battle of the bands (and babes) ~ camila/you

chapter twenty seven

"That's MGK, right? The mob boss that took him in?"

"He's not as bad as the police will make him out to be. He gives jobs to kids that most people wouldn't suggest. He taught Shawn about plays."

"Plays?"

"Like stage plays. Shawn read them from Colson's library after work every day. He loves to read now. Something just clicked."

"Is he going to attend college?" I asked.

"We enrolled him in the local community college for now. We think he needs a while to settle in to everything still."

"That's good."

I heard the front door shut, and I saw Shawn walk in. His hoodie was over his head, and he was carrying some eggs.

"I got the eggs. H-Hi, Y/N."

"Hey, Shawn."

"Do you wanna go talk?" He motioned to the house's gazebo outside.

"Sure." I smiled.

I politely excused myself as Shawn and I went to talk outside. He looked well-fed, but the scars on his face were still evident.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were coming over." Shawn revealed.

"It's fine- I was talking with your mom about you."

Shawn laughed, taking a seat as I took the one next to him.

"That seems to be the only thing people talk to her about these days." He added. "Have you read 'A Streetcar Named Desire'?"

"I did a few years back." I remember Camila and I would sit under the trees in our high school quad, highlighting our books in order to reference the quotes in class.

"It's so good." Shawn gushed. "Kelly introduced it to me."

"Have you talked to him since you last saw him?"

"Unfortunately not. He taught me so many things. He taught me about the world. And money. He gave me his library card so I could go study for my GED. At that point, I thought I dropped out. At least, that's what my brother told me."

"Do you wish this whole thing never happened?" I asked.

Shawn looked into the sky, wringing his hands together.

"Nah." He smiled. "I still would've been a brat if this shit didn't happen. I would get a scholarship to Temple, go there, become a frat boy, and waste my parent's money and time. Now- I see things differently. I don't know how else to explain it. Sorry, Y/N."

"Hey, it's cool. So, you're writing plays now?"

Shawn smiled, running in the house to emerge with his knapsack.

"I read a lot of plays, and then I try to write a scene or two of my own ideas." He explained, revealing all of his books and journals. "I can't really type yet because of my cognitive therapy classes, but I can write fine. It's just the keyboard that messes me up."

He went on for almost an hour about his favorite playwrights, and how once he snuck out to Downtown Miami to watch one. A lot of the kids made fun of him for it. But Machine Gun Kelly just smiled and gave him more plays to read. As soon as Shawn began to read more, he became more infatuated with the stage. Although I never pegged Shawn as an artsy type, I could see why he liked plays. Sometimes fiction is better than the reality in front of us.

"I'm glad you're starting over." I shook Shawn's hand as I got up to leave. Morning faded into late afternoon, and I had to meet Camila at the local coffee house tonight. She had something important to tell me.