"The cat does not need a four tier tower to climb on," Ian pointed out, arms crossed over his chest in annoyance. "She'd be perfectly fine with one bed."
"Yes, she does. Just like she needs that adorable pink tutu and cat hair bows. And she needs the best kind of food. I don't remember asking for your opinion, anyways."
"I didn't even want to come with you." I stuck out my tongue at him childishly.
"Well, if you didn't own a car, you wouldn't be forced to be my personal chauffeur. Now shut up and grab the box. It looks heavy."
With a final roll of his eyes (which I'd received approximately 100 times since the time we'd entered the pet store), Ian squatted down to grab the elaborate cat tower from the bottom shelf. He was probably right about 2 Chainz not needing the twelve pack of cat toys, cat perfume, and cat toothpaste, but Tyler wasn't here to talk me out of it, and so into the cart they went. After grabbing one last pack of all-natural cat treats (my mother had grown on me, apparently), I deemed we had enough items to accommodate our new kitten comfortably in the apartment.
"Finally," Ian grumbled from behind me. "Took us long enough."
I shot him a glare as I placed the items onto the check-out counter. "It wouldn't have taken so long if you hadn't insisted on arguing about every single item I picked out. Which was pointless, really."
"No, it wouldn't have taken so long if you hadn't spent so much time deciding on the pink or purple hair bow."
"You just don't understand fashion."
"You're just psycho."
"Well," I hummed, swiping my credit card, "I'd rather be psycho and understand fashion than be normal and caught dead in those awful shoes that you're wearing." Ian pouted and my smile grew. "Ready?"
We heaved the massive amount of plastic bags off of the counter and made our way out, where Ian's small car sat waiting for us. With the temperature dropping more and more with each day that passed, I was beginning to abandon walking for a more comfortable drive. Ian turned down the dial for the music as we pulled out of the parking spot.
"So what's up with Shawn ? Kinda left in a rush last night. You two good?"
"Oh, he's fine," I mumbled. "We're totally fine. Just busy. Busy bee, he is. Busy Shawn . Hard-working Shawn ."
"You haven't talked to him, have you?" I pressed my forehead against the window with a sigh.
"He's just busy. Something happened at the office. It's like, I want to text him, but I don't want to bother him, y'know?"
"I'm not really, like, good at advice. You should probably talk to Tyler . Or your mom."
"Tyler is already sick, I'm not going to bother him. And my mother would probably tell me to grow him fresh vegetables or something. And don't even think about mentioning Russo for help, because god knows I'm not going to perform an impromptu play for Shawn ."
"You could, like, text him?" I opened my mouth in protest, only to realize that yeah, I probably could just text my boyfriend. But rather than admit that to Ian , I insisted insulted his intelligence and hid my phone from him as I typed out a quick text.
To:Shawn Mendes , 1:21: everything okay? x
There was no response before we pulled into a parking spot outside my apartment, so I shoved my phone back into my pocket and grabbed a few bags of the pet supplies. I said goodbye to Ian , heaved the bags over my shoulder, and made the trek up to my apartment where the usual crowd was waiting. After setting the items down in the small hallway between my room and Tyler's (which we'd dubbed the 2 Chainz zone, so we could share her adorableness), I plopped down onto the couch beside my mother, who was knitting something that looked somewhat like a pair of socks.
"Where's dad?" I yawned, dropping my head onto her shoulder.
"Went to get Tyler some medicine." She smiled at my roommate, who was curled up at the end of the couch gripping a cup of tea between his fingers, looking a little bit pale. "You're not feeling well, are you?"
Tyler shrugged at the pair of us. "Just a bit light headed, y'know? Sorta dizzy." "Have you eaten enough?"
"Yeah," He scoffed, "Russo made sure of that before he left to get some medicine."
"Do you need anything else? More tea? Coffee?"
