chapter eighteen
reveries
[shawn mendes]
-
"what do you fucking mean i can't quit?" anya shouts, in the small room of the backstage area in the arena, as andrew sighs loudly at her. "andrew, i don't think you understand, my boyfriend, was flirting with another girl, after we had a fight, regarding our actual 'break up'. how does any of that sound like a good reason not to quit?"

"anya this entire deal is complicated," andrew sighs again. "look, i can make a deal with you now, but there's no promises to what it will turn out to be."

"i'm listening." anya says, folding her arms, as my heart clenches.

"you continue dating shawn for the next year, get engaged at christmas time, and break it off in march. after that, you're done." andrew explains calmly, sitting down on the couch, next to anya, as i continue to lean against the wall. "you both don't even have to talk to each other. just make the public appearances when i ask you to, and everything should turn out okay."

"is that the only option you're gonna give me?" anya asks, her tone tired, and fully annoyed.

"you guys literally just need to make some public appearances, and that's it. but anya, you're gonna have to stay on tour, and you're gonna have to come to shawns birthday." andrew explains. "and shawn, you're gonna have to do something for anya's birthday on stage, since her birthday will be on the night of a show. and if you can, say something on stage tonight about her."

"why?" anya and i both blurt out, before looking at each other, and turning away awkwardly.

"you know, i'm starting to think that you two don't know the definition of dating, and being in a public relationship." he says to us sarcastically, making me roll my eyes.

"okay fine, i'll do that." anya says softly, standing up from the couch. "but as soon as all of this is over, that's it, right? there won't be any surprises, right? i'm so done with being played."

"anya-" i begin, but she cuts me off.

"i don't want to hear a word from you," she mutters, walking to the door, and opening it up. "thanks for hearing me out, andrew."

"no problem, have a good evening. we'll see you on the bus." she nods, walking out of the room, and shutting the door firmly behind her. it's almost a reflex reaction for me; as soon as she shuts the door, my fist hits the wall, and i grunt loudly, letting all my frustration out.

"okay well it was your fault in the first place," andrew says to me, as my entire hand begins to sting wildly. "what even made you talk to lauren, when you knew that you were in a fight with your girlfriend?"

"ex, girlfriend." i correct him. "i don't know, i saw her there and we just started talking, and the past does being stuff up." i shrug, trying to ignore the swelling pain in my hand. "andrew, i did love this girl at one point. if i see her, it's not like i'm not gonna talk to her, or even care for her."

"that's not the point, shawn. you've been saying that you're in love with anya, yet you do that to her, especially after everything she's been through recently. and that thing with the proposal was a suggestion, considering if you and her never really started dating. i didn't think you would tell your dad so early." he explains, as i groan, rubbing my sore hand.

"why are you taking her side? i'm supposed to be the person you care about the most right now," i tell andrew, annoyed that he's not even bothering to see my side of things.

"because shawn, that girl is broken, and you know it. she was broken before she started dating you, well, like dating you for real, and she told me that during those mere two weeks, she felt as though she was building back up as a person." he lectures. "how could you even do that? how could you go out, straight after you had a fight with her, and start flirting with your ex? shawn, this isn't how you grow as a person, that's how you shrink."

"why do you even care so much about her?" i question, narrowing my eyes at him.

"she couldn't stop crying yesterday, shawn. chris and i tried to calm her down, but she just wouldn't stop. it's hard enough that her dad completely disowned her a couple days ago-"

"wait, what?" i ask, my tone suddenly softer. "when did that happen?"

"two days ago, the day after you left toronto, and coincidentally, a day where you two weren't talking." he tells me. "shawn, she's been in the midst of a court case for the past six months. didn't you know?"

"not at all, i didn't even know that she was struggling with her dad." i say, feeling the guilt settle into me. "why didn't she tell me?"

"she told me she did," andrew says confused, shrugging after.

"so what's happened? is he like off of her birth certificate or something like that?" i ask, sitting down on the arm rest of the chair, feeling the pain in my hand, numb.

