Chapter Text
You watch Taylor rise up on stage, her expression distraught, as if trying to hide her pain.
Was it working?
Not for you. But the world didn't know her as intimately as you did.
Well.
Not anymore.
You watched her rise up, dance around the stage, but there was a hint of sadness to her expression.
A hint that she did not want anyone to catch.
You and Taylor had broken up ten years ago now.
You couldn't tell her why, you had to leave in the middle of the night.
Go unnoticed, it'll be easier this way, they said.
It wasn't easier; it would never be easier.
You lean by the railing, and watch as the tortured poets set slowly starts.
She hadn't noticed you in the crowd, not yet. It would've been easier this way.
You were so in love with her, even now ten years later.
You regret it almost every day, but you built yourself a life now. Was it better?
Without her? No.
You had a person to take care of, a job to do, a much better pay than you did before, and to others it seemed like you had everything you could ever need.
But deep down, your heart just wanted her.
You still remember that night to this day, the night you told her you were pregnant.
You couldn't have stayed, it would ruin her career, her reputation, everything she had worked for.
You remember at the time 1989 had just come out, and her career was finally taking off.
You couldn't ruin that for her. She deserved better.
But she wouldn't let you go either. No one approved of you once they found out, and you wouldn't lie, but you had seen it coming.
Her publicist, Tree, was against it completely and you knew she had her reasons, her parents were almost mad at her.
Except Andrea.
Andrea always cared for you. Pregnant or not.
Even after all these years, when you thought she would have forgotten a girl Taylor dated ten years ago, every birthday you find a pile of roses at your door.
You don't know if Taylor knows, you hope she doesn't.
Being the very lucky parent that you are, your daughter, now ten, had grown up to be quite the swiftie.
You don't know who got her into Taylor's music, but she was always blasting it in the car, telling you the latest details about what Taylor was up to.
She didn't realise that it was her mom on stage, performing to thousands. That it was her mom’s albums that she had spent countless nights listening to.
You had never told her who her mother was, only told her that she loved her and was away healing somewhere.
You couldn't bring yourself to.
Your thoughts drift to that night as “The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived,” starts playing.
A song supposedly about one of her ex-boyfriends.
You remember what happened the night you left.
The argument you both had, the way you gently held her till she fell asleep, telling her you'll resolve this in the morning.
But you didn't.
Because you left in the middle of the night, packed up your suitcase, said bye to the cats, who were unaware of what's happening and went out the door.
You still feel the regret. The regret of splashing water all over the sand castle that she had built for you both.
You got a transfer, told everyone to not tell Taylor if she asked. They didn't care, not really, so none of them spilled.
You were out of her life. You couldn’t bring yourself to face her or her music for a while after that. Not until the day you had delivered.
The countless nights spent up, cradling your baby. Sometimes you would put on Taylor’s music. You loved listening to ‘New Years Day,’ the piano seemed to calm the both of you down.
She was still such a big part of your life, even after having left years ago.
You sighed to yourself.
Now here you were, at one of her shows, your daughter by your side, screaming the lyrics to her songs.
It was her birthday, and you knew you couldn't say no to her. You had to take her once.
No matter what happened.
You've always wanted to give your daughter the best you could, and so, you tried to get floor seats.
Who knew you would've ended up so close to Taylor.
She doesn't spot you in the crowd, and you tell yourself that it's okay, that it's better for the both of you.
Because you don't know what you would do if she did see you. You don't know how you would look into those blue eyes that you still love so dearly and not run away.
You watch as she sits down at her piano, giving the crowd a smile as she waves to them.
The crowd all around you screams, whooping.
“Oh, here we go again,” she starts and your daughter jumps up with the rest of the crowd.
“The voices in his head, called the rain to end our days of wild.”
“ Taylor, you can't keep me around, you know that!” You shouted, begging her to understand.
She would ruin her career. She couldn't have you.
“No! No, we'll figure something out, I'm not letting you go.” She begs, tears slowly seeping out of her eyes.
You shake your head, slowly cupping her face.
“Baby, we can't, please understand.” You begged, but she refused.
You understood why. She was your best friend, and you were hers.
But you both weren't public. None of her fans knew you both were anything more than best friends.
But you were. And now you were pregnant with her child.
It hurt the both of you, and you wanted to stay, you knew you did. You could never bring yourself to leave her.
But you had to be mature, for the sake of her reputation.
She needed someone who she could love without the fear of being caught, the fear of her fans not approving.
And that wasn’t you. It couldn’t be you.
You hoped she would understand.
“You're better off without me,” you whisper, your lips pressing against her forehead.
“But I love you. Don't you?”
You remain silent.
That was all the answer she needed.
“Cause it fit too right, puzzle pieces in the dead of night,” she sings along, the crowd cheering her.
You slowly slip out of Taylor’s arms, trying to stay quiet. She grumbles in her sleep and you shush her gently, asking her to go back to sleep.
You both fit so perfectly together, it pained you to let go.
“You’re my puzzle piece, you know that?” You whisper, hoping she had heard.
She doesn’t respond, far too tired after the long day she has had. You take one good look at her, in the dark of the night.
