But your body is stiff, and you know you’ll have bruises in places you didn’t know you had, but you keep running. You don’t stop, you can’t stop. You know if you do, you’ll end up dead, and that’s the last thing you want to be. The cold of the snow eases the ache in your bones just enough to keep you standing, but once the numbness wears off, you’ll collapse―you can feel it. Every cut, every tear, every bite and scratch laid into you will be unbearably noticeable. You’re not healing and you know it’s only a matter of time before your body gives out permanently.

You don’t know how long you’ve been running when you finally see it: the Mendes house. Up to this point, it’s always been a myth. An idea in the form of a dream in your head, but there you are. You’re barely able to make it through the gate and into the yard when your vision goes black at the edges, you fall in a crumpled heap in the snow.

When day breaks the following morning, the sun feels warm on your skin and you snuggle further into the blankets around you. Blinking your eyes open, you slowly take in your surroundings. The first thing you notice is the room you’re in isn’t yours, the second thing is you don’t recognize the scent in the air (but it’s pleasant), the third thing is how much pain you’re in. As the shock wears off, the only thing you think to do is scream. At the sound of your screaming, footsteps thunder down the hall toward the room. There are too many to count and you’re too freaked out about where you are and how you got there to make a run for it.

Three bodies burst into the room without knocking, and catch you off guard. You scramble across the side of the bed and press yourself against the far wall. From your new vantage point, you can see the people that came rushing in moments ago. The boy closest to the door is shorter than the other two and has sandy-brown hair, and bright blue eyes. Next to him, you quickly decide is clearly his brother, twins maybe. They could be identical, though the second boy is taller by at least a few inches, with broader shoulders. And finally, your eyes sweep across the third intruder. He’s bigger than both of the previous boys, much bigger, and he’s staring at you with dark eyes. Your own eyes travel from his face and land on his bare chest covered in a light sheen of sweat, you can’t deny that he’s easy on the eyes. Shaggy dark brown curls stick to his forehead.

“Easy, easy,” he whispers. He holds his right hand out in front of him, approaching you slowly. “No one is going to hurt you, you’re safe here.”

Your eyes dart between the three of them, you’re in pain and confused. Something about the man directly in front of you feels familiar, it takes a few seconds for your brain to connect the dots that it’s his scent that was in the air when you woke up. This must be his room. You swallow thickly, keeping your eyes on his face.

“I’m Shawn. This is Zack and Jesse,” he introduces himself and the boys behind him raise their hands as he calls each of their names. “We’re not going to hurt you, okay? You’re safe,” he promises again.

There’s a warm timbre to Shawn’s voice, coupled with the aroma in the room, you calm down from your earlier panic. You nod, acknowledging the brothers and focus in on Shawn again. Your throat hurts from screaming, but there’s a question burning in the back of your mind. “W-where am I?”

Your voice is soft, but something about the looks shared between them tells you they heard you, anyway. They confirm your suspicions when the smaller of the brothers, Zack, gestures around the room.

“You’re at the Mendes Pack House,” he says the title so abruptly that for a moment you aren’t sure you heard him correctly.

“I’m― where?” Your mind is racing and you feel you could pass out at any second.

Shawn notices your discomfort and gives the boys a brusque nod, they both look you over one last time before leaving the two of you in the quiet comfort of his room. The door clicks shut and you return your eyes forward.

Shawn’s kneeling down at your level now, his russet brown eyes lock on your face. “Hey, hey, breathe.” He continues to watch your eyes, gauging your reaction as he takes slow deep breaths. “I know this is a lot to take in, I’m sorry if we startled you. Let’s start at the beginning. What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you say, taking a deep breath. The room feels less suffocating now, you’re grateful.

“Nice to meet you. Do you have any questions?” he continues. He’s kept space between you, likely to let you know that you can run if you want to and he won’t stop you. But that same weird feeling from before tells you running would be a much dumber idea than sticking around.

You shake your head. When you try to think of something to ask him, a thick fog clouds your mind. You’re not sure why or how to stop it from happening. You sigh defeated and drop your hands into your lap.

“All right. Well, you must be starving and I’m sure you’d like to freshen up.”

This time you nod. You hadn’t realized it at first, but you feel like you haven’t eaten in days, then it dawns on you. “W-what day is it? Like, t-the date?”

“It’s Monday, December 11, 2018.”

“Monday? How long have I been here?”

“Three days. Zack found you in the snow around midnight on the 8th.”

You swallow and nod your head, afraid to put too much thought into it right then. With a shaky breath, you look up to meet Shawn’s concerned and tender gaze.

He reaches for you but quickly pulls back when you flinch away from him. He nods toward the adjacent wall and it’s then that you notice the second door. “The bathroom is through there; towels are on the rack above the toilet. I’ll see if I can find something for you to wear, and I’ll need to check over your injuries when you’re finished.” He stands up from the floor and turns to leave. “Take your time, okay? There’s no rush.”

You do your best to return Shawn’s friendly smile with one of your own and watch as he slips through the door, pulling it behind him. You give yourself a moment to calm down before standing up and making your way to the bathroom. You step inside and feel along the immediate wall for the light switch, and flip it up once you find it.

Shawn’s bathroom, like his bedroom, is a fairly good size. You place your hand down on the marble countertop, relishing in the cold of the flat surface against your skin. In the mirror, you can clearly see the bright read spot on your left cheek, you know it will bruise pretty badly in the next few days. You can’t imagine what the rest of you looks like. It takes a good five to ten minutes for you to peel your clothes off, your body is worn out and your muscles ache in protest. A hot shower will do some good.

An hour and a half later, you’re finished with your shower and ready to get out. You reach for the towel rack; your body listens better now. Along with the dirt, the hot shower washed away most of your pain. All that lingers now is a hunger headache you won’t be able to get rid of until you eat. You wrap the towel around your torso and step out of the shower. There’s a blue brush and a hair tie on the counter that weren’t there when you got in, you assume Shawn must have left them while you were taking your shower. You’re a bit surprised that you didn’t hear him come back in. Your hair, now clean, desperately needs detangling and you’ve always loved the feeling of pulling a brush through it.

A few minutes later, you finally emerge from the bathroom. Your hair is brushed and pulled up into a loose bun on top of your head. You didn’t bother trying to assess the extent of the damage done to your body, not quite ready to handle the state it’s in but you know it’s bad if Shawn was offering to tend to your injuries. With a sigh, you make your way over to the bed. You really must have been out of it when Shawn came back in, there’s a pair of grey sweats, a long-sleeved blue polo, and a hoodie laying on the foot of his bed. It looks like they’ll fit, but you won’t know for sure until you try them on. As you reach for the garments, you realize you don’t have any underwear to put on except what you had on earlier. Shawn must have thought of that too because there’s a brand new pair of small black boxer shorts laying there as well.

You hum softly to yourself as you get dressed, everything smells like Shawn and a little more, it’s oddly comforting.

There’s a knock at the door and you nearly jump out of your skin. You turn to see Shawn peeking through a small crack before opening it and stepping through. He smiles, and the apples of his cheeks slightly lift the glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. “Oh, good! They fit,” he says as he gestures to your clothes.

You nod. Though you find being in Shawn’s room makes you feel safe, you aren’t sure if you can trust him. You stare at him in silence, unsure of what you should say.

Shawn stops just inside the door. “I need to redress your wounds. Do you want to eat something first?”

