Camera Flashes (1) - Taylor Swift

7

"Hello, Taylor. This is Grace Kent returning your call," Grace started, having caught Taylor's voicemail for the second time. The last message Taylor had left, where she rambled endlessly, had brought such a smile to Grace's face that she couldn't even wait for the message to finish before she wanted to start talking, "I am sorry to hear that your relationship has come to an end. What are you doing in New York next week? My schedule could be amenable to it if you would be agreeable to crossing paths. I shall not anticipate your call, as we have previously established."

There was a slight pause, Grace thought maybe she should hang up, but just the tiniest bit of her felt the need to add on one more thing.

"I hope you have a brilliant day."

Eight hours later, the blonde pop-star was absolutely exhausted. She was checking her many voicemails again when she got to the end of the line and finally heard the English accent she associated with dimples and big words begin to play.

Taylor dialled, she wondered if she could text but Grace seemed too formal to do that. She was right, Grace would've sat there switching out words until her paragraphs were full length dissertations before hitting send.

She caught her voicemail again, Grace was at lunch with her mother and her assistant was holding onto her phone in the meantime.

"Hey, I missed your call again. We're playing phone tag today, huh? I'm waiting for my townhouse rental to be ready, I'm doing some renovations to my place in New York. I'll be there Monday and Tuesday, if you end up in the area we could get a drink at the bar down the street. No pressure, I'll probably be in and out anyways so if you make it that's cool. I won't sit by the phone but I do have a new phrase for you. Hang out, it's like, getting together. Do you want to hang out? It's much easier to say than whatever the hell you got out in your last message, you sounded out of breath by the end of it. Have a sumptuous evening," Taylor poked fun at the brunette at the end, she was like ninety percent sure she got that word right.

When Grace called back after an extraordinarily boring and awkward lunch with her mother and sister-in-law for their monthly get together, she called Taylor while in the back of the car, expecting to get her voicemail.

"Hey," Taylor answered, and suddenly Grace had absolutely no idea what to say.

There was a long pause, so long that Taylor actually said hello again in case the call had gone fuzzy, but no, Grace could hear her clear as day.

"Sumptuous means lavish. You told me to have a lavish evening."

"You have a live-in butler, dude. Would you not have a lavish night regularly?" Taylor laughed, a little confused. Grace seemed... unsure, which wasn't normal. It wasn't normal at all.

"I suppose I would, yes. I must be honest and admit that I was expecting your voicemail," Grace cleared her throat, she looked out the window of the car but could see very little through the tint. It was so gloomy that day.

"Ah, I see. Anyways, are you thinking you'll want to get a drink on Monday night? I could reserve a table at the Bowery Electric, what do you think about eight?" The blonde asked, she didn't want to seem like it but she was hopeful that Grace would agree. Something about her peaked Taylor's interest.

"Consider it a tryst... platonically."

"Platonically, yes," Taylor laughed at how Grace corrected herself so nervously, "Okay, I'll call you if I can't get us in but I'm fairly confident that I can. See you on Monday."

"See you then," Grace said and then ended the call. She let out the biggest breath she had been holding in from nervousness once she was certain the call had ended, her shoulders suddenly ten times lighter.