Camila
I had loved music since I was a kid and my career started at fifteen. I felt like I had been given CPR and brought back to life. How had I lived, even only for this past year, without music? And how had I managed without my best friend? Without Shawn? We sat in his dressing room and ate the food Samira had ordered for us and chatted about lots of things, funny stories from our past, our families and most of all, music. It was the happiest I could remember being in so long.
We were quiet as we finished the food and then I asked the question he had no doubt been dreading.
"So, I told you about me and Tyler, it's your turn now. What's going on with you and Jess?"
He took his time wiping his mouth and took a swig of his water.
"I should have dumped her when she told me not to interact with you anymore," he said, making direct eye contact, causing my heart to race. His eyes then skidded away and he hung his head, sighing deeply. "I don't know, it was a mess, right from the wedding day. I took every chance to be away, performing, recording, visiting family. When I got home......let's just say I got to see first hand what she had been up to, and now here I am, while the lawyers work things out."
I stirred the straw in my drink. "We're a pair, aren't we?" I muttered, and he nodded.
It was silent for a while and then my mouth opened and words came out without me giving them any permission, and I listened in horror, trying to pull them back in.
"Do you ever wish we had worked out our shit and actually got together? If we did, we would have avoided this horror show."
Fuck, fuck, fuck. My heart was pounding. What had I just said? Oh my God. The silence felt like pudding, it was so thick. And then he chuckled.
"So many times," he said softly, shaking his head. I snuck a look at him and he was smiling as he looked down. "I know for a fact if something had happened that night...it felt like it was going somewhere and then..."
"I know, I panicked. You were my best friend, and yeah, we'd had a thing when we were younger, and I'd had a crush on and off on you for years, but I was terrified we would ruin what we had, and it was so important to me...". SHUT UP CAMILA! I was just spilling all my deep dark secrets.
"Yeah, well, I didn't fight for it either," he said sadly.
I looked at my phone and saw a missed call from Samira and was shocked by the time.
"Shit, come on, we need to get back and start getting ready for the show!"
We hurried back and he went to his dressing room and I went to mine. The hair and makeup team Samira had organised followed my instructions to the letter and that along with their talent meant I looked natural and exactly like I wanted to. Unlike the order of our rehearsal, the band was on first, and then me, then Shawn and finally Zaya, who was one of the top selling Arab artists in the world. I could feel my palms and feet sweating as the first act neared the end of it's set. And suddenly he was there.
He looked gorgeous in a midnight blue velvet suit and white shirt and his look of appreciation made me glad I chose this dress, yellow with a high neck, long sleeves and a sprinkling of jewels. It showed no skin, there were no thigh high slits, but it was still sexy as hell. He pulled me into his arms and hugged me tight, murmuring in my hair.
"I'm so proud of you, Camilita, you can do this, I totally know it."
It was all I needed. I strutted out onto the stage, my insides raging, but feeling as confident as I could be, with Shawn's support. I talked a little first, trying not to babble, but it was always easier than having the first thing come out of my mouth be singing, and my voice likely to break from being dry and nervous. My silly joke earned a few laughs and then I started on the first song. I hadn't touched my guitar or keyboard since I'd been with Tyler, so I was using backing tracks, and all was going well with the first few songs, and some choreography I had remembered from my tour and practiced in the lead up to this performance. My last song was a ballad and I waited for the piano to begin but nothing happened. Samira was looking frantic side stage and people were running around. There were no in-ears to communicate with her so I didn't know what was going on. The crowd full of mostly white robed Arabic men were staring at me and I began to sweat and feel nauseous. I pulled out my only other joke that was suitable and luckily I got another laugh and then Shawn walked out. Stage hands were running around sorting out the piano the group had used and was still on stage for Shawn's set and I realised what the plan was. My backing track was not working, so he was going to play for me. He smiled at me reassuringly and I could literally feel my pulse slow and the nausea abate.
There was no sheet music, he had something on his phone and was working from that. I closed my eyes and began to sing.