You shake your head softly and sit on the end of the bed. Shawn waits for you to let him know you’re okay with him approaching you, and you do with a small nod. You reach for your left shoulder, you hadn’t looked for any of the more gruesome injuries, but the bite mark on it had caught your eye. You can’t remember what happened when you got it, but you know it was probably from one of the guys from― You shake the thought from your head and look up at Shawn.

You know you probably shouldn’t say anything, there’s no guarantee he will believe you but you need to know. You swallow. “I― There’s something you should know. A-about me. I’m not, um . . .”

Shawn smirks as he walks to your side with a first aid kit in his hands. “I know.” He chuckles lightly at your reaction and continues, “Zack could smell you before he could see you, and you were still shifted when he found you. You stayed that way for a while, I guess you finally shifted back in your sleep this morning.”

It makes sense enough, but something still bothers you. If you’ve been asleep for three days, why aren’t you healed yet? As if he can tell what you’re thinking, Shawn gently pats the mattress next to you.

“Hey, don’t worry about it right now. We’ll get you fixed up and then we’ll figure out the rest.”

Your gaze drops to your lap where you’ve folded your hands. Nervously you reach for the hem of the shirt you’re wearing and with Shawn’s help, you lift it over your head. You wince, your hand quickly shoots up to your shoulder. The bite is bleeding and the pain in your arm is noticeable again.

“Here, let me help.” Shawn reaches for you and his touch is soft, he turns you so that your back is to him. You blush slightly, remembering that you’re sitting half-naked in front of a total stranger. You’re thankful for his manners. He shuffles behind you for a couple seconds, then the bed dips behind you. One of his hands settles between your shoulder blades. “This is gonna sting like hell, but it’ll keep your shoulder from getting infected while you heal. Tell me when.”

You take a breath and nod your head. “Okay.”

Shawn brings his left hand up to your shoulder, and it’s warm against your skin. He’s rubbing something sticky into the wound, and you suddenly know why he braced his hand against you. The salve hurts, more than you expect, and you throw yourself back. Shawn’s hand presses between your shoulders, and his voice sounds softly by your ear. “I know, I know.” His hand snakes around your back and rests on your right shoulder, holding you to his chest as he continues to spread the paste into the bite. “I’m sorry, but I promise this will help.”

You whine in answer, but do your best to stay still. Shawn coos gently in your ear and you settle down a bit. As quickly as the pain started, it stops. You’re braced against Shawn’s chest, heaving. He has your head tucked under his chin, and he’s staring out of the window. You sit up with a shudder, the pain in your shoulder has died to a dull pulse, it’s annoying but tolerable. You glance behind you at Shawn and he’s looking down into the first aid kit, he pulls out a small jar and hands it to you.

“For the cut on your cheek,” he points to the side of his own face. “I don’t have anything for the bruises, but this salve will help you heal and keep infection from setting in. Make sure you let it dry completely before applying.”

“Thanks,” you say as you take it from him and slip your shirt on again. You want to ask him why he’s being so nice to you, but you don’t. You still don’t know if Shawn’s lying to you or not, and you can’t afford to take a chance on Patrick and Ethan finding you.

“Come downstairs when you’re ready. We need to have a meeting, and Sasha made breakfast.” He closes the first aid kit and gives you a firm nod, then heads for the door. He doesn’t bother pulling it shut behind him this time and it irks you. For as gentle as he was moments ago, he sure switched moods quickly. You wonder if being here is bad idea, but what other choice do you have? You know you can’t avoid the pack forever, and you are hungry. You have questions you’re sure Shawn has answers for.

You grab the hoodie that Shawn left on the end of the bed and head for the door. The hallway you’re in winds around a corner, Shawn’s room is at the end. You count four other doors on your way down, minus the bathroom at the top of the stairs, and you assume those must be bedrooms too.

You reach the bottom of the stairs and take a moment to mentally prepare for what’s coming. You’re not sure what the meeting is about but you know it’s important, Shawn’s attitude told you as much.

You round the corner and walk down the small hallway into the kitchen. In front of you is a room full of people, all seem to be around your age. You instantly recognize Zack and Jesse, the brothers you met earlier. And there’s a girl standing over a griddle of pancakes by the stove, you deduce that’s Sasha since Shawn mentioned she’d made breakfast. There’s a small group seated around the dining room table, most of them have their backs to you and you don’t care to interrupt whatever conversation they’re having. But it’s the trio sitting at the breakfast bar to your left that catches you off guard.

You know the shirtless one in the middle with the dark unruly curls is Shawn, and you must be suffering from a concussion because you see three of him. Immediately to his right, sits a smaller version of him, this one with softer curls and glasses. Hold on, did he redress my wounds? On the stool to Shawn’s left near the backdoor, is a yet another version of him, slightly taller but not quite as large, his own dark chocolate curls are slicked back.

They notice you staring and each of them grins at you knowingly. You can’t help but stand in stunned silence and gawk.

The girl turns to you, a plate stacked up with perfectly fluffy golden pancakes in her hands. She smiles and hands it to you. “Come on in, we don’t bite. There’s an open space at the bar between Shawn and Raul. I’m Sasha.” They both look up expectantly as she calls their names. “I hope you like pancakes.”

“There’s three of you!” you blurt suddenly, ignoring Sasha’s offer.

“We’re triplets.” Smaller Shawn hums, he’s got a book in his hands as he eats, glasses perched on the end of his nose. “How’s the shoulder?”

“You . . .”

The one Sasha called Raul stares at you, lips pulled into a thin line, eyebrows furrowed in . . . what is that, curiosity? Frustration? A mixture of the two? You’re not sure what to make of his expression as he regards you briefly before plopping his ass down on the stool behind him. It’s a show of dominance and disapproval, and you hate him. Just like Patrick. You think, face scrunching up in disgust.

Shawn glances between you and Raul, then elbows his brother in the side. “Scoot over, asshat. Let her sit.”

“Hmph,” Raul mutters and he glares at you, bringing his left hand down to rub lightly over his ribs. You duck your head under his heavy gaze.

“Raul,” Shawn growls. “Move.” He stands up from his stool and turns to the man next to him, sizing him up. He puffs up his chest, moving the stool back to give him some room. His mouth is open in a snarl, though his body language remains relaxed. He’s serious but he doesn’t think his brother poses a threat.

You watch quietly as Raul stands again and throws his barstool back; it comes to a stop behind him, Jesse’s hand on the surface of the seat. Raul is big, he’s not as muscular as Shawn is, but his broad shoulders and height make him just as intimidating, if not more so. You can see his sharp canines as he bares his teeth back at Shawn; brother challenging brother.

Raul reminds you of Patrick and your heart beats wildly inside of your chest. You’re not good with fighting, always staying as far away from it as possible. You’d tuck tail and run if you weren’t rooted to the floor with a plate of hot pancakes in your hands. It’s clear Raul means business as he steps toward Shawn, he shoves him back and returns Shawn’s growl with one of his own.

The smaller of the triplets stands and quickly steps between his brothers, his expression is one of boredom. He grabs them each by the arm and pushes them toward the sliding door. “If you’re going to fight like dogs, do it outside.” His tone is commanding, and you’re surprised when Shawn’s hand finds the door handle. You’re less surprised when Raul wrenches his arm free of his brother’s grasp.

“Back off, Peter.” Shawn.

“This is between me and Shawn.” Raul.

