#too canadian to get actual tickets so this is our consolation prize | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marlahey · 6 years

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we stumbled in the dark; i knew we’d be alright (part two)

a shawn mendes rpf fic rating/warnings: still t and tame; references the death of ellie/ava’s parents. more misc notes: please ignore my total disregard for ontario’s educational system. and that this timeline is entirely made up and intentional vague, though I will try my best to maintain some kind of sense. for the first time in ages I can see almost all the major moments of this story, so I promise I won’t drop it. although I do want to take a poll: shorter, more frequent updates, or longer chapters with longer waits? shoot me an ask if you care. pretend I didn’t forget to give shawn an opening act it’s fine. happy album drop day! come cry with me about it. first person to spot a reference to one of my favourite films of all time gets a prize; i’ll also be tagging this and any asks/updates with wsitd for your future reference! if you want to leave comments in that tag that would be amazing.

read part one here.

ottawa; then “Are you sure you can handle this?”

Ava’s expression is dubious at best as she watches you tap a restless and awkward rhythm on your jeans. By some miracle you managed the four and a half hour train journey from Toronto without bursting at the seams or spilling the beans to Hannah: your sister’s new PA gig she’s been hiding for months is for Shawn Mendes. You’re sitting in Shawn Mendes’ dressing room, waiting for him to finish last-minute level checks.

