#anyway this time i was in the walmart next door. oblivious

[electoons]

another day another taco bell drive thru murder-suicide

[gohyuck]

pairing: best friend!mark x reader; some neighbor!jaemin x reader

genre: university!au, angst, slight smut

word count: 4.7k 

warnings: unrequited love ft. oblivious mark, sex that ends in crying, general heartbreak because what else would it be

playlist recs: heather - conan gray, cayendo - frank ocean, i found - amber run, fools - troye sivan, from here - kafka tamura, drive safe - rich brian

I still remember Third of December Me in your sweater You said it looked better On me, than it did you Only if you knew How much I liked you

“I fucking hate frats,” You grumble, dabbing furiously at the front of your shirt with a crumpled napkin. There’s red - remnants of what you think must be jungle juice - scattered across the yellow cloth of your top, and you just know it’ll remain stained for eternity. “This cost, like, ten bucks at Walmart! I don’t have that kind of money to throw away, you know.” 

“That’s just an hour’s worth of wages from the bookstore.” Mark, your best friend, points out, handing you another napkin when you exhaust the one in your hand. There’s mirth in his eyes and the threat of a laugh underlying his tone, but the warning glare you throw at him has him putting his hands up in surrender instead of making fun of you. 

“God,” It’s only when someone pushes past you, opening the door behind you to get inside the cursed party house you’d been so quick to rush out of, that you realize just how cold it is outside. The warmth emanating from the inside of the house you feel against your back is short-lived as the door slams shut, but the damage is done: you’re already hyper-aware of what you don’t have. “God, it’s freezing, what the hell?”

“This is literally an end-of-semester party,” Mark, ever perspicacious, points out, adding insult to your injury without a second thought. “It’s early December. Be glad it isn’t snowing.”

“I’m in a t-shirt,” You only whine in response, ignoring everything your friend has said. The night hasn’t gone your way, and if Mark wasn’t here with you you wouldn’t have come at all. Unluckily for you, Mark Lee is popular amongst fraternity circles on account of being Jaehyun Jung’s hometown neighbor and friend, so you find yourself attending parties intermittently. If you could say no to Mark, maybe you wouldn’t smell vaguely of vodka and artificially flavored fruit punch right now.

“I’m in a t-shirt,” You repeat, ignoring any and all thoughts of your best friend you’re having, as always. “And it’s wet which is making me even colder. I hate it here.” 

Mark only rolls his eyes, though you’re surprised to see him shrug off his windbreaker before pulling his black sweater over his head to reveal a thin white shirt. He hands it to you wordlessly before pulling his jacket back on and zipping it up, and when you only stare at the piece of clothing he’s given you, he has the audacity to laugh. 

“I’m tired of your complaining,” He explains when your gaze meets his, though he jovially knocks his shoulder against yours when your eyes narrow momentarily. “And besides, you always look better in it than I do. Before you ask, I’m not cold anyways, so it’s all good.”

You don’t miss the comment about you looking better in it than he does. For a moment, just a moment before you pull the proverbial wool over your eyes and black polyester over your head, you imagine that he actually means it. He does let you borrow it an awful lot, after all: it’s in your dresser half as often as it’s in his. 

“I wasn’t going to ask,” You huff out a lie, putting an arm through before pulling the rest of the sweater on. You’re immediately met with Mark’s cologne, and you pull his sleeves over your hands into sweater paws on habit. His clothes are always just a little long on you. “You’re like a human furnace.”

“Whatever dude,” Mark rolls his eyes again, though there’s fondness evident in them. “Come on - I’ll walk you back to your place.” He loops his arm through yours in a way you’ve gotten dangerously used to, dragging you away from the Nu Kappa Theta house. 

He keeps his word, leaving you right in front of your door. When you go to take off his sweater, he stops you, telling you that there’s no rush to get it back to him. A quick hug and a short goodbye later, Mark is walking down the hallway, hands shoved into his jeans’ pockets. You watch as he gets to the stairwell, so desperately wanting him to turn back.

He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t - you aren’t Heather. You fall asleep in his sweater hours later, still drowning in his cologne. Come morning, you fold it neatly and place it in the bottom drawer of your dresser, out of sight and out of mind. 

But I watch your eyes, as she walks by What a sight for sore eyes Brighter than a blue sky She's got you mesmerized While I die

You still remember the first time you’d seen her. It was mundane, really - she’d sat next to you during your first Computing class of the semester, and you’d introduced yourself to her and found her to be a sweet girl, the kind of girl people like being around. There wasn’t anything past that - the two of you went on with your lives, sometimes making idle conversation in class. You hadn’t thought much of your meeting with her until later.

Far more importantly, frankly, you remember the first time Mark had seen her, even if he doesn’t remember it himself. You’d been lounging under a tree, Mark’s back against the bark while you had your head in his lap. He’d been rambling on and on about something Donghyuck had said during their intramural dance team’s practice when he’d stopped speaking mid-sentence, forcing you to turn your head to see where his eyes were leading him. 

Heather, in a pleated skirt and a beige sweater over a pristine white button down. She’d looked positively radiant while standing in the grass and laughing with friends, the sun shining brightly directly behind her. Mark, feeling your eyes looking up at his slack-jawed expression, had unfrozen eventually, raising a hand to scratch at the nape of his neck out of embarrassment. He’d been about to launch back into his story - this time likely punctuated by glances over at the other girl - when you’d interrupted him before he could begin.

“Her name’s Heather,” You’d told him, mentally kicking yourself even as you spoke. Who tells the love of their life the name of someone they’re obviously ogling? You hate the value you place on your friendship with Mark almost as much as you hate the fact that you’re in love with him. “She’s in one of my classes. She’s really nice, if you’re into that.” 

“Of course I am,” Mark had muttered then, ears burning red. “Why wouldn’t I be into nice people?”