You commit their behaviours to memory as the attitude in the room changes. The atmosphere becomes stifling, everyone waits for the brothers to make their next move. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the way Shawn repeatedly clenches and unclenches his fists, the gears in his head turning at lightning speed. His eyes find yours across the room and you wonder if he’s holding back for your sake or if he’s actually considering pummeling Raul right where they stand. If he wants to beat his brother into the ground, he never gets the chance. One of the other men in the room stands from his place at the table, his voice booms over the growling pair.

“Enough! We have more important things to do than watching you two dicks thrash each other to kingdom come. In case either of you has forgotten, we still don’t know what’s going on here.” He turns to you with a friendly smile. “Forgive their raging testosterone, everyone’s a bit . . . on edge.”

“You’re the leaders of this pack, act like it,” Peter says, addressing his brothers as he sits back down at the bar. He takes what is meant to be your seat, the stool between Raul and Shawn. He looks up at you with kind eyes and a soft smile. “Sit and eat, please.” Peter nods to the stool next to him as Shawn takes his spot once again, leaving Raul by the back door.

“Animals,” Sasha states, shaking her head. She gives you a quick wink and turns back to the griddle.

The rest of breakfast is quiet, everyone falls back into what you assumed was their usual routines. If Raul has anything to say to or about you, he keeps it to himself. You learn from bits and pieces of conversation here and there that Raul is the oldest of the triplets and the most suspicious of newcomers. Peter is the youngest and probably the sweetest of the three, he’s quiet but he takes charge when he needs to. And he definitely took care of your shoulder. Shawn’s in the middle, he’s got a fire inside him like you’ve never seen before and it only pulls you in faster.

After breakfast you’re pleasantly surprised to find that everyone helps Sasha clean the kitchen. It’s a pack effort as dishes are washed, dried, and handed down the line to be put away. The stools returned to the breakfast bar, chairs tucked in around the dining table, and leftovers stashed away in the refrigerator for later.

Once all is said and done, the guy who stepped in to help Peter calm the fighting, Chris―ushers everyone to the living room.

You lean against the wall shared by the living room and the kitchen, surveying the group in front of you. Zack and Jesse sprawl out on the floor in front of a long L-shaped couch. Chris sits at one end of the couch with another guy you still have yet to meet, they’re close and you wonder how long they’ve known each other. Sasha and three other girls you hadn’t even noticed when you walked into the kitchen, all sit huddled together at the other end of the couch, you assume they’re either sisters or best friends, before remembering that this is how wolf packs are―affection comes with the territory. Shawn and his brothers sit in the middle of the couch, they forget their previous disagreement as they switch easily from typical brothers to leaders of their pack.

Raul quirks an eyebrow and looks at you suspiciously, you know it’s because they’re all waiting for you to sit down, the meeting is about you after all. You’re content to stand against the wall, in case you feel the need to run, you won’t have to worry about needing to stand first. You look back at Raul questioningly, wanting them to get it over with already, but he continues to stare at you.

“They won’t begin until you sit. I don’t know how things are done in your old pack, but here we wait until everyone is present and accounted for,” Sasha tells you softly. She nods toward the small loveseat sleeper sofa that’s angled by the short end of the L-shaped couch next to where Chris sits.

You stand up straighter with your back against the wall, you spread your feet apart, firmly planting yourself in that spot. You fold your arms across your chest and lift your chin. This display of defiance in front of the pack doesn’t go unnoticed by the Mendes brothers who shift uncomfortably, Raul and Peter turn to Shawn, waiting for him to regain control.

Shawn stands. The look in his eyes tells you he won’t allow this kind of outburst, but you’re not ready to accept your place in this pack. He steps away from the couch, staring you down, his demeanour in this moment is so different from way it was with Raul. He’s inviting you to challenge him, daring you to make the move he knows you so desperately want to.

He’s fed up with your obstinance; he growls low, a warning. Raul and Peter are the only ones who move next, they flank Shawn but keep their eyes locked on the others. “You can sit or you can run, it’s your call,” he says as he slowly moves closer.

You can tell it’s not the first time he’s dealt with something like this, his tone is far too commanding for this to be a one-off thing. He growls once again, louder this time, and you know it’s the last warning he’s willing to give you. All eyes are on you.

You push yourself off of the wall and walk over to the loveseat. Running isn’t an option for you, you need the help and you know this is the only place you can get it. You need their help if you’re going to stop Ethan and Patrick. You take a seat, keeping your eyes trained on Shawn’s face as you do.

Shawn relaxes his shoulders, a signal to his brothers to stand down. He’s satisfied with your decision, but keeps his guard up just in case. The three of them sit back down and the rest of the pack settles in.

“You already met Zack and Jesse, but this is the rest of our pack. Next to you are Chris and Sam, two of my best friends and the only people I trust almost as much as I trust my brothers.” At Shawn’s words, Chris and Sam acknowledge you with a small wave of their hands. “Raul and Peter left and started their own packs; I stayed and took over everything here when our parents left. Zack, Jesse, and Grace found their way to us about two years ago.” One girl next to Sasha perks up upon hearing her name. She’s smaller than the others, but you can tell she’s just as feisty.

“When I returned, Allison came back with me. When Raul came home, so did Sasha and Vicki. We made the best choice for all of us and joined together; when it comes to leading the pack, we decide together. But Shawn has the final say in what we do,” Peter says, finishing the introductions.

“Which means Shawn is the deciding factor on whether you stay or go. Everyone you see here means something to each one of us, we’re family. When someone in our family is threatened, we are all threatened.” Raul sits forward, eyeing you with the same skepticism from earlier.

Shawn gently nudges Raul in the side. “What my brother means to say is as long as you choose to be here, to be part of our pack―our family―you’re safe. You will have a place here just like everyone else. Ultimately, the choice is yours. We’ve all had hard lives at one time or another, we all know what it’s like to feel alone in this world, and we won’t turn you away.”

“If you stay, you’ll be part of our pack and expected to behave like it. But if you run, we won’t be able to help you.” Peter pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and settles back into the couch, you note the way he seems to shift closer to Shawn. You think it must be comforting, having two other people to be so close to, who share your DNA and can tell what you’re thinking from a simple look or a small touch.

“Obviously, you don’t have to accept the offer, but understand two very important things. Here, you’re safe. Out there, you’re on your own.” Shawn glances around the room, gauging everyone’s reactions to what’s been said. He receives various noises of affirmation, no one dares dispute his last word. He looks back at you, waiting for your answer.

You haven’t truly spoken since before you came downstairs, since you talked to Shawn in his room. You need protection, stability, family―but you can’t go home. This is as good as it gets unless you want to find somewhere else to be, someone else to take pity on you. The thought makes you cringe, you’re not a charity case, you’re a lone wolf running from exile. You should be dead, but you’re not and you’re unsure if that should mean something to you.

Movement to your right startles you, but Chris is quick to reconcile his mistake. He gently touches your knee, gaining your attention, and offers a soft smile. You know he’s silently speaking to the truth behind Shawn, Peter, and Raul’s words. Chris’s care eases your discomfort a bit, just enough for the desire to accept their offer to creep in.

“Okay,” you say, voice steady as you take a deep breath. “I accept your offer and I agree with everything you said. But make no mistake, I’m not some stray you’re bringing in off the street. I don’t need your help; I don’t need anyone.”

Raul laughs dryly, the sound settles like a rock in the pit of your stomach. He pushes the sleeves of his jacket up and you see his arms for the first time, they’re covered in various tattoos, completing his rough-around-the-edges persona. He looks at you now with an intensity that makes it feel like he sees right through your lie. “Oh, but see, you do. Or you wouldn’t be sitting here.”