Your sister had handed you floor tickets. “Is it weird that I normally tune out his shows?” she’d asked, as she picked you up from the train station. “I usually have so much to do. I figured if I was going to treat you, I may as well you know, experience it properly myself.” “You’re asking me that as I haven’t spent the last four hours listening to his voice,” you reply. “Is it also weird that I feel like I might self-combust any second now?” Ava rolls her eyes. “Remind me to start restricting your caffeine intake if this works.” This is this meeting. You, Shawn, Ava, Andrew. Shawn’s manager (and presumably Shawn himself) are going to pass judgement on whether or not you can manage yourself as a normal person and not freak out in the presence of an international pop star only a year and half older than you. Your sister was very clear: you’d finish high school at a distance before you could even set foot in a stadium for sound check, any and all social media would have to stop completely, and– “I know you’re a responsible kid,” Ava had begun when the arena was finally in sight and you’d craned your neck to see the top. It seems unimaginable that a single voice could fill the entire thing. “And Shawn’s not that sort of guy–” “God Ava, what is he going to do, proposition me?” “I’d literally murder him.” You choke on a laugh, but it fades when your sister looks at you, her eyes serious. The eight year gap between you feels impossibly wide, sometimes. “I know you, and him, and something like that wouldn’t happen. But that doesn’t mean that you won’t...” She makes a face, as though she knows the words she’s about to utter are ridiculous. “catch feelings.” You can only stare at her. “If you think that I’m going to walk around like some lovestruck–” “No.” Ava’s parked now. She reaches across the console for your hands. “No, you’re not. But you’re young, and so is he. You’re both only human.” You can read your sister’s face well. There’s an apprehension there that you haven’t seen in many years. Your throat feels tight, suddenly. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” “Isn’t it your job to make sure he does’t get hurt?” You ask, going for levity, but failing when your voice cracks a little. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re out of a job, either. You love being on his team.” “It is my job,” Ava concedes, but her hand is cupping your cheek, her fingers threading into the red strands of your hair that your mother gave you. “But you’re my family. You’re always going to come first.” She smiles. “Besides, you’re a catch. What’s to say Shawn doesn’t fall in love with you first?” You snort. “As if.” You were certain, in the car, just as you are certain now, moments away from being in the same room as Shawn for the first time. You can’t love someone you don’t really know, and you’re pretty confident in your ability to separate your admiration for his music (and his objectively stupidly handsome face) from actual feelings. You’d have to know Shawn to have those kind of feelings. And you can’t imagine how orbiting the periphery of his life on tour is going to change that. So it’s fine. You’re totally fine. “I’m fine,” you tell Ava. She raises an eyebrow at you, but it’s more teasing than anything. You promptly stick out your tongue at her, which is of course the moment that Shawn chooses to open the door. It’s been a while since you’ve blushed past the colour of your hair. Shawn smiles; if that’s laughter behind his eyes, he’s as truly Canadian as you and doesn't give into it. “Hi,” he says, “I’m Shawn.” It’s the most normal opening interaction from someone who is so not normal that you have to bite down a hysterical laugh. Shawn’s smile only widens as he looks from Ava back to you. “I’ve interrupted something, haven’t I? A sister thing. I’ve seen that look before. Aaliyah’s friends always made fun of me.” “I doubt they do that now,” is the first thing you manage, having finally unstuck your voice. You’re not sure, but what looks like a faint blush colours Shawn’s ears. You just embarrassed Shawn Mendes. Two things happen at once: you feel badly, and you realize. Just a boy. “I’m sorry,” you blurt. “You’re fine. You aren’t um, interrupting. In fact, I’m probably interrupting because this is you know, your dressing room.” Ava clears her throat. You feel like melting into the floor. Shawn is just watching you, that maybe laughter still lingering. “I’m Eleanor.” You wince. He notices. “Not a fan of your own name, huh?” “No one–” Come on, get it together. “No one really calls me that, anymore.” You don't know why you phrased it that way, even though it’s the truth. But you can tell already: Shawn is too polite to ask. Instead he glances at your sister. “Len and Lenny, right?” You didn’t know it was possible to be this embarrassed. “Most people call me Ellie.” You shoot a half-hearted glare at Ava, who just shrugs in a what do you want from me? sort of gesture. You turn back to Shawn and remember your resolve. “It’s nice to meet you.” His smile