“You spend all your time hanging with me and Hyuck.” You’d pointed out, reaching a hand up to poke at his chin. He’d flicked your fingers away from him, though he’d immediately grabbed your hand right after, holding it tight for a moment on impulse and as if to show you he’d never really hurt you. 

You’d wished the constant Mark-inflicted ache you’d felt - feel, still - was physical. 

“You’re nice, dude,” Mark had insisted then, finally looking down at you. You’d felt suddenly insecure then, realizing that the angle you were at wasn’t the most flattering. There was no way you could compete to Heather, not with your disheveled hair and eyes that pierced through Mark like arrows. You’d wrapped your arms around yourself in insecurity and Mark had thought nothing of it, only continuing to speak. “You’re nice enough, at least, when you aren’t kicking my ass. Hyuck is… a thought best left for another day.” 

You’d laughed then, and Mark had responded in kind. The rest of your break between classes had been spent like that: talking and laughing with your favorite person, irreplaceable by all accounts. 

If he hadn’t chanced glances at Heather throughout it, you might’ve been able to consider that he found you irreplaceable in the same way you found him. 

Mark hadn’t been subtle then.

He isn’t subtle now. 

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty You gave her your sweater It's just polyester, but you like her better Wish I were Heather

Mark asks for the sweater back the day before you leave for winter break. Your flatmate is staying back - has research to work on through Christmas - so you’re free to visit your parents back home, and although you dread all the questions you’ll be asked, you can’t help but feel the slightest bit excited. 

“I’ll drop by and pick it up before I head out, then,” Mark says, voice still warm as ever even as the phone makes him sound the slightest bit tinny. “What time is good for you?”

“I’ll be at the bus stop by 5,” You respond, phone between your shoulder and your ear and heart between your mouth and your chest as you pull his polyester sweater out of your dryer. “Come by any time before then.”

He drops past your place a little before 4, eyes sparkling when he tells you that Heather only lives about a half an hour away from him, so he’s taking her with him on his drive home. You muster the brightest smile you can when you tell him how wonderful that is, all while handing back the sweater that smells like your own detergent for now but you’re sure will soon smell like Heather’s perfume. 

A week after seeing Heather for the first time, Mark had, by chance, joined your university’s Literature Club, not knowing that the girl who’d stolen his breath was a member. He’d had the same sparkle in his eyes when he’d regaled his first conversation with her to you, talking for ages about her opinions on The Picture of Dorian Gray and Slaughterhouse-Five. They’d clicked immediately, in his words. Two fitting puzzle pieces. 

You’d bawled like a baby into your flatmate’s arms once your best friend had left your apartment that night, feeling entitled to the tears after so many hours of half real (you truly were happy for him) and half fake (you truly were sad for yourself) smiles. 

It’s been three months since then. Heather and Mark aren’t dating just yet, but they’re an inevitability. You remind yourself of that after Mark leaves, sweater in hand and a promise to text you once he gets home sliding off his tongue. 

He messages you a picture - a selfie of him and a smiling Heather - five hours later, a ‘we’re home safe!’ text accompanying it. It isn’t a surprise to you that she’s wearing the black polyester sweater in the photo, but it still stings nonetheless.

Mark had said you look better in the sweater than he does. Heather looks far better in it than you do. 

When you reach your own home, you’re not alarmed to see Jaemin, your next-door neighbor who’s home from his own school for break, sitting at your kitchen counter and eating grapes out of a plastic bowl. His parents and your parents are great friends, and you’ve always gotten along fairly well with him. His hair is dyed a light blue, gelled back slightly to show his forehead, and he smiles the same cheeky smile he’s had since his sophomore year of high school at you. Jaemin’s always been breathtakingly handsome, always been as good looking as he is just good. He’d been a decent friend to you when you’d lived here, close enough to tell secrets to but not so close that he’d reveal them to anyone. 

Jaemin had been your first kiss way back when, had been your first time barely after that, and you allow yourself to see the purely sexual tension that still exists between the two of you. You feel nothing but friendship - maybe just acquaintanceship - for him, and he for you. It’s perfect. 

When both sets of parents go out for dinner, unable to drag the two of you out with them, you pull Jaemin up the stairs to your childhood bedroom to ride him frantically as if you’ll never feel this good again. He coaxes not one but two orgasms from you, cool hands roaming your body and nails raking gently over your thighs. Jaemin fucks up into you when you can’t move any longer, when your thighs shake from overwork, and he doesn’t complain, not once. 

He pulls you down to him, bites your shoulder hard when he cums, spilling into the condom he’d managed to get on in the rush to be inside of you. When you don’t pull off of him afterwards, instead only beginning to sob quietly into his shoulder, he’s kind enough to run his hands over the span of your back to soothe you. 

“That bad, huh?” He jokes, not letting you go. His hands are warm now. You shake your head adamantly even as you know he’s kidding before muttering a ‘it’s not you, it’s Mark’ into his skin. 

“Did you just ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ me?” Jaemin questions, this time more confused than anything. You shake your head again, your tears glistening against his collarbone as you pull away enough to look him in the eyes. 

“Mark. It’s Mark,” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. You’ve never voiced it aloud before - that it’s Mark. That it might just always be Mark. Jaemin’s okay, though - Jaemin won’t tell. How could he? He doesn’t even know Mark.

Your childhood neighbor stares at you, though not unkindly, for a long moment before nodding slowly in understanding and pulling you into his chest once more for a tight embrace. He doesn’t ask any questions - you assume he just gets it. 

Jaemin manages to finger you to one more climax like that, with you curled up in his lap and your head against his chest. He murmurs sweet nothings that really mean nothing into your ear as he does, and you find that you could get used to this. You won’t, but you could. When you cum again, you only whimper and moan, incapable of forming words. 

Mark’s name is on the tip of your tongue, and even though Jaemin would understand if you say it, you don’t. You can’t tempt yourself with a reality that isn’t available for you. It would be too cruel.