Shawn
I almost lost my place on the keys when she began to sing the song. It was a beautiful song, the lyrics hit me hard every time but I don't think they would have had quite the impact without her incredible voice, or the emotions she always evoked in me. I was determined not to let her down, I followed the music on the app on my phone and between the two of us we worked out the tempo and arrangement. As the last soaring note rang out across the theatre, the crowd erupted and she turned to me with a flourish.
"A big thank you to my dear friend, Shawn Mendes!" she shouted. I stood and she gave me a hug and it was then a seamless transition to my set, as I picked up my guitar and walked to the mic. It was a good show, Camila had warmed the audience up for me, they were already on a high from her set, especially the last song. After I thanked everyone and left the stage, the lights dimmed and waiters rushed into the theatre, serving dessert.
I started walking to my dressing room and as I reached the door I was accosted by Camila. She had changed out of the slinky yellow gown that was unusually circumspect in consideration for the cultural preferences, but clung lovingly to her curves, and into a black dress and bright scarf.
"Thank you so much!" she panted, throwing her arms around me. I laughed and hugged her back and then suddenly I realised we were completely alone in this corner of backstage, and holding each other tightly. She pulled away and I straightened my jacket and sleeves, clearing my throat.
"You're welcome, Mila, always," I said. She smiled widely. "You were....amazing. I have no words." Her smile seemed to get even wider, even though that seemed impossible.
"Thank you," she said softly. "You were too, as always. I've never seen you do a bad show, Mendes, you know I'm your biggest fan!"
The words hung there, and I remembered an interview where I said that your wife or girlfriend should be your biggest fan. Jessica, on the other hand, didn't come to my concerts or enjoy my music at all. She loved rap, hip hop, that kind of thing. She ridiculed my music at any opportunity. Camila though had danced her ass off in the VIP section at many of my concerts, just as I had at hers. I had found myself comparing Jess to Camila a lot over the past forty eight hours, and my wife had come up short every time.
We heard the intro for Zaya and Camila grabbed my hand and dragged me to side stage so we could watch, and it was worth it. She was a spectacular singer, older, perhaps late forties, stunningly beautiful with a voice like fire and honey. We didn't understand a word but we were entranced by her whole forty minute set. The crowd were on their feet at the end, clapping in time, and then she finished with a ballad that had some of the women in the audience weeping behind their veils.
As agreed, we joined the other artists out in the theatre, walking around and meeting them, sitting at tables. Samira went with Camila, as a kind of chaperone and the band and I were safe on our own. Zaya was not included in this walk-around, she was receiving VIP guests in her dressing room instead. By the time we got out of there, Camila had some gourmet style baklava in her purse and we were laughing as we climbed into the limo. She tripped a little and fell into my lap and my heart leapt but I just picked her up gently and made a joke and sat her back in her seat. It sucked the words out from between us and we were quiet as the limo headed back to our hotel.
I walked Camila to her room again and when she opened the door she gasped. Dozens of bunches of flowers were arranged in vases around the suite. I followed her in, picking up one of the cards. I wondered if it was Tyler, trying to suck up to her and slither back into her good graces but I was wrong. They were all from members of the audience, effusive with praise. She was so happy as she read them and I realised that she had missed this, that she had withered away a little, and I was not just talking about the obvious weight loss, but like all artists, the love of fans was part of what kept you going. Her phone rang, and she mouthed that it was her mother so I nodded, waved and backed out as she waved back and blew me kisses which I returned.
As I caught the elevator up another two floors to my own suite, I was still warm from the obvious happiness she had felt. When I entered my room I had to smile. No flowers for me, but lots of gifts, and I had fun opening them, and showing Andrew and Brian and my Dad and Aaliyah on FaceTime the camel figurines and other cool things. I eventually showered and went to bed. It was about three am by then, but I couldn't sleep. Somewhere, just up there above me, Camila lay curled up in that bed, and I knew what that looked like, and I hadn't been able to get it out of my head. I shouldn't be having these thoughts about her. Again. I was a married man, and she was a married woman, for the moment anyway, but it had begun to feel like our marriages were an interlude, something that hadn't really happened, a kind of dream (a nightmare) and now my feelings were right back where they'd been before. Before Jess. Before Tyler.
