A/N: hey this might the most predictable chapter ever but whatever. i would've broken it down into 2 but then they'd have like no plot at all.
but fr, thank you all so much for reading. literally anytime i see that tiny orange dot on my profile, i get like 100x more happier.
enjoy :)))
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
🌼 Isn't it delicate? 🌼
"This... is... complete... torture," Taylor breathes out.
"Stop being so dramatic. We're not even four miles in."
"This is supposed to be longer than four miles?"
"The trail's supposed to be around eight, I think," Karlie responds, laughing when Taylor gapes at her in absolute shock.
"Are you being serious? Eight miles? Eight? Miles?"
"Yes, and we're not even halfway, so hurry up."
Taylor throws her head back and groans, reluctantly walking faster to meet Karlie's speed. She knew the second the model had proposed to pull over and go on a hike that it'd be a painful idea, and she was exactly right. Who in their right minds would voluntarily walk eight goddamn miles?
In spite of her calves burning so hot they could singe themselves off and the infinite beads of sweat sliding through her turtleneck (a terrible choice of a shirt now that she mulls over it), at least the scenery made up for the exhaust squeezing her lungs. The colossal-sized trees shooting out of the soft dirt provided some sort of shade and lovely little flowers dotting the bushes poked out all over the place. If she wasn't on the verge of collapsing, she most definitely would stop every 10 seconds to snap a quick picture.
"Not only are you tormenting me, but you're also tormenting my poor security guards," Taylor breathlessly says. She flicks her head towards Greg and Mark who don't even look like they've broken a sweat, which isn't exactly helping her case too much. "What did they ever do to you?"
"Some people actually enjoy exercising, you know," Karlie smiles, her voice firm and steady like they hadn't been constantly hiking up and down numerous hills for the past hour and a half.
"I will never understand you and your healthy mindset."
"Wasn't your New Year's resolution to work out more?"
"Yes, but that was before I was being dragged up a hill."
"You're exaggerating, but okay," Karlie smirks.
"My legs hurt," the singer complains, almost tripping over a rock hidden in the dirt. "Like, a lot."
"How do you survive dancing around for two hours onstage but not an eight-mile hike?"
"Those are two very different things," she huffs. "Can we turn back now?"
"Tay, you're reminding me of a whiny little toddler right now."
"I'm going to take that as a compliment because usually whiny little toddlers get what they want, so can we head back?" she asks hopefully.
"You're no fun," the model pouts, and thank the lord that she finally turns on her heels with the dramatic roll of her eyes. Taylor lets out a huge breath of relief, following Karlie in the opposite direction.
"Not everyone is built like a bodybuilder if you haven't noticed," Taylor says dryly, pointing at Karlie's biceps. "I mean, come on, look at those things."
"Well, maybe if you'd go through with your resolutions and go to the gym, you'd be just as fit."
"I'll stick to admiring, thanks," Taylor laughs, internally smacking herself in the face because who the hell says that to their friend?
Wait. Scratch that.
Best friends. They're best friends now. Taylor Swift is best friends with Karlie Kloss and just that sentence alone makes her pulse rate accelerate about 150% faster.
Best friends. It sounds kind of weird, honestly– but a good type of weird, if that makes any sense. This weird makes her feel like every bone in her body just disappeared, which she is aware sounds extremely dramatic for being told that she's Karlie Kloss' best friend, but it's so accurately true.
They slowly make their way back through the trail, Karlie grumbling something along the lines of "staying healthy" and "eight miles is practically nothing" and Taylor almost kisses her so she'll shut up, but she doesn't, because in her experience best friends typically don't kiss each other on the mouth.
But she does slip her hand into Karlie's because best friends actually do hold hands (someone needs to ingrain that into Tree's brain) and feeling her fingers intertwined against Karlie's might just be one of her most favorite things in the world.
And, yeah, the prospect that any random person could walk in on Taylor Swift holding hands with a woman while completely drenched in sweat is a bit unnerving, but the fond glance Karlie sends her way every so often totally makes up for it.
Besides, they're in Big Sur at the tail end of winter. Practically no one comes here during this time of year. Worst case scenario she'll take a picture with whoever spots her and just request them to turn off their location before they post. Simple.
