Song of the Chapter: Champagne Problems - Taylor Swift
"You had a speech / You're speechless / Love slipped beyond your reaches / And I couldn't give a reason / Champagne Problems..."
- j -
Shawn closes the door to the trunk of his Jeep and he takes my luggage and rolls it along the pavement as we walk over to the station. Neither one of us has really said anything other than simple conversation about luggage and the train ride and the plane ride. We walk up the steps and head inside the station; not that many people are inside, only about seven, and there are two in line to purchase a ticket at the window. Shawn waits with me in the line.
I have my hand out at my side in case he wants to hold it, but he keeps his hand in his pocket. My stomach is in knots and I feel like throwing up. I open my mouth to say something but I can't bring myself to say anything.
"Where to?" The man at the window asks as it's my turn to purchase a ticket.
"New York." I reply.
"Round trip or one way?"
"One way." Shawn answers as he takes out his credit card.
A few minutes later I'm at the platform with Shawn. He waits with me for the train that would be arriving in a few minutes. The two of us sit on a bench, a small distance between us.
"This reminds me of How I Met Your Mother." I say in an attempt to break the silence.
"Mm." Shawn nods once. He still wears the suit from earlier and I can tell he wishes he had taken it off.
"You know, when Ted finds the courage to speak to the mother and they find out they have the same initials." I continue. "And they realize the universe works in funny ways."
"The yellow umbrella." Shawn speaks.
"Yeah. The yellow umbrella." I nod. "The universe is funny, because..."
"I should probably move my car." Shawn says as he gets up. Just as he gets up, the train begins to arrive. I watch as he doesn't even turn to tell me goodbye, but instead mutters a pathetic, "Later."
"I'll call you when I arrive in New York." I reply. I grab my luggage and board onto the train then pick a seat. I take my Birkenstocks off and hug my knees to my chest as I place my phone on the table in front of me. I grab my phone and slip back into my sandals before leaving my ticket on the table and my luggage under the table as I go to the bathroom on the train. I lock myself in and turn the faucet on as I begin to sob.
I just want to take back that moment if it'll make him happy. Even it if makes me feel awkward and uncomfortable with the idea of us moving too fast; I just want him to not give me this treatment because of my answer, which he claims to respect. I just want to be home, and not Chicago, but New York and I want to talk to my mom, but she doesn't even want to talk to me. She didn't even wish me a happy birthday. I just want my mom and Shawn, but I doubt either one of them wants me.
I feel so friendless.
"Stop." I say lowly to myself. "Stop crying over them."
Just as I'm ready to gather myself, I catch a glimpse of my appearance in the mirror. For a moment I let out a small laugh. "God, you look so stupid crying over some boy." I step closer to the sink and turn off the running water. "Silly boy, that's all he is." I say as I wipe away the mascara smudged under my lower lashes. I take a deep breath and then turn the sink on and I splash my face several times with cold water, then pat my face dry with paper towels and fix my hair as I let it loose from the ponytail I had it briefly in.
But Shawn is not just some silly boy, Jasmine. You know that. Hell, everyone knows that. It's Shawn and Jasmine. It's us.
I pinch at my cheeks several times to stop the feeling of more tears that threatened to come. My chest heaves up and down with every breath I take and my mind runs wildly with the last few memories from these past days. Nothing will ever stop that "No," that escaped my mouth no matter how hard my mind tried to block it out. There was no cure, for the memory was embedded in me. I wonder how Shawn feels.
My phone vibrates and I look at the screen only to feel disappointment as it's just an email from work. Facing defeat, I simply grab my phone and exit the bathroom as I head back to my seat. The conductor comes around to check the tickets of the few passengers before he leaves the cart. I look out the window and see Shawn isn't there.
I pull the curtain down as the train begins to move and take out my headphones for the train ride.
- j -
I get off the train with my luggage in hand as I walk around the large terminal. As I walk around, I hear my name being called. I turn in the direction and see a man holding up a sign with my name as he looks around at people who ignore him.
"Hi." I say as I walk over to him. "I'm Jasmine Callaghan."
"Just to make sure you're the right person, where you headed?" He asks me.
"Chicago." I reply.
"Come on." He says. "He told me to start the meter as soon as I got here. Don't worry, the ride has been paid already."
I follow the driver outside and he leads me to his cab, where he places my luggage in the trunk as I get into the back seat. Then he gets in and drives off to the airport.
All I can think about is how Shawn feels led on. Did I really lead him on? Those were never my intentions, not once were they my intentions. He's hurt and I didn't mean to hurt him, and I don't know what to do or say to make him feel better. Did I give him space? Do I call him or text him when I land? Will he even pick up?
Alright, let's think of pros and cons.
Pro: if we get married...
I stop mid thought and instead just put my headphones in and listen to music. But the music doesn't seem to help me. It just makes me feel useless and numb. Here I am, making a mental list of pros and cons for the man I love. Why couldn't I have just said yes?
