Chapter 5

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Chapter 5
The Morning After
Shawn Mendes
855 Words
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I wait on the stairs leading up to my cabin, mindlessly kicking a few rocks around. Andrew is coming to pick me up and get me to a recording studio in Toronto. In the meantime I used voice notes to get a rough draft of everything while I was still focused on it. I gotta say, it feels good. Where something was taken away from me, I'm filling the gap myself. I hum the tune to one of the songs, but not necessarily my favourite one. That title is taken by In My Blood, regardless of who it was inspired by. Andrew pulls up in front of me and I smile, feeling relieved. I open the door and get in the car, looking over at him. "Ready to get started?" He asks me and I answer nodding, proudly at that. He chuckles and starts driving so I take out my phone and plug the AUX cord in. I play my first draft from my voice notes, still only named "One." I look at Andrew's face, trying to read whatever emotion he has on his face. He looks shocked but I don't know in what way. Does he think it's outstandingly horrible or outstandingly incredible? He clears his throat and my heart drops "It's, it's perfect Shawn. If I had to speak with the most honesty, it's your best work." I breathe out and smile wildly "Thank you buddy, I didn't really work hard but I had enough motivation." He smiles affirmatively "Let's go get these recordings done!"

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The drive is long but most definitely not boring. We went through every single song I pieced together and made some tweaks but for the most part, Andrew has nothing to critique about it. We'll see what my producer says about that. The studio Andrew chose is quite nice and I've worked there before a few times. Our time is already booked and everything is ready to go. I walk in and immediately fall onto the big beanbag they have in the corner of the room. It's apparently to make a "stress free environment for creativity" but I just think it's comfortable. I scroll through my phone while Andrew plays everything for my team. The numbers marvel my mind as I wait patiently. One song. One follower. One stream. One album. One CD. One sale. Sounds pretty doesn't it? More so, because I know one is an incredibly vast understatement to how high those numbers will be. "So, Shawn, are you ready?" I clear my throat and nod "As I'll ever be." They all cheer and I stride into the recording booth, grinning at myself. The red light turns on and as I sing the first note, I know my life will never be the same. Word after word, sentence after sentence, verse after verse, song after song. After many hours, we had recorded a few takes of every song I was able to pull out from my pages of writing. I meant every word which made the work very easy on my part. My producers were scrambling trying to adjust tiny things to make it perfect. It was futile, my work was flawless, they're just critical. My PR team is now figuring out when, where and how all this material is gonna be released. I personally think it should be a shock. Like my last song, I'd announce them on my social media platforms just before I release it. Just to mix it up though, I'd spread them out. Not too much that I loose their attention but not soon enough that they're expecting it. I think it's genius so I go propose it to my PR team. I ramble it to them, confidence seething through my voice. They all agree but it leaves me the impression that they were too scared to disagree. Oh well, I got it my way. That's all I asked for. I sit on the bench outside of the building, my head low with my hood high to avoid being recognized. My fans are great but I'm more focused on getting home right now. They'll ask too much. I figure I could go home in Pickering but my mom would smother with pity and that's the last thing I need. I'm better than I've ever been. I settle on staying at my place instead. I head back in and let Andrew know where I'll be if anything comes up and he waves me off so I take it as a "go ahead." I get the first taxi I see and settle in the backseat, unlocking my phone. I check through my apps for anything substantial. I look at the patterned icon and smirk to myself. I check my bank account and smirk to myself, knowing the figures these new releases will rack in for me. The fans will stream it over, and over, and over again. Even if it's horrible, they'll appreciate my "effort." We're all just freaky and flawed right?

A/N: Thanks for reading and remember to vote and comment! ❤️

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