is gentler now, as if he’s trying his best to make you comfortable and you’re just making his job hard. Relax, god. He’s just a person, not Santa Claus. “I’m excited for the show,” you say, grappling for something concrete to talk about. “Thank you for the tickets.” Shawn looks so pleased that you momentarily lose yourself again. “No problem! Av has gone to exactly a third of a gig since we met, so I’m glad you’re here. She can actually experience it and I can finally know whether she hates my music or not.” Your sister doesn’t let anyone give her nicknames. You have to resist the urge to whip around and accuse her of violating a sacred sibling trust. He’s looking at Ava with such a teasing grin that you can’t help but smile. The knot in your stomach unfurls a little. Your sister, for her part, just swats at him with the badge dangling from her fingers. “Who wanted kombucha after the show?” Shawn’s mouth clamps shut at that. He raises his hands in surrender and your brain gets momentarily stuck: international pop star who drinks kombucha. Ava’s gaze is full of affection; it’s as familiar as it is strange. I know you, and him. “How’s school?” Shawn asks. You’re honestly getting whiplash from all these turns in conversation, but you manage to hold on. “Grade 11 right?” Just how much does he know about you already? You nod. “Busy,” you say, because it’s the truth and an easy answer to the most mundane part of being sixteen. “We had a fire drill yesterday.” “Really?” Shawn’s ability to look genuinely interested is baffling. “How long were you outside for?” “Like, forty-five minutes? It was the worst.” You don’t have to pretend to be slightly melodramatic. Hannah had started trying to tell your math teacher that he was violating her rights. “I didn’t have my phone.” “Oh man. That’s nuts.” Shawn then proceeds to launch into a story involving the boy’s locker room and the smoke detector at school. The reality of him as an eighteen year old boy is so jarring. It’s almost hard to focus on his words; all of this is so surreal. “...they were sure they were gonna get arrested. It was crazy.” As if he’d timed it, the man who could only be Shawn’s manager appears in the doorway. You catch Ava stiffen a little out of the corner of your eye and instinctively sit up a little straighter. You are a normal, responsible, non-hysterical young adult. Shawn, either oblivious to the sudden tension in the room or attempting to diffuse it, jumps to his feet. “Andrew, hey.” He turns towards you, as though you’re somehow already friends. “This is Ellie.” You extend your hand; Andrew looks at it a moment before accepting. You attempt to shake firmly. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Ellie.” “You too,” you say honestly, though your nerves probably betray you. “Thanks for having me.” Andrew looks from Ava back to you. “Has your sister filled you in on our discussion? That you might be joining us for this last leg of the North American tour?” You nod. You’re acutely aware of Shawn looking at you, sitting again, but you’re too nervous to actually look back at him and try to figure out what he thinks of this whole crazy thing. “You’re not going to miss school? Your friends?” Andrew asks, his tone conversational, but you feel the weight of the test here. "You sure you’re okay with spending all this time on a tour bus?” “We,” you start, swallowing past the pinch of fear that this is too personal to share, “We used to move around a lot. I’m pretty comfortable with it.” You throw an apologetic glance at your sister, who just smiles at you, nodding. Despite your fear of looking at Shawn, there is something magnetic about his presence. You can’t read his expression, but when you say, “And I’m actually fast tracked through University Prep courses,” his eyebrows fly up. “You’re finishing early?” he asks, sounding less surprised and more impressed. You allow yourself two seconds to bask in it and nod. “Wow that’s awesome.” Even Andrew seems placated. “That’s certainly impressive. Your teachers won’t mind if we pull you away?” “I’ve spoken to her school,” Ava interjects for the first time. “She’s set up to finish at a distance. I already have all the material for the rest of this year.” This is the first you’ve heard of that, but you figure it’s best to pretend otherwise. Just how certain was your sister that this...this idea out of a teen daydream was actually going to work? What are you going to do if Andrew says no? The silence stretches into something agonizing. It takes everything you have not to shift in your seat, before Andrew stands upright from his lean on Shawn’s chair. “Well it was nice to meet you Ellie.” You attempt to smile. “You too.” “Ava, could I borrow you? Shawn, I’ll see you in five minutes.” “Thanks,” Shawn says, but he’s looking at you again. Not breaking eye contact feels like another test. Your sister rises to follow her boss out and suddenly you’re alone in a room with someone you’ve followed through a screen for almost as long as you’ve had a phone.