"he's just not her legal father anymore. i'm sure you knew about her relationship with her father, but i didn't think it would get to that." andrew says to me.

"i-i need to talk to her." i say, shaking my voice slightly, before standing up from the seat.

"no, you aren't." andrew warns me. "she doesn't want to talk to you, at all, and i suggest that you don't talk to her, if you want the first night of the US tour to run smoothly."

i seriously messed up.
-
"how are we doing portland?" i yell out into the microphone, my voice cracking at the end. i get a loud, excited cheer back, and i smile softly. "so this next song is called lights on, and i'd love to dedicate it to my beautiful girlfriend, who's currently sitting in the vip box near the b-stage, because she's stuck up with me for the past eight months, and i couldn't be more grateful. so, this song is called lights on."

i begin to strum our the melody on my guitar, getting into the introduction, before singing, and looking over at the vip box, seeing anya holding back a smile. this makes me smile even wider, and i continue to put as much passion as i can into the song.

i finish the list of songs which are supposed to be on the main stage, and then the interlude comes on, where i'm supposed to run down to the b-stage, and get ready for the songs on there. i quickly get backstage, and security take me around the edge of the arena, before i reach the aisle leading up to the steps of the b-stage. i take a sharp breath of air, before walking up the aisle, seeing anya on the side of the steps.

i begin to slow down, feeling my heart race at what we're supposed to do next. andrew wanted us to kiss before i got on stage, just as a good luck kiss, but i know anya probably hates me, so obviously it's going to be fairly awkward. slowly, i capture her cheeks in my hands, leaning forward, and pressing my lips onto her soft ones, kissing her gently, before pulling away, and running up the steps of the b-stage, my heart rate not settling at all.

she drives my heart wild.

sighing, i sit at the piano, the cheers being blocked out by my earpiece, as i start to tap away at the keys to life of the party. as i'm about to open my lips to sing, i look over my shoulder, seeing anya falling onto the floor, her body going completely limp.

"oh my-" i cut myself off, stopping the keys, before getting up, and racing off of the stage, walking to where anya was, crouching down, and pulling her head onto my lap.

"anya? baby?" i ask softly, hoping she can hear me, over the extremely loud cheers and screams of my fans. "anya? come on, wake up love."

my heart stops, as the panic begins to settle in, as anya doesn't wake up with my calls. "shawn! what are you doing? get back on stage!" andrew yells at me, coming down to where anya and i are. he looks down, seeing the problem, and gapes his mouth open. "can you lift her?"

"yeah," i manage to get out, the shock overtaking my body, and the only thought of getting her into safety consuming my mind.

"i'll get someone to say something on stage, take her backstage. you're done for today." i nod, sliding my arms under anya's body, holding her close to me, as i quickly race backstage, security following me straight to the first aid section.

"we need someone to look over here! a girls just collapsed!" a security guard yells, as i look around the chaotic scene, the anxiety i'm feeling, taking over my entire body, making me hold onto anya even more tightly than i am.

"shawn, lay her down!" jake tells me, as a gurney is rushed towards me, first aid representatives coming forward. i gently put her body down, standing at the foot of the wheeled bed, watching the people do various checks over her.

my eyes remain wide, and i can hear my slow heartbeat, the beats echoey, long, and loud. i swallow my breath back, as i notice anya's eyes flutter open. relief fills my veins, and i breathe out a sigh, her eyes holding nothing but panic, and anxiousness.

"anya, anya, calm down, please," chris tells her softly, holding onto her hand, whilst a light is shone into her eyes. "shawn, come here!" chris shouts at me, motioning me to come to anya's side. i gulp back a breath again, shakily walking over to her bedside, as she turns her exhausted head towards me.

"i-i'm sorry i-i," she whispers, tears flowing down her cheeks, as a paramedic lets out a shriek.

"shh, anya, shh," i whisper, holding onto her hand in mine, running my thumb over the back of her hand.

"she's bleeding!" a first aid worker shouts. "call 911!" my concern switches to the people around us, as they begin to rush about, throwing towels onto anya's body, and hiding her lower half.