By the time your parents and Jaemin’s parents get back home, you’re wearing a sweatshirt you hadn’t been wearing earlier, mainly to hide Jaemin’s bite mark. You hug your neighbor goodbye, and he whispers a ‘it’ll be okay’ into your neck before pulling away, giving you a soft version of his devilish grin and waving before leaving with his mom and dad. 

Maybe it will be okay someday, but for now, God, how you wish you were Heather. 

You only text Mark back right before you go to bed, a quick ‘damn, guess i’ll have to hire a better hitman next time. for you, not for heather, she’s lovely’ before you rest. Is she at his house, her head against his chest as they talk about books or movies or whatever they talk about? Or is she on her way home right now, wishing for more time with Mark? 

Your sleep is dreamless that night, despite the thoughts of Mark and Heather, Heather and Mark that run through your mind constantly. It’s the one stroke of luck you have. 

Watch as she stands with Her holding your hand Put your arm 'round her shoulder Now I'm getting colder

You sleep with Jaemin intermittently during your break, finding quite quickly that he’s very willing to solely be a receptacle of your pent-up urges catalyzing. It’s hard to have sex with people at school because you’re always aware that Mark could be waiting at your apartment with food when you get back, or that he could be texting you while you’re getting laid. With Jaemin, you can truly push Mark out of your mind, if only just for a moment.

It’s good that you find a momentary respite in your childhood neighbor, because once you’re back on campus, it feels like the universe is purposefully tugging your stars out of their alignments just to torture you. 

The weather still leaves much to desire, and although it isn’t as cold as it had been in December, you still carry a hoodie around with you wherever you go. They’re easy to pull over long-sleeved shirts and sweaters; after all, Heather’s always pulling Mark’s favorite forest green hoodie over the familiar black sweater that she wears. 

Before, it had just been you, Mark, and occasionally Hyuck getting together and hanging out. At restaurants, you and Mark would sit on the same side, sharing appetizers while Hyuck actively guarded his food from your roaming hands. Now, when you go out to eat, you sit beside Donghyuck, Heather right across from you with her perfect smile and kind eyes while Mark sits right beside her, leaning back with his arm thrown over the booth behind her easily. 

She’s genuine: when she asks about your hobbies, your likes, your dislikes, she truly wants to know. It’s good of her: after all, you’re one of the most important people in Mark’s life. You figure she must know that, the closer she gets to your best friend, the closer she should get to you. 

You appreciate it. You also hate it. 

When Heather gets up mid-lunch to go to the bathroom, parting from the three of you for the moment with a dazzling grin and an airy laugh that makes Mark visibly redden, the boy she’s wooing turns to you and your other friend, eyes full of hope. Donghyuck arches an eyebrow even as he knows what the other man is about to say. 

“Man, isn’t she literally the best? There’s something between us, right? I should ask her out?” Mark’s running a hand through his hair as he speaks, a nervous habit he’s had the whole time you’ve known him (freshman year Intro to Film, he’d spilled his cold coffee all over you and panic-offered you his black sweater to wear as a cover-up and, the rest, as they say, is history). 

“She’s on the higher end of the cool spectrum, yes there’s something, and it’s your life, dude, I can’t tell you who to date or not date.” Donghyuck responds before you can, and you catch him darting his eyes over at you in mild concern as he speaks. You haven’t told him about how you feel about Mark, but you’re sure he’s known for some time. He’s nothing if not deductive. 

Mark rolls his eyes, mutters something about Hyuck always being the bare minimum amount of helpful, and then looks you directly in your eyes, waiting for your verdict. In that moment you know that he’ll seriously consider whatever you say, that if you don’t like Heather, he’ll do his best to dislike her too. Friendship above all else.

The word friendship leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, even if you value it so highly. 

“Ask her out,” You finally say, the corners of your mouth quirking up together. The smile you wear doesn’t reach your eyes, but Mark’s too elated to notice. Under the table, Hyuck gently rests a warm hand against your knee for a split second, a show of ‘I’m here’ that you’re grateful for. 

Before you can continue speaking - what would you even say? - Heather is sliding back into her seat, back from the bathroom. You can’t very well talk about her while she’s there, so you close your mouth inconspicuously, watching as Mark puts his arm around her shoulders rather than against the booth this time, pulling her just a little closer to his side. 

You’re wearing two layers of clothing, but the air suddenly feels freezing. Donghyuck casually hands you a fry off his own plate, not keeping his food all to himself for the first time ever. 

You accept it, even though it’s cold by now. Bleakness added upon bleakness changes nothing.

But how could I hate her? She's such an angel But then again, kinda Wish she were dead, as she Walks by What a sight for sore eyes Brighter than a blue sky She's got you mesmerized While I die

He asks Heather out a week later with a bouquet of flowers you help him pick our just hours before his trek to her apartment. Donghyuck comes over the night of your florist trip - your flatmate had left for a trip the night earlier, leaving you a tub of ice cream and a pile of 80s movies as a placeholder for human comfort - and holds you for hours, not saying anything as you sob through The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Stand & Deliver. 

“I w- I wish she didn’t exist,” You hiccup into your friend’s shirt as he rests his chin on top of your head. “And then I feel awful because she’s just so nice. She’s always so nice. He likes her because she’s so nice.” 

“It hurts worse when they’re nice, especially when you’re also nice,” He murmurs into your hair, pulling you closer into his chest. “Because then you can’t plot ways to get revenge without ending up being the asshole.”

“The jilted ex,” You agree, though it only causes you to cry harder. “Except I’m - I’m not even an ex.” 

“Someday, you’ll be glad that you aren’t one of his exes.” Donghyuck assures you, and you know he’s right so you say nothing else, only wrapping your arms tighter around him. The healing process for your heartbreak starts then, as you stain your friend’s thin shirt with your tears and he rubs soothing circles into your back. Your heart might just sew itself back together. 

The single stitch holding the halves of your heart together rips easily when Mark brings breakfast to your doorstep the next morning, obvious hickies dotting his collarbone once he pulls off his white pullover. The sight alone makes you feel like your lungs are airless and will forever remain so, and you realize that you’ll have to start healing all over again. 

