For Him - Shawn Mendes

for a dream TO come true

HANNAH

I pulled at the strings of my hoodie, a nervous habit of mine, as the front door of his modest-looking home swung open. A middle aged man answered the door, his blue dressing gown adding to his already cozy aura. He looked tired; the lines under his eyes explaining more than just fatherhood.

"Ah," He grinned, a sweet, knowing smile that allowed me to ease into my feet, "you must be Hannah!"

"That's me," I smiled back, shrugging my shoulders slightly.

Shawn's dad looked behind him, to where a little girl hid behind the banister of the stairs. "I'm Manny, and this is my daughter, Aaliyah."

Aaliyah resembled Shawn in so many ways that by just the sight of her, I'd decided I liked her. She bounced out from behind her spot, bright and alive, "It is you! You're even prettier in real life!"

I raised my eyebrows at her, confused by what that even meant. Manny checked the look on my face and quickly and quietly gestured for his daughter to leave. He smiled at me nervously, silently apologising. She has no filter, his eyes screamed, but you get used to it.

"He's upstairs," Manny went on, "First room on the left."

I thanked him, taking in the sweet aroma of caramel as I stepped into their house. I was just about to dart up the staircase when Manny placed his hand on my shoulder. I turned around, quickly, bewildered as he pulled me into a hug. "Thank you," He whispered, tearing away from the hug, "for being his friend, I mean. Means more than you'd believe."

At the time I nodded at Manny, thinking little of his words. I guess at the time I thought that maybe Manny was just being a protective father. And I knew that I was one of Shawn's only friends; I just didn't know the full extend of how badly I was. I realise now that our friendship did really mean more than I had ever believed.

Frantic and happy Shawn pulled me into a bone crushing hug. He murmured words of sorry into my shoulder but I drowned them out, content that we were all OK.

I joined him on his bed, kicking off my shoes to sit cross legged. He shoved his laptop into my lap and told me to read an email; one that was making the boy beside me jittery. I smiled at him, shoving him to get him to stop. He didn't.

"Holy..." I mouthed, my eyes going back to read the email properly after giving it a rushed skim. "Shit."

He collapsed back onto his bed, brown hair flying as he stared up at his ceiling. "It's real, right? This is happening."

"It is," I repeated, "It's like a dream come true."

I collapsed back onto his bed with him, staring up at the shadows of light his blinds casted on the ceiling. He shifted.

"What's up?" I asked, turning to him.

He shrugged his shoulders slightly, flipping onto his stomach. "I'm scared."

Licking my bottom lip, I realised what he meant. This was big, huge even. "Believe in me," I nudged his arm, watching as he brightened ever so slightly. It wasn't much, but it was enough. "You'll be great. I've only heard you sing a couple of times, but," putting on my best British accent, I continued, "your voice is really, truly, fan-tab-ulo-usly amazing."

He sat up, his back leant against the headboard of his bed. "Believe in me?" He repeated.

"Sure, you'll be amazing. I can tell you have it in you, you were born for this."

He shook his head, grabbing my hand, "No, believe in me. It's this thing my parents had..." His voice trailed off, but he realised I was listening and looked me in the eye, "It was a truth thing. A-swear-by-my-life kinda saying in their vows. Helped them through a lot."