Sleeping Beauty

Chapter 21

Shawn

I had to leave her. I had no choice. 

Why do I feel so guilty?

I saw her everywhere. The lady at security had the same dark brown hair as her. An old man in a wheel chair with one leg reminded me of her, of course. And the little girl kicking my seat behind me has icy eyes that you could get lost in. 

Everything reminded me of her. 

I couldn't call her. I didn't have her number. Stupid. I should've asked her what hers was. Now I have to wait until tonight. 

It was too long to go without her. I would call Dr. Allan and see if she was still with him, but I'm in this goddamn plane and can't call anyone.

"Mr. Mendes?"

I look out the window.

"Mr. Mendes."

She's down there somewhere.

"Shawn!"

I turn my head to the lady in the seat next to me. She's supposedly in charge of all the planning or something. I was told at some point, but I can't exactly remember the technicalities. "Yeah." I quickly rip an ear bud out of left ear. "What's up?"

"You need to memorize all of this..." She hands me a binder. I open it and find different versions of a diagram of a stage and sheets of music next to them with highlighted parts. She continues. "Before the plane lands. There's a layover in Atlanta. That should give you an extra hour."

"Sherry," I think that's her name, "Can't I just wing it?"

She stares at me like I'm crazy. For a second, I think I did mess up her name, but then she yells through a whisper. I've never been more terrified of a woman in my life. "Listen punk. I know you're too caught up in yourself to realize this, but this show takes hundreds of people in order for it to go smoothly. All of them put in backbreaking work. It takes extreme organization from everyone, whether they're mopping the floor or, " she pushes her finger into my chest, "Singing infront of everyone. It's not a one man show. I don't care if you believe it's all about you or not, but you need to memorize this, otherwise the painful, excruciating hours put into the next four months will be for nothing. You will become a huge disappointment to everyone working for this tour, your family, and your fans." She calmly sits back in her seat like none of that just happened and closes her eyes. A smile spreads across her lips. "There'll be a rehearsal as soon as we get there. You have six hours to memorize. Get to it."

I skim over the pages. How am I supposed to memorize a whole show in one day?

There's a diagram for each song I am supposed to perform. 15 different songs, all of which I have sang before and know all the music to. That's not the problem. Staged lines are written in tiny bubbles at certain parts of the stage. Different colored lines lead to all different angles of the stage. A paragraph on the side explains that the direction I'm supposed to go is in the order of the rainbow. First red. When I get to the end of that line, I stand there until a certain lyric pops up. Then I go along the yellow line and so on. 

Why can't I just wing it? 

I go through the book three times before I hear Sherry snoring next to me. Her arm is leaning over my arm rest so I get up and move to the empty seat next to the window. Looking out the window helps my head ache a little bit, but not a whole lot.

We're flying over what looks like farm land. I check my phone. It's been an hour and a half. My guess is we're in northern Mississippi. 

She's halfway across the country.

Not only does my head get worst when the thought pops into my mind, but my chest literally starts to hurt. I place my forehead on the plastic window and close my eyes. What was I thinking? There's no way I can go four months without seeing her.

121 days to be exact. 

I have to go through 2,904 hours before I can smell her skin and taste her lips.

It was simply unbearable. 

I stare out the window until the wheels of the plane crash against the pavement. I pick up the binder and page through it until we can get out. I slide past the blonde devil in a pencil skirt before I tap on her shoulder.

Sherry practically falls out of her seat. She quickly brings the back of her hand to her mouth and wipes away the drool dripping from the corner of her lips. Then she looks at me and seems to realize where she is, like she had forgotten. She smooths back her hair and says politely, "Did you memorize?"

I fake a smile back. "More than halfway through." I had actually finished.  All I had to do was memorize one diagram. They're all the same thing, they just start in different places so it seems like they're different. The lines were easy, all stuff I probably would've said anyway. Two of the songs were just sitting on a stool playing guitar, no choreography. The finale is just me walking around the stage singing "Life of the Party." There's supposed to be water or something so it looks like it's raining and then it's going to turn to snow or something like that. Too complicated for me to care.

She nods and pushes past me.

As soon as we get off, Sherry rushes to the bathroom. I get some pretzels from a small store and stuff them in my backpack. Then I pull out my phone and call Dr. Allan.

"Hello." His voice sounds muffled.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

He laughs. "Yeah. You're lucky you called now. I'm in surgery all afternoon. I'm on my lunch break now."

I run my fingers through my hair. "At 1:30?"

"The life of a doctor is crazy, man."

I crack a smile. "Hey, is America still with you?"

He doesn't speak for a little while. When he does, all humor is gone from his voice. "No. I dropped her off at the hospital about an hour ago. Her parents were about to take her home. She must be gone by now."

"Oh."

"But I can guarantee she has your-"

"Thanks." I hang up before he can say anything else.

I lay across a bench and close my eyes.

I wake up to the sound of whispers.

A girl. "Is that Shawn Mendes?"

"Oh my god!"

Squeals and shrieks.

I'm tapped on the shoulder. I pry my eyes open and for a second, I can't believe what I'm seeing.

A girl with brown hair and beautiful eyes is standing in front of me. 

But then I realize she's too young, only fourteen or fifteen and her hair is too light. It's not her.

"Can we take a picture with you."

I sit up and despite what I'm feeling, I shake my head and laugh. Fans always make me smile. She holds up her phone and her blonde friend jumps in the picture. I smile and hear the click when it's all over. 

"Thank you," they say at the same time. I nod.

I close my eyes, but open them when an image of America pops up. 

I open them and see the same girl I just took a picture with and for a second, I mistake her for America again.

I can't escape the fact that she's not here with me.