call it what you want | Taylor Swift X Travis Kelce

Chapter 30

The dressing room hummed with the sound of my hairdryer a, engrossed in the process of styling my hair. Amidst the buzzing ambiance, I turned to Tree, a tinge of concern coloring my tone. "Are you sure it is safe?"

Her response was immediate and brutally honest. "Honestly, love, no," she confessed, her fingers dancing across the screen of her phone, a flurry of emails and inquiries.

My frustration was palpable. "Then why are we even considering doing this show?" I blurted out, an edge of exasperation creeping into my voice.

The air crackled with tension as Tree's frustration mirrored my own. "We can't get out of the contract," she confessed, her voice bearing the weight of the fruitless negotiations.

I paced across the room, a surge of determination igniting within me. "Keep them as safe as possible. I don't care what it costs," I declared, striding over to my purse and retrieving my black card, an item I rarely used.

My gesture conveyed the gravity of the situation. Handing the card to Tree, I shot her a meaningful look. Our shared understanding spoke volumes. She had access to all my card information for moments like these, requiring swift action.

"Taylor," she began, her tone filled with both concern and a hint of disappointment. "Take care of yourself. I'll take care of the audience," she sighed, resigned to the reality we faced. The weight of the responsibility hung heavy in the room as we grappled with the unforeseen challenges.

I anticipated the show would be challenging, but the reality exceeded any expectation I had prepared for. There were moments when my team was hustling, distributing bottled water to fans, something unprecedented in any of my performances. At times, I found myself personally handing water to fans, acutely aware of their discomfort in the stifling heat.

As the show progressed, the grueling conditions took their toll. By the time the Red set began, my skin was ablaze with heat rash, and the agony escalated as we reached the 1989 set. Every movement became excruciating. Usually, during performances, I could push through without sensing the effects. But this show was different. I felt every pang, every ache, as if my body were on the verge of collapse. Gasping for air, I leaned back, struggling to catch my breath.

As the final chords faded and I was allowed under the stage, I collapsed onto the floor, overwhelmed by the searing pain coursing through me. The physical strain I had endured during this show had taken its toll, leaving me drained and immobilized by the sheer agony.

The lights came on, the stage crew hastened their steps, and amidst the chaos, Tree's voice cut through the commotion. "Get her a cold towel!" she commanded, her tone urgent and assertive as she swiftly maneuvered me away from the moving part of the stage where I was gently laid down.

Within moments, a cool, ice-cold towel was laid upon my overheated skin, offering a momentary respite from the searing pain. Simultaneously, another member of the team attended to the heat rash that had ravaged my body, gently applying soothing burn cream to alleviate the discomfort.

The intensity of the agony overwhelmed me, and tears welled up in my eyes. "I want Travis," I cried out, the sharp pain coursing through my body, amplifying my longing for his comforting presence.

In the midst of the distress, Tree settled her phone up against an empty water bottle, quickly initiating a FaceTime call with Travis. As his face appeared on the screen, my heart ached, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face, my voice tremulous with raw emotion.

"I want to go home," I sobbed to him, the pain and exhaustion overwhelming me, every word a plea for relief.

Travis's face on the screen registered a mix of concern and helplessness. "I know, love. I know," he responded, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty, at a loss for how to alleviate my suffering despite his genuine concern. His earnestness was evident, a silent promise of comfort through the miles that separated us.

I clung to the phone screen, seeking solace in Travis's virtual presence. The pain surged through me, each breath feeling like an immense struggle. The team worked around me, tending to the burns and trying to ease the agony.

"I'm so sorry, I wish i could be there with you," Travis uttered, his voice filled with regret, longing to be by my side.

"I just want to be home," I murmured through my tears, feeling utterly drained and vulnerable.

Travis's eyes reflected a mix of compassion and helplessness, his heart clearly aching for my distress. "I am right here, I will be here when you come home." he assured me, a fervent pledge to ease my suffering.

I nodded weakly, my mind clouded with pain and fatigue, barely registering the movements around me. Tree and the team continued to attend to my needs, their efforts a blur against the overwhelming sensation of discomfort.

In the midst of the chaos, Travis's voice remained a constant, offering words of comfort, reassurance, and love, a lifeline in the darkness of that trying moment.

In that moment, the world seemed to blur into a whirlwind of discomfort and agony. I lay on the floor, feeling every inch of my body aflame with searing heat and an unbearable prickling sensation. Travis remained on the screen, his face etched with concern, his voice a steady stream of reassurance amidst the turmoil.

Every breath was a laborious task, as if a weight was pressing down on my chest, suffocating and stifling. It felt like an eternity, an hour that stretched into a surreal passage of time, my body trapped in a state of unbearable distress.

The pain was unrelenting, seeping into every pore, leaving me immobilized and gasping for air. I clung to Travis's voice, his words a lifeline amid the anguish, his soothing tones offering a semblance of comfort in the midst of the overwhelming suffering.

The room was a hive of activity, people bustling around me, their faces a blur amidst the haze of pain. Ice-cold towels and burn creams offered fleeting moments of relief, yet the torment persisted, unyielding and all-encompassing.

Travis's face remained a constant on the screen, his presence a beacon of support in the midst of the chaos. His voice, laced with worry and tenderness, was the only thing that kept me grounded, the only thing that offered solace in that excruciating moment.