"No. Just some sleep, probably." I nodded in quiet agreement and began flicking through the channels to find a movie for the three of us to watch. 2 Chainz sauntered in and made herself at home in my lap, my mother scooted over and gave me more room, and I was just about to nod off with Tyler when my phone buzzed by my head.
From: Shawn Mendes , 2:47 -- Just got out of the meeting. Everything is fine x
To:Shawn Mendes , 2:49 -- okay. Don't get too stressed out :(
From: Shawn Mendes , 2:50 -- Too late. One of our investors pulled out and Craigen is second guessing. I've got another meeting in 5. My place tonight. Pick you up around 8. x
To: Shawn Mendes , 2:50 -- family is still here. Going out to dinner with them. You're invited
From: Shawn Mendes , 2:51 -- No time. Don't text me anymore, Norah. I have to work. xxx
To: Shawn Mendes , 2:52 -- be nice. Hope you get everything fixed, call me whenever x
From: Shawn Mendes , 2:52 -- I will. I miss you.
To:Shawn Mendes , 2:53 -- miss you too. Do good business stuff
From: Shawn Mendes , 2:53 -- Stop texting me. xx
Sighing softly, I tossed my phone onto the coffee table and pulled the blanket over my head to block out the light for my nap. The entire boyfriend running a multi-million dollar company thing was hard enough to deal with for me, so I couldn't even imagine how he felt. And the whole Shawn actually saying he missed me, followed by the whole 'stop texting me' thing was pretty frustrating as well. I couldn't decide if I needed more caffeine to process the situation or more alcohol to drown it out.
It was enough to make a headache start to grow in the back of my head. Knowing a nap was going to be impossible when I was worried about Shawn , I threw the blanket off of my head with a loud huff. My mother peeked at me with an amused look before returning back to her knitting. Tyler , on the other hand, looked absolutely exhausted where he sat, absentmindedly scratching our kittens tummy while watching a rerun of Criminal Minds on the television.
"You wanna play with one of the toys I got her? There's like a little stick with feathers that we could use."
"Too dizzy," He said quietly, eyes pinching shut. "I feel like I just ran a marathon."
"Russo should be back with some medicine, soon. And I'll get my dad to make that soup that he used to make me when I was sick. It was like a miracle healer." My mother hummed in agreement.
"We'll probably have to go get the ingredients for that."
"If it makes Tyler -Wyler feel better, then it's worth it," I taunted, rolling off of the couch and crawling over the carpet towards my sickly best friend, where I made myself at home on the carpet beside the couch. "Never seen you this quiet. Maybe you should get sick more often."
"Then who would do all the actual work for Victoria?" I grinned at him as I petted 2 Chainz, who was purring quietly on his lap.
"Alice, maybe Sophia. I'm sure I could pay one of them to get some shit done."
Before he could get out a feeble protest, which I could see forming behind his narrowed eyes and parted lips, the door swung open and Russo announced his presence with a loud, "Honey, I'm home! Here to save the day!"
Then darted into the living room carrying what seemed to be about 10 different types of medicine. "You don't even live here," I reminded him as I scooted over on the floor to make room next to Tyler's sickbed. He hummed, pressing the back of his hand to his boyfriends forehead to check for a fever.
"Might as well. And considering I've bought groceries the past 2 times, you can't complain. Tyler , you don't have a fever. But I have about 12 different types of medicines. One of them has gotta work."
"Hope so," Tyler sighed as he struggled to pull himself into a sitting position. It sounded like he was short of breath from running up the stairs to our apartment, or bursting into our office with the final copy of our editorial, minutes before the deadline ended.
"Can I have more tea, please?"
"Yeah, of course. What kind? I think we have English breakfast, green, and earl grey." Tyler paused thoughtfully. "Green. And maybe a bagel. I like bagels."
"Wait," my father called as Russo jumped up. "Julia says I should make my famous soup. Would you like soup?"
