You and Me, Forever

Met Gala

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                      >>credit to owner

ik haliey's married and shawn is nothing like how he's described but let's just prETeNd ...

_

"I can't believe you're doing this," he snapped, his irritated voice coming out of the receiver and causing Camila to sigh. She lifts a hand to her throbbing forehead exhaustedly.

"Shawn, I have exams. I can't fly out to the MET gala, right now."

"After all I've done for you? I'm always there for you, and you can't come to this event I've been anticipating for months?"

She bites back on the sharp reply itching for release at the tip of her tongue. He had missed so much. He was out touring the world for months on end, missing her shows and events. But, she knew it would be mean to point out something like that. Camila didn't even really mind, although she missed him, most days. Because she knew he really couldn't be there. Just like she couldn't, right now.

"Baby, I really wish I could," she softened her voice to try and reason with him. "but I—"

"Save it, Camila," his low voice spat, the next half of his speech even quieter, but just as contemptuous and conflicted: "I can't believe you're my girlfriend.."

And he hung up.

"Shit," Camila curses, flinging her phone over to her bed in exasperation—and checking for its wellbeing, because she wasn't exactly very rich after student loans had annihilated her.

Guilt and desperation churned in her chest, but she shook it off. Sighing once more, this time in defeat, she suppressed her oncoming migraine and turned to the disorganized Anatomy notes and paraphernalia above her.

.

"Every. Single. Time. I get into doing some work," she mumbled angrily at her vibrating phone. The screen kept lighting up, every few seconds. After looking at the time, she shoved her notes aside and curled into the fetal position with the device. It had been long enough for her to take a break.

Hailey Baldwin and Shawn Mendes Together at The Met Gala

Oh.

She blinks back in surprise, and pushes down the uncomfortable prickling in her chest. It's probably nothing. Shawn's kind like that. And she trusts him.

Determinedly, she scrolled past.

Old Flames Rekindled? Mendes and Baldwin Attached By the Hip

And there were more.

With tightly pursed lips and betraying, wet eyes, she hesitantly tapped on the video that came along with the tabloid.

"How are you two doing tonight?" The interviewer asked joyfully to the pair. Hailey smiles a striking smile. She's wearing an orange dress that accentuates the willowy tallness of her body. Shawn's smirking, too.

She looks stunning, Camila thinks, crestfallen. Because she knows that smirk. She's been on the receiving end of it long enough to know he was flirting. With someone else. At the MET Gala, while his girlfriend was at home, miles away.

"Fantastic," Shawn drawled, his speech just slurred enough to let her know he was tipsy, if not already drunk. His hand dropped to Hailey's back, and Camila's breath caught in her chest. "Wouldn't rather be here with anyone else."

Dropping her phone, she choked back a sob, immediately shushing herself and trying to remind herself that maybe she was overreacting. However, all she could replay in her mind was his last words to her, the ones she'd been trying to block all this time— "can't believe you're my girlfriend."

Or: can't believe I love you. When there's models like Hailey, who are pristine and stunning and set for the life he must crave.

The time that video was uploaded was a few hours ago, and she has to muffle her cries once more, staining the pillow she's landed on with more warm tears. The intrusive thoughts of where he might be now hold her hostage. Alone. Or with her?

And with her where?

Sniffling slightly, Camila hiccups as her phone lights up, once more.

Shawn

She picks up, but stays silent, eyes burning as they fight to stay open and stare blank at the wall in front of her.

"Camila?" He calls in concern, which quickly morphs into anger, "I've been texting and leaving you missed calls for ages. Why haven't you been picking up? I was worried sick. You should think about someone other than yourself."

"Sorry," she speaks, voice wobbling slightly with emotion, although she tries to keep it blank. "That you have to put up with me. I'm so selfish. I can't believe you, Shawn Mendes, have a low girlfriend like me. When there's women like Hailey Baldwin in the world. Women who you'd rather have with you, and no one else. So much better than I am. I'm sorry I'm such a chore, and that I can't follow you around when you leave me for ten months at a time. I really hope you find someone you deserve."

"Camila—"

She hangs up, and promptly switches her phone off. Wiping her face with the sleeve of her (his) sweatshirt, she sniffles loudly and is, for the first time in months, grateful that there is distance between them.