Breathe. “I’m not making you nervous, am I?” You have to clamp down on another hysterical laugh. “Um, a little? Is that weird?” Shawn opens his mouth to speak, but you’re so horrified at yourself that you don’t let him. “Oh god I’m sorry–” “No, no please.” Shawn reaches out like he’s going to touch you and you can’t decide if that would makes this better or worse. “Don’t feel bad. I know...” He pauses, shakes his head a little, and leans back. “I know this is all kind of a lot.” His expression is so sincere, like he’s worried you won’t believe him. A blush you don’t even understand rises up your neck. “It’s not just you,” you admit, fiddling with the ring on your left hand, staring at the pearls. You’re sort of losing control of your filter and you can only hope it’ll eventually stop. “I mean, it is. Your music is amazing. You’re right in front of me but you don’t seem real.” You force yourself to look at Shawn now. He’s not laughing at your ridiculous sentiment; that small kindness emboldens and warms you both at once. There’s something almost open in his eyes, as though all he wants is to understand you. The words very nearly crawl back into your mouth, but you push them out. You want him to understand this, most of all. “I just don’t want to mess this up for my sister.” Shawn does lean forward then, so far that his knees nearly bracket yours. You have to pull back under the pretence of taking a breath just so you don’t accidentally touch him. His swallow tattoo stands out in sharp relief on his hand; it’s even more beautiful from this close. The magnet pull of him drags your eyes up, and Shawn’s face is suddenly incredibly serious; you almost forget to breathe out. “You won’t.” He says it with so much certainty that your throat tightens at how badly you want to believe him. “I know we just met Ellie, but Ava’s been with me for months now and I’m not letting her go without a fight. She’s just been absolutely amazing.” Do not cry in front of Shawn Mendes whatever you do– Shawn ducks his head a little to catch your eye again, that gentle, easy smile returning. “But you already know that.” He waits there until, by some miracle, you can smile back at him, and then sits up. “As for the me not being real part...” Shawn’s smile is still soft as he holds out his hand, as if for a high five. You stare at it, then at him. He just tilts his head, a go ahead, so you reach out. It takes all your concentration not to shake. You touch your fingertips to the top of his palm; you wonder if he can feel your pulse racing there. His hand dwarfs yours. You’ve never been so aware of how small you are. “See?” Shawn says, an almost tease in it now. You can only pray that one day you’ll stop blushing in front of him. “Definitely an actual person.” The door reopens; you promptly jump at least a foot. Ava’s vaguely alarmed expression does you both in. “Fuck Ava what the hell?” you gasp, and Shawn dissolves into peals of laughter. Pretty soon all those nervous giggles finally break free. “Time to go, Shawn,” Ava says, her confusion clear, which somehow makes it all the more hilarious. You clap your hands over your mouth to try to stop. “We’d better get down to the floor, Len. The doors open in three minutes and I am not getting crushed by a horde of teenage girls.” You stand to gather your sweater and your bag. And yourself, more generally. To your surprise when you turn back, Shawn is still in the doorway, waiting for you. “See you after?” he asks, glancing at Ava, who smiles at him in that particular way that has always reassured you, no matter what, since you were very small. “We will. I expect an amazing show if I have to stand for the whole thing.” Shawn grins, somehow a little cocky and a little vulnerable both at once. “You bet.” “Good luck,” you call, and as Shawn picks up his guitar that other reality, the one which he’s a stadium selling pop star, hits you all over again. “Have a good time!” With a wave, Shawn turns out of the doorway and disappears. Your knees are shaking. Ava wraps her arm around your shoulders as you finally reach her and steers you out. “You’re okay, kid. You did it.” She’s laughing at you a little, but you don’t care. “I can’t believe you left me alone in a room with Shawn Mendes.” “And you survived, which was the whole point.” You’re almost afraid to ask; thankfully your sister knows you well enough that you don’t actually have to form the words. “We're gonna try it out, okay? There’s three more stops on this Canada leg. You’ll come with us, then we get a week off before we go to the States. Thankfully your summer vacation works out, so you’ll stay at Hannah’s for that week.” “And then?” Ava waves and smiles at a security guard, dropping a Platinum lanyard around your neck, who nods at her and lets you pass through a door that leads out onto the main floor. “And then, either we’re getting on a plane or Shawn’s gonna need a new PA.” The certainty in Shawn’s face flashes through your mind. “Ava...” “Hey, hey.” Your sister pulls you to a halt at the metal barrier, where maybe a dozen other people are already congregating. People are streaming into the arena. The fact that they’re all here for a boy who’d been so kind to you just minutes ago is overwhelming. “Listen, I don’t want you to worry okay? I was going to take you to this show regardless. I just want you to have fun.” Ava pulls you into