TBTP: @marcellarv @yournameoneverypage @im-salt-but-not-salty

The music bumps through the speakers and surges through your body as you walk across the club to get to your friends. You can feel the vibrations throughout your ribcage, the bass of some remixed song you’ve heard on the radio making you feel like you’re in the middle of experiencing an earthquake.

It’s not that you don’t want to be here, it’s just you’d rather be at home considering the circumstances. A few weeks ago your boyfriend broke up with you. You weren’t really affected by it, in fact you were going to break up with him after the new year rolled in. There was hardly any chemistry between the both of you and neither of you could imagine a future together. You had just wanted it to last through the holidays and especially new year’s, but apparently he had other ideas.

The whole situation saved you money on holiday gifts, but totally put a dent in your planned out new year’s celebration. Your best friend got an insane deal through her family connections to have her and three guests stay at one of the fanciest and most expensive hotels in Toronto for practically nothing. The plan was to have her and her boyfriend have one room and you and your boyfriend to have another. It was supposed to be a fun double date type of celebration and now it’s just a date for your friend and a third wheel option for you.

You tried your hardest to maybe get the plans switched to a girl’s trip and you’d both invite two of your other friends instead, but you understood how desperately your best friend wants this and how excited she is to ring in the new year with her man. You couldn’t ask her to give that up just because you didn’t want to feel like a third wheel on new year’s. She promised you you wouldn’t feel excluded and that the three of you would have fun together, but based on how the night’s going so far, you don’t think that promise will hold up.

When the three of you first arrived to the hotel, it was amazing. You all unpacked and then spent the rest of the day exploring different parts of the city you’d never seen before. The shopping around here was incredible and you and your best friend had an amazing time trying on different outfits for tonight and making her boyfriend rate them. He was constantly flustered but the both of you loved it.

Once it came time to the actual party, that’s when things started to go downhill, at least for you. The club inside the hotel was packed and the music, people, and drinks seemed to pour in from every direction. You thought you’d feed off the energy and have one of the best nights you’ve had in a long time with your two friends, but once the three of you started drinking, Y/F/N and her boyfriend couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They were dancing and making out, all good things, but that promise of not leaving you alone and the three of you having fun together was crumbling fast. You can’t blame them for having fun, God knows everyone deserves a night off to let lose after the past few years we’ve had, but it’s making it hard for you to have fun with them.

You keep trying to venture off and find other people to party with and give Y/F/N and her boyfriend some time alone together; make some new friends or meet a new guy to ring in the new year with, but everyone seems to have their own group or person already.

To be honest you’re completely ready to give up and just go back to your hotel room. Maybe take a nice bubble bath in the insanely huge jacuzzi tub and drink some champagne as the clock ticks down to midnight, but part of you also just wants to hang out for a little longer. You’re not sure when the next time an opportunity to spend the night in a place like this will come again, and you want to soak up every second of it, even if you are technically third wheeling through it all. Although the club is packed, you can still see how big and incredible it is. The architecture throughout the room is astounding. If anything it looks more like a ballroom than a club, but what else would you expect from a place like this? A night here probably costs more than a year’s worth of your rent.

“Hey, girly! Where’d you go?” Y/F/N asks as you finally find her and her boyfriend amongst the crowd on the dance floor. She has her arms wrapped around her boyfriend’s neck and is swaying side to side against him along to the beat of the song as he holds onto her hips.

“I was just looking around!” You yell over the music, hoping she can hear you even with the noise. “Seeing if I can find myself a handsome rich bachelor!”

Y/F/N throws her head back in a laugh and then shakes her head. “Sounds good to me. You find anyone yet?”

You shake your head and shrug your shoulders. “Nah, but it’s okay. This place is incredible, I swear I can just stare up at the ceiling all night and be satisfied.”

“Right! It still blows my mind we’re even here.” Your friend pulls away from her boyfriend and takes a step closer to you, not wanting the people around you to be in on your business. “Hey, I’m sorry again the plans got messed up and it’s just the three of us. I know you were gonna break up with Y/EX/N anyways, but still. I hope you’re still having fun.”

That right there is why Y/F/N is one of the best friends you’ve ever had. She’s constantly looking out for you and always making sure to check in. Even now while she’s having fun with her boyfriend, she’s here worrying about you and feeling bad. The gesture makes tears well up in your eyes and you hope she doesn’t notice.

“No, don’t be sorry! It’s not your fault. I’m having a wonderful time and it’s all thanks to you that i’m even here right now in this beautiful place. I love you so much, thank you for asking and checking in. I promise you i’m okay and i’m having fun,” you assure her. It’s not even a lie at this point, overall you are having a wonderful time and even if you’re on your own for the most part, at the end of the day it beats staying at home being actually alone and watching the countdown on tv. You had a couple dance sessions with Y/F/N and then with her and her boyfriend as well before they attached themselves together, so honestly you’ve had more than enough fun.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure. I love you too! And don’t even mention it, i’m in just as much disbelief as you are that we get to be here tonight!” Y/F/N reaches out and squeezes the side of your arm. “By the way, you look smokin’, babe!”

The both of you laugh at her remark and you toss your hip a little to the side as you stand impressed with your look as well. It took a while for you to find the perfect outfit for tonight while you were out earlier, but you found it nonetheless and love it.

“Thanks! As do you.”

“What can I say? I try my best,” Y/F/N flips a piece of her hair back in dramatics and you both end up laughing again. “But for real you look so good. I have a feeling some hot guy is gonna see you tonight and fall to his knees at the sight of you!”

You roll your eyes and tilt your head at your friend. “Yeah, yeah, if you say so. Hey, I’m gonna get another drink. Do you guys want anything?”

“I do say so! Mark my words, I feel it in my bones,” she wiggles her eyebrows at you and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. “And ooo, yes! i’ll take the same as you and let me ask tipsy over here.”

Y/F/N turns to her boyfriend to ask him if he wants anything to drink, but by the look of it he doesn’t seem to need anymore. He’s completely lose and enjoying himself, swaying along to the music and smiling when he notices his girlfriend is back in front of him.

You look across at the bar while you wait for your friends response and see there’s a large group surrounding it. You hope they’re not all there to get a drink, the wait time will be forever.

Looking back over at Y/F/N, you see she’s already back to being in a trance with her boyfriend. They look so sickeningly cute. She turns her head towards you, remembering you asked if her boyfriend wanted another drink, and shakes her head at you. Looks like you’ll just be needing to get two drinks then. You feel thankful for that considering you don’t really know how you would’ve managed to make your way back through this crowd while trying to hold three drinks.

You move away from your friends and head over to the bar area. The wall behind the bartender is illuminated in a deep blue hue and the shelves are lined with bottles upon bottles of different high-end brands of alcohol. The options are limitless, if you have the endless amounts of money to pay for it that is.

After brushing past a few people on the dance floor you finally make it to the bar, but are met with that big group you saw when you were still with your friends. From what you can tell they all just seem really excited and are messing around. None of them seem to be without a drink, so because they’re in front of the area you need to order at, you figure you can just squeeze through real quick and buy the drinks you need and get out.

“Excuse me!” You tap on the man’s arm right in front of you, hoping he’ll be able to notice you and move aside a bit so you can get through. You suddenly hear some excited yells mixed with cheers and are confused as to what’s going on. The guy looks over at you and before you can ask if you can squeeze by, you feel yourself get nudged from behind and are thrusted right in the middle of whatever it is that’s going on in the group.

