Swift's Daughter [COMPLETED]

Chapter three

After walking several miles I finally reached the town. I went to the bank and got some money in cash. After that I picked out my phone, what had been on shuffle, and called a taxi.
When I hung up a saw a girl freezing when she looked at me. She squeezed her eyes and when opened them again she was astonished. Too late I noticed the thirteen written on her hand and the word fearless written in glitter and sparkles on her phone case. She hurried towards me and gave me a neevous look. "T-Taylor?", I saw on her face that she hoped it, she wanted it so hard. But come on girl, my mother was twenty two years older than me. "No.", I said dryly. Her eyes went said. "Oh..." I sighed: "I'm an imitator." She lit up: "So you're a swiftie?" Oh no this girl was getting way too attached in only one second. Luckily for me I was saved by mine taxi stopping by. "Bye.", I said quickly and hurried inside. "Where to go?", the man asked. "Los Angeles.", I smiled. He shot a look at me and saw my guitarcase. His eyebrows rose a bit: "Chasing a dream?" He said it like it was a worthless effort. "Yes.", I replied a bit more harshly than needed I realised afterwards. He shook his head an drove away.
I had fallen asleep, I mean I'd left at 4 am and hadn't slept a bit, when the taxi driver woke me up. "You know, I really don't wanna break your dream but unless you're extraordinary you won't make it." I rubbed my eyes and spoke softly: "Would it distract you too much if I played a song?" He shook his head and turned the radio down. "Of course not." I staffled a yawn and freed my guitar out of it's case. My fingers sought the chords and touched the strings softly. Then I started playing: "Last night I heard my own heart bearing sounded like footsteps on my stairs. Six months gone and I'm still reaching even though I know you're not there." I played and sang the words with every emotion I felt, I loved this song and I'd blamed my mom a lot that she never had played it on tour. After almost four minutes I was done and the taxi driver said: "Well... Maybe you got a shot." He sounded overwhelmed and I realised that that was good, it was a compliment. I smiled and put my guitar back in it's case.
I slammed the door of the taxi and the driver winked at me before drivig away. It was 9 am now and the sound of life was everywhere. It was weird to experience this, my mom had taken me a few times to a city before but that was ages ago when I looked more like my younger me. I was hungry so I went looking for a place to eat. Some people looked at me because of my suitcase, others because they knew they reconigzed me from somewhere. I just walked cheerily down the streets with my suitcase, purse and guitar case. A few blocks later I found a cosy diner and I went inside.
The waitress brought the waffels to my booth and I gave her a nod. Just the moment that I wanted to take a bite my cellphone rang. I made a sound that showed how irritated I was and put my fork down. I digged into my purse and looked for my cell. Mom.
Damned! I bit my lip and put my phone back in my purse. I put him on silent and ate my waffels. I only felt a little guilty for leaving the house without saying a word.

Okay, it was time to get things straight. So I had money, I had a place to stay (the junior suite of a hotel), and I had a dream.
After discovering LA with a guitar case in my hand I needed a break. I took a seat on the stonen edge of a fountain and tilted my head a little bit. The sun shone on my skin and I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth. After several minutes I picked my guitar back up and started playing at random. "Midnight you come and pick me up no headlights."
I closed my eyes and drifted away on the music. I was projecting a face in front of me, he had curly hair and green eyes. "You got that James Dean daydream look in your eyes. And I've got that red lip classic thing that you like. When we go crashing down we come back every time we never go out of style, we never go out of style."
I was in a phase now where I just played and sang what came up into my mind. It turned to be a medley of songs written by my mom about my father.
"Take me home owo oh owo, ow ow ow. Ow remember when you hit the brakes to soon twenty stiches in hospital room when you started crying baby I did too when the sun came up I was looking at you."
I kept singing, kept playing, kept my eyes shut. It was amazing. Drifting on the music like that.
"Oh I remember! Hey all you had to do was stay, had me in the palm of your hand then why you had to go and lock me out when I let you in." My fingers were playing the guitar like it was the normalest thing in life. "You were all I wanted but not like this. Oooooh we found wonderland you and I got lost in it."
When I played the last chords I opened my eyes. People were applauding and threw dollar bills and pennies in my guitar case. I was kind of shocked. All those people, I guess it were fifty, loved what I'd just played.
Of course, I thought, they loved my mom... But a little inner voice inside of me was saying that maybe it wasn't about the lyric and music this time. But about the voice and passion.

So another chapter for you. :)