thirty-four [t]

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friday,
july 5th, 2020

TRINITY HAYSON

At around five, I set off to meet Hale in a bistro near Central Park.

Shawn's final festival is today, right here in New York. He emailed me two tickets to print a week ago but the only reason I'm going is to see him perform. I've never seen him play a live set, other than the one song he sang for me back at a diner in LA. Today is completely different. He's singing for thousands of people, rather than just a handful. And I'll be in the front row.

Hale was the first person that came to mind when I noticed I received two tickets. Although she's my assistant, she's the closest friend I have in the city by far. She was more than happy to accompany me to Global Citizen.

Shawn told me about his decision to delay the results of the paternity test. I was silently aggravated, simply because I feel it's unfair to me to put them off. I said nothing though, and I could never blame him. He has to focus on himself right now and that's perfectly fine. I'm just slightly anxious to find out. I can't imagine how he's feeling, so I'd never complain. It's his choice.

I catch sight of her through the window of the bistro and head inside. I wave at her across the room before ordering myself a coffee and a blueberry muffin. When they're ready for me, I thank the waitress and join Hale at a table for two.

We chat away as we drink coffee and eat tasty goods before it's almost 6pm. Shawn is due to be on stage at half past, so we set off for The Great Lawn in Central Park. The city is buzzing with festival-goers, strikes of neon clothing catching my eye repetitively as people weave through crowds to attend the outdoor concert.

Our tickets are scanned at the main entrance before we're allowed through. Hale and I stay close together as we join the sea of people walking along the pathway beside Turtle Pond. Eventually, we're in the middle of the recreational field, where tents selling fast food and bottled drinks are set up. People who are sat further back relax on blankets spread out on the grass as stereo music plays as everybody waits for the next act. I'm not sure who we've missed, but I'm really not too bothered.

"Over there!" Hale points in the direction of a security guard who seems to be protecting the golden circle type of area.

We clutch each other's hands in hopes of not getting lost as we make our way towards him. We hold up our tickets, which he scans just like the front guards. He manoeuvres a barricade to let us through, where a slimmer female security guard guides us to the sectioned off front rows. We score a spot towards the edge of the front row and I'm relieved to finally be in place and ready for the show.

"Are you excited?" Hale asks me, leaning her elbows on the front bars as I do the same.

I nod with a bright grin, "Very. I haven't seen him perform yet."

Hale's bright eyes widen, "Ever?"

"On TV," I correct myself, "I always ended up shutting it off though. It was tough to watch until recently."

"Understandable," Hale shrugs, grabbing at the paper thin ticket and stuffing it away in her bumbag.

As Hale and I people watch, muttering comments about how we like what some people are wearing, there's a wave of dramatic music and the crowd stills for a second before erupting in screams. I snap my head towards the stage, beaming as beautifully artistic visuals overtake the back screen and Shawn Mendes breaks out in big bold letters.

"Aaahhhh!" Hale screams, joining in with the crazy girls beside us by waving her arms wildly and prompting me to elicit a happy laugh.

Just seconds later, a spotlight starts to travel around the stage as my man walks on from the side, a guitar strung around his neck and a toothy grin on his handsome face. He waves at the enormous crowd of people (around 60,000) and adjusts the microphone to his height.

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