"what's going on?" chris asks, confused, and as worried as i am.

"t-the-" anya stutters, making me look back at her. "m-my-my-" she lets out a strangled cry, squeezing onto my hand tightly. "m-my baby-" i scrunch my face up in confusion, looking down at her, as tears constantly fall down her cheeks.

what baby?
-
the quiet beep of the hospital machines, run through the room, as a sleeping anya dreams, nestled up under the white sheets, her arm hooked up to a drip, and various different contraptions around her.

"did you call her mom?" i ask andrew gently, rubbing my thumb over the back of anya's hand, looking up at my manager.

"yeah, we've booked her flights to come out." he nods. "how did she not tell us?"

"she didn't even tell me, andrew," i breathe out, extremely worried. "andrew, i don't even know how long she's been hiding this, do you know how stressed she could have been over the past couple months?"

"is it yours?" andrew asks me, completely ignoring my question.

"no, i've never slept with her," i say quietly. "it was her ex boyfriends." i say, not revealing the fact that she was raped, and this baby came out of a situation so horrible.

"she's gonna have to stay off tour for at least a week," he sighs, taking his phone out. "stay here if she wakes up, i need to make a few calls."

"of course," i nod, looking back down at my love, whilst andrew leaves the hospital room, leaving anya and i in the hospital silence.

i feel a squeeze on my hand, and i see anya shuffling about on the bed, before her eyes open, squinting at the sudden light.

"sorry hun, let me turn them down," i whisper, leaning back, and dimming the lights. "better?"

"w-where am i?" she croaks, her voice hoarse, as she attempts to sit up, but i quickly stop her.

"woah, easy, anya," i mumble. "we're at the hospital, you passed out, and um," i begin, not wanting to tell her that she's lost her baby.

"s-shawn?" she asks, her voice going high pitched.

"why didn't you tell me?" i ask her gently, as she sighs, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"i-is s-she-?" she cries, as i nod, not wanting to speak the words, as she lets out a strangled sob, her other hand going straight to her face.

"anya, please hun," i say gently to her, distressed by her situation. "shh, please,"

"w-what did t-the doc-doctors say?" she stutters, through her never ending cries, whilst i squeeze her hand, settling her back into her bed.

"they said they tried to sort things out, but the extreme stress, and lack of nutrients ended it," i say quietly, bringing my other hand to her cheek, wiping away her tears. "why didn't you tell me, anya rose?"

"i-i w-was scared," she cries, turning onto her side, as i run my hands through her hair, trying to comfort her. "i-i th-thought you would h-hate me."

"why, anya? i would have supported you," i tell her quietly, as she cries, letting go of my hand, and bringing both of her hands to her face, as she cries into them. "baby, please," i whisper, standing up from the chair, and sitting on the edge of her bed instead, placing my hands on her shoulders, gently. "how long have you known, love?"

"a month," she sniffles, turning to me, and looking up, the tears not stopping from streaming down her cheeks. "i-i wanted to t-tell you i-i swear, i-i just w-was s-so scared."

"don't worry, yeah?" i whisper, leaning down, and pressing my lips to her forehead. "i'm so sorry, for everything anya. you've gone through so much recently, and i've just been an utter dick to you and-"

"shut up," she says, making me smile softly. "i-i was being immoderate i-in the first place, don't worry about it."

"anya why didn't you tell me about your dad?" i ask her quietly. "how long has that been going on for?"

"i-it's embarrassing, i-i legally d-don't have a dad anymore," she sniffles, as i sigh softly, leaning down, and holding her hands in mine again. "a-and maybe six months? i-i don't know, i-it's been a legal battle."

"oh anya," i whisper, running my fingertips over her back, trying to calm her down. "can i do anything for you? i feel so bad for everything i've done, and everything that's happened to you."

"k-keep doing that," she says, shutting her eyes. "it feels nice," she lets out a small sight, before sniffling again, as i continue to trace patterns over her back, soothing her slightly. "shawn?" she asks me gently, her eyes still firmly shut.

"yeah babe?" i question, rubbing her shoulders softly.

