Chapter 24

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This is REALLY long, don't get used to long updates. I just wanted to have one huge update with all the filler stuff that I needed to write. This might seem like a bunch of random events, but everything is going to be tied together in the next couple of updates. I'm hopefully going to be updating again tomorrow. The next update won't be as long as the last couple have been, but it is going to be really important. I didn't proofread this, it is too long, let me know if there are any mistakes!! :)

June 14, 2014 

When Taylor wakes up and sees hints of sunlight coming in through her curtains, she is sure it must be about as early as 7 AM with the way exhaustion is still plaguing her. She is thirsty, however, and although she would rather roll over and go back to sleep her dry throat is screaming in protest. She sits up, eyes dry and tired, feeling much like a zombie, and checks her phone before going into her kitchen. She is shocked to see that it is one in the afternoon.

She stares at her screen, thoroughly confused, her body telling her that she needs hours of more sleep. Jet lag has never hit her this bad in years. Between staying up on the plane ride the entire time happily thinking about Karlie, and laying awake last night sadly thinking about Karlie, she had worsened whatever minimal jet lag an experienced traveler like herself would have had to deal with. She has no choice but to begin her day now, thinking it will only worsen the jet lag if she doesn't try fixing her sleeping schedule as much as she can. Meredith often helps with the jet lag, as she would have been pawed awake hours ago for her breakfast, but Austin was flying in to New York City with her today. 

Taylor stretches and yawns before getting out of bed and going towards her kitchen. She hates the amount of pictures of her and Karlie that she passes on her way there. She keeps her eyes straight ahead, just focusing on deciding what flavor of coffee roast she was going to put into her coffee maker. 

She goes through her morning routine numbly, but thankful at least to have a routine to go through. It has been awhile since she was in her New York City apartment last, and simply going through the motions of her daily life offered some reprieve from her thoughts of the model. 

Once the coffee maker hums to life and begins to percolate and a bagel has been placed in the toaster oven, Taylor sits down at her kitchen counter and opens her laptop with a sigh. She feels thoroughly alone this morning, well afternoon, especially without Meredith. At least sleeping in so late gives her less time to wait upon Austin and Meredith's arrival. She browses through some of her favorite sites as she waits upon her coffee and bagel. Finally, she opens up her email account. She smiles a bit seeing Scott Borchetta had already replied to her late night email.

Now that the Red Tour was complete, the yet-to-be-named fifth album was about to take precedence over her life. She thought she had completed recording it months ago, and Scott had planned on her working on different packaging options over the next couple of weeks. Last night, she had emailed Scott explaining that recently she has written songs that she just can't get off of her mind, songs that she thinks need to be on the album. She said she would cram in as much recording time as soon as possible to make sure that these new additions wouldn't hold up their usual October release plans. When she opens the email she is shocked to see Scott explaining reasons why that it just isn't a possibility to record these songs. They just aren't necessary. Taylor does her best to reign in her anger, but when he signs off with something quite like a P.S. saying he has finally heard the final cut of what she has done so far with the album, would it be possible for her to write a couple of country radio friendly songs as well. 

Maybe if Taylor hadn't felt so jet lagged and unlucky in love, she would have spent the time crafting a business appropriate reply backing up her case, but she is the artist. Knowing she will probably regret it, as it is not her usual behavior at all, but she essentially replies to the head of her label that she fully intends on doing what she wants regardless of him. She shuts the laptop with a slam and groans as she rests her head on her elbows. If he wasn't going to help her she had enough musical friends who could. She can afford her own studio time. As if the beginning of her day could get any more frustrating, the smell of a burning bagel overtakes her kitchen. 

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