I wonder how Shawn feels.
- j -
The plane landed twenty minutes ago, and I sat in the back of yet another car that was just ten minutes away from my apartment. I didn't bother with texting Shawn that I had landed safely. Something told me he just knew, and something also told me not to even text him because I know he would just leave me on delivered.
"Did you have a safe flight?" The chauffeur asked me.
"I did, thank you." I reply.
For the next ten minutes I listen to Sara by Fleetwood Mac and think of when we were in his car and I told him I love him. A small smile comes across my lips as I think of how hard he hit the breaks. His eyebrows were raised in an expression I had never seen him make in our time together. My phone buzzes and I see a new text from Paige. I open it and see a link and click on it, which redirects me to a website.
Who is Shawn Mendes' Mystery Woman?
I scroll through and read small and random segments of the article and stop at the pictures. There's pictures of us when we had dinner the night we began the affair, and then when we were in Brooklyn with Mia. In the photo Shawn and I were seen kissing and in the next photo is us at the super market getting yogurt; the photo was taken by some customer from the angle it was taken at. A sad smile spreads across my lips and I continue to scroll and see more photos.
The photos are of us at the auction; we're seated next to one another, and in another set of photos from that night, Shawn and I are dancing and we're kissing. The next and last photo of us breaks my heart: it's of us at the diner. I'm kissing his hand and luckily the ring isn't in sight, but I can tell it was taken by the cook.
From: Paige
- At least they're all flattering angles of you.
To: Paige
- Thank God! My ass looks great in these pics!
I lock my phone and the car comes to a slow; we have arrived at my apartment, and the driver helps me with my bags and holds the door open for me and then I thank him and go up the steps.
I am finally in the comfort of my own home as I close the door and kick off my shoes. There's a knock on my door and my heart jumps as I quickly swing it open. My neighbor stands in the doorway with a smile on her face and mail in her hands.
"Hey, I got your mail for you." She says as she holds it out to me. There's a yellow package that's large and covered with white duck tape. "My boyfriend opened it by accident thinking it was something he ordered. I taped it up. Sorry about that."
"No worries." I say as I shake my head and smile politely. "Thank you for getting my mail." I say.
"No problem. Goodnight." She says as she hands me the mail and walks off to her apartment.
"Goodnight!" I reply and then lock the door.
I toss the letters and magazine on the coffee table as I walk into the kitchen to grab a knife to cut open the tape from the package. Once it's open, I reach inside the package and remove the contents: there's a folded letter on red paper and a record. The record is in plastic and I open the letter. The date is from five days ago and I feel my heart sigh as I notice the terribly messy handwriting.
"To the girl I casually fuck...
If you're reading this, it's either your birthday or your birthday passed, depending on how long we're in Canada. Also, hopefully you said yes to marrying me and by the time you're reading this I'm off somewhere or with you and we get drunk and listen to these songs together.
These are some songs that remind me of you and I felt like I just had to make you a new playlist since you gave me away last time. You have to get drunk and listen to these songs because I got drunk and made it. I love you and I hope you love me, too.
Love you baby.
- Shawn."
There's a terribly drawn heart that makes me laugh. My laughter escalated from the heart to the letter to me, simply laughing as I reached into my fridge and grabbed the new bottle of wine I bought two weeks ago. My laughter dies as I open it and drink straight from the bottle before grabbing the record and heading into the living room to my record player.
I remove the vinyl from the plastic and place it on the turn table before gently placing the needle and listening to the silence before it turned into music.
I sit on the couch and gasp as I hear Colorblind by Counting Crows come on. I nod my head before taking a very long swig of the bottle before placing the bottle between my thighs. "Way to break my heart."
"Jasmine?" Shawn says.
"Shawn?" I reply. It's then that I realize the voice is coming from the record; he really made me a mixtape on vinyl with his voice...
"If you're listening, do you remember when you painted me and this song came on? You said it was from your paintlist? You said that terrible joke and I knew that I wanted to marry you just for that." Shawn says.
The song continues as the singer begins to first verse. I close my eyes and think of how he looked in the sunlight of the attic as I painted him for the first time. I think of his he got some paint transferred onto his cheekbone when we had sex and I was on top. If I close my eyes tight enough I can think of how he looked when he would lean in each time to kiss me.
"This next song I played it for you the last time we had sex in the backseat of my car. It was when you talked about how you were supposed to go to London for the summer." Shawn's voice speaks.
I open my eyes as I begin to hear My Kind Of Woman play and I take another drink of the red wine that passes down and into me rather quickly. I move my hand along to the beat of the song and I look at my phone as I think about calling him.
"Don't call him." I say to myself. "Remember the rules, pendeja."
I place my phone under the pillow as I continued to drink and listened to the songs he strung together for me. All I can do is fill the void with the wine and remaining numb.
I reach under my pillow and grab my phone as I dial Chandler. I wait patiently as he answers. "Hello, Canada!"
