Yes, I'm aware the VMAS are totally messed up in sequence of events. Please bear with me and all will be revealed. I love you all, thank you for reading!

3 ThebestofbestPJOfangirls

CHAPTER 4 - Used To This

Camila

I'm sick of blatantly lying. To the news reporters, to my friends, to my fans… It makes me sick. But I do it. Because Shawn asked my too. And because I know if I asked him he'd feel bad and tell me to come clean. So I don't. I fake innocence, but I'm sick of it. I've postponed two interviews, had all my groceries delivered to my door, and locked my social media accounts. Doesn't mean it stops anything. Plus I have the VMAS performance in a week. Our choreographer has been working hard, but she's not helping us be inconspicuous. So sorry, my bad for being super excited when Shawn called me and told me to meet him down at Starbucks. Public. Maybe this was it. Maybe he'd let me finally tell people.

I skipped down the road to the coffee shop, where Shawn was waiting for me at the counter. He smiled as I bounced towards him and took my hand in his as he turned back to face the menu.

"We can't tell people yet. But I was thinking in a few weeks? Drop hints, show it, but don't say anything. Yet. Please?" Shawn asked softly. I smiled. Wide.

"Yes. Absolutely. I'm okay with that." I bit my lip to keep myself from full on grinning. I looked up at him. He didn't notice. I stood on my toes, cupped his neck, and dew his mouth too mine. He smiled against my lips and wrapped one arm around my waist, kissing me carelessly. I broke away, smiling happily. He shooed me away towards a table fighting a smirk off his face. I ran away to find a seat while he ordered. He came and sat down by me. I snuggled into his side, taking my drink and sipping slowly. He puts one arm around me, taking his own drink and staring off through the window. I'm perfectly content with simply sitting here, unconcerned finally about who sees us, but Shawn likes to be extra. He leans over, nuzzling his face into my hair. I smile again.

"I like you, Camila Cabello." Shawn mumbles happily. I look up at him, breaking our contact.

"I like you too." I say, any press my lips to his.

Shawn

I left the cafe pretty pleased with myself. I'd been able to tell Camila wasn't doing so great with the secret thing and neither was I. I'd already had two performances where during q&a Camila came up and I walked out on one, and turned down another question with "That's between me and another person." Like, suspicious much? I'm not sure what to do next. I just know I'm perfectly content where I'm at.

I walked up the stairs to my hotel room to write. I was bored. I have nothing to do. I considered asking Camila to come over, but decided against it. She probably had something to do today. Plus, I was on tour and currently living in a hotel room. I sat down on my bed, and pulled out a notebook. I used a notebook because paper is more satisfying when you hate an idea and can tear the page out. I had a feeling the ability to tear pages out would come in handy today. Too many mixed emotions.

I crumpled up the sheet of paper and chucked it into the trash can, screaming in frustration. The words I'd just thrown away glared at me-

I wish I was with you,

I wish I could tell you the truth,

It was sitting next to the trash can, laying littering among other papers I'd already thrown away. I opened up the song I'd been writing earlier, and added another line.

I can't write one song that's not about you

I sighed and ran downstairs to the hotel public kitchen. I pulled out a glass and a bottle. I popped it and poured it into my glass. I raised it to my lips but before I could take a drink, I thought of words. Her words. That's bad for you Shawn. Only use it when you need it. I groaned. Can't drink without thinkin' about you

Is it too late to tell you that

Everything means nothing if I can't have you

I felt the glass slip out of my grip.

I hate her.

Black ebbed at the edges of my vision

No I don't.

What is going on?

I'm just madly in love with her.

I heard the glass shatter against the floor, but it's distant, my ears are ringing.

Why is my life so confusing?

"Help"

Ug.

The words escape my lips on accident.

There's yelling.

The world goes black.

Hey Camila, can you meet me in San Francisco in two days?

Sure Shawn, wassup?

Nothing, I just wanna see you

3 thx shawnyboy

Dont call me that

Pft Luv u

Luv u more

I set my phone down and slid into the bed. I was tired. I'd woken up in a hospital bed. I'd called the nurse immediately to ask her what happened. She said it'd been a mosquito. I'd gotten bit. I knew I was allergic to the rots, but the poison had set extra fast for some reason and had knocked me out. It had never done that before. I'd kept it lowkey, only my parents and Aaliyah knew. I'd tell Camila of course, and she'd freak out, for no reason, but nobody else would ever know. But my vitals were fine, so I was being released today in an hour.

The hour felt like eternity. When I finally escaped the hospital, I threw a sweatshirt on so nobody could see the hospital band on my wrist that I hadn't managed to pry off. Being popular among people leaves you very aware of what you're wearing and what it could suggest. I'd gone to a store too collect a few things my stylist had requested I bought before the VMAS. After that, I'd been bugged by some fan who kept pestering me about the performance. I gave them a signature and slid into my car and drove off.