"Wait, wait, stop, hold on," Taylor suddenly says, digging her feet into the dirt. Karlie turns to look at her, slightly alarmed.
"What is it?"
Taylor briefly pulls away, stooping down to pluck a tiny, vibrant flower sticking out from a clump of bushes. "Stay still," she smiles, and stands on her toes to delicately tuck the small daisy in Karlie's tied-up hair, giggling once she's finished. "Perfect."
"Did you just put a weed in my hair?" Karlie asks, her tone teasing.
"Daisies are not weeds. They're cute little flowers that symbolize purity and new beginnings."
"Do you have some sort of flower Wikipedia site inside your brain or something?"
"Be appreciative. Some people would pay a lot of money for Taylor Swift to stick a plant in their hair, you know."
"Who says I'm not appreciative?" Karlie slides her arm around the singer's slim waist, her grip tight, and raises up her phone. A smile spreads on Taylor's face as she waits for the model to capture the picture. But at the last second, Karlie's mouth presses against her cheek, and Taylor's bones only slightly crumble at the contact as the camera clicks. "There. Now I can appreciate this moment forever."
"So incredibly intelligent of you," Taylor teases.
"Hey, do you think Tree would have a meltdown if I posted this on my Instagram once we find service?" Karlie asks, her voice lighthearted but her question so serious that the singer almost frowns.
"I mean... yeah, probably, but–" Taylor shakes her head, cutting herself off with a scoff. "You know what? Doesn't matter. She can't control what you do. You should post it."
"Actually?"
"Actually."
"Huh. I was expecting you to totally flip out," Karlie says.
Taylor playfully bumps her shoulder into the model's, remarking, "Well, I think the world should know that we're best friends now. It's only fair."
"Even if Tree screams at you for three hours?"
"Make it four hours. Nothing I can't handle." She lifts up her arms and pretends to flex her non-existent muscles, eliciting the most adorable giggle she's ever heard out of the model.
"Yeah, no, we're gonna have to work on those. We're heading straight to the gym the second we get back."
"Yeah. Good luck with that."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taylor notices Karlie's annoyed frown as she scrolls through her phone, her finger furiously tapping the screen like somehow that could add more downloaded music into her library. "We've listened to literally every single song on here three times already! I knew I should've bought that one Beyoncé album."
"Yeah, you should have. It was pretty good," Taylor agrees, settling into her seat.
"We could listen to the radio, I guess," the model shrugs. "Probably going to be super staticky."
Taylor nods slowly, an idea creeping its way into her mind. A smirk appears on her lips and in a light and airy voice, she wonders, "If only someone would've brought an unreleased pop album that not a single person has heard yet..." She sighs exaggeratedly, throwing Karlie a sideways look.
The model lets out a disbelieving laugh. "Yeah, that would be pretty nice."
"It'd be so cool if one of us had some sort of CD somewhere in their purse."
She mindlessly nods, slowly pulling out of their parking space. "It would be, I guess. I don't think people really use CDs that much anymore though." Taylor suppresses rolling her eyes at that. Karlie obliviously cruises down the road without another thought, and the singer is desperately hoping that the stupid "dumb model" stereotype isn't true.
"Stop glaring at me," Karlie laughs. "You can handle some fuzzy radio, can't you?"
"You're so dumb," Taylor groans, slumping in her seat.
Karlie smirks beside her, thankfully no offense taken, and says, "Well I'm sorry that I didn't think of downloading music before we left."
"It's not that."
"Then what is it?"
"What do you mean 'what is it?' I'm trying to convey something to you."
"Well, you should probably try harder because I'm not getting anything," Karlie tells her.
"Ugh. You are making this really hard right now."
Karlie's grinning widely despite Taylor's groaning, and if she wasn't so ticked off she'd find it much too endearing to be considered a 'best friend' thought.
"Still really confused," Karlie says blankly, meeting the singer's hard stare.
"Were you not listening to anything I was saying, like, a minute ago?"
"Of course I was."
"Well, if you were, you'd know exactly what I'm talking about," Taylor sighs.
"Can't you just tell me?"
"Can't you just use that ultra-smart nerd brain of yours?"
"Wow, you just really love to bully me," the model laughs again. "But, seriously, I'm clueless on what you're trying to tell me here."