"What are you doing awake?" I ask him as I look at my watch. It's around five in New York and is four in Chicago.
"I took four naps earlier," Chandler replies. "Yeah, I really messed myself up with that."
"Question." I say as I drag out the n.
"Are you drunk?" He asks me.
I shrug my shoulder, "Eh, not at the moment. It's just wine."
"How much have you had?"
"Like, one fourth of the bottle." I say.
"Are you drinking with Shawn?" He asks me.
I look at the record player. "Technically, yeah."
"What's your question?"
"When did you know you were ready to marry Chloe?" I ask him. "You guys are coming up on what, three years of marriage?"
"Yeah, three years." Chandler says. "I just knew she was who I wanted to spend my mornings and nights with. You just know these things. I think I had my moment when we were eating ramen in the Hamptons around Selma's wedding. They put onions in my ramen and she just dug into my bowl with her noodles and she put them into her bowl, even though she hates onions as much as I do."
"That's sweet." I say as I take another sip.
"This is a classic. It makes me think of you." Shawn says through the speaker and L-O-V-E by Nat King Cole comes on.
"I take it Shawn proposed already, huh?" Chandler asks me. "You don't sound too happy right now, so I'm taking it as you're not ready."
"How do you know?" I ask.
"Mom was upset when you left. She and dad talked for hours in his study. And I mean hours! Dad told me Shawn asked dad for his blessing. He didn't tell me about mom, though." He tells me. "If you don't wanna talk about mom, don't. I don't want you to put yourself through whatever it was again. So you said no, huh?"
"Yeah." I sadly say. "I just...I know he is who I want to marry. He's who I want to come home to and stuff, who I want to stay in and cook terrible Chinese with and watch whatever is on tv. He's my best friend, Chan. I hurt my best friend and it sucks ass."
"Marriage is more than cooking awful Chinese and binging shows. It's a responsibility and it's when you just know. Why'd you say no?" He replies.
"I just wasn't ready for the future to come so fast."
"You can be engaged for a while, you know."
"I know."
"You didn't wanna do that either, huh?"
"We haven't known each other for long. I fell out of love with him at one point and it would feel like I don't deserve to be married. He never once fell out of love with me. I mean, I honestly don't know why I said no. It's almost like a part of me said it because I could, not because I wanted to."
"Jasmine, I think you know your answer if you want to marry him or not, there's just something in the way that you're too afraid to bring up. I think you need to talk about it with him, but talk about it with yourself, first. Take advantage of your drunken state." Chandler tells me.
I sigh and nod my head. "Drunken words are sober thoughts."
"Call me later when you get that closure with yourself. I'll be all ears." He yawns.
"Thanks. Later, Chan." I say.
"Later, Jazz." Chandler replies and I hang up.
A long groan emits my throat before I take another deep and long swig of the bottle, then place it on the coffee table. I get up to turn off the record when Shawn's voice cuts in again.
"We listened to this when I gave you the slow dance you always wanted. You're my girl." Shawn says and No. 1 Party Anthem begins to play and I stand there, a small hunch to my back as I watch the record turn as the song plays.
In this moment I'm not 24, but I'm 19 years old and I'm slow dancing with the most amazing boy in my bedroom after I've woken up from a nap. I'm not looking at a turn table but I'm looking into his eyes. They were hazel that night. I sit down on the coffee table behind me as I watch the needle scratch against the record and just listen to the song.
I haven't heard this song in years. And I can't believe he remembered this song. I can't believe he has remembered these songs that he played for me four years ago.
"Jasmine." The way he said my name that night when we slow danced. He had me look up at him before the bridge came. I remember telling him I thought it was the perfect part to make out to. I can still fell my lips tingle as I think of the way we kissed, and how my stomach still flutters.
I grab my phone and dial Shawn, and instantly get his voicemail. Once the recorded message stops and the beep is given, I speak my drunken heart.
"I'm still your girl. I'll always be your girl, Shawn. I love you. Please, please call me or text me, call me beep me if you wanna reach me. Send me a pigeon, I don't care! I just need to hear your voice and to know that we're okay. I'm fighting for you. I love you." I say as I hang up and take one more long swig of the wine, then make another phone call.
"Are you still awake?" I ask Paige as she answers.
"No. Kinda drunk, though." She says into the line.
"No way! Me too!" I reply. "Listen, you busy?"
"No, why?" She asks with evident excitement.
"Listen, it's a long story but I'm gonna need your help with something. Can you Uber it here? This is a Captain to Captain, Bradley." I say.
"Oh baby, I'm on it." She replies.
"Perfect! Listen, I need you to bring wine, a small box, and scissors." I say.
"How small?" She asks me.
"Like for a pillow." I reply.
"Anything else?"
"Nope."
"Why do I feel so excited?" Paige asks me.
"Because P, this is going to be an exciting moment."
- a/n -
The song featured has been changed to Champagne Problems, as it is so fitting