Still, you welcome your best friend into your apartment for breakfast like you do every Sunday morning, right before he goes to Church. Mark’s bought bagels today, from the café at the end of the block, and once he’s prayed like he always does before eating he spreads strawberry cream cheese all over one half of his bagel while talking about how well his ask had gone and thanking you for your floral expertise. 

“I just thought they looked pretty,” You shrug, mentally begging for him to stop relating you to any aspect of his relationship. “No need to thank me.”

“I’ll always thank you, dude,” Mark says with ease, licking cream cheese off of his thumb. “You’re my best friend.” With this, he finishes off his breakfast, stands up from his chair at your breakfast nook, and wears his pullover again. 

“Gotta pick Heather up, she said she wants to come to Church with me,” Mark says, and your heart twinges at how quickly she’s been introduced to the more intimate aspects of his life. You say nothing, only smile and nod, and Mark thinks nothing of it. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“We literally have a class together.” You scoff, doing your best to banter with Mark like you always do. He rolls his eyes at your statement, though his grin never falls from his lips. 

“I’ll see you,” Is all he says, before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. He’s halfway out your door before he turns back - turns back like you’d always wished for him to - and calls your name. 

“Yes?”

“You really did do me a favor by helping me with the flowers,” Mark says, giving you the most grateful smile you’ve ever witnessed. “She said the bouquet had all her favorites. I don’t know how you do it. You’re a lifesaver. Love you!”

With that, he’s out the door, and you can only watch as it slams shut behind him, trapping in his last two words as they curl around you like currents, pushing you deeper into the water that’s drowning you. It’s platonic, of course it is, it always has been. Still, you believe that if you never hear those two words together again, you might be all the better. 

The bouquet had all of your favorites, too. 

You need to stop wishing you were Heather.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty You gave her your sweater It's just polyester, but you like her better I wish I were Heather Wish I were Heather Wish I were Heather

It’s a little less than three months later when you’re out shopping by yourself at the local mall, in desperate need for some winter clothes before the next year’s winter starts. Everything’s on sale now, and you’re not one to pay extra money for no reason at all. You’re sitting through a rack of jackets when your phone vibrates, and you fish it out of your pocket to find that Mark has texted you four images, accompanied with a message asking ‘which one should I post O.o’. 

They’re all of Heather in that black polyester sweater - the one you used to wear often - at an ice skating rink, and you assume Mark’s just gotten home from a date. She’s grinning brightly at the camera in the first picture while finishing tying up her skates. In the second one, her back is to the camera and her head is turned to the side, her hand holding onto Mark’s as she leads them across the rink. She’s looking right at the camera in the third one as well, eyebrows raised sportingly as she sips hot chocolate from a styrofoam cup.

You tell Mark to go with the fourth one: a candid of her just stepping on to the rink, eyes wide but smile even wider. Her head is turned, though she can’t see that her side profile is being captured. She’s beautiful without effort in a way you refuse to find in the mirror, and you know the fact that Mark has even taken a picture of Heather without her posing means he wants to cherish every memory with her. It’s sweet, and you tell him so. 

You pocket your phone before reading his response, doing your best not to let his earnestness affect you. Mark is a good man, and Heather is a good woman. They’re good for each other, and you’re good for both of them as a friend. 

As you turn around to inspect another set of for-sale winter clothes, this time on a table rather than a rack, you realize that, over the past few months, you truly have done your best to try and move on. It had been slow at first, yes, but by throwing yourself into your studies, taking time for yourself, and hanging out more with Hyuck and your other friends - though not less with Mark - has done you good. The ache has weakened, the stinging has stopped, for the most part. You’ve killed almost all of your Mark-related hangups or fixations, almost all of them except… 

You rest your palm on top of a light blue sweater - cotton, not polyester - and run your thumb over it, exhaling slowly and blowing air out through your barely-parted lips as you do. It’s pretty, and your size, and you’re in need of one, and the one sweater you used to wear the most isn’t available to you anymore. 

Jaemin’s words from months ago echo in your mind: ‘it’ll be okay’. You grab the sweater and make your way to the cashier’s counter, suddenly not needing to buy anything else anymore. 

The breath of air you take upon leaving the mall, sweater in bag in hand, feels like the first one you’ve taken in a while. As you settle into your car and turn the ignition key, placing your purchase on your passenger’s seat, you’re hit with a realization that you didn’t think you’d ever have. 

It’s all okay...

And you’re starting to no longer wish you were Heather. 

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty You gave her your sweater It's just polyester, but you like her better Wish I were.. 

[breziarchive]

creepy walmart stories, true or false, are common enough but honestly? need to share some of this “what the fuck was that bullshit” because i’m thoroughly Displaced as a person right now.

after a recent promotion at work the decision was made to implement a different uniform in order to be seen and further trusted by customers. fine by me, it’ll involve some button down collared shirts of which i have a few but tbh they’re ill-fitting and i haven’t gone clothes shopping in a while (barring the boots I impulse bought...the other morning...so.) 

so the vest was handed over to me today so i’m like, okay. i know myself. I won’t be able to get up early before work to go shopping for some simple colored shirts that you’d think you’d be able to find anywhere but we’ll get to that part. the walmart in our town is. how you say--it’s not allowed to be a 24hr walmart due to too much nutso bullshit happening literally all the time in this town. at least, that is my understanding. so the only 24hr quick store I can think of, since i get off around midnight, is one that’s about 25 minutes from work, 15 from my apartment. i clock out, fill up with gas at a gas station at 11:45pm (do not recommend) and I set off. things are fine. i’m listening to phantom of the opera again and thinking about other shit. probably smut. it’s how it happens. I find the walmart fairly easily though it’s pitch black and i usually have no reason to go here, and i park away from everyone else (thank god) and head on in.