"I was trying to tell you about this." Taylor bends down in her seat to swipe the thin paper package from her bag with a tiny grunt. She raises it in the air for her best friend to finally get a clue. And yet she still has that stupid brainless smile on her face, her eyes sliding from Taylor to the CD skeptically.
"You wanted to tell me about a blank piece of paper?" she asks, her brows knitting.
"It's a CD," Taylor deadpans.
"A CD? What? Why do you have a– wait." Karlie abruptly pauses, her eyes widening in realization. "Wait. Are you telling me that's... the album?
"Yes, Karlie. It's... the album," she teases, mirroring the model's tone.
"That's the album!" Karlie frantically yells. "Oh my god! Seriously? The album?"
"Yeah," Taylor says with a wide grin at the model's enthusiasm. "Took you long enough."
"I thought you were just being annoying at first but then– wow. Wow. Your album is right there. In my car. Sitting in your hands. This second. Oh my god, this is crazy." Karlie shakes her head as if this was some sort of unbelievable daydream. And god, does she look genuinely excited. Yeah, okay, Taylor's friends are also happy whenever she introduces them to her new music, but Karlie's energy is at another level. The singer can't help but giggle watching her best friend freak out, her hands bouncing on the steering wheel in excitement and her face scarily resembling an eager puppy.
"Okay, please keep your eyes on the road. I don't need to be another car crash victim," Taylor says, only half-joking.
"Sorry, I just– I just can't believe it. Like, this is really crazy. I have no idea how you're not freaking out with me."
"It's an album."
"Yes, but it's a Taylor Swift album," Karlie adds with a proud smile.
"Is that supposed to change the fact that it's a simple album?"
"Yes! Tay, you're a genius. Stop being so modest." She shakes her head in disbelief. "God, I'm just really lucking out today. First, I wake up after six A.M. and you're clinging onto me like I'm your lifeline, but let's be honest, I probably am."
"Well, I'm not gonna argue with you there," the singer shrugs, sending her a teasing smile.
"Second, we got to go on a hike– of course, you made us turn around before we hit the halfway mark, but at least we got some exercise, right? And then Taylor Swift stuck a flower in my hair, which is still miraculously hanging in there, and I appreciate that very much," Karlie grins, recalling their conversation from earlier this morning. "And to top it all off, I'm gonna listen to the masterpiece that will be 1989 before anyone else. Tell me that this is not worth freaking out about!"
"Well, you said you wanted to be the first one to hear it so..." Taylor sheepishly shrugs under the model's electrified stare, Karlie looking like she's going to bounce out of her seat into the sky.
"I didn't think you were actually going to let me."
"Well, I did, so don't make me regret it."
"I won't, I won't, just put it in the CD player or else I'm gonna go insane," the model urges, feverishly tapping the center console.
"Do you want, like, explanations first?" Taylor asks.
"Huh?"
"You know, like... context about the songs. Who and what it's about, things like that."
Karlie blinks a few times. "You're comfortable with sharing that?"
"Of course I am. You're my best friend."
The model beams, nodding to herself proudly. "That's right. I'm Taylor Swift's best friend."
Taylor laughs again, gently sliding the disc inside Karlie's audio system, speaking before pressing the play button. "Okay, so this first song is the opener for the album. It's not really about a specific person, more about– you know, the freedom and beauty that New York has to offer. I wrote it just before I moved because I was already infatuated with the city, so then I took it to the studio, and I decided it had the perfect sound to open the album. It's definitely the most synth-sounding song, so it's also really great to have it as the first track people hear so they'll understand that this is the total opposite of what I've done in the past, you know? It's pure pop– not country, not country-pop– just simply pop."
Karlie nods in response, looking as if she was eating up every word. "I already love it."
The singer grins. "Yeah, we'll see. Um, anyway, it's called 'Welcome To New York.'"
Taylor moves to start the song, the knot in her stomach suddenly tightening as the first beat booms through the speakers. Her voice filters through the air, louder than the wind whistling through their hair as they drive. Karlie begins to nod along to the beat. They're both silent for the whole 3 minutes and 33 seconds of music, especially during the "You can want who you want, boys and boys and girls and girls," part, which Taylor didn't realize how nerve-racking that was going to be until it played.
