FEEL IT TWICE

chapter 1 - breakdowns & betrayals

"Shawn? Can you hear me Shawn?"

His ears were ringing, and not from the screams of the crowd. A face came into view, wavering, indistinct. Dark hair, honey skin.

"Mila?"

I've missed you so much.

He could hear sobbing.

"He's crying. Oh God, Shawn, breathe into the bag."

"He's hyperventilating."

"Get him out of here, people are looking."

"Please stop taking photos guys, come on!"

"Let me through please, I'm a doctor. What's his name?"

"Shawn, Shawn Mendes."

"The singer?"

"Yes."

"He's having a panic attack. Has he taken any drugs? Been drinking?"

"No, definitely no drugs, he might have had a tequila when he come off stage?"

"Yeah, one I think."

Not just one. I had a few. I just want to forget.

"Is there an ice machine in there? Can you bring me a full ice bucket please."

"Shawn, can you hear me mate?"

British accent. Where was he?

"I think he asked where am I?"

"You're in London, mate, at the O2, you just came off stage."

Cez. That was Cez.

"Thanks. Shawn, I'm going to put your arm in the ice."

The shock of the cold brought all the sound and vision back into focus and he gasped in a breath.

"FUCK!"

"You back with us mate?" A strange man was right in his face. He nodded at him.

"OK, I need you to breathe, deep breath in, hold it a sec, now slowly let it out. Good, good. Let's do that again."

"You OK?" Dark hair. Not Mila, it was Lua.

He nodded. She didn't look like she believed him. He didn't either.

Deep breath in, slow breath out. Deep breath in, slow breath out.

How had this happened? How had his life gone to such absolute shit?

He could feel the tears again.

"I think he said he wants to go home."

"Back to the hotel dude?"

"I think he means Toronto."

"Can't do that man, we have a tour to finish."

Can't. Can't. Can't. He couldn't breathe again. Help me.

***

"Ouch!" Camila turned and glared at the woman pinning the dress and then felt bad. "Sorry."

"If you could just stand still, we'll get this done in a jiff. We just want you to look perfect for the Big Day."

The Big Day. Why did they call it that? It was no bigger day than, say, the Grammys, or maybe the day she got her first Number One. They were Big Days too. She had had lots of Big Days. As the woman pinned her dress, she listened to the bride in the next change room chatting with her bridesmaids in a cockney accent.