i’m no stranger to places after midnight, that shouldn’t faze me. what fazed me was after a while of wandering around the (front and center) women’s section, i found none of the types of shirts i wanted. not even close. it was all pseudo mexican embroidery or gay flannel, of which i have many, and yes i almost bought another, thank you for asking. a little perturbing, but nonetheless i start to browse, sure that i might find at least something.

now i’ve done my time in fast food, but i’ve never worked retail. i’m not sure if this is strange or not at all, but as i keep browsing--in both the women’s and the men’s section just because, just because i might find something, i notice something...off. Every store i’ve ever been to organized their shirts from S - L, XL, XXL, whatever came after large. But usually, especially for ease of browsing, you would put the smaller items first with the larger items in back.

nearly every single display rack, with every single shirt hanging from the hangers, both in th emen’s and the women’s section, were sorted from XXL/XL to S.

w...weird. but okay. could just be some fuckery going on. i’ve heard the stories, i know the worker’s strife. but still no shirts that i need. eventually, after what was probably too long in this place that was slowly sucking on something ethereal and dear to my soul, i gave up and wandered into the grocery section to grab some dinner before leaving.

except there were no boxed dinners in the boxed dinner aisle.

i don’t mean it was empty, i mean it was like the aisles were completely fucking switched. filled to the brim with macaroni, pasta, and other such things you’d expect in a boxed dinner aisle, but no boxed dinners. nothing. i frown, poke my head around, and eventually find them two aisles over. this is where i start to realize that i really don’t like this. at all. i start putting stuff in my arms, briefly wondering the folly of not picking up a basket but at this point i just want to hurriedly leave and it was too late anyways. my arms are full but manageable and i find the secluded, lonely cashier lanes.

there’s one, filled with people who have carts filled with things. it’s the only one with the light on. some other guy, with only two items, wanders around to try and find more but doesn’t. i was going to let him go first but he insists i do. the woman in front of us turns around, her mouth is, how to say politely, rotting. she says to us “this is the slowest. cashier. ever.” then starts nodding.

and nodding.

and nodding.

thank god her eye contact is locked with the man beside me and not me. he calls to the cashier, “are there any other cashiers open?”

she doesn’t respond. one of the other customers goes “yeah, the one right next to us.” we both move, and again he insists i go first. i thank him, realizing that with my short stature, cute-monster pinned hat, old high school japanese class t-shirt, and digimon wallet that i must look 18 at best to be out this late. didn’t really like that implication but i put my stuff on the conveyor belt and go to pay. the total is 19 even.

my card is new. not like Fresh new, but new enough to never have problems. the card reader wouldn’t read my card, so i ask if it’s slow or do i need to do something else. the woman cashier, one of many ESL employees that walmart hires, says something i can’t recall, then starts to fiddle with the card reader. it won’t work. nothing will read my card but she keeps valiantly trying. she turns the reader towards her.

the back of the reader is stuffed with ratty paper towels.

i offer to use another card but the offer falls on deaf ears. the man who let me go first watches this go on and i feel like it was maybe 4 solid minutes of this, though it felt like ten. he says “the magnetic strip won’t read if it’s a chip card”, and suddenly as he says this, the card reads. i pull the bags out and away and the man, suddenly impatient, steps on my foot as he comes forward. I skitter off, he bids me good night for some reason. i smile, customer service trained smile, and hurry the fuck out of there.

parking lot. thank god. no cars near mine, that’s a good sign. as i’m hiking out there i notice a sedan pull up, stop and park in the middle of the goddamn lane approaching the far entrance, and out steps a middle aged woman wearing what appears to be some sort of prom dress. my brain and heart, already shell-shocked by the goings on, went “nope” and i get in my car, slam the door shut, and lock everything. with a quick text to a friend, i pull into drive and start to go.

this same sedan almost t-bones me out of the parking lot, had i not stopped and been like oh my god oh kay. i turn to leave. sedan starts following me. fine, maybe the woman realized the pharmacy was closed or something, that was the door she was headed for.

the sedan stops in the middle of the lane again and she gets out again.

can’t really describe the level of NOPE i felt as i booked it out of there faster than a car should go in a parking lot, finding my way to the freeway thankfully easily. on the fifteen minute drive back to apartment i sat deadened, my chest hurting a little from the what the fuck was that as phantom of the opera continues to play, though i’m not sure which songs because at that point i was completely oblivious.

so now im home, i’m about to cook one of the dinners i managed to find and buy, and. i guess i uh. will shop online for now.

[shawnsassymendes]

High School Sweethearts

Warnings: Reader can sing but it’s like barely talked about, a shit ton of fluff you might suffocate, and editing

Summary: You and Shawn have been together since the start of high school after a life long friendship. When Shawn came to fame, you asked him to keep you a secret for the time being as you were not ready for the spotlight. Now that high school’s over, you reconsider and Shawn surprises you.

Word Count: 2.8k....I have a problem

A/N: Let’s imagine that the reader’s parents are always super busy and they let her do whatever she wants ok?

Masterlist

____________________

“Bye Mrs. Mendes! See you tonight!” You yelled as you and Shawn left the Mendes residence. You were going to drop Shawn off at a radio interview after picking up Aaliyah. 

“Bye Y/N, Shawn! See you at dinner!” Shawn’s mother called from somewhere inside the house.

“You’re never going to call her Karen, are you?” Scoffed Shawn as he got into the jeep.

“Nope. It feels...I don’t know, weird?” You shrugged.

“Ok, so we’re going to pick Aaliyah up from Emily’s house. And then we’re gonna go to the place the interview’s at and you guys are going to wait for me at the cafe across the street. And when I’m done, we’re going to have lunch and go to Walmart.” Shawn said as he never once looked at you.

He knew that if he looked at you, he would say yes to whatever it is you asked. And you had already told him that you wanted to stay in the car to hear the interview live.

He tried to convince you to get an app but he couldn't argue when you said his speakers were better. And now he was trying to ignore the situation.

“Shawn.” You warned.