It feels like a fresh breath of air when the synth slowly fades out. She bolts to pause the CD and hesitantly turns to Karlie. "So," she starts uneasily, "what did you think?"
"Taylor."
Karlie's eyes are wide, and she can't tell if it's in amazement or disgust.
"...Yeah?"
"That. Was. Incredible."
"Oh, thank god." She slouches in her seat, a relieved laugh escaping her mouth. "So you liked it then?"
"Liked it? I loved it!" she exclaims. "That's, like, quality pop music!"
"You think so?"
"Jesus, where did all your confidence go? Yes, Tay, that is a really great pop song and you should be proud of it. Okay?"
"Okay," she nods with a shy grin. "Well, moving on from that one, the second song is called 'Blank Space.' This is really more about the media that's completely made my life a joke for everyone to laugh at, especially my dating life, and created some sort of, you know, 'man-eating' persona for me. So I decided to write it from the perspective of the person they decided I was."
This song runs much smoother than the last. She's slightly more relaxed, even letting out a few laughs when Karlie giggles at the bold lyrics before the choruses.
"Okay. That's genius," Karlie comments as the song finishes up.
"I know," she easily agrees. Her assurance is slowly trickling back, especially with the help of Karlie's excessive compliments.
"That one should be a single. It'd totally put all those critics in their place."
"Yeah, it's too good to not be a single," Taylor says. "So, um, this next one is called 'Style.' It's kind of about two people who keep coming back to each other even though it never ends well and... uh, I obviously got most of the inspiration from Harry since we were so on-and-off back then."
She plays the track before Karlie can gag at the mention of her ex, and soon enough the model is dancing to the beat, her shoulders swaying around so much that Taylor has no choice but to burst out laughing.
"That was so fun! Taylor, how are you so nervous about all of these? The songs are amazing!" Karlie says enthusiastically.
"I think you're just being overly supportive."
"Overly supportive? No way. This album is making history."
Taylor chuckles. "We're not even four songs in."
"Don't care. Still making history."
The singer rolls her eyes at Karlie's persistence. "Are you finished raving about an album you haven't even listened to halfway yet?"
"No, actually, I'm not. What's the next song?"
"Okay, well, this track is probably one of the most vulnerable and one of my favorites on the record. It's called 'Out of the Woods' and it's about, like, the anxiety and panic of my relationship, sort of. We were always wondering 'How long are we gonna last?' So, yeah, this one is also about Harry," Taylor explains, her voice faltering at the name of her ex again.
"Wow. He sure is getting a lot of airtime," Karlie smirks.
"They're not all about him."
"Really? Who else?"
"I'm getting there, be patient," Taylor playfully says as the song begins to play.
After about a minute, Karlie whispers, "This is kind of scary."
"It's supposed to be," she whispers back.
"You're a genius. Did you know that?"
"Shh, you're missing the bridge."
Karlie closes her mouth, and Taylor can tell she's straining her ears to hear the music. When the song ends, the biggest smile she's ever seen alights the model's face.
"Whoa! That was– that was, like, really powerful!" she says loudly. "How do you write stuff like that?" Taylor lifts her hands up in a clueless shrug and Karlie laughs again, probably for the thousandth time today. "I keep forgetting how smart you are with this kind of thing."
"Are you calling me dumb?" Taylor teases.
"Didn't you just hear me? I said you were smart."
"No, you said you forgot how smart I was. That meant you previously thought I was not smart."
"You're overthinking this."
"Are you saying I'm overreacting?"
"Stop twisting my words, you dork!" she grins, pushing her shoulder.
"Okay, okay, let's move on," she laughs, her attention returning to the album. "So this next one is called 'All You Had To Do Was Stay,' and this one, actually..." Her voice falters off as she searches for the right words.
"C'mon, use your words, Tay."
"Shut up," Taylor giggles. "I was saying that this one, uh, is actually not about Harry."
Karlie raises an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Pretty much every other song past 'Out of the Woods' is about another ex," she answers. "Her– um, her name is Dianna. If you're curious."
"Dianna," Karlie repeats.
"Yes," Taylor says somewhat quietly. "She was before and after Harry."
Karlie hums in response. "On-and-off then?"