I was excited. I was ready. I was in love. And we had a performance in a week. In a week everyone would know. In a week, I would come clean. In a week, I would have a whole day to only have eyes for her. And I couldn't wait.

But I think maybe when you're with me, I like everywhere.

VMAS. I had been to these a few times, but they had never been my favorite competition. This might change that. I was happy I got to perform with Camila, and I was confident in our abilities to win. I usually wasn't confident like this, but I just had a feeling. And I was in an insanely good mood. Being around Camila tended to do that to me.

I waited in my dressing room, completely frozen since my stylist had told me not to move, and all stylists are very serious when they tell you to freeze.

"Come on out!" a voice called. I walked out of the room, where several cameras, dozens of people, and a backstage awaited me. A lady in a black suit, six inch platinum platform heels, curly blonde hair and Taylor Swift red lipstick approached me.

"Hello, Mr. Mendes, please follow me for your entrance to the red carpet. I'm Sandra Aberagg, just ask me if you have any questions tonight." Sandra turned on her giant heels and clicked clacked away. I jogged to catch up to her. Everyone was congratulating me and asking me questions. I didn't answer them. I would have to do that later. We reached a curtain.

"And next up, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the carpet, Shawn Mendes!" Sandra pushed me through the curtains as cheers erupted. I smiled and waved and stopped and smiled for pictures were appropriate. I couldn't let it show how much I didn't care right now. I had to get to her.

After my walk down the red carpet, which I'd do later with Camila, I was again guided by Sandra to the main center where the performances would take place. I walked into the huge hall, finding the seat with my name on it, next to camila's. I took it, and was tapped on the shoulder. I turned around to see some guy I'd never seen before behind me.

"Hey Shawn, don't get nervous, you can do this. You're performing twice tonight, correct? One with um, that new song of yours, what was it called? When I Haven't You? And then Senorita, yeah, oh that Camila of yours is one sweet deal-"

I turned away. What did this guy think I was? A joke? A newbie? I knew how this worked. I'd be willing to bet he was slightly drunk and-

My thoughts silenced. What was I thinking? Oh, who cares. All I could think of now was Camila, walking, swaying, gliding, no, floating towards me, modeling a white dress, hair in soft curls with heels she'd told me murdered her feet. She sat down next to me and I tore my gaze away. Shoot. If I couldn't play lover with her now and she looked like that. Two fingers gently traced my limp hand at my side. Camila slowly threaded her fingers with mine as the lights dimmed, and we hid our hands between the seats, with no intention to come up for air.

The speaker boomed, but it was muffled, and as the curtain withdrew to reveal Taylor and screaming crowds, I could help but wonder how on earth I'd manage too not kiss the small hand in mine all night.

Camila

When I went backstage to get ready for Senorita, which thankfully only took like five minutes, I couldn't help wondering what would happen during our performance. We'd only had one rehearsal, and all we'd decided on was like the first eight count and where our starting positions were. So when I glided onto the candle lit stage, and took my position, I didn't know what to do.

I located a camera. I started with singing to the camera. When Shawn started singing, my body drifted towards him. Flirt with the audience. Flirt mostly with Shawn, but also the audience, I could hear my choreographer saying. I winked and smiled at the flashing lights, drifting closer towards Shawn. He was coming for me now. I raised the mic to my lips. Shawn stood behind me now, and I slid down his body as I sang, tracing his neck with my cupped hand. He spins me toward him and his lips are millimeters away. I lose myself for a moment, words are just words. Then there's silence. Just a breath, but enough.

"Don't stop." I command, and we burst away, continuing the song. It happens again. He gets close, too close. When I pull away, but only a little, He traces my collarbone, but forgets to sing. He jerks, raising his microphone again, and I smile. The song closes, and there's no applause. The audience waits. He's so close, I can just, just- I tickle his nose with mine and pull away, a promise, not an act. The cheers erupt. Screaming, yelling, stomping. Some in frustration, others in support. Someone in the front row sighed loudly. I sway as we walk or stage.

Backstage we fall into silence for just a moment.

"Well, that was special." I say. Shawn moves suddenly, his body pinning mine against the wall, his lips on mine, hungrily. Starved. My hands rake his hair, kissing him back just as passionately. He plants an arm on the wall, on either side of my head too steady himself. With one hand he drifts down my arm and wraps around my waist, pulling my closer. I trace the muscles on his back and sigh softly.

He pulls away a minute later, breathing heavily. "Thank you." He whispers softly. And then he's gone. I blink. Then I compose myself.

"Of course, I love you." I say flatly to the empty space. Then I turn on my tall heels and walk towards my dressing room, now fighting a smile off my face. I'm happy now. Never thought it was nothing special, til you kissed me there.

Oh and it's gonna take me a minute.

But I could get used to this.