Match Maker | T. Swift x OC

Chapter Three

"Oh, my God. I look dead," August gasped out in shock, looking in her phone camera, "Why did none of you tell me?"

Mallory frowned at her, "You just woke up."

"I've been asleep since Saturday evening!" August exclaimed, looking at the date on her phone.

"It's Tuesday," Inez hummed, sipping her decaf tea.

"Holy fuck," The teenager was in shock.

The three sisters shared a look, bursting out into painful laughter.

The Williamses spoke a little more on the subject, before they decided that it was in August's best interest to stay with Mallory until they could get everything sorted. Greg wouldn't go to Mallory to apologise to and take August back.

On June ninth, August and Mallory had arrived back in New York City, and after a long day, they began unpacking August into her room. Mallory was lucky that the apartment was three bedrooms, and that she splitting the rent with Valentine.

It had been a while since she'd spoken with Taylor, which is why the blonde was outside of her house at ten o'clock at night.

Taylor hesitantly knocked on the door to Mallory's apartment. It was Thursday, and they hadn't seen each other since Friday. Taylor missed her best friend. If that's even what they were. Taylor didn't know anymore.

The door opened and Taylor locked eyes with a judge-y-looking teenager, who sipped on a Starbucks drink, "Hello?" The teenager asked, pulling Taylor's eyes away from her black eye.

"Sorry," The singer cleared her throat awkwardly, "I'm looking for Mallory."

August pulled away from her straw and craned her neck to the inside of the building, "Lory, that chick from the magazines under your bed is here!"

Taylor blushed a deep red as her eyes widened. There was a bang, and Taylor flinched, Avoiding the stare from Mallory's lookalike. Mallory came rushing down the stairs. Her hair and clothes were dishevelled, Taylor didn't want to know what she was just doing. Then again, maybe she just fell down the stairs. Hopefully she just fell down the stairs.

Mallory cleared her throat awkwardly, grinning sheepishly at Taylor, "Hi! Uh, Taylor, what are you doing here?"

"That's Taylor Smith?" August asked with raised eyebrows, "But she's so pretty. She can't have such a basic last name."

"'She' is right there, August, be nice," Mallory scolded.

The teenager held her hands up in defence.

"She is actually called Taylor Swift," Taylor smiled awkwardly, "I did an interview not long ago where the interviewer called me Taylor Smith and I guess that's where Mal got it from."

August's eyes widened, "She let's you call her Mal?"

"Yeah?"

Mallory cut in quickly, "Okay, you," She pointed at her sister, "Lexie needs cuddles. And you," She pointed at Taylor, "Follow me. Shoes off, please."

Taylor followed her into the house, slipping off her pumps by the door and shutting it behind her. Mallory led Taylor into her bedroom, and sat her down on the bed.

"Do you really have magazines of me under your bed?" Taylor asked with a grimace.

Mallory blushed, "Yes. But not in a they're-my-version-of-a-playboy kind of way, in a my-father's-a-raging-homophobe-and-I'm-so-gay-for-you kind of way," Mallory said truthfully. She watched for a second as Taylor sat there, shook, "What are you doing here?"