"Yeah. It wasn't pretty." Taylor's lips press into a tight line. She forces away those not-so-pleasant memories out of her mind, trying not to think about them– not now, anyway– and turns her attention back to the album. "So this one is about her. How she wouldn't just... stay. After everything. She wouldn't make up her mind, whether she wanted this or not. And yeah, she messed me up pretty bad here." A hollow laugh escapes her mouth as she leans forward to play the track, not glancing over to catch the model's reaction.
The rest of the album flies by, straightforward and easy. If Karlie isn't thoughtfully listening to the lyrics, she's dancing around in her seat, sometimes letting her jaw drop at the "astonishing" lyrics Taylor came up with. But if she'd been anyone else, Taylor would definitely tell her to quit acting like she's some sort of god. Karlie turns to her as the last few notes of "Clean" dwindle down and she almost jumps in surprise as the model's hand bolts to hers.
"Do you realize that what you've just created is, like, a literal masterpiece? And I'm not just being nice. That was really good. If I was some sort of music critic, I'd give that a solid thirteen out of ten," Karlie insists.
"You think so?"
"I don't think," Karlie says, "I know. You're gonna be shattering those records with this album, trust me."
Taylor flusteredly giggles again, probably for the hundredth time that hour. "I'm just glad you like it."
Karlie scoffs. "Someone would be tasteless to not like 1989, honestly– whoa! Hey, did you see that?" She instantly slows the car as Taylor's head snaps up, alarmed.
"What?"
"There's, like, some sort of thing over there. On the grass."
Karlie's out of the car a nanosecond later, clutching her phone, and peers over the fence at some kind of unidentifiable brown-gray blob. Security bolt out of their Lincoln not long after, and Taylor ignores Karlie's frown directed their way.
"What even is that?" Taylor asks once she's moved next to the model, staring at the animal– or, at least, that's what it looks like.
Karlie squints her eyes in concentration. "Google it."
"And how am I supposed to do that?"
"Um, you just open up the Google app?"
"Yeah, but what do I type in? 'Gray blob in Big Sur?'"
"I don't know! Maybe it's a manatee or something," Karlie wonders.
"Manatees aren't land animals, Kar."
"Well, do you have a better guess?"
"It looks like that one seal from Ice Age. The fourth movie. Did you see that?"
Karlie scoffs. "Of course I saw it."
"What animal was it?"
"I don't know, search it up."
"Huh! Wow! What a good idea! Except– oh no, there's no service," Taylor mocks dryly. "And he was an elephant seal, by the way. Only Ice Age superfans would know that."
"Nerd," Karlie grins, her arm slinging carelessly over Taylor's waist, and it almost shocks her at how natural it feels.
"You do not have the right to call me a nerd when you own every single Star Wars special edition movie on DVD," Taylor counters, leaning into her touch.
"Sorry that I have good taste in films, Taylor."
"Totally, of course," she smirks. "But, the point is, that's probably an elephant seal. Which we now know thanks to my extensive Ice Age knowledge, so you really should be thanking me profusely right now."
"Taylor," Karlie begins in all seriousness, "I want to so desperately thank you for watching each and every Ice Age movie, especially the fourth one, over a dozen times– even though it's made for five-year-olds. I am truly amazed by your persistence and lack of taste in movies."
"Wow. You are just hilarious."
"Stop. You love my humor so much. Don't even try to lie about it."
"You're funny," Taylor responds, "to some extent."
"You know what, let's just take a picture right now instead, because someone here doesn't appreciate my hilariousity."
"That's not a word, Kar. 'Hilariousity.' How do you even come up with stuff like that?" Taylor laughs, motioning for Mark to take her phone. Karlie's arms wrap around her waist, holding her close, as he points the camera at their faces.
"Make sure you get the elephant seal in the background, courtesy of Taylor Swift and her Ice Age obsession," Karlie reminds him.
"They're funny movies! Excuse me for preferring to watch something other than aliens blasting each other's heads off!"
"Smile," Mark instructs, interrupting their banter. Taylor's quick to throw on a funny expression as she hears the camera click. He hands the phone back to Karlie and she rolls her eyes while looking over the photo.
"Tay, that's not a smile."
"What? Are you being serious right now? That's not a smile?" Taylor says sarcastically, earning a push at her shoulder.
"Can I post this one too?" Karlie asks. "When we find service?"