Camila
I woke up the morning after the performance with a big smile. My official duties were over, and now I was on vacation. Looking around made me smile. So many beautiful flowers. I slid out of bed and walked to the big windows and looked out at the beautiful beach and city. I wanted to look around and I was suddenly really excited. I ordered a room service breakfast and then rang down to reception. Five minutes later I found out I could do a private guided tour of the city, taking me to the Museum of Islamic Art and the cultural village. Tomorrow, I might go do a desert safari, and maybe in the evening a dinner cruise. But the thought of doing all these things on my own was too depressing. Of course, I never intended to do that. I messaged Shawn.
Shawn
I looked at my phone through squinting eyes. There was only one person I knew with that much excitement and energy this early in the morning after a late night. It was Camila. I read through her text with a growing smile. She wanted me to go sight-seeing with her over the next few days, she had a list of things to do and it sounded cool, but I texted back that maybe she should spread it out over the days as it was so hot, and that could be draining. Maybe half a day sightseeing and half a day by the pool? She said it was a deal and she would go book the tour and meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes. I had the quickest shower and put on a hat to keep off the sun and also because I didn't have time to do my hair and then grabbed my day pack and went to meet her.
She was waiting in the lobby with a young Pakistani guy with a big smile, our driver and guide. She looked cute and fresh in long white cotton pants and a pale blue shirt, and she had a darker blue headscarf on and dark sunglasses. She was talking to the guy and her hands were moving and she was smiling. I was feeling things I shouldn't be feeling but I couldn't help it. I felt happier than I had in over a year. She turned to see me walking towards her and met me half way.
"This is Asif, he's taking us around Doha today! Are you ready?"
"Lead on," I said with a laugh. Her excitement was infectious.
She had booked a luxury private tour and we had a limo to ourselves. There was a little fridge with bottles of water inside and I needed one just from the walk from the hotel to the car, it was stinking hot. Asif was proud of his adopted city and gave us a lot of information and statistics. After looking around at the city he took us to the Museum. It was an imposing building but inside it was fascinating. We spent way more time there than Asif had planned, he was getting a little stressed, but Camila just smiled at him and said we could always do more tomorrow, and he fell under her spell immediately, heading off to hang with some of the other drivers.
She flitted from one exhibit to the next, reading all the information and I followed along and made all the right noises but I really was just enjoying being with her. We sat down in the coffee shop and had a cold drink and shared a piece of cake.
"I'm so glad you're here, I would have been miserable otherwise," she said.
"I doubt it, you would have made best friends with someone and they'd have come with you," I laughed.
She was serious for a moment, reaching over to touch my hand. "You're my best friend Shawn, you always have been. I'm so sorry I let Tyler come between us."
I didn't know what to say. I held her hand and gave it a little squeeze. "Well, we're here now." It was all I could think of but it seemed to make her happy. She squeezed my hand back. We took the elevator to the top floor and stood overlooking the city as the sun set. It was one of those moments that you always remember, the sun shining through the Arabic arches, making Camila's skin glow like warm honey. I felt myself falling and was suddenly terrified but I couldn't move, and I didn't want to. She felt me staring at her and looked up at me, smiling into my eyes, but she must have seen something there and the smile faded. There was something intense going on, it pulsed in the air and later I wondered what would have happened if we had been somewhere else, somewhere where displays of affection were acceptable, and we hadn't been interrupted by Asif coming to tell us we had to go.
We sat in the back of the limo in quiet compatibility. We should have felt awkward or afraid or something, but we didn't. She leaned her head on my shoulder and I let her. When we got to the hotel, taking much longer because of the evening traffic, she was asleep.
"Hey sleepy head," I whispered against her hair. Being this close to her, smelling her shampoo and her skin, feeling the warmth of her soft against me, was bringing parts of me back to life that had been dormant since I'd walked in on the scene on my wedding night. "We're back at the hotel, wake up."
She stretched and the shirt pulled tight over her upper body and I almost groaned, feeling my own clothes tighten. I didn't know how I was going to get out of the car without embarrassing myself. She put her hand on my knee to push herself up and I almost lost it. I held the daypack in front of me as we walked back inside. She was talking about dinner.