Her blue eyes still sparkle to you, and it’s almost poetic as you get up from the bed.
Clouds thunder outside, Meredith jumps up on the bed, and nuzzles Taylor. You smile.
One last time.
You kiss her forehead.
You don’t look back, you knew you wouldn’t be able to leave if you did. She looked so peaceful to you, so okay.
You couldn’t ruin that.
So you chose to ruin your own self peace instead. You left her with no note, just a simple text that you were going to get something from the store.
You sigh, tears in your eyes as you pick up the suitcase.
You’re smashing up your forever.
But it’s gonna be alright, you did your time.
She looked so happy.
So content with the empire that she had built herself, and you were so proud of her.
“We could've played for keeps this time.”
She sings, and you're drawn into her.
“Taylor! Oh, my god.” You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around her, jumping into her arms.
She giggles at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“You like it, I'm guessing then?” She whispers and you look at her in disbelief.
“Like it? I love it!” You looked back, the huge mansion of a house resting in the view.
You smiled. You both were moving to New York.
You pressed a kiss to her lips and she smiled, keeping you in her embrace.
“You're amazing,” you whisper, looking up at her. You cup her face, stroking her cheek gently.
She rests her head against yours.
“I know,” you both giggle.
“Such a narcissist.” You complain, pressing a kiss to her nose.
“I'm gonna keep you here forever, just so you know,” she whispers, pressing kisses all over your face.
You squeal at her.
“So cheesy.”
“And I'll tell you that he runs because he loves me,” She sings and your eyes almost widen at how loud your daughter is shouting now.
You giggle at her but heart aches at the lyrics.
You knew the song was about you.
She could change the pronouns, pretend it's about some stupid boy.
But you knew.
“‘Cause you should've seen him when he first saw me.”
Taylor's eyes catch your gaze at the club, her breath catching.
You were sitting by yourself at the bar, looking like you were sulking.
She nudged Selena’s shoulder, looking over.
“She's really pretty,” Taylor whispers, her hand clenching around her drink. She wondered what you were doing alone.
“Go talk to her.” Selena mumbles, a little tipsy.
“What?”
“Go, Tay. She looks like she could use some company.”
“Why don't you go, then?” Taylor whispers back.
“You saw her first, besides, you're the social one.”
Taylor chuckles, rolls her eyes at her best friend.
She walks over to you, sitting down at a bar stool beside yours. Your eyes lift, meeting hers.
She's so gorgeous.
It actually hurts.
“You know, usually people come here to have fun.”
Your eyes widen as you realize who you're looking at.
You cringe, taking off the ear buds.
She looks down at what you're listening to.
The Way I Loved You.
She smirks and you want to bury yourself in embarrassment.
“Great music taste, by the way,” She comments, and you roll your eyes at her playfully.
You looked so embarrassed, it was so cute to her.
Your face had the most adorable expression ever to her, and she knew you both would get along swimmingly.
Your daughter screams the lyrics out, and God, if only she knew.
You're not sure she would ever forgive you if she found out who this song was actually about.
Taylor seems to hear the little girl screaming, she looks over, giving her a small smile as she sings.
Your daughter, Grace, jumps up and down and Taylor almost laughs at her tactics.
“‘Cause I knew too much, there was danger in the heat of my touch. Saw forever so he smashed it up.”
You feel sick to your stomach.
Memories flash by in your head, memories of that night and the things that had happened.
You had smashed up their forever.
She deserved better. You were so selfish to her.
You could feel that she still carried some of that sadness in her performances.
You wanted to curl up in a blanket and never think about this again.
You never paid such attention to the lyrics, and only now do you realize how obvious it is how it's about you.
Your heart aches, and you're almost sure you're going to be sick if she keeps going.
You did miss her.
“Taylor, oh, my god.” You giggle at her.
She looks up at you, confused at your reaction.
“What?”
You snicker at the confusion on her face.
“You know, no normal person holds a pen like that,” You joke.
She did hold it weirdly, the pen standing in between her index and middle finger.
No wonder her handwriting was so bad.
She rolls her eyes at you playfully, “Oh yeah? Then how do you hold it, princess?”
You move closer to her, sitting down beside her on the couch.
You take the CD that she was signing from her hands, taking the marker.
“You see, this is how people normally hold it.” You say, holding the pen so that it rests between your thumb and index finger with support from your middle finger.
She huffs at you, and takes back the marker and CD.
You take out a piece of paper, asking her to practice on it.
She rolls her eyes at you, takes the pen and holds it your way.
She scribbles down her name on it and you smile.
“Oh, my god, look! I can read what you just wrote now.” You giggle.
“Ha, ha. You're so funny, princess.”
“Duh, that's why you like me,” You whisper.
“Mmkay, keep trying to fix me.” She kisses you gently, putting the paper down.
“Once I fix me, he's gonna miss me.”
You felt your heart get heavier with every lyric that left her mouth.
It was so obvious to someone who knew what happened between you two.
God, your daughter would really hate you if she knew.
“Just say when, I'd play again.”
Her eyes look through the crowd, trying to put on a smile, but the song still hurts.
Because she would. She would do it all over again if it meant having you in her arms.