Taylor's eyes dart to the picture again. The model's arms are thrown around her body, chest pressed closely to her back, hands clasped against her stomach. It's a friendly picture. Totally. Nothing romantic about it. Right? Of course, Tree won't be too happy about their position, but it's not like they're kissing or anything. There are much worse poses to be in anyway.
"Uh, sure, go ahead," she decides, adding a moment later, "but could you, um, kind of crop out the bottom part?"
The model's eyebrows fly up. "What? Why?"
"Nothing important, just– just it looks a little, you know..." Taylor trails off as she points at Karlie's arms wounded tightly around her in the photo. She waits a moment, hoping she'll understand.
But the singer's met with a perplexed expression, the model's vibrant smile wiped clean off her face and her eyes turned hard. "Are you serious?"
"Karlie," Taylor warns, voice lowering. "Please."
"I thought this was platonic enough for you," she says sharply.
"No, Kar, It's just that..." Taylor cuts herself off and closes her mouth unsurely. "Don't make this complicated. Okay?"
"The first picture was much worse," she mutters, "but fine."
"I'm just trying to save myself from an unnecessary call from Tree," she responds, significantly quieter this time when she catches sight of Mark gazing at them in concern at the model's pointed tone. "Please. I'm serious, Kar."
"Okay," Karlie caves. "I got it."
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah." She doesn't meet her stare and opens up the editing feature on her phone. The singer frowns.
"Please don't be mad," she quietly says, finding a way to move closer. She's met with silence. "Karlie?"
"I'm not mad, Taylor. Just let me finish cropping this, okay?"
"Alright," she responds, almost dejectedly, "I'm gonna be in the car."
Karlie hums in a half-hearted response. Taylor sighs, walking back to the Range Rover and sliding into the passenger seat. Day 2, ruined. Okay, well, it was inevitable. There's a reason the singer doesn't go on many road trips these days.
She pulls out her own phone, glancing at the corner. No service. As usual. She throws her head back in a silent groan and waits for Karlie to finish sulking outside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I'm– um, I'm sorry."
Taylor looks up from her book, meeting Karlie's strange stare. Her lips are curled in a guilty frown. Her eyes are surprisingly soft contrary to the stone-cold appearance they had only a few hours ago.
"What?"
"For what happened earlier," Karlie says, her voice quieting. "It was... I'm just–"
"Hey. It's fine." Taylor shuts her book and slides her glasses off, rising up from the chair she'd been camping out on. She takes a seat on the bed centimeters away from the model. "It's totally fine."
"No, it's not," she persists, dropping her gaze to the floor. "I keep doing this to you. I keep acting out because of something you can't control. And I'm sorry."
"We're fine," Taylor repeats softly. "Okay?"
Karlie shakes her head and scrunches her brows together. "You should be angrier at me."
Taylor lets out a light chuckle. "Angrier? Really?"
"Yes, really. This isn't fair to you," she insists.
"I mean, you're not wrong. I get that," the singer agrees with a sigh, moving closer. "But at the same time, I know you're not used to... me."
Karlie winces. "Don't say it like that."
"It's true," she purses her lips, "You can barely handle me."
"It's not you," she objects, "it's the media. And the publicity. And the general public. And the paparazzi. Not you."
"Kar, it is me," Taylor explains, her tone hardening. "Wherever I go, that's going to follow me." Her voice's firmness seems to fade when Karlie's eyes reflect her own misery. "This... this really isn't for the best, you know that, and I don't blame you for not wanting it."
"I do want it," she persists. The resistance laced through her words is heavy and convincing.
"You don't want it. You shouldn't."
"I don't care if I should or shouldn't," she says steadily. "But you know what I do care about? You. And no annoying pap with a long-focus lens camera is going to make me give you up." Her hand slides inside Taylor's, mouth twitching into a smirk, and the singer can only smile back like an idiot.
"Okay," she breathes.
"So we're good?"
"Yes, we're good."
"We were being cheesy again, weren't we," Karlie says with a grin.
"Ugh, beyond belief," Taylor agrees, slowly standing from the indention she made on the bed. "Alright, I think I'm going to go get some sleep."
The model's glowing smile drops into a frown. "But your room is all the way across the hall."
"We'll see each other in the morning, you know," Taylor laughs. "And you say I'm the clingy one."
Karlie pauