Shawn Mendes Imagines

Interview Blushes

"Okay, first we're going to make a run down to the recording studio to record the acoustic version of Corey's song, then at noon we have a photo shoot downtown for M magazine, act sexy but innocent, it's kind of a magazine for twelve year old girls," Shawn's manager, Andrew, stood at the foot of your shared bed, listing off instructions and counting them with his fingers.

"Then you have lunch there, but after the shoot, since you don't want to spill mustard down your shirt or something. Then you have an interview with Zambio, then writing session at the label and after that I'm off to the airport so you can just chill until Switzerland."

Shawn, as you could tell, heard it all but didn't process a thing. He just nodded along.

"Wait- Zambio?" he finally says.
"That's like one of the most visited websites. . . ever."

Andrew nods matter-of-factly. "I know, so be careful what you say. You don't want anything published that will make you look bad."

You climb out of the edge of the bed and suppress a yawn, sulking across the carpeted hotel floor and locations your bag.

"Okay," Shawn says with a nod, still sitting criss-cross on the duvet.

"Cool, get dressed fast because we're already running late."

As soon as he leaves, Shawn turns to you, slowly giving you a lazy, sleepy grin.

"I'm too tired to do all of that," he admits. "I just want you to come back into bed so we can lie here all day, forever."

"Sounds like you've got a lot to do," you say with a sigh, smiling at his last comment and knowing you desired nothing more as well. But doing so would result in him being late, and that would mean Andrew having a heart attack.

"I'll be back in time to do whatever you want before Switzerland," he assures you, his eyes never leaving yours.

You groan. "Fine."

Upon saying that, he slowly walked towards you and kissed your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Before you know it, Andrew had sent a car for Shawn and he was out the door, telling you he loved you more than life itself before he climbed in the car and you didn't see him again all day.

He texted you to let you know where he was and what was going on though, and tried to ask what you were doing, too, but then he had to leave before you could have a real conversation.

You kind of hated that this is how it is now.

At around 4pm your phone buzzed. You eagerly reach across the hotel bed to grab it.

Zambio interview is being recorded for a quick commerical. Channel 34 if you want to watch, It read, from Shawn.

You read over it like ten times to make sure it was real before excitedly searching for the remote and switching it to channel 34.

"New pop artist Shawn Mendes Zambio interview coming up next," the reporter says, along with a brief picture of Shawn at some awards show.

Then, out of nowhere, a second one from a charity event the two of you attended, you in a soft pink silky dress, sequin purse cluthed between your fingers, your other hand clasped in Shawn's.

"That's me," you whisper to yourself.

After the commercial was finally over, you bite your lip, anxiously waiting for Shawn.

"What's up, its Shawn Mendes!"

You tense up at the familiar sound of his voice.

"Hey guys, we're here chillin' with Shawn," the interviewer says.

You pay close attention to all the questions that were being asked and how Shawn was answering. There weren't many questions you hadn't heard asked before, but since this was the first one to ever be aired on tv, it was important how he answered.

"So, Shawn, I've heard all kinds of dating rumors floating around about you and Y/F/N."

Shawn smiles a little.

"What's true and what isn't?"

"Um. . . what?" Shawn laughs awkwardly. "We're dating, yes. I'm very fond and protective of Y/N."

You smile.

"Why is that?" The interviewer follows up, now hooked and writing down everything he was saying. Shawn swallows, knowing you were watching. "Because I'm kind of, like, in love with her."

The interviewer gushes, her hand freezing as she looks up at Shawn, no longer writing.

"She's watching, isn't she?"

Shawn blushes again, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his cotton tee, his mind elsewhere. "Of course she's watching."

"I for one think you two make a very adorable couple," the interviewer compliments, his loud, deep voice echoing through the microphone that definitely was not a necessity for him.

Shawn was still blushing when he said, "I think so too."

You could feel your heart flutter, and you hadn't even realized that as the interview went on, you had moved to the edge of the bed, your chin in the clammy palm of your hand as your eyes glued to the screen.

They moved on to other topics, such as Shawn's new album coming out soon, his new music video he's been tweeting about, the fans, and the like.

As soon as the interview was coming to an end, the reporters doing their usual closing speech, Shawn looks directly at the camera and winks with his lazy eye, one hand curled beneath his chin.

And you wink back even though he couldn't see you, knowing full well that was meant for you.

*

A/N

Here's a code in case you're totally lost: Y/F/N (Your Full Name)

Also thanks for reading, it makes me happy when you press the star thingy.