“Y/n?” He copied your tone of voice, acting oblivious.

“We talked about this! I don’t mind staying in the car. You know I love Jay-bones! The air’s gonna be on and everything! I won’t die! The longest you can take is an hour. And if we get restless we can go to the cafe or go for a drive.” You whined.

“But they know what my car looks like! And if they see me getting in with a gorgeous girl in the passenger seat, there will be headlines. You would be everywhere within minutes.” He said, concern lacing his words.

“I know, but it is highly unlikely they’ll call me gorgeous. Besides, I’ve been thinking. Now that high school is over, maybe I can...I don’t know, come out of hiding?” You shrugged casually even though this was a big decision.

When Shawn started getting famous, you asked him to keep you out of it until you finished school. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t there with him through it all. After he was asked to open for Taylor Swift on her tour, you and Shawn started taking your classes online. You had both recently graduated together even though you were a year younger.

When you were travelling the world with Shawn, you always had a lot of free time. So you took 11th grade and 12th grade at the same time. It was stressful and a lot of work, but you knew that if you kept up with Shawn, it would be better for the long run.

You and Shawn never talked about what would happen after school was over. But you had definitely thought long and hard on it.

It was always hard to stay away from the cameras these past years. You knew it was a struggle for Shawn’s team. It was a lot of extra work to keep someone completely hidden from the public eye and keep the celebrity safe. Maybe this would make his tour easier.

“Are you serious?” Shawn asked after a moment of silence. His face was concerned but his eyes held a spark of hope. He had always wanted to show you off to the world, but he wanted to keep you safe too. He didn’t like it when he was asked if he was in a relationship and he had to say no. He wanted everyone to know he was taken by the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m done with school. I’m not busy with anything other than this tour. And I know your team hates me with everything they have to do to hide me. So, why not?” You smiled up at him.

“Are you sure? I mean, do you want this? They can be really harsh out there. If you're doing this for me, you don’t have to. I would love you anyways. You know that, right? That I love you no matter what? Even if the world thinks I’m dating anyone I work with? I mean-

“Shawn!” You interrupted his rambling. “Yes, I know you love me no matter what and I love you too. Calm down. I want this. Isn’t it everyone’s dream to be famous? I was just afraid I would get swept away by it cause I was so young back then. I thought it would get to my head and I might quit school or something. But if I knew how strong you would be the entire time, I would have gone with it from the beginning.”

“Ok then. I’m calling Andrew after the interview to set things up. And you’re gonna come with me to my next event and-”

“Yes, you will do all of that when we get back home tonight. And we can talk about it on the way back, but right now, we’re gonna be late.” You laughed as you realized how much Shawn wanted this.

“I love it when you call our place ‘home’.”  He mumbled as he kissed your forehead.

____________________

“Bye Em!” Aaliyah yelled as she got into the back seat. “Sup?” She said, popping the ‘p’.

“Nothing that can’t wait. What about you?” You asked as you motioned for her to put on her seat belt. She rolled her eyes, but listened to you nonetheless.

“Nothing much. Em and I stayed in the pool most of the time. Oh yeah, she said that she has a crush on you.” Aaliyah said nonchalantly at your boyfriend. Shawn almost crashed the car.

“What?!” He yelled out along with a couple honks from surrounding cars. You and Aaliyah barked out in laughter.

“You can’t just randomly say stuff like that Liyah. We both know that Shawn-y boy is oblivious to his good looks and talents. And the fact that he attracts girls like a magnet. He might get a heart attack.” You said as you brought your hand up to play with Shawn’s hair. You noticed how his cheeks flushed once you said that. Aaliyah was red with laughter at this point.

“What did you say to her?” Shawn asked after clearing his throat.

“I told her that she was disgusting and that he’s my brother and that we would never bring up the subject again.”

“Thank you for not ratting me out.” You smiled back at her softly. “I want everyone to know in a much bigger way. But I’m still thinking about how.” You mumbled, but you knew that she heard you.

“What?! You wanna get out there? Finally! I have been dreaming about this day for years!”

“Stop with the exaggerating. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” You chuckled.

Shawn stopped at a red light and looked over at you and smiled. “Yeah, it would be awkward explaining how I’m single one day and married the next someday in the near future.” You almost choked on your own spit.

____________________

“Ok, so you guys are staying in the car?” Shawn asked one more time before he got out of the car in front of the radio station’s headquarters in Toronto.

“Yes! Now go before it’s too late!” Yelled Aaliyah from the back, exasperated by her older brother.

“Ok ok! I’m gone!” Shawn raised his hands in surrender as he went to the doors.

“Ok tell me everything!” Aaliyah commanded from the back seat. And you did. To say she was excited was an understatement.

____________________

“So Shawn, one of our researchers found an old clip of you and a girl singing ‘Hey Jude’. Who was she?” Asked Maria, the interviewer.

“Gosh, you did your research, eh?” He laughed a little nervously.

“We pride ourselves on our research facility.” She chuckled.

“Well, um, you might be surprised, but that’s my girlfriend. We’ve been together for the last 4 years. She’s actually outside with my sister in the car waiting for me right now.” He said truthfully as he rubbed the back of his neck.

____________________

You and Aaliyah were chatting while listening to Shawn’s interview. Most of the questions were always asked in interviews, so you let it play in the back ground.

“Seriously Liyah, do you not own regular pants? All I ever see you wear are shorts.” You said as you motioned to her wearing shorts and a crop top. You never had the courage to step out of your room in something so revealing. It was good that she was confident, but she was just a kid.

“Hey, when you’re in Shawn’s room you only wear-”

“Well I never said I was a good role model, did I?”

But you both paused when you heard Shawn’s most recent answer. Your mouth dropped open and you froze. Aaliyah squealed so loud you were sure your ear drums were injured.

You heard the interviewer ask Shawn if you guys could come up and both you and Aaliyah bolted out of the car. But you made sure to lock it before sprinting up the stairs.

