Taylor's POV:
He does love me. He loves me. And in this moment, all I want to do was kiss him, because everything else seems like a blur besides him.
And I never envisioned me finding out he loves me this way. He offered to help me find out who is leaving these stupid notes.... And here I was thinking all of those years that it would be like a fairytale. But it's not, and I think that in a way it's better.
"Taylor?" He asks me. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I am."
"Anyway...." His voice trails off. "I've gotta get going."
"Ed?" I say.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
He gets up off of the couch and walks to the door. He waves at me and then opens it, still oblivious that I know.... That he loves me...
***
My alarm goes off with a riiiiing! and I jolt out of bed. The Superstarr Music Awards are today!
Along with performing my hit new single "Shake It Off", I will be performing "I'll Be Fine" for the first time ever!
I'm bracing myself for the massive amount of hate I'll get from the Directioners. Jeez, some of that fandom is downright rude.
I thrust my closet door open, picking out a cute dress. It's shimmery and
silver, something that I would've worn in my younger days or even in the Red era.
I figured, why not have a little variety for these awards? To me, they're almost as important as the Grammys. Almost.
Then I walk into my music room, and pick up my guitar. The strings seem almost made for my fingers, and the feel of them is so familiar it's like coming home.
Strumming quickly, I perform "I'll Be Fine" yet another time. I have to make it perfect.
Then I pick up my electric guitar and start playing the notes and chords for "Shake It Off". It's something more different than I've ever done before. Pop. New. Unfamiliar. And I've lost fans because of it.
***
I step into the limo accompanied by Amos and Ed and a bunch of my studio friends. Careful not to bang my head, I daintily sit down. A million thoughts run through my head at this moment: will I be good enough? Will people like me? Will people like my performance? And then the endless stream of what-ifs. What if I mess up? What if I do terribly? What if- and then my thoughts are cut off. We're
already here.
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Hai! The next chapter will be much better and much more eventful, so I hope you like it.
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