Before you can process what’s happening, you feel some sort of chilled liquid being sprayed all over you. Your hands shoot up immediately to try and block the spray, but it’s too late, you’re practically soaked. The excited cheers around you quickly fade and then the spray is halted just as fast.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry!” You look up and see a tall guy with dark brown curls staring at you with a horrified look on his face. He’s holding a large bottle of champagne, some of it still bubbling out at the top. “Here let me get you some napkins.”

Shaking your hands in the air to try and get some of the champagne off, you roll your eyes and step closer to the bar. Of course this would happen! You buy a new outfit for new year’s and it gets trashed less than twenty-four hours after buying it, typical. Besides the ruined outfit, you feel sticky and gross. This is definitely not the way you wanted to end the year, or start the new one.

“Relax, dude. Maybe she wanted to get in on the action!” Some guy says from behind you and you have to fight the urge to say something snarky to him. It’s not worth it, the damage is already done.

“Shut the hell up, Brian!” A guy from beside you says and you look up to see it’s the same one who got champagne all over you in the first place.

“Whatever,” ‘Brian’ mumbles. “C’mon, guys let’s hit the dance floor!” The other men around him cheer and all look completely wasted out of their minds. They follow Brian out on the floor and begin to mix and mingle with a group of girls dancing together, leaving you behind with their friend. Some guys.

“Here’s some napkins, they’re all I could find.” He hands you a bunch of small bar napkins, but they’re cheap material for being napkins at a place like this. All they do is get stuck to your hands and start to tear. You do your best to dab at the droplets on your arms and soak up what you can from your clothes. It isn’t perfect but it’ll do for now. You’ll have to go upstairs to clean up thoroughly and change.

“Thanks,” you manage to get out. It feels wrong to thank the guy who did this to you, but at least he stuck around and tried to help out. A lot of other people would just laugh it off and walk away, just like his friends.

The bartender walks over when he sees you and you tell him your order as you begin to ball up all the napkins you used. They’re wet and gross feeling so you quickly toss them over the bar counter into the trashcan while the bartender is making your drinks.

“I’m sorry about what happened, no one else was supposed to be in the middle of that. My friends and I were just messing around, they wanted to get sprayed I-“ He takes a breath and shakes his head, realizing him and his friends’ reasoning won’t solve anything. “I’ll buy you a new outfit if you’d like to replace that one, really I’m-“

“It’s whatever, don’t worry about it.” You quickly say, really wanting him to just drop it and walk away. You don’t feel like a million bucks anymore now that you’ve been drenched back to reality, and to be fair this guy is pretty good-looking. You wanna be pissed at him, but it’s hard to be with a face like his. The best thing to do is just forget it and move on.

The bartender places the two drinks you ordered on the counter in front of you and you take them instantly, wanting to head back to your friends as soon as possible. You turn around and sneak a quick glance at the guy next to you. He’s taller and broader than you thought, but somehow lean at the same time. He’s wearing all black; a blazer fitted over a button up with the sleeves pushed up his arms, fitted dress pants, and a pair of dress shoes you don’t even want to know the price of. He’s oozing wealth and luxury and honestly you could see yourself falling for him simply based off his sincere kindness and appearance, but first impressions are everything and he did spray you with a bunch of champagne. It was an accident sure, but from how his friends acted it seems like this scene isn’t new to him, and you’re not completely obsessed with the idea of having a boyfriend who parties all the time. Such is life, at least he was nice to look at for a few minutes.

“Happy New Year,” you mumble out before quickly rushing past him, getting lost in the sea of people on the dance floor as you go back to Y/F/N and her boyfriend.

“Here’s your drink!” You shout to your friend as you find them in the crowd. She let’s go of her boyfriend smiling to reach out and grab the glass, but it falls as she notices you and the state of your outfit.

“Ohmygod, what happened!?” She shrieks as she takes a step back to really take you all in. You don’t look awful, it’s just the fact she can tell your outfit looks completely different from the last time she saw you, which was mere minutes ago.

“I found a hot guy, but he sure didn’t fall to his knees,” You try to joke, but can tell your friend is concerned so you drop the lightheartedness and fill her in on everything that happened. She gasps at certain parts and by the end of it looks like she’s ready to beat someone up.

“What a douche bag!” She huffs before taking a sip of her drink to cool off. She hates guys like the ones you encountered, partially because one of her exes was just like them.

“Eh, he was fine. It was more his friends. He did offer to buy me a new outfit but I just brushed it off. At least he stayed behind and tried to help me clean up.”

Y/F/N nods her head in agreement, the guy didn’t seem all bad, she was really just mad her best friend had to deal with that and have her new outfit ruined. “That’s true, ugh I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay. It could’ve been worse honestly. I’m just gonna head upstairs and clean up.”

“Alright, you’ll be back, right?” Y/F/N looks over at the huge clock on one of the walls of the club. “There’s less than an hour til’ midnight!”

“Yeah, sure,” you reply, but by the look on your friend’s face you know she can tell you’re not even positive you’ll come back down. Celebrating new year’s eve with your friends has been pretty fun, but you’re not sure you’ll be able to handle the countdown and everyone around you sharing a new year’s kiss while you stand there alone. You don’t need a man, you’re perfectly fine on your own, but having a special someone to ring in the new year with was something you were really excited for and now you don’t have it.

“Okay,” she reaches out with her free hand and lightly squeezes your wrist as she looks at you, smiling fondly. “Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Happy New Year, Y/F/N.” You give your best friend a small smile, appreciative of her and her understanding, and then leave to head back upstairs for the night.

Making your way out of the club to get to the elevators, you stop by the bar to drop off your glass, and also silently hope you’ll see champagne guy again. Sadly, he’s nowhere to be seen. Probably off with his friends and that group of girls they walked to earlier. Oh well.

You reach the elevator and push the up button. Looking down, you notice your clothes have almost dried, the look of the wet stain practically gone. The fabric still feels a little sticky though which makes you shudder a bit. Gross.

The elevator dings before you, signaling it’s arrival. You step on as soon as the doors open and press the number twenty-two on the panel. Before the doors can start to close you hear a yell from someone asking to hold the elevator. You act fast and press the doors open button, hoping it’ll hold for the person trying to get on.

“Thanks!” Someone says as they dart through the elevator doors just in time before they start to close again. You look up ready to say ‘you’re welcome’ but the words seem to escape you as you realize who it is that stepped onto the elevator with you.

Him.

Champagne guy.

Oh no.

It seems simultaneously you both recognize who the other one is and the two of you appear to retreat to different corners of the elevator instantly.

“Uh- w-what floor,” you stammer out, unsure of how to act in this situation.

“Twenty-two.” You freeze at his answer. Is he trying to hit on you? Invite himself to your room or something? He had to have seen the light on the floor you previously selected. How else would he know?

“You’re on floor twenty-two?” You question, wanting to see what he’ll do.

“Yeah, why?” He looks around you and notices the already lit up button. His eyes widen a little as he realizes what this must look like. “I swear i’m in room twenty-two seventeen, look.” He pulls out a room key from his back pocket and it does in fact have those numbers in bold on it.

You nod your head, letting him know you believe him, and then turn back to facing the elevator doors as it continues to take you up. You glance at what floor you’re on right now and nearly groan at the number eight flashing at you. Damn this slow elevator.

Trying your best not to make any sudden movements, feeling a little nervous and jittery from being so close to this guy now, you tense as you can feel his eyes on you from behind. You can tell he wants to say something, but you’re hoping he doesn’t. Really, what’s there left to say anyways?