"can i be your girlfriend again?" she asks in a small voice, her voice cracking at the end. my heart leaps, and i grin widely, chuckling softly.

"hunny, i don't think i even let you go in the first place." she lets out a soft smile at me, tucking her head back into the pillows, as i lean down, kissing her cheek. "your mom's gonna be flying in soon."

"is she?" anya asks me hopefully. "wait, what about tour?"

"i'm supposed to arrive in vancouver early morning, the day after tomorrow, so either we pick you up on our way out of portland, or you'll have to stay here for a few days, and then fly out to la or san diego." i explain. "andrew will sort it all out, and i'm sure you'll be able to leave hospital today, i mean maybe. don't hold me to that." she looks up, sighing softly at me, before her eyes land onto my hands.

"shawn! y-your hand! w-what h-happened?" she asks, suddenly concerned about me, and not about herself.

"nothing, i'm fine, i just punched a wall." i say to her. "don't focus on me, focus on yourself. get some sleep, love."

"w-will you stay here?" she asks me gently, her voice sounding completely broken.

"of course i will." she holds onto my hands, bringing them close to her head, before she nestles down next to them, our hands intertwined.

i'm gonna do whatever i can to fix her broken pieces.
-
"i don't know, it's been kind of lonely without her here i guess," i shrug at geoff, as i tune one of my guitars, waiting for my call to go to the meet and greet for the los angeles show. "i wonder if shes actually okay. i mean, i've facetimed her a lot, but i don't know if she's really okay."

"she's coming back in a few days, just keep at it, and i'm sure that you'll be fine." he tells me. "as for anya, don't treat her like she's fragile, because you know she'll hate that. just be there for her, and make sure she knows that. she's been through such a traumatic thing, and you have to be the bigger person here."

"i know, i know," i sigh, looking down at my watch. "hey, meet and greets supposed to start in five, i'm gonna go and make my way down there."

"alright, have fun." geoff says, taking my guitar, as i smile, walking out of the room, and following the signs to the meet and greet area, where i slip inside the curtain, seeing the photographer, chris, tom, and andrew.

"ready?" andrew asks me, as i nod, slipping my jacket off, and chucking it on the chair in the booth. "okay, jake, call the first one in."

it goes by first, the repetitive "hello, how are you? love you too" making my head spin with sickness. why is it so rushed? every person is exactly the same. i give them a hug, the odd one cries, and i try to quickly comfort them, and almost immediately, they are pushed out by the next person, who i'm supposed to greet.

"wait, there's one more!" jake yells, as i sigh, tired from standing on my feet for two hours, and talking.

the last person who steps through the curtains surprises me quickly. there stands my beloved girlfriend, dressed in a floral dress, black sandals over her feet, and her hair in loose curls.

"oh my- darling," i chuckle, opening my arms, as she smiles widely, rushing into them. "hey babe, how are you?"

"i'm okay," anya says, pulling her head from my chest, as i grin down at her, cupping her cheeks. "i'm back, surprise." i laugh, leaning down, and kissing her.

"this is the best surprise ever," i chuckle, running my thumbs over her cheeks. "this has made me extremely happy."

"andrew was saying you were getting grumpy without me." she teases, as i roll my eyes playfully. "i'm here now, no need to be mr grump."

"ha ha, very funny," i roll my eyes once more, smiling down at her. "i missed you."

"i missed you more," she grins, but still, there's sadness behind her smile. "now lets get you to your q&a before your fans come and hunt you down."

"they won't hunt me down," i chuckle. "but before we go, are you okay?"

"i'm okay." she nods, pushing out a small smile. "now come on, i wanna watch this q&a." she holds onto my hand, dragging me away, as i let out a nervous chuckle, still extremely worried for her.

i guess hiding it is her coping mechanism.
-
don't expect another update anytime soon, i'm getting to an extremely busy point of the year, and won't be putting out regular updates for the next five or six months. don't comment for me to update, because i've put this message out, and that basically means i'm sick and tired of people not realising authors have a life, and we can't be constantly writing.