dead // s.m.

one

October 5th, 2018

Sun rays beamed through the window and onto the bed, where an absurdly handsome pop star lay tangled in the gray comforter.

Shawn Mendes was the young adult sweeping the nation, causing girls to swoon and boys to question their sexuality. In his short 20 years of life he has already accomplished so much. From sold out tours to best selling albums, this kid has done it all.

Shawn had spent the whole night driving home for thanksgiving. From California, where his last tour was, all the way to Toronto, Canada his home town. It was relief to be in a bed rather than an uncomfortable Jeep seat.

He got out of the covers and flenched at the cold, wood floor on his bare feet. He searched his bedside table for his phone, but merely shrugged when he couldn't find it. He figured he had just left it in his car, and would get it later.

He searched around his room for some basketball shorts, but couldn't find any. Instead he found a pair of his favorite black, ripped jeans folded neatly on his dresser and pulled them on. He figured his mother put them there.

It dawned on him that the clock that was usually on his bedside table was gone. In fact, he couldn't find a clock anywhere in room. Mom probably took it he thought to himself, continuing on.

He wandered over to bathroom where he began to get ready. Brushed his teeth, washed his face, and started to shave his itchy, stubbly beard. However, he didn't get very far into the process before there was a knock at the door.

"Mom, can you get that? I'm busy!" He called out into the house. It occurred to him that his mother might be sleeping, but if it was late enough for people to be knocking on the door then it was early enough to be awake. Besides, Shawn had white foam covering half his face and he didn't even have a shirt on.

He got back to shaving, but didn't get very far before noticing the lack of foot steps moving towards the front door.

"Mom!" He yelled out once more, but then figured it was hopeless. Splashing cold water on his face, he washed off the shaving cream and set off to get the door.

Leaning and peaking was no use, it seamed impossible to see who was out there. He sighed and opened the door.

Before he could blink, the young girl standing patiently outside had reached behind his neck to pull him close, and kissed him.

This sudden movement had taken Shawn aback. His initial thought was that this girl was a fan, but he has kept where his childhood home was a well hidden secret from the public. Nevertheless, something about the kiss was familiar, like reading a book you used to love for the first time in a while.

Just as he was begging to enjoy it, she pulled away and hugged him instead. Her body felt fragile in his embrace, he felt he would break her if he squeezed too hard.

He parted from her to see who she really was.

"L-Layla?" He stumbled over his words. Granted her features were more profound and her skin was more textured, but he would recognize those twinkling gray eyes from anywhere. Shawn couldn't believe that his best friend from elementary school was right in front of him. He figured he would never see her again. "I haven't seen you in years! Not since-"

"Not since I died," she grinned.

"Yeah I - wait what?"

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