“What if I make a song where I just scream nonsense?” Taylor asks, so bored out of her mind.
“What?” You look at her, eyebrows scrunched.
“I don’t know– maybe I would just.. You know, scream something like RATATATA,” She says, looking you in the eyes– dead serious.
You burst out into giggles, and she pouts at you.
“What? It’s not that bad,” she whines, now beginning to giggle along with you. You roll your eyes at her, huffing.
You run your hand through her hair, “God, you’re so goofy. I love that you’re my best friend.”
She smiles at you, cradling your head on her lap. You look into her blue eyes, the brightest ones you’ve ever seen.
“I have a confession,” She whispers.
“Aww, I knew you were in love with me,” You joke, giggling.
She looks down, not smiling at that.
Your eyebrows scrunch, confused. “What? What is it?”
“What if I told you… I don’t want you like a best friend?”
Your mouth parts but no words come out. Truth is, you’ve been feeling the same for a while. But you couldn’t admit it, not with how society is.
You sit up, and she doesn’t let go of you, looking almost scared now.
You smile at her, and it gives her some reassurance.
You hand cups her cheek, gently stroking it. She smiles, nodding gently.
“I don’t want you like a best friend either.”
Your lips gently press against hers, and you’re almost sure you’re both smiling too much to be kissing.
But you do it anyway.
Because you’re both crazy.
“He was my best friend.”
You and Taylor both almost cringed at the line. You both were so much more than that.
But the world didn't know.
It couldn't know.
Not after the sacrifice you had made. A sacrifice she didn't ask you for, a sacrifice that only made you both suffer more.
“I felt more when we played pretend than with all the Kens, ‘cause,”
A tiny gasp left your mouth as for the first time you looked at her directly instead of the big screen.
Taylor.
God, you missed her.
A tiny tear slips past your face, and you quickly wipe it off, hoping your daughter didn't notice.
“Cause he took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts.”
Taylor almost lets out a sob. Her voice is broken, the raw vulnerability coming out.
No one else holds her like you, and even though it has been ten years, even though she’s dated so many after you, no one captures her like you do.
Who else decodes her like you? No one.
She still kept your typewriter, the one you insisted on using. You would say it was much easier than typing things out on a laptop. It was more comfortable for you.
You liked writing that way, google docs would annoy you too much sometimes, and this way you would say your typing speed increased.
She could spend hours listening to the crackling of those keys while you typed your ideas away.
She still remembers sitting on a couch next to you, watching you work the genius that you were. She loved you. So damn much.
All throughout her albums, there’s songs about you. Even though she would never admit it to herself, she misses you a lot, more than she should.
Because no one else holds her, decodes her– like you.
You would always be her favourite muse.
The crowd notices the tears, but they can't do anything. They’re too far away, and even though they show sympathy, they don’t know the real story.
They probably assume she’s emotional over the person she broke up with recently. But she isn’t– because she never could get herself to get over you.
She missed you.
A lot.
She lets out a sniffle.
She wasn't broken. That's what the world thought.
But everyday, she would scroll through her phone, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.
She was so mad at you, but her stupid heart ached to have you again.
Beside her, in her bed, hers again.
She didn't know where you went. Her team refused to tell her.
They tell her that she’s better off this way. Without you and all your problems.
Taylor still remembers finding out that you were carrying her child almost ten years ago.
She wanted to meet her child. She wanted to see if she was like you, as pretty as you.
If she had the same eyes.
Most of all, she wanted to know how you were.
She wanted to kiss you, wanted to hold you, tell the public she's in love with a girl that left her ten years ago.
It's pathetic, but she's Taylor Swift.
She's a tortured poet.
And she misses her muse.
“Told me I'm better off, but I'm not.”
Tears slip out and the crowd notices.
She remembers when you had held her in your arms, pressed kisses against her forehead and told her you both would be okay.
That you both would be okay if you left.
She was never going to like that idea, you knew that. Which is why you left in the middle of the night.
Her eyes still get teary when she thinks of it.
Her girl.
Remain calm. Remain neutral.
Tree definitely wouldn't like this.
But she missed you.
She wasn't better off without you. She never could be.
The piano ends finally, and she looks out into the crowd, a broken smile on her face.
She was a performer, she had to perform.
She looks back at the little girl, the one who was giving her the most charming smile ever.
She gives her a wave, smiling at how cute she was.
Who was her parent?
She looked up.
Her body tensed.
There you were, looking back at her like nothing had changed. You stood there like a girl with no problems.
You clapped for her, like the rest of the thousands of people watching her. But they didn’t matter. Not as much as you did to her.
She had to stop herself from saying something out loud, from giving away an inappropriate reaction. She knew the crowd was watching, her team was watching.
Be professional.
But seeing you had broken her facade completely. It had taken her out of the trance she was in while performing.
You were actually there. Standing in front of her, holding your– their daughter.
Fuck.
Grace looks at you, squealing.
“Taylor's looking at you!”
You chuckle, giving her a pat on the back, as if to calm her down.
You look back up at Taylor and nod.
She looks broken once more.
That's her daughter.
Her mouth parts in a silent gasp.