Red (Ted Sweeran Romance)

10- J is for Joking

"Friendship," teases Caitlin. "Like that's all it is."

I swat her arm playfully and start walking towards the elevator at the end of the carpark. Suitcase wheels and footsteps echo behind me inside these hollow walls, but nobody walks beside me. My stomach is churning, filled with butterflies even though I have nothing to be nervous about. There's a sneaky suspicion in the back of my mind that perhaps the floor might cave in underneath me, and maybe I'll just sink deeper and deeper into the ground and the darkness will swallow me whole.

The elevator is definitely not big enough for us all. I mean, we've booked out two entire floors of the hotel. That must count for something. So I step into the sneering mouth of the lift first, and end up being stuffed inside with Ed, Caitlin, Paul and Grant. I prepare myself to be taunted for the length of the ride.

Paul stabs the button for the lobby and the doors close at a dramatically slow pace. It feels dangerous to watch them shut. I am locked inside with three people who will tease the remaining two. Ed makes a point of standing on the other side to me, like he's trying to prove we aren't a thing. At least, we aren't a thing in front of them.

"I wasn't going to go in this one," Caitlin begins smugly. "But everyone knows how Ed spends his time in elevators."

"I wish I'd never written that goddamn lyric," Ed laughs. I feel almost offended, but he takes it so lightheartedly that it's difficult to see her joke as insulting.

"It's a great line!" Protests Grant, waving his arms about in the air.

"I reckon one night, you should just casually yell out the real line instead of the blanked-out version on this tour," Caitlin nods approvingly. I draw the line at this point.

"Hey, I asked for it to be cut within reason," I say defensively. It's fine for my friends to tease me a little, but I'm not okay when it's so constant. "I've got young fans. They don't need to hear that."

"God, you're so squeaky clean!" She groans. "I'm not saying that I don't think you're doing the right thing. You're an incredible role model for your fans. But sometimes you just gotta lighten up! Relax, have fun. You don't need to be perfect."

I fold my arms across my chest. Ed shoots me a look that seems to be his attempt at meaningful, but I can't calculate the message he's trying to send.

"Why don't we all go out tonight?" Caitlin continues, offering me a dangerous option. "You, me and whoever else wants to come. Ed can rock on up if he likes, too."

"I'll go," Ed announces. For some reason I'm surprised by this. It's stupid. I should have expected his answer, considering how much he loves his beer. I know that Ed's not exactly an alcoholic or a constant party guy, but he does like to go out some nights, and it makes sense for him to want a break tonight.

"Taylor? You in?" Caitlin asks, ignoring Grant and Paul beside her. She's probably in line not asking them. Paul is- no offence to him- too old for partying, and ever since Grant's engagement, he's just been less of a club sort of guy.

I bite my lip, trying to find an answer. It's not that I don't enjoy clubbing. I mean, I can't dance for shit, but I at least try to. I mean, for goodness sake, that was where I met Jake. But I try to keep up such an unbreakable mask of perfection for the world, and clubbing is just out of bounds.

"I don't know," I admit. "I mean, clubs are notorious for crappy cellphone photos. The last thing I need is for some dick to snap a selfie with a drunk Taylor Swift."

"You don't have to drink," Caitlin persists. Finally, the doors of the elevator slide effortlessly open, revealing the hotel to our curious eyes. She keeps talking, running off about something I don't hear, because I am too busy admiring the enormous foyer we stand in.

You'd think I'd be used to luxury by now, but every beautiful place I stumble across still leaves me breathless. This place is no exception. In the center of the room, an enormous white fountain stands, spraying out an endless stream of transparent water that reflects all around it. Mirror images of the purple stained diamonds dangling from the ceiling dance around in the water. The marble floors are so shiny, you can see your own face in them, and there are endless windows instead of walls. I am standing inside a mansion.

"Whoa," I whisper to myself. But then the peace is shattered by mind-boggingly loud screaming, the sort of screaming you'd hear from teenage girls spotting One Direction out on the street. Or... Taylor Swift.

"Somebody likes you," Ed hisses teasingly in my ear. I laugh, but inside I am crying. All of these people, they're here for me, and I am endlessly grateful, but I just want ten minutes to unpack and relax freely in my own room. The bus isn't good enough. It's cramped and awkward, even though I love it. That love just doesn't change how inconvenient it can be.

Kind of like fans, actually.

Caitlin has stopped chattering away, staring breathlessly around the lobby and out at the shrieking people outside. They're all clumped up at the hotel doors, automatic openers, almost spilling out onto the busy roads outside. I pray nobody will be run over in their mad craze for me to see them. And I see them, all right. I watch a girl's face get smashed into the glass doors, and wince. They should be opening for her, but they've been locked. My fault.

"I have to get out there," I sigh.

"No you don't." Paul is beside me on my left now, his smile a welcome greeting. "When have you ever skipped meeting fans before, Taylor? Not once in your career have you willingly not met up with them. I know you're thankful for them, but you can take a break. Just this once. Like Caitlin said, you need to loosen up."

Ironically, his words make me stiffen. Caitlin and Paul are talking as if I'm someone who doesn't know how to have fun. I don't think that's an accurate description. Personally, I see myself as perfectly fun. I loved going to Disneyland. That was fun! How am I not fun?

"I have to see them," I insist. I'm still tired and I don't look all that great, since I haven't yet dried my hair from showering, but it'll have to do. My fans love me for my music and who I am, not how I look- at least, I hope that's the case.

"You really don't have to," Ed says, but I am already walking out the door. An assistant from the hotel rushes up to greet me politely before unlocking the door for me. As he turns the key, I make my decision. I will loosen up and I will go out with Caitlin, just this once.

"Thank you," I say to the man gratefully, before I am swallowed in the crowd.

*