𝒾𝒻 𝒾 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒻𝓁𝓎 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 (𝓁.𝓈.)

twenty-two

Taylor adjusts the bag on her shoulder and tries not to think about the email that's burning a hole in the pocket of her jean shorts. She's at the Heathrow airport, having just taken a last-minute flight from New York to London.

All because she cares.

She has this problem of caring a little too much. It gets her in trouble often. But it makes amazing records and garners lots of fans, which makes her happy. She always knows there are people in her corner, even if her love life is much less than ideal.

And now, just barely a month since her latest breakup, she's on her way to date someone else. That is, if they're willing to hear her out. She'd understand if they weren't, but they kind of have to, for their own sake. And someone else's.

"This way, Miss Swift," a member of her security team-Emma-says. She's 6'1'' and easily Taylor's favorite of her usual bodyguards, mostly because of her confidence and radiating girl power.

"Thanks," Taylor replies when Emma gestures her down a private corridor so she won't be mobbed by fans. She loves signing autographs and giving pictures, but she honestly doesn't have time for it right now.

When she's in the black, tinted-windowed car, she takes in a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh. She's at a bit of a loss at the moment. All she has is gossip, intuition, and an email she doesn't want to think about.

She doesn't even have Harry's number, and it's not like he's called her since they met at the Brits. Why would he?

"Are you alright?" Emma asks, somehow maintaining an ever-present air of professionalism while asking the three words Taylor always seems to hear from everyone who's ever cared about her. The answer is usually a confusing mix of yes, no, and maybe someday, and this time is no different.

Emma seems to know this-after all, she's been working on Taylor's security team for five years now-and doesn't press for a verbal answer.

"What do you think it would be like to date Harry Styles?" Taylor suddenly blurts, and Emma quirks an eyebrow, the only betrayal of her inner thoughts. Her face is always stony, so these little expressions are rare.

"I wouldn't know," Emma says, a laugh in her voice even as her mouth barely moves. "I would assume it would be complicated. Messy. Though probably very, very worth it."

"Yeah," Taylor agrees, contemplating as she stares out the dark window. "Complicated sounds about right."

***

"Please tell me you're not joking," Taylor says to one of her best friends, Ed Sheeran. He's seated across from her in a tiny cafe, nodding.

"I'm not joking. They're best friends."

"Okay," Taylor responds, thinking. "So, if this Niall dude will give me Harry's number, we can have a conversation?"

"Yes," Ed agrees. "I mean, you're Taylor Swift. Anyone would be honored to hear from you. I'm not sure why you didn't just go to Harry's manager if you wanted to get in contact with him."

Taylor ignores Ed's compliments-it's just the way he talks to people, and she's focused right now.

"I'm trying to keep this quiet. And from what I've heard, Harry's relationship with his management is...complicated."

Ed snorts. "Whose relationship with their management isn't complicated?"

Taylor nods slightly. "Fair. But this is different."

"You mean because of his sexuality," Ed says. Not asks. Tells.

Taylor nods again. She knows Ed is always supportive of everyone, and he's not saying it to be rude or to criticize. He knows how this industry works just as well as she does. Just as well as any of them do. He has no love for homophobic assholes either.

"I would also really love it if you didn't tell anyone we had this conversation. Or that you saw me. Or even that I'm in London, if possible."

Ed slides his phone across the table, raising his hands up in a shrug. "Who would I even tell? I've got your back, Taylor."

"Thanks," Taylor says, smiling as she looks down at Ed's phone screen. It's open to a conversation with a Niall Horan, and he's sent a number. Taylor quickly pulls out her own phone and types it in, praying this isn't some sort of practical joke. It can't be. This is important.

***

The phone rings a few times. Taylor's pacing her hotel room, wondering whether this is a huge, ugly mistake and she should just go home to New York.

"Hello?" a voice finally says. One Taylor recognizes.

"Hi," she says, a little breathless from walking back and forth. She forces herself to sit down on a chair, but her foot taps restlessly, her body craving movement to deal with her nerves. "It's Taylor."

"Like the wolf from Twilight?" he asks, and it's clear he's joking.

Taylor rolls her eyes. "Haha, very funny," she says. "Listen, we need to talk."

She hears Harry swallow on the other end. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

A/N: Oooooh! How do you think Taylor fits into all of this?? Let me know!

Hope you're enjoying the story!! I suddenly have SO many ideas and I need to get it all out, so I'll be updating quite a lot in the next little while (you're welcome).

Ideas/comments/questions??

Love you all, as always. TPWK <3.

xo, K