"No, no," Tyler sighed. "No need to go out of your way! I'm really fine. Probably a really bad hungover. Thank you though."
"Nonsense, you look whiter than a sheet. I'll make it. You just relax and work on getting better for going out to dinner tonight!"
With that, it seemed as if everyone in the room was off doing something for Tyler . My father and Russo were cooking him food, my mother was knitting a pair of socks that she insisted would be for him, and I was sorting through the mountain of various medicines that they had brought home from the drug store. I eventually settled on just giving him some plain Advil in hope that it would do something. It was weird to see Tyler , usually the most colourful one and the life of the party, lying on the couch. And I could tell that everyone else in the apartment didn't like it either.
After giving him the pills, I wandered off towards the kitchen to bother my father and Russo . With my best friend sick and my boyfriend trapped by work and my parents tucked away with their own projects, there was an extreme amount of boredom on my part. "Russo ," I whined, leaning back against the counter beside him with a dramatic sigh, "I'm bored."
"Play with 2 Chainz."
"Tyler stole her." He rolled his eyes at me playfully.
"How unfortunate. Maybe you could, I don't know, be a real adult and do something adult-ish. Like play bridge. Oh, of start planning your retirement! Or finally get off your parents health insurance!"
I stuck out my tongue after him as he sauntered out of the kitchen, hot cup of tea in his hand and smirk on his face. Then I turned to my father, who was doing something with some unrecognizable vegetables. And apparently I was to the point of boredom of attempting to cook, because I nudged up beside him and began chopping. My father let out a deep, rumbling laugh that reminded me of my childhood.
"Don't burn anything down."
"There's not even a fire," I scoffed, cutting through carrots, "that is physically impossible."
"I wouldn't put it past --" There was a loud crash from the living room, followed by the sound of cracking glass and a high-pitched meow. I could hear the clacking of my mother's knitting needles as they hit the ground, and I was already running towards the sound when there was a pained cry from Tyler that made me stop in my tracks.
"Tyler !" He begged, voice loud and frantic, "Tyler , get up!"
* * * *
SHAWN
I hated coffee. I had hated it since the first time I had it, around the age of 15 when I went out to dinner with Aaliyah and mum. They both insisted on coffee with dessert. So, naturally, I followed their lead and ordered a whopping cup of coffee. And then I gagged on it and spit it across the table. So, I'd always hated it. The one time I'd touched a cup was when I sent Tyler to get one for me during the second interview with Norah, only as an attempt to get him out of the room. And apparently now, where I sat around the meeting table with a large mug of black coffee that reminded me painfully of Norah.
Norah was the only exception I would make to ever liking coffee-flavoured anything. To my right, in a dark tux and smelling of Whiskey, was Justin Bieber. Next to him was his blonde bimbo wife who looked like she was either going to stab him or fuck me at any second. Hailey tended to look like that all of the time though, so I wasn't sure if it was due to circumstance or not. And on the opposite side sat two members of the Board, each sipping on their own coffees and looking about as stressed as I did. With a flush of annoyance at the entire situation, I tossed the papers onto the table.
"It's bullshit. Why would he pull his investment?"
"We can't figure it out," justin slurred.
"S'like he did it for the hell of it." Hailey gave him a disgusted look. "The stock dropped half a point, a minuscule amount, and then all of the sudden he wanted out. Maybe he found something better."
"There's not a better company than mine." I glowered. One of the older members of the board, Paul, nodded in agreement.
"The only possibility is that the drop of the stock scared him a little bit, and then someone offered him a shit ton of money to get out of our company. No one would leave except for the possibility of direct, fast money."
"Stop talking," I huffed, leaning back into the chair with my legs crossed at the ankles. "That doesn't matter. Right now what matters is convincing Craigen that we're worth it. That one investor doesn't mean shit to us. That my company is the one he needs to expand into the States."
"Does he know yet?" Hailey let out a quiet scoff, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Fuck no. He'll know when I decide to tell him, which will only be once we've got our asses covered."
