For Him - Shawn Mendes

a set OF unclassified rules

HANNAH

We woke late in the morning because there were no rules. We ate cheap bagels at a cafe down the street because the hotel didn't include breakfast, and, when we were happy and full we decided we'd venture towards the markets.

It fascinated me that a place so bustling incorporated activities ranging from the climbing the Empire State building to ambling through flea markets. I wondered then if I could ever see myself living in New York, and though the answer wasn't a definite yes, I closed my eyes and imagined how magical it would be in the winter. I'd had a taste of snow for the first time in Canada, and I wanted to compare it to America.

"Han," Em whispered, pulling me closer to her.

I turned to my right, to where Emily was flicking through hand-made journals. She put a brown one down, golden engravings shimmering in the sun. I hummed.

"What really happened?" She asked, picking up another; this time turquoise.

I watched as her fingers skimmed through the pages, the paper so plain and untouched. I almost had to look away. "What, this morning? Oh," I laughed, "I gave the woman in the cafe a Canadian note by accident and she looked as if she'd never seen anything un-American in her life!"

Emily shook her head, laughing. "No, silly. What happened yesterday, when you disappeared?"

"Oh," I paused, coughing, "I saw Shawn,"

Emily slammed the turquoise journal back onto the table, a small laugh escaping her lips. She wasn't mad, but instead somewhat pleased that her suspicion had been confirmed. "Knew it."

"I'm sorry for not saying," I followed close behind Emily as she weaved through the stores, only pulling at her hand as she neared the others. I needed to tell her everything. I pulled her toward a candle stand, "I should have told you straight away."

I waited until she was looking me in the eye before I continued, "It's in his contract."

"What is? Lying?"

"Yes," I went on, watching the confused look spread across her face, "for the media to think they're dating, purely for publicity reasons."

Emily bit her bottom lip, the cogs in her head turning slowly. "And he couldn't tell you?"

"No, but he did anyway." The sun against my back was calming, and I found myself overly accepting of the situation. It made sense.

The girl beside me sniffed a candle, holding to her nose as if it would help her think. She put it down almost immediately, the overpowering smell of lavender putting her off. She smiled, "So you two are cool?"

"I think so, yeah."

We joined the others back at the hand-made journal stand, where Brian was taking a picture of Rayah and Ian with decorative hats on.

"Everything okay?" Riley asked as I stood beside him. He laughed as the man running the journal stall clapped at Rayah's dancing.

I nodded, because it was true. "Everything is great."

And I bought two journals, one turquoise and one brown; the embroidered guitar's branding both of them reminding me of a certain musically talented friend.

That night I phoned Shawn, not because I had something to say but because I missed his voice.

"So how come you're in New York?" He asked, muffles in the background as he got comfortable in bed.

I checked behind me, to where the others were playing Heads Up in the hotel room. They hadn't asked why I was on the balcony, but I think they knew. "Riley got his license, squad road trip."

"Riley got his licence!" Shawn gawked, "And you made it to New York alive!?"

I hummed, rolling my eyes at his joke. "Oh!" I shot up, "I have something for you." In the distance, I could make out blurred lights from ships in the harbour like smudged daisies.

"You do?" He smiled behind the phone, "What is it?"

"I'd tell you," I mused jokingly, "but then I'd have to kill you."

Shawn didn't reply for a minute, "Huh?"

"Sherlock, The Hound of Baskervilles." I explained, disappointed in his lack of knowledge, "Shawny boy, you been living under a rock?"

The boy laughed, "Alright little-miss-book-worm, I stay loyal to Harry Potter."

"The movies," I finished, rolling my eyes.

Shawn pursed his lips together behind the phone, as if his disinterest in books was a matter that shouldn't be discussed. "You really like writing, don't you?"

"Oh, I love it." I smiled, though he couldn't see it, "I think it's what I want to do when I'm older. Or photography."

"Of course," Shawn confirmed, "God, the photos you showed me back in February were fantastic"

I bit my bottom lip, trying my hardest not to smile at his words. "Thank you."

"Han?"

I hummed, "Yeah?"

"I've been a shitty friend," His voice was masked in guilt, which only made me want to hug him, "just know I love you, yeah?"

Ian waved at me from inside, where Brian was sulking at his loss of the final round. "Shawn," I said, as if what I was going to say next would have serious meaning, "I love... your shirt."

"You can't see my shirt." He chuckled, confused.

The air was becoming cold, and inside the others were laughing. "You're right," I said quickly, a devilish smile pulling at the corners of my lips, "I meant your face."

And with that, I hung up.