“I really am so sorry for what happened back at the bar.” And there he goes. You nearly sigh when he speaks, for the fact you don’t really want to go through this again but also because his voice is pretty attractive. “I know what you must be thinking but I promise I’m not like my friends. I wouldn’t do something like that on purpose and I just want you to know I feel bad and that I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d buy you a new outfit.”

It’s as if he read your mind when you were both at the bar. Does he have to stick up for himself a lot because of his friends? If he doesn’t want people to group him as someone like them, why hangout with people like that anyways?

You turn around and face him, thinking it’s the least you can do considering the fact he does genuinely seem to feel bad about what happened. From what you can tell he doesn’t seem like a bad guy and it’s not the end of the world you got sprayed with champagne. Maybe on a voluntary basis it would’ve actually been fun.

“Seriously don’t worry about it. I forgive you, it’s not the worst thing to happen. And thank you for offering to buy me something new, but you don’t have to. Apologizing and meaning it is enough. I appreciate it.” He nods his head and gives you a small smile which you return. The guy goes to say something else but suddenly the elevator comes to a halt; going up and then down while shaking, the lights flickering for a moment, before completely stopping. You stumble a bit and the guy reaches his hand out to grasp your arm and stable you. You regain your balance and look up at the lights to indicate what floor you’re on. It says twenty-two, but the doors haven’t opened yet.

Reaching out towards the button to open the doors, you press it and wait for the elevator to open and let you out. Nothing happens so you press it again, but still nothing. The lights above you flicker again so you refrain from pressing the button another time, fearing it may lead to the elevator malfunctioning even more.

A throat is cleared beside you and you twist around to find champagne guy standing much closer and pointing towards the panel. “May I?”

Nodding your head, you move aside so he can get closer to the panel. You’re not sure what more he can do considering pressing the button to open the doors did absolutely nothing, but why not let him have a shot anyways.

Before you can question what he plans on doing, he pushes the button with a telephone on it. A pretty loud ring goes off a few times before someone picks up. You probably should’ve done that instead of pushing the same button over and over. You’re grateful the guy can’t see the blush begin to creep up your face.

“Hello?” A voice comes through from the speakers and you nearly cheer. You always thought those call buttons were just for show or rarely worked. Maybe you’d be able to get out of here soon and not be stuck with some guy you know nothing about.

“Yes! Hi!” The guy leans down towards the speakers on the panel as he talks. You don’t think he needs to speak into them, but the view of his arms flexing as he holds himself up prevents you from saying anything. He’s fine just as he is. “I’m a guest here at the hotel and I’m stuck in the elevator with another guest. We were riding up to the twenty-second floor and the elevator just stopped. The doors won’t open or anything. Can you send someone to fix it and get us out of here?”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir. We’ll do our best to try and get you out but it’s going to be several hours until we can get someone out here to fix it.”

“What!?” You can’t help but to shriek out. There’s no way you can be stuck in here for several hours on new year’s eve. Sure, you were planning on spending the rest of it in the bath with some champagne, but that’s better than being stuck in an elevator that could essentially breakdown even more any minute with a guy you’ve never met before. “You have to get us out of here! Why is it going to take so long? What if something else happens to the elevator?”

You move towards the panel and the guy steps aside so you can hear the staff member better.

“I’m sorry, ma’am but it’s new year’s eve and you’re in one of the best cities in Canada. The traffic is endless and it’ll take our maintenance staff a while to get here with the supplies they need.” What!? You figure in a place like this they’d have endless staff on hand for things like this. If they have to drive here, new year’s will be over by the time they arrive. This is why you and your friends walked everywhere today, even in the daylight the traffic was brutal so you can’t even imagine what it’s like now.

You groan and lean your back against the elevator wall beside you. “This is a nightmare,” you grumble.

The guy looks over and notices how defeated and upset you look. He feels bad, not just because he sprayed you with champagne but because he knows this isn’t the way you wanted to spend your new year’s eve, it’s not how anyone would want to spend it. He inches closer to you and the panel and you press up against the wall just a little bit more, flustered by his sudden closeness.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else you can do?” He pauses, glances at you for a second, then turns back towards the panel. You can tell there’s something on his mind; he looks almost uncomfortable as he continues speaking. “I’m-I’m Shawn Mendes.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at what he’s said. Why would telling the staff who he is change anything? From what you can tell he’s not anyone famous…

It hits you.

Mendes.

As in the Mendes Group, one of (if not the) biggest and most influential corporations in Toronto, in Canada even. No matter what it is, business, management, public relations, anything and everything, Mendes Group is typically behind it. There’s no wonder why ‘Shawn’ looks like he just walked out of a Vogue magazine, he comes from money, both old and new. To be fair he probably has been on Vogue that’s how important and influential his family is. Him and his family probably stay in this hotel all the time, God knows they can afford it.

“Oh! Mr. Mendes! My apologies! I’ll see what I can do for you right away, sir!” The staff member rushes out and it makes you want to roll your eyes. Of course they’ll jump right on the problem if it’s someone rich and powerful asking.

The line goes dead and suddenly the elevator is filled with silence. You’re not sure what to say, clearly Shawn was apprehensive to say his name, you’re not sure why though. You flick your eyes up towards him and can see a faint pink color bloom on his cheeks as he stares down at the speakers on the panel.

Shawn opens his mouth to say something, but the words seem to get stuck in his throat. He doesn’t even know what to say. What are you supposed to say after using your name and status to gain an advantage? This girl must think he’s a typical stuck up rich guy who thinks everyone should and will fall to their knees at his request. He wants her to know how wrong that assumption is, but before he figures out what to say, the call button lights up and a loud ringing floods the elevator.

Quickly pressing on the telephone icon, Shawn answers. “Hello?”

“Mr. Mendes I’ve looked into the matter further and our staff is on their way to help solve the issue. I am sorry to say that it will still be at least an hour before they’re able to get you out.”

Both you and Shawn groan at the worker’s response. An hour? At least?

“I understand, thank you for doing what you can.” Shawn pushes himself off the panel and moves back to the other corner of the elevator. He sinks down to the ground and presses his back up against the wall, sitting with his knees pushed up and his arms laying across them.

“Of course, sir. My apologies for the inconvenience and happy new year!” The line goes dead and you almost want to laugh at the response. Happy new year, sorry you’re trapped in an elevator!

Considering you’ll be stuck in here for who knows how long, you follow in Shawn’s footsteps and sink to the ground as well. You stretch out your legs in front of you and lean your head back against the wall. Might as well get comfortable.

Reaching into your small bag, you pull out your phone to look at the time. 11:15 p.m. Even if the maintenance people come within an hour, the new year would’ve already rang in. You no longer even get the luxury of deciding to go back downstairs to celebrate with your friends.

“What’s the time?” Lost in your thoughts, you nearly jump at the sound of Shawn’s voice. You clear your throat before looking over at him and responding.

“Uh, eleven-fifteen.” Shawn nods his head and you give him a tight-lipped smile. You’re not sure how to keep the conversation going.

The curly-haired man sighs before biting his lip and looking over at you. “You probably think I’m a dick, huh?”

The question is blunt and not at all what you were expecting him to say. You figure you’d both think of something to talk about eventually, being stuck in the same confined space for so long, but this definitely isn’t one of the topics you’d believe would come up.

“No?” You reply, but it comes out more like a question. From what you can tell he’s not an awful guy, he apologized for what happened earlier and even offered to buy you new clothes. The only thing you find weird is how he got flustered when saying who he was, you figure a guy like him would be used to showing off and making his presence known.

