but he doesn't have to. He looks right at me as he says it, a small smile creeping on his face. I smile back, dying to say all those things to him. It's killing me, seeing him so close to me and not being able to tell him how I feel. Selfishly, I pray that when I can tell him he forgives me, even though I know I don't deserve it.

He maintains eye contact throughout the entire set, only ever looking away for a few short seconds. It's as if he's afraid that if he looks away for too long, I'll disappear.

My nerves for the anticipated confrontation don't manage to dull my enjoyment of the show at all, and by the time he's finished Nervous, I'm able to sing along and fully enjoy myself. He spots me and chuckles, his microphone picking up the vibrations. A cheeky grin spreads across his face once he realises, picking up the song again.

"Thank you, Wembley!" He screams before I even acknowledge it's over, terrified of what awaits me. He walks offstage and I go in the opposite direction, desperate to beat him to his dressing room so I can complete the surprise.

Luckily I do, getting in there and sitting down just in time for him to open the door. I'm just comfortable, sat on the blanket I've laid out for us, my feet tucked underneath me.

The door swings open and he's standing there, effortlessly heavenly with his hair messy from thrashing about onstage for half an hour.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He speaks quickly, not giving me enough time to process. "In fact, don't answer that."

"What?"

I stand up, smoothing my yellow dress down before stepping closer to him. We're a foot apart now, his presence intoxicating. I look up at him, smiling sheepishly.

"Don't talk." He says. "I'm still really fuckin' pissed at you, Rory, and you're not forgiven."

I inhale sharply, taken aback as he grabs my hands and looks me in the eyes.

"Super pissed." He reiterates. "But I really, really just need to hold you again."

"Oh?" I let out the breath I've been holding, frozen as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to him. It's only when he squeezes me tight, lifting me off the ground and smiling softly as he places me back down, that I finally relax. "How long for?"

"Until I feel like I'm finally breathing again."

a/n;

i'm sorry it's shorter than usual but i low-key wanted to get this chapter out of the way so i can focus on the grand finale shsjsj, especially since i have a lot of preparation for school to do in the next few weeks. anyways, here's the penultimate chapter, i hope you're ready for the final!!!