I looked at her and smiled wide. “You look like a freaking star. You do belong here.”
“I still can’t believe I am here,” she said, eyes wide like she hadn’t just become one of the people I trust most in the world. “This beats the hell out of Friday night tacos.”
“Who says we’re skipping tacos?” I winked, and she giggled.
As the lights dimmed and the opening act started, Sabrina leaned over. “Okay, before the cameras catch me crying, can I just say I’m so glad you’re back. Like, not just ‘you dropped an album’ back. But you. You-you. That soft, happy, slightly chaotic version of you that tells me everything and overshares about your husband.”
I laughed. “I missed you too.”
“And I swear to God,” she whispered, pointing at my chest, “if one of those Versace straps gives out mid-acceptance speech, I’ll cover for you. I’ll just throw myself at you like a human blanket.”
Gracie leaned over me, grinning. “I will also take one for the team. I mean, we could go viral.”
“Great,” I said, smirking. “Between you two, I’m totally covered.”
I sat back, heart full, looking around the theater as the host took the stage. I was here, surrounded by people I loved, dressed like a queen, and riding high on love, milk, and adrenaline. And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was chasing something. I felt like I’d already caught it.
And I wasn’t letting go.
---
The air in the room buzzed, the kind of electric tension that always crackled before they opened an envelope. Gracie was bouncing her heel under her seat, trying to play it cool. But I could see it—the way her hand subtly clenched the program in her lap, how her eyes darted toward the stage every five seconds.
“And the award for Best New Artist goes to…” the presenter paused dramatically, and I swear time slowed.
“Gracie Abrams!”
Gracie gasped. Her eyes widened as her name echoed through the room and the camera panned to our row. Sabrina and I were already up on our feet, clapping and screaming. Gracie’s hands flew to her face. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“You did it!” I cheered, hugging her tightly before pushing her gently toward the aisle. “Go, girl. That’s all you!”
She ran-walked to the stage, heels clicking, looking like disbelief personified. I watched her from the second row, eyes misty. This was her moment, and she freaking earned it.
When she finally got up there, clutching the award in both hands, she gave a shaky laugh. “This is… unreal. I used to sit in my bedroom and cry to Taylor Swift songs—and now she’s sitting there watching me win this? Like, what is life?”
I laughed, heart swelling, hands clapping like a proud mom.
“Thank you to everyone who believed in me,” Gracie said, eyes glassy. “Taylor, Sabrina—you two are my compass. I wouldn’t be standing here without you.”
Sabrina leaned over, whispering, “If she makes me cry in this makeup, I’m suing.”
We both laughed through our tears.
---
Later in the night, the presenter for Song of the Summer walked on stage. “This track was everywhere—cars, parties, heartbreaks, first kisses. And the winner is… Sabrina Carpenter, 'If We Made It.'”
Sabrina squealed beside me, hugging me tightly before leaping up and strutting toward the stage. “OKAY. YES. This is for every girl who got ghosted and wrote a banger about it!” she laughed into the mic. Classic Sabrina.
YOU ARE READING
Invisible String
FanfictionWe always thought it would be easy - or at least, easier than this. Starting a family was the next chapter we were so ready for. After years of tour buses, locker rooms, sold-out stadiums, and quiet nights tangled up on the couch, we finally looked...