a hug; it feels like the first time you’ve been able to relax since she called you this morning with a train ticket in your email. You let yourself fall into her, inhaling the familiar smell of her shampoo. “He’s even cuter in person,” you mutter into her hair. Ava snorts. “Yeah, sorry. Should have warned you.” She takes your hand and pulls you forward, until you can wrap your hand around the cold metal that keeps everyone a foot or so back from the edge of the stage. “Ready?” Lights dim. The screams are genuinely deafening, but your throat will probably be as raw as everyone else around you by the end of the night. Ava grimaces. All you can do is laugh. Two hours later, your throat does hurt. You’re mildly afraid you won’t be able to speak. You can still feel the beat of the drums in your chest, behind your ribcage, inside your heart. You can’t stop smiling. Ava sneaks you carefully back into the depths of the arena and drops you off in Shawn’s dressing room, muttering about kombucha and rolling her eyes. And if you thought pre-show Shawn was cute, nothing prepares you for flushed and bright-eyed Shawn, who arrives just as you gingerly drop yourself on the couch. “Ellie, hey!” Words. Come on. “Shawn, hi.” You’re not sure what comes over you, but the giddy feeling still hasn’t gone away. “I just– that was amazing. You were incredible.” You’ve never seen someone smile as brightly as Shawn does when he’s onstage. Even though you’re not in the arena anymore, it’s still almost blinding to look right at. “Thank you. I’m so glad you had fun.” He glances around the room, as though your sister is hiding in a closet. “Where’s Ava?” You shrug. “Something about kombucha?” He laughs. “You must think I’m ridiculous. It’s delicious, I swear. And good for my voice.” You struggle with a smile, not wanting him to think you’re teasing. “What did your sister think?” You pause, just to watch him squirm. When he looks vaguely offended you can’t help but laugh. “She liked it, she did. Though she’d never admit it. She’s a consummate professional, you know.” Shawn nods seriously. “Of course.” “She likes Never Be Alone,” you say, looking at the door and lowering your voice as if you’re sharing a secret. His eyes glimmer with amusement. “You know that harmony you do? When everyone sings?” Just talking about it is giving you goosebumps. Shawn nods. “She teared up.” He grins, but beneath that you can see that he’s touched, too. You’re so endeared, all of a sudden; a voice in the back of your mind says, careful. You can see now why so many girls around you burst into tears the moment he stepped onstage. You let silence linger, until you can’t quite bear it anymore. “You can ask me, you know.” “Ask you what?” You can’t keep his gaze. “Why Ava has to drag me on this tour with her.” Shawn does that thing again where he ducks his chin to catch your eye. Eventually, you decide, you’ll be able to look right at him without having to steel yourself first. “You don’t have to tell me,” he says, so gently you almost can't pretend your throat still hurts from the show. “It’s none of my business.” You have to swallow before you can speak. “If this whole thing works out, we’re gonna be around each other all the time. I don’t want it to be weird.” There is too much kindness in Shawn’s expression as he waits patiently for you to say the words out loud. You have to look at his sparrow. “My parents um, my parents died in a car accident when I was eleven.” You take a breath. Then another. You can’t remember the last time you’d had to tell someone that, who didn't already know you as the poor orphan child with a nineteen year old sister who was so unprepared but who did absolutely right by you anyway. “Ava took care of you?” You nod. “Always has. She’s amazing.” It’s probably a measure of something, of how comfortable Shawn’s made you already, that you can smile at him. “But you already know that.” He chuckles. “You know, I have no idea if you can actually get kombucha here or not.” “She’ll hate you.” The thought is hilarious. You feel lighter already. “I usually give a pick away every show,” Shawn says, reaching back for his guitar and plucking the tiny red disc from the neck. “Do you think she’d still hate me if I tried to give it to her?” “Oh god, absolutely.” When your sister returns with a small case, Shawn drops to one knee and presents her with the pick. You laugh so hard your stomach hurts. Ava glares and puts down the drink, dragging Shawn to his feet with her free hand. “Get up, stupid.” “I’m glad you came, Ava,” he says, earnest and honest still, despite how his shoulders shake with laughter. “Consider this a token of my appreciation.” She looks from him to you, before plucking the pick from his hand. “This was clearly a terrible idea. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Ava beckons you. “Come on Lenny, we have to sneak you out before the mob hits the busses. Shawn, Andrew’ll come to get you in a few.” Shawn dutifully lifts his hand in acknowledgement and hands you your sweater. “I’ll see you soon then?” he asks. You suddenly remember. Three more stops. “Yeah.” It’s so unreal. And yet, here you are. “See you soon.” (part three)

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #wsitd #mine: fic #FINISHED BEFORE THE ALBUM DROP #COME CRY WITH ME IN HALF AN HOUR

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