____________________

“I’m not sure, let me call her. They said if they got bored, they might go to a cafe or something.” Shawn said as he called you. “Hey, did you-

“We’re on the stairs.” You cut him off breathlessly. He guffawed on the other end and you could almost hear it a little ways up.

“Ok then. Be careful.” He chuckled. “They’re coming up.” He said to Maria.

____________________

Both you and Aaliyah burst through the door seconds later.

“We’re here!” Aaliyah sang out as you caught your breath. You looked around for a chair only to notice that there were no empty ones.

“We can get you guys some chairs.” She said as she waved someone over through the glass of the recording room.

“No, it’s ok. She can sit right here.” Shawn said as he grabbed you and sat you in his lap. You felt the heat rush to your face. Not only because so many people were watching or because there were cameras filming. But because Shawn was never this forward with PDA. Maybe he meant it when he said he wanted to show you off to the world.

“Where am I supposed to sit?!” Yelled Aaliyah from behind you. A second later a chair rolled into the room and she let out a pleased sigh. “This is what it must be like to be famous.”

“Pffft, says the girl with half a million followers on insta. You’re already famous Liyah.” You snorted.

____________________

‘“So, I guess we have to start with your name then.” Said Maria with a laugh.

Shawn laced his fingers through yours to calm you down. “If you don’t want to answer something, squeeze my hand and I’ll make something up.” He whispered in your ear. You nodded and gave his hand a little squeeze telling him that you were fine.

“Well, my name’s Y/N L/N. I’m 17 and I’ve been dating Shawn since I was about 13 I would say.”

“And that video that we mentioned, when was that?”

“What video? I’m sorry, I wasn’t giving the interview my full attention.”

“Our researchers found a video of Shawn singing ‘Hey Jude’ by The Beatles with who he says is you.”

“Oh my god! I don’t think I have that video anymore! Um, that must’ve been-what the beginning of 9th grade? We were practicing for the talent show auditions, but we didn’t make the cut. So I was 14 and Shawn was 15 I guess.”

“And where have you been all these years? We’ve never seen you at events before and Shawn has never mentioned you.”

“You must be glad you got this interview, eh?” You laughed at her eagerness. You knew that when you were introduced to the public, it would be a huge deal. But watching her get this excited over you was hilarious!

“I told Shawn when he started getting followers on Vine and Youtube to keep me out of it. I always knew Shawn was gonna make it big but I didn’t know it would be so soon. I told him that I would only stay with him if he kept me a secret until I finished school. I’ve seen so many people get brisked away by fame and they don’t even get their high school diploma. So I said ‘I’ll get out there when we both get it’. But Shawn never needed me to make sure he was going straight. I needed him way more. With his encouragement, I finished school a year early!”

“Who says I didn’t need you?! I would be dead if you didn’t take care of me all these years.”

Maria turned to Aaliyah. “Are they always like this?”

“This isn’t even the half of it.” Aaliyah grumbled. “They sing sappy duets all day! And they take up the entire couch!”

“We’ve only been singing sappy duets all day because we're getting ready for your graduation!” You retaliated.

“I know I know, but jeez can’t you guys do it at a studio or something? I mean, even when you’re gone, Shawn’s singing all the time! My ears need silence once in a while!” She joked and you stuck your tongue out at her. You didn’t see Shawn looking at you, savoring this moment. He loved that you and his sister got along.

“So you and Shawn are going to sing at Aaliyah’s graduation ceremony?” Maria asked, her eyes still full of excitement at that fact that she was there at the right place in the right time.

“Yeah, we were gonna tell everyone not to record it and if it did leak we were gonna make something up. Guess we don’t need to do that anymore. We’re gonna sing ‘Hold Onto The Memories' by Corey Tynan .” Shawn spoke up from behind you. 

“Classic graduation song. It’s a lovely choice.” Maria complimented you and you nodded in thanks.

____________________

The rest of the interview went pretty smoothly. Basic questions about you were asked here and there, but mostly about Shawn’s tour. You could see Shawn’s phone buzzing like crazy on the table before he turned it off. You just hoped he wouldn’t be in trouble with Andrew. 

When the interview ended and you guys were leaving the building, Andrew surprised you next to the car. 

“What the hell were you thinking kid?” Andrew mumbled as he scratched his head. 

“Hey Andrew! Didn’t know we were meeting you here!” Shawn acted oblivious to Andrew’s distress. 

“‘Hey Andrew’? Don’t ‘Hey Andrew’ me after what happened! So many people are on my back now! This is a great thing, don’t get me wrong! The amount of times we’ve had to cover up stories about Y/N is insane, but couldn’t you have told me before?” 

“Dude, relax! It was a spur of the moment kinda thing! Besides, this means more press and more press is always good, right? That’s what you always say. Come on, we’re going to get something to eat. Come with us?” 

“Only if you’re paying.” Andrew grumbled and you relaxed. At least you weren’t in that much trouble. 

Aaliyah could see that you were still tense though. She grabbed your hand and followed the boys. 

“It’s going to be fine. Don’t worry about it. Shawn’s got it under control. And now I will train you on how to give the right answer during interviews.” She said, even though you could tell she was joking. 

“Ok then, go right ahead.” You went along with it. 

“So, when they ask you how you and Shawn got together, what will you say?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“Um, I’m gonna tell them that we’ve been best friends since forever and that it happened one day.” You shrugged. 

“Wrong! You tell them that Shawn’s younger sister Aaliyah who is an absolute angel set you up because she is the best! Got it!” 

“Yes Ma’am!” You giggled.

“And when asked who’s your best friend?” 

“I’m gonna say Aaliyah.” 

“And who you’re wearing?” 

“The most prestigious designer in the world, Aaliyah Mendes, designed this dress for me. She did it because I am such a huge fan of her work!” You gushed, mocking excitement.

“Atta girl!” Aaliyah said before both of you burst into laughter. 

Shawn looked back at you and his sister and felt his heart beat faster. 