"If we capitalize on the --" I stopped mid-sentence, mouth snapping shut as my office phone lit up. It took everything I had not to pick it up and smash it to tiny pieces. Instead, I jabbed the answer button a little too hard. "Mendes!" Jennifer let out a quiet squeak.
"Uhm, Mr. Mendes--"
"I gave you very clear instructions that this meeting was not to be interrupted. How fucking hard can it be to follow that one simple request?"
"Norah's on the line." I cleared my throat awkwardly, because she had followed instructions, considering the only other rule involving phone calls was to always put Norah through to me. "Right. Put her on. And no more interruptions."
"Yes sir."
The line clicked with a small beep, and then there was harsh panting on the line, accompanied by quiet sniffles and choked gasps. I shot up in my leather chair immediately, hairs already on end at the pained sound. "Norah?" I asked quietly. "Norah, what's wrong?"
A quiet sob came through the line. "I need you. I just -- Tyler . There's something wrong with Tyler , and he's bleeding and passed out and I'm scared. I really need you."
"Babe, calm down. Calm down," I soothed as I stood, tossing files onto the table and stalking out without a second thought. "Where are you right now? Who is with you?"
"Hospital. We're at the hospital and e-everyone's here but you need to be here. He was so pale and there was blood, and he hates blood but he didn't even say anything and I just -- I'm so scared, Shawn . P-please come."
I jabbed at the bottom on the elevator. "What hospital?"
"B-Bellevue." "Okay. Breathe, Norah. I will be there soon."
The line went dead with yet another quiet sniffle and a click. Frantically, I hit the small button with my fist again, because god damn since when were my elevators so slow? I was just about to punch it again when a small hand wrapped around my wrist, manicured fingernails digging into my hand.
"Shawn ," Hailey seethed, "where are you going?" I wrenched my arm out of her grasp, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowed.
"Tyler is hurt. I have to go."
"No, you have a meeting that will decide the company's future. You can't go."
"Hailey ," I hissed, dropping my voice to a whisper and stepping forward to where I was towering over her. She met my gaze for gaze, cole blue eyes staring straight back into my warning green eyes. "Tell Justin and Paul and that other fucking guy that I have other shit to do. They will wait. They have to wait."
Instead of backing down, she took a step forward and pointed her finger at me accusingly. "Are you really going to throw away everything you've worked for for some fucking girl? I've been here through this entire thing, Shawn , I've seen what you've done. And I know that you shouldn't walk out of here right now." The elevator opened with a ding behind me.
"It's not some fucking girl. It's Norah. And the board will wait for me. Fuck, I am the head of it. They have to wait."
"Don't be naive. You and I both know whatever the fuck you're doing with her isn't going to work out. So you need to come back into the meeting."
"Last time I checked, I was the one in charge," I growled. She cocked one eyebrow up at me, full red lips growing into a smirk.
"Then act like it, Mr. Mendes ."
"How dare --"
"Shawn !" Claire threw up her arms in frustration, slapping away my pointed finger while she was at it. "Run your company. This is everything you've ever worked for. And I'm not going to watch you throw it away over some girl that's a good fuck. No matter what, it's not going to work. Come back to the meeting." She paused for a moment as the doors clicked and slid shut behind me. "I know what you want. You want Toronto and you want power and you want money. And leaving right now -- for Norah -- isn't going to get you any of that. Don't you want to repay your mum, dad? Aaliyah ?"
"Don't," I croaked. "Don't you dare throw words back in my face. I take care of all of them and you fucking know it."
"And if you want to keep doing that, come back to the meeting. Paul is probably getting pissed off in there. And we don't have much time before Craigen gets word that your investor pulled."
I glanced back at the elevator, then back at hail , who was giving me that fucking all-knowing smile that she always seemed to have. And with one last final huff of breath, I pushed past her towards my office, straightening my tie as I went.