ALL I WANT [S.M]

33. Down

My Twitter followers had increased quite abundantly ever since Shawn had taken off. I was known as "Shawn's girlfriend." I wasn't necessarily excited about the sudden maximization of... I guess you could say personal fame?

But if I were to be legitimately famous, I wouldn't want it to be because I was in a relationship with a somewhat famous person, I would want it to be for something amazing in which I accomplished, or a because of a specific talent I obtained and was sharing with the world.

Shawn was the happiest person alive after his first concert. He had even released his first song, along with an EP, and he was doing better than ever. He signed to a record label, and had been writing more music, scheduling more performances, and had been spoiling me like crazy. Not specifically with gifts, but with overall affection. We'd been having date nights way more often then usual, almost every other night.

I wasn't complaining. It was a magnificent feeling to know that even if your boyfriend was truly becoming famous, he still paid plenty of attention to you. I was still an importance to his life, and that wasn't changing anytime soon.

Honestly, though, he just kept getting more and more popular, that anywhere we'd go there'd be someone who knew his name. Sometimes, there would even be an entire line of fans just waiting to get the chance to wrap their arms around Shawn, and take a picture with him. His pockets became overflowed with small gifts and ripped pieces of papers with Twitter usernames scribbled onto them, along with tiny drawn hearts. Regularly, he was given fairly large stuffed animals, and since his room was already flooded with gifts and fan mail, he gave several of them to me. Shawn was officially famous, even though he would doubt the fact.

It seemed like the more popular he got, the more popular I got as well. More than three quarters of my followers on all the social media I owned was solidly Shawn fan accounts, and man, some of their usernames were strange. They made me uncomfortable, but I didn't pay much mind to it.

I was a target to a lot of hate, though. People bashed me saying I "stole Shawn from them," (which inevitably made me laugh) or that Shawn and I "won't even last" and that I was "too irrelevant for Shawn," etcetera. I was bullied on a daily basis.

At first I took all of the negative comments personally, and it really made me feel bad about myself. I did get nice comments, though, but the hate just seemed to override them. Just when I had thought nothing could go wrong, I had hit a low, and hard.

My daily regimen was basically: wake up, eat breakfast, watch sappy TV shows, eat lunch, text Shawn, watch more TV, hang out with Shawn (basically the only time I felt at least a little bit happy), come home, go to sleep. I had been avoiding social media as much as possible. And that's how the remainder of my summer was spent.

Shawn had noticed my melancholy mood, so he had decided to invite me over one morning.

In a pair of black sweatpants, a red t-shirt, and my hair left unbrushed and still wet from my shower, I strolled out to Shawn's car parked in front of my house.

Groveling into the passenger seat, I exerted a long sigh.

"How are you feeling?" Shawn asked, one hand on the wheel and the other stretched across my thigh.

"I'm fine. Why?" I lied, not looking him directly in the eye.

He licked his lips, patting my leg as he reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers. His thumb swirled patterns on the top of my hand.