Maybe ‘the near future’ was gonna be sooner than he thought.  

____________________

thankyou for reading! please don’t forget to reblog and leave some feedback because it’s what keeps me going!

[girishprb]

Montana 3: En route to GNP!

Since mid-August of 2017, Montana was going through one of its worst wildfires. Towns 20-30 miles from the Missoula airport were evacuated due to hazardous air quality. Average temperatures were up by 10 degrees as well. As we stepped out of the airport, we could feel the warmth and a faint burning smell in the air. The street lights were casting a halo brighter but hazier than usual. The scene vividly reminded me of a horror movie where the silence was eerie, the night was foggy and the sky was pitch black! If only there was a streetlight that kept flickering! Probably I could have scared the shit out of Manasi :)

We had 3 big backpacks, one big check-in bag, two carry-ons and my laptop bag. Shruti had called the UBER and lo behold, a mid-sized SUV came to pick us up with decent boot space within 5 minutes. Manasi had to hold my backpack on her lap, but apart from that, we had a comfortable ride to Econo Lodge that Manasi booked on the same day morning! The UBER guy was chill, he gave us good pointers on things he liked to do in Montana. We learned that flathead lake was one of the biggest freshwater lakes in mainland US, that Missoula had a couple good brewery pubs and that it was a decent college town!

It was around 1 am as we checked into Econo Lodge, went to our room and crashed soon after. Shruti was the last one to sleep because she adamantly wanted to keep the table lamp on and finish her book - WILD by Cheryl Strayed. At 6.15 am, I grudgingly woke up to an annoying alarm tone. At that moment, I didn’t realize that it wasn’t my usual tone and desperately started hunting for the source of it so that I didn’t wake others. In the next few seconds, Shruti calmly woke up, went to her phone, elegantly switched off the alarm and gracefully went back to sleep. I am sure she doesn’t even remember doing this consciously!

I almost went back to sleep, but then I suddenly remembered that the breakfast had already started at 6 am. Knowing that good food would be sparse and that I’d have to resort to energy bars in the near future, I went downstairs and ate with an appetite I am really proud of! For the next hour and a half, I was oblivious to everything else as I ate toasts with generous amounts of butter n jam, boiled eggs with salt and pepper, apple juice, raisin bagel with cream cheese oozing out of it, bananas and multiple boxes of flavored yogurt!

By the time they finally woke up, around 8.45 am, I had taken a shower, had packed up and had started reading the seventh book of harry potter for the nth time! Thanks to Manasi’s excellent relationship with Hertz, they directly dropped our rental car at the lodge. We got a shining, gray Chevy Malibu with negligible scratches that had huge boot space, comfortable leg room, and great mileage. It was around 10 am when we checked out and I was ready for another round of breakfast! :P

We first went to Paul’s pancake place which had good reviews on Yelp. It was a famous, family-owned restaurant known for their sourdough pancakes. Apparently, the recipe was Paul’s great-grandmothers, that has been preserved since past 95 years! We obviously ordered the pancakes, ‘grits n gravy’ and an omelet. Shruti also ordered her daily morning dosage of caffeine through regular coffee and Manasi went for the usual lemonade. After eating good food and random gossip chats for another hour, I was motivated to learn playing drums!

Shruti wanted a new book since she was done with WILD. Luckily, right next door was a book exchange place that Manasi thought people actually met to exchange books! All three of us loved reading and we gloriously wasted another hour drifting between the sections, picking random books and just enjoying the moment. Shruti finally decided to buy the American classic ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ on my recommendation and also ‘the girl with the dragon tattoo’ as a backup as she probably didn’t trust me enough :P

Even at this time, we still didn’t have a real plan other than going to Glacier National Park and hoping to get camping permits for next 4 days! We were sure of one thing though - Booze :P All three of us misread 'liquid store’ as 'liquor store’ outside the bookstore and got really excited! The spirit of buying booze caught hold of us and we spotted an actual liquor sign inside a casino across the street. I was expecting roulette, poker tables, and a loud atmosphere but was disappointed to see that there were just a bunch of slot machines, half of them being occupied. I honestly do not understand the enjoyment in playing this lame game. It is totally random, you just press a button and get disappointed every time! Anyway, we eventually bought Bailey’s and Kaluha along with three amazing drinking flasks.

We wanted to do all our shopping for next 5 days in Missoula as that was the closest city to GNP. We first went to Walmart where we bought water, breakfast items, creative dinner combination items, camping essentials, toiletries and ton of other stuff. Next was an obligatory stop at REI, the Mecca for quality outdoor gear stuff where we bought bear spray, electrolytes, propane cylinders and other stuff. It was around 2 pm when we got out and we suddenly started getting slightly anxious because we wanted to reach Glacier National park before the visitor center closed. We still had to drive 140 miles (around 2 hours 30 minutes) and to save time, we packed Quiznos subs for late lunch. Finally, for real, we were off to our dream destination!

All three of us are crazy Harry Potter fans. Naturally, Shruti downloaded a couple of 'Swish and a flick’ podcast episodes and we listened to it as we drove through scenic farmlands, meadows with haystacks, along the banks of never-ending flathead lake and past temporary signboards that flashed “STATE LAW - CAMPFIRE IS FORBIDDEN IN THE STATE OF MONTANA” every few miles. Shruti and Manasi also had a good collection of offline songs. I am sure they specifically loaded their phones as they could not sustain another trip with non-stop Indian Ocean songs on loop :) The first episode was just introductions where the hosts spoke about their introduction to harry potter series, their Pottermore profile and then they discussed on different Patronuses and wand types. The second episode was more interesting where the discussion started with the first few chapters of the book but eventually, key facts and the whole plot was revealed. Spoiler alert - do not listen to it if you’re yet to read the books! Shruti was a brilliant navigator, we did not miss a single turn, and at 4.40 pm, we saw those 3 words we always dreamt of - a huge signboard that welcomed us to the majestic “Glacier National Park”!