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When the elections came to an end right after the first week of November and a new president was elected, Grace was the one who called Taylor.

Taylor had expressed unease towards the entire thing, she wanted to speak out but her team said it wasn't a good idea, not with her current media standings. She recalled someone saying it was a good way to halve the amount of people coming to the next show and she unfortunately believed it.

So Grace called, she had sent in her absentee ballot beforehand and knew Taylor was headed with her Mom to vote. She couldn't believe that it had turned out how it had, and she knew Taylor would be disappointed.

So it wasn't a surprise when Grace reached Taylor's voicemail instead of Taylor.

"Hi, darling," Grace began, "I just called to check in. Please return my call when you feel able to, I'm going to head back to sleep for a while but my sound is on. I love you."

Taylor had lectured her one too many times about the cold voicemails, she had to try a different way.

Sometimes it was hard for Grace to separate the version Taylor saw from the one she was supposed to be. Elbows went on the table by accident more often, her mind wandered from conversations she needed to listen to because Taylor's song was playing on repeat. Usually some line that amused her, like the ones from Shake It Off or Stay, Stay, Stay.

It was a good problem to have for anyone who wasn't supposed to be the prim and proper heiress to a multi-billion dollar empire.

In the morning, Grace woke up to a voicemail and realized she had slept through Taylor's call. She had only missed her by a few minutes, though. She redialled and finally got through, "Hi."

"Hey," Taylor said softly, "Sorry, I just got back from the studio. You okay?"

"I'm fine," Grace replied, she rubbed her eyes to try and wake up more, "How are you?"

"Fine," Taylor gulped, "Okay, not fine."

"It's four in the morning in Nashville, Taylor, I assumed you were not if you were awake," Grace admitted, although it wasn't in a way that seemed to be full of attitude. It was said as though she knew Taylor, she could understand a little about what made her tick and how her brain worked.

"He's going to be the president and I'm scared of what that means," Taylor felt her voice crack, "I'm scared for so many people."

"There are many things I can fix," Grace began, "I'm sorry that this isn't one of them."

"You and I both know that money doesn't bring happiness," Taylor nearly laughed as she recalled the night they met and discussed that, "Maybe I'll come visit for a couple days. Forget about all of this shit here, I'm starting to like the overcast London vibe."

"I'll build you your own wing, we'll fill in the pond and tack it on right there. You can move in when construction's complete," Grace tried to make light of the situation.

"You love your pond," the blonde yawned, too stressed too sleep regardless of what her body actually wanted, "But thanks for the offer."

"Is there anything I can do to assist in alleviating your anxiety?" The heiress asked gently, she would've done anything Taylor asked.

"Do you want to get some of those files and see if you can get dirt on him before everything goes to shit?"

"That would be more than a tad unethical, my love," Grace smiled weakly, "I'm going to let you get some rest. Do your best to relax, nothing you can do right now will change the outcome."

"Gracie?" Taylor's voice was quiet, "I appreciate that you called."

"It's nothing," Grace played it off, she did that a lot, "If you decide to come stay, I must warn you that Charles and I will be hosting his siblings for a few days next week. I'm afraid your presence in my bedroom would be too hard to explain."

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