He chuckles, acknowledging your confusion and visible internal conflict. He wouldn’t know what to think of himself either considering the experiences he’s shared with you tonight. “I promise you whatever you’re thinking of me right now, I’m the exact opposite.”

“And what if I thought you were a great guy who isn’t some arrogant jerk who comes from money? You’re telling me you are that arrogant rich jerk?” You’re teasing him and you’re glad he doesn’t take offense as you watch a smile break out onto his face. It’s clear he wants you to understand something about him, you’re just not sure what that is yet.

“Ha-ha, very funny. If you really think I’m a good guy, I thank you for that. Everyone always just kinda assumes I am that rich jerk who likes to party and not take any responsibility.” His smile falters and a part of you feels bad knowing that’s almost exactly what you thought after he sprayed you with champagne. “I hate having to use my name like that, but it’s the only thing I could think of to try and speed along the process. I figured if you heard my name and knew who I was you’d act differently or want something from me. Everyone always does.”

You shake your head knowing you’d never do that to someone. Rich and influential or not, humans are humans and deserve to be treated respectfully. Even the ones who do act like stuck up dicks deserve kindness (well, sometimes). “Honestly, I know very little about you. All I really know is your family owns some massive company that’s super successful. As far as I know you’re just some guy I met in a hotel club on new year’s eve.”

Shawn’s smile returns to his face again and it causes you to smile as well. He’s grateful to you for showing him some kindness, he’s so used to being pulled in fifty different directions at once and having people expect perfection from him always. If he’s going to be stuck in an elevator with anyone, he’s glad it’s someone like you.

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” Shawn nods his head at you and you nod yours in return. “So how come you were leaving the party so early? Please tell me I didn’t ruin your night completely.” He cringes, thinking about the possibility his careless actions forced you to leave behind whoever you were with, and it makes you laugh.

Shaking your head, you shrug your shoulders. “Not entirely. I told my friend I was gonna go upstairs to change and come back but we both knew I wasn’t really gonna go back down. If anything you spraying me with champagne gave me an out.”

Shawn’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and you feel the need to elaborate. It’s not like you don’t have the time.

“I was dating this guy and we broke up a couple weeks ago. I didn’t take it to heart, it wasn’t going anywhere and it was inevitable, but the thing that sucked is that my best friend had this whole trip planned already. She got a deal from her family or something and made it into this double date new year’s celebration. Her and her boyfriend, and me and mine. When my boyfriend and I broke up it really threw everything for a loop. I kinda was hoping she’d turn it into a girl’s trip but who would want to give up a stay in a hotel like this with their boyfriend? So, it’s just me and the both of them and we had fun this morning together but actually going to the party with them was a whole different story. We got a few dances in but then we started drinking and now they’re attached at the hip. I tried to still enjoy it but it’s hard when everyone there basically already has their own person. I didn’t really wanna stick around for the countdown and watch everyone else have their new year’s kiss and I just stood there. Maybe that makes me shallow, I don’t know, but I figured a nice night in with myself and the jacuzzi upstairs would be just fine for me.”

You can’t meet Shawn’s eyes. You don’t know why you just poured all of that out to him, you could’ve just lied. There’s something about him that makes you feel like it’s okay to be open with him though. He kind of opened up to you so it’s fine you opened up to him, right?

“I don’t think that makes you shallow at all. Trust me, I know exactly what you mean. It sucks to feel so alone in a room full of people.” You look up at Shawn and give him a small smile. He put exactly how you felt into words. “I’m sorry about all that.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. At least I’ll have you to ring in the new year with.” A blush forms across your cheeks. I can’t believe I said that, you think.

He smirks but you can see a faint hint of red on his cheeks. “Maybe I can help you out with that new year’s kiss too,” he mumbles sheepishly. If your face didn’t feel hot before, it sure does now. You’re not sure what to reply with, never being fully good with flirting, so you try to change the subject.

“So enough about me. What about you? Why’d you leave early? I know you said earlier you’re not solely the party type, but your friends seem to think differently.” Shawn rolls his eyes and lets out a huff as he begins to fiddle with his fingers, looking lost in thought over the topic.

“My friends are- agh, I don’t know. They have a different perspective on stuff like that. They kind of see every day as an opportunity to get drunk or find the nearest party to let loose at. They think just because I come from a family that’s used to being invited to parties and attending different events every weekend, that im down with stuff like that. They kind of hold me to being the life of the party and I guess I sort of just deal with it even if it isn’t fully what I want.”

“Why stay friends with people like that? I assume there’s a lot of people around you like that, but surely not everyone in the industry is obsessed with that kind of stuff?” Shawn shrugs and tilts his head from side to side.

“Not everyone, you’re right, but a majority. It’s hard to find people who will like you just for you and not your money and where you come from. I know you must think that’s rich coming from someone who does come from wealth, but it’s true. I try my best to be authentic with people but either they think it’s just an act or they don’t care. Besides, those guys out there, I’ve known them my whole life, but sometimes I think me gaining more spotlight over the years changed them more than me. I know it may not seem like it but they can be good guys, it just gets to their head sometimes. They know me better than most people so at the end of the day I’m not as bothered, it just gets to me once in a while so I figured I’d leave and chill in my room.”

“I get where you’re at coming from. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must feel. To not be able to show off who you really are instead of what people just assume of you? That’s awful. And that sucks about your friends, if anything they should be there for you more instead of reveling in the fame you’ve gained since you started getting more involved with your family’s business. I don’t know what I’d do without my friends to help ground me when I need it most. Even if they know you well, having to handle stuff on your own or ground your own friends over something that hardly involves them seems insane. You don’t deserve that.”

“Thank you, really. Not a lot of people see it that way. I try to open up but I’m told it’ll pass or I’m overthinking. I know it sounds selfish but there’s times I wish I wasn’t involved with the business, that I could just do what I want and get involved with foundations im passionate about but can’t take part in because it contradicts clients we look over. I’m grateful to be in the position I’m in, I swear, the good outweighs the bad incredibly, I just wish things were different sometimes.”

“Shawn, being passionate about other things isn’t selfish. If anything it’s selfless. There’s so many people in your position that don’t care about anything or anyone but themselves. You should be able to do things you’re passionate about without worrying whether it combats some client’s company you work with. If it doesn’t hurt anyone it shouldn’t matter.” You don’t know why, but you feel strongly about helping Shawn and defending him. All he wants to do is live his life the way he wants and he’s essentially trapped down one path. Sure being born into wealth and influence isn’t something to complain about, but when it takes over who you are and prevents you from going after what you really want, that’s where a line is crossed.

“Do you mind saying all that again so I can record it and send it to my parents?” The both of you laugh and Shawn seems to relax a bit; stretching out and feeling comfortable telling this stuff to you.

“So, tell me,” you say as you scoot a tiny bit closer to him, feeling drawn in to his presence. “If you could do anything else with your life, anything at all, what would it be?”

“Besides taking part in all the foundations and charities I’m interested in? To be honest…” He hesitates. He looks over at you but he sees how genuinely interested you are. You seem so completely free of judgement and it makes him want to share everything with you. “I’d love to make music and tour around the world. Use my influence for good and spread as much love and kindness as I can. I know it sounds cheesy and a million others already do it but it’s something i’ve loved since I was a kid. I’d do anything to have my music out there.”