"Do you want to eat here in the restaurant, or maybe we can do room service?"
Room service? I couldn't spend time in her room or mine, just the two of us, fuck no. Even though it was the one thing I wanted more than anything.
"The restaurant sounds good," I said quickly.
"OK, I need to freshen up, will I meet you down here in half an hour?"
"Sure," I said. I needed a cold shower, that should give me enough time. "I'll book a table."
Back in my room I had the shower then paced a little, giving myself a talking to. And then my phone rang.
It was Jess.
I was thinking of ignoring it, but knowing her, she'd just keep calling, so I answered.
"Hi," I said in an expressionless voice.
"Where the fuck are you? They're evicting me from the fucking house!" she screeched.
"Did they serve you the papers?" I knew they had, the lawyers had emailed me.
"A divorce? You have got to be joking! We have only been married four months! I'll be a laughing stock!"
"Don't care Jess, it hasn't been a marriage since the wedding. I'm not interested. I'm miserable. I took a corporate gig as far away as possible because I don't want to deal with your shit."
"WELL FUCK YOU!" she screamed. How did I ever think she was sweet or beautiful. Did I ever? Did I ever even care at all? I felt like all that was some other guy, living some other life, in an alternate universe. "You're not taking my house!"
"According to California law, and the pre-nup, it's half yours and half mine, so if you want to pay me for my half you can keep it."
"I don't have that kind of money!" she snapped. "But I will! I'm going to take you for everything you have."
"You signed the prenup Jessica, we leave with what we went in with, except for communal property, in this case the house is it. You'll get half of that, count yourself lucky after four months of not even being a fucking wife."
She was silent and then I heard sobs. Not very convincing ones.
"I do love you Shawn, I really do, please can't we work it out?"
"I'm not buying it. Sell it somewhere else Jess."
She launched into a vitriolic tirade and I listened to the crude insults and creative foul language without turning a hair. It was easy when you really didn't fucking care. In the end I just hung up and then turned my phone off. I should feel depressed, pissed off, low, but the call had done the opposite. I felt like I had been set free. I was well rid of that woman. She had just reinforced my decision to end the marriage. Sure, I'd be ridiculed a bit, she'd make a fool of me in the press, but I didn't care. I really didn't fucking care.
I felt a ton lighter as I let the waiter seat me to wait for Camila. It was a traditional restaurant and there was a taster menu, so I decided to make a decision and I ordered it for us both. I felt it when she arrived in the doorway. She wore a pretty floral dress and high heel sandals, her hair out around her shoulders. I wanted to rip the dress off her and make love to her on the table. Shit. So much for the cold shower.
I stood to greet her, ready to pull out her chair, and she hugged me, kissing my cheek and I melted into a puddle on the floor. While I seated her I told her about what I ordered and she thought it sounded delicious. Her smile was everything.
I don't know how I got through the evening. I felt like a fifteen year old boy on his first date. I wanted to just prop my chin on my hand and gaze at her, she was so beautiful. I could listen to her talk all night, and I did. I interjected in the right moments, made some silly jokes and teased her. I wanted to impress her but this was Camila, she knew me inside out, those kind of games would never work with her.
"What's up Shawn?" she asked, wiping her lips after we finished the last course.
I should say nothing, but she wouldn't buy it.
"Jess rang, before dinner."
"Shit, how did that go?"
"Just like you would expect."
"That bad huh?"
"Yelling, cursing, threats, it was fun."
"A real carnival I'm sure," she said drily. "The part where the freaks live."
I laughed. "Are you calling her a freak?"
"If the Jimmy Choos fit...."
I liked sassy Camila. I loved when she showed this side of her.
She looked contrite. "I shouldn't have said that..."
"Why not? It's all true. Anyway, divorce papers have been served, and the lawyers have given her notice the house is being sold."
"Wow, that must have gone down like a lead balloon."
"She was a bit miffed."
We laughed and then I asked her if she'd heard from Tyler.
Her smile totally disappeared. "No," she said flatly. "But then again, I've blocked him on my phone."