january 1, 2017; new york city

      light streamed in through the windows of taylor's penthouse. groggily, she reached up to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun. taylor was curled up against joe, her head against his chest. she lifted her head to look at him. 

     "you're awake," said joe, softly. 

    "good morning," taylor murmured.

    "it's actually 2 p.m.," joe replied. "i woke up a few minutes ago."

    "oh," said taylor. "happy new year." with much difficulty, she got up off the couch where they had fallen asleep. 

     "happy new year," joe replied.

     taylor went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. water always helped hangovers, right? taylor felt hungover, and she was so, so tired. she wanted coffee, but she didn't have the energy to make it.

     the floor was a mess. candle wax and polaroids littered the hardwood floor; joe and her from the night before. taylor bent down to gather the photos. she looked rough in some of them. 

    taylor set the glass and polaroids on the counter. "i need an advil," she said. joe began to look through her cupboards, but she shook her head. "i haven't stayed here in so long. i don't have any meds." taylor yawned. "do you want to get a taxi?" 

    joe nodded, massaging his temples. he, too, was fighting hangover symptoms. "yeah, sure. i could really use an advil."

     they changed out of their pajamas, and taylor put on a wig. hand in hand, they went downstairs and hailed a taxi.

    "hi," said taylor, climbing into the backseat. it smelled of leather. "could you take us to the nearest drugstore?"

    "no problem," the taxi driver said. 

    taylor gazed out of the window. the number of cars on the road was considerably less than normal; everyone was at home, fighting a hangover or sleeping in. the quiet was foreign to her, and she hadn't realized how much she missed it. 

    beside her, joe took her hand and squeezed it three times. she turned her head to look at him. her gaze softened, her eyes saying what she could not verbalize. i love you so much. in response, joe's mouth quirked up in a smile; the smile taylor had grown to love.

    the taxi stopped on the side of the road. taylor paid him, and they stepped out onto the sidewalk. taylor's hand slipped into joe's, and they went into the drugstore. thankfully, the cashier paid them no attention. 

    "what are you going to buy?" joe asked, in a low voice.

    "advil," said taylor, "and some food. have you ever been hungover? food helps very much."

    taylor bought advil, eggs, tea, bread, soup, milk, and crackers. she made joe pay since she could be recognized by the cashier. after, they went back to taylor's residence via taxi.

    now that taylor was feeling better, she realized just how dirty her apartment was. it had been a mistake to bring glitter, because that glitter was now on the floor.

     taylor sighed, then said, "well, let's get started."

     she swept the glitter and candle wax into a dustpan, then disposed of the contents. joe picked up all of the polaroids. out of the corner of her eye, she watched him pocket a few of the photos.

     as they picked up the bottles strewn across the hardwood, taylor said, "you know, thanks for helping me clean up." she swallowed. "i've always dreamed of a relationship like this."

   "like what?" said joe, trying not to laugh. "cleaning your apartment with you?"

   taylor laughed to herself. "no. like, you know, staying with me through the good and bad. it's kind of like a metaphor. you stuck with me through both my good and hard times, just like how you were there during the party, but you're also here during the aftermath. i'm cleaning up bottles with you on new year's day. do you get what i mean?"

     there was a pause, and then joe replied. "yeah, i do."

     the silence settled upon them then. typically, silence made her feel uneasy. but this silence was quiet, and calm, and peaceful. there was no rush to fill the space. there was just the occasional clinking of empty bottles, and taylor and joe.

      life had finally quieted down, and taylor was entering into a grace period. taylor had not enjoyed 2016, but she also felt...grateful, in a way. without her past, she could never have arrived so wondrously and brutally, by design or some violent, exquisite happenstance...here. 

       taylor's fair-weather friends were gone, but in their place stood the people who would stick by her through thick and thin, through happiness and hardship. 

       taylor was happily in love. after years of broken relationships, she had found joe alwyn. standing broad-shouldered next to her was a love that was really something, not just the idea of something.

         now, taylor understood the importance of emotion. for months, her heart had been locked up, cold, unwelcoming. now, she said a prayer of gratitude for each chink in the armor she never knew she needed.   

       the old taylor was dead. the innocent, heartbroken, wary girl was gone, and from her ashes rose the new and improved taylor swift, who had stopped caring about other peoples' opinions; who had blocked out the voices of those who didn't matter.   

       the media could write whatever they wanted about her, and she wouldn't care. taylor had finally realized that her work and her loved ones were what really mattered, and what she had now was worth far more than her broken reputation. this was taylor's new life, and she loved it.

    — and in the death of her reputation, she felt truly alive.

~

wow. 

it's the end.

after a whole year (and a 3-month hiatus), i've finished this book. it's been a long journey, and i've learned so much about writing, taylor swift, and the wattpad algorithm (hmph) along the way. a 'final words' chapter will be posted soon. 

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