Your heart seems to melt at his confession and you can’t help but feel giddy over how shy and vulnerable Shawn looks right now. You can tell how serious he’s being and how hard this must be for him to admit.

“I know I’ve never heard you sing or play an instrument, but I know you’d be wonderful in music.” You giggle and Shawn smiles at the sound. “The way you talked about it makes it seem like you’ve written some songs before? What kind of songs have you written?”

Shawn nods his head, “Yeah, I’ve written a lot actually. I got my first real guitar when I was thirteen, a gift from my mom after she saw how obsessed I was with music, and I’ve been writing ever since. A lot of them are random or not any good, but majority of them are love songs. Some based on experience or a friend’s experience.”

“You ever been in love before, Mendes?” A daring question, but there’s a part of you that wants to know if he has a special someone waiting for him, a girl who’s managed to look past Shawn Mendes and just see Shawn.

He nods and scrunches his nose a little. “True love? Just once I’d say. There was this girl I loved since since I was about sixteen-ish. I met her through a friend and genuinely thought she was the one for me. We dated for a few years after what felt like forever in the friend-zone, but we broke up a while ago. Turns out the person you fall in love with when your sixteen isn’t always the one you’re meant to be with forever, even if it feels like that when you’re dating. We just weren’t that perfect couple I always thought we’d be. No bad blood or anything, but there’s definitely no chance we’ll get back together again and that’s okay.”

“Damn, Shawn. If that’s how you talk about a relationship, I’d do anything to see how you write songs about one.” Shawn laughs at your comment and you can’t help but to join in with him.

“I’ll have to sing you a few sometime,” he whispers and you smile while tilting your head to the side, pushing your shoulder into the side of your cheek a bit, feeling giddy and in awe over this man. “Well, now that you know basically everything deeply personal about me, what about you? What gets you out of bed each morning? What inspires you to be the best version of yourself and keep going?”

When you woke up this morning, you never expected this to be the way you spent your new year’s eve. With a stranger you met probably not even an hour ago, trapped in an elevator in a hotel you’d only dreamed of staying in. It’s completely random, but somehow perfect nonetheless. Meeting a person like Shawn would typically have you walking in the other direction, wanting anything but a moment trapped with him. But getting to know him, the real him, not just what the magazines, tabloids, and stereotypes make him out to be, has been incredible and you are so grateful you were extremely wrong about him. So, you dive into a bit of your past; you tell Shawn about what you’ve dreamed of since you were little, the projects and goals you hope to accomplish, and the life you want to lead. Of course you only give him as much as he gave you, knowing all too well this won’t be the last you see of Shawn Mendes. Somehow, you can tell this man is going to be a big part of your life.

Time seems to fly as you and Shawn get wrapped up in each other’s stories and thoughts. Before you know it your phone is going off and you’re jolted back to the present. You grab it, wondering what in the world it can be, and gasp as you realize there’s just barely two minutes left until midnight. You set an alarm earlier to let you know when it got close to twelve o’clock, not knowing if there’d be something to tell you the time in the club, and thankfully you did because you and Shawn would’ve missed the start of the new year without it!

“It’s almost midnight,” you rush out to Shawn, turning your phone so he can see the time.

“Wow, already!? I hadn’t realized how much time had passed. Do you need to call your friends or anything?” You shake your head at him as the two of you stand up.

“No, both my friends left their phones in their room. I was the only one who brought their phone. I doubt they’d answer anyways, it’s so loud down there I don’t think they’d even hear it ring. What about you? You need to call your friends or anything?”

“Nah, when I left them it looked like they were just fine ringing in the year with their drinks and that group of girls.” The both of you laugh and Shawn shakes his head, having no trouble picturing what his two best friends Brian and Matt must look like right now with the other guys as the clock counts down.

You look down at your phone and realize there’s only a minute left until the new year starts.

“Sixty seconds,” you say as you hold up the phone between you and Shawn, watching as the red second hand inches closer and closer to the number twelve.

There’s a mere fifteen seconds left until the clock strikes midnight and you notice out of the corner of your eye that Shawn takes a step closer to you. You glance up at him and take a breath before deciding to make one of the biggest shots you’ve ever made.

“So about that new year’s kiss?” Shawn smirks as he looks into your eyes, loving how bold yet nervous you are right now. He peers over at the phone in your hand and his smirk turns into a large grin as the second hand passes over the twelve and 12:00 a.m. pops up on the top of your screen.

“Happy New Year.” Shawn reaches out and cups your face with his hands before leaning in and kissing you. You’re shocked but also you aren’t considering you literally asked for this, you just can’t believe he actually went through with it.

It’s as if yours and Shawn’s lips were two pieces of a puzzle you weren’t ever quite able to find the missing piece for. The way they mold together so effortlessly makes you never want to kiss anyone else but him. You don’t know where this relationship will go, if it’s even any kind of relationship at all, but you do know you don’t want this to stop and that it feels so damn good.

A satisfied hum escapes you and you just know Shawn can feel the flush on your cheeks as he continues to cup your face. He smiles against your lips and you’d do anything to always be able to feel that feeling for the rest of your life.

You slip your phone into your bag before stretching your arms up to wrap your hands around the back of Shawn’s neck. You run your fingers through his hair and dear god is it soft. Pulling on the edges of it a little, you feel a warmth spread throughout your belly as Shawn groans into your mouth. He removes one hand from your face and grasps your hip before lightly pushing you back against the wall. You’re flush against his chest and you allow one of your hands to travel down to the spot just under his neck where he has a few buttons of his shirt undone. You lightly tug on the necklace he’s wearing and somehow lean even closer into him than you already were.

The elevator seems to become very warm as you and Shawn take it upon yourselves to explore each other with your hands, finding yourselves to be completely lost and entranced with one another.

Shawn moves his lips from your mouth down to your neck and you really feel as if you’ve never felt something as good as this. Before you’re able to process what’s happening, Shawn’s lifting up one of your legs and wrapping it around his hip, allowing himself even more room to push closer to you.

You feel him move his hips forward and it takes everything in you not to yell out in pleasure as you feel him press up against you between your legs.

Wow, does this man know how to make a girl feel good-

A ding is heard and suddenly the doors to the elevator open. You turn your head and your eyes widen at the sight of a maintenance worker standing there with a look of shock on their face as they notice you and Shawn.

The two of you dart apart and quickly try to recover, but the worker’s already seen quite the show. Shawn clears his throat and you make sure you have everything before following him out of the elevator. As you pass by the worker you both give them your gratitude while trying to keep some dignity, but quickly rush off as soon as you can to avoid any more time in front of the worker and in that elevator you’ve been trapped in.

Shawn leads you down the hallway and you try your best to not get sidetracked by the art and details on the walls. It blows your mind every time you walk through these halls how intricate everything is. They sure didn’t spare any expense when building this place.

There's a a tug on your arm which causes you to stop and you realize Shawn's standing in front of a hotel door. Number twenty-two seventeen, just like he said earlier.

Shawn turns around and you suddenly feel like you have no idea what to do next. Did what happen in the elevator mean anything to him? Does he want you to forget it happened and leave? Sign an NDA and swear you'll never tell anyone what he's said?

"You wanna finally go test out that jacuzzi tub?" There's a coy smile on his lips and suddenly all your questions are answered.

You bite down on your lip to try and hold back your smile as you watch Shawn unlock the door and begin to lead you inside. Before you can fully step in, you pull back on his hand and he turns around to look at you as you realize you never got to say a certain something to him earlier in the elevator.

"Happy New Year, Shawn."