Lyrics

Three Empty Words - Shawn

A calculated risk, that's what I decided it was. I was sending the same box to a bunch of other artists, at some point. She just happened to get hers first. And if she didn't message me or call me about it then I'd assume that Señorita was off.

I hadn't heard from her since she'd sent me those two lines of lyrics. I'd seen on her Instagram that she was signing off to go back into studio, but it couldn't be that bad could it? My confession in Berlin couldn't have shaken her that much, could it? It had been nearly three weeks...

"You're playing with fire here Shawn" Andrew warned me when I asked him to send the first box to Camila ahead of the other artists. "You're playing with Latin fire, no less. I hope you know what you're doing..."
I simply kissed the box for good luck and handed it to him with a grin before heading to the gym. Recording the single had been a breeze, I'd known exactly the direction I wanted to take it and had snuck in some sessions in between my tour sets, choosing to record some parts in the UK. I felt exhilarated by the whole experience, like nothing could break me.

But I didn't get the call from her about the song.

Not for about five days after the box was delivered.

My mood was turning progressively sourer and more depressed by the day. I thought I had figured this out, started to understand what made us work. Turns out I didn't know anything.

Eventually, Andrew started putting pressure on me to get the rest of the boxes out. I knew he was right; I nodded my response to him, feeling overwhelmed and upset by Camila's lack of reaction to the song, the song I had written for her.

Ten minutes after my go-ahead to Andrew, I was walking to my hotel room when I got the call I had spent days obsessing about.
"Mila?" I breathed in relief as I answered
"Hello?" I heard her nervous, broken voice ask on the other end of the line, "Shawn?"
My heart broke in that moment. I regretted it, putting her through this. How could I? How could I not consider the effect it would have on her.
"Mila, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I didn't think it through, I should have told you, asked you." I stuttered down the phone, feeling emotional and disappointed in myself.
"Shawn, I don't know what to say..." she cried. She was crying because of me! What was I thinking?!
"You don't have to say anything, I can stop it. You have been the only one who's heard it so far, I can recall the track, I honestly don't know what I was thinking..." Panic was flooding my system, I didn't even know if I could do something like that but if it meant her hurting less, I would make it happen.
"'No you won't!" She said, a hint of defiance coming out "You can't..." She sniffed sadly. "Because, I love it. I love the song! It's going to be incredible, it's such a fucking good song Shawn Mendes..." she sobbed.
I was rooted to the spot, standing in an empty hallway. What could I say next? I had no idea what was happening, all I knew is that I'd caused it.
"I'm sorry" I whispered again, still at a loss for words
"Don't ever apologise for how you feel Shawn, don't you dare." She sniffed again, "This is exactly what you needed to do, and I respect that. I'm just confused as hell, that's all." I could hear her gaining her strength back, hear that strong-willed Latin fire creeping back in, despite the hurt I'd caused.
After a few moments of quiet, with nothing but my short breaths and her sniffing, she whispered, "Release the song Shawn. Release the song and we'll talk about it when I'm back." She qualified, assertive.
"Back from where?" I asked too quickly.
"Matthew has booked me a surprise trip to Italy. I wasn't on good form in Dubai a few months ago, so he wants to take me to Italy for a fresh start." She explained.

I could feel my blood boiling and she probably knew it. Suddenly I felt ashamed of myself, I knew she had a boyfriend, she'd never lied to me about Matthew, I had just l let my emotions get ahead of me and forced this on her.

"Ok." I sighed, "Ok, we can catch up when you're back." I choked out the words, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. I failed spectacularly.
"Shawn, I'm so proud of you." She whispered; I could feel tears forming in my eyes. "But this is really difficult for me, I hope you understand." She finished.
All I could think to say back was, "I do, thank you. Have a wonderful trip, you deserve it." Before I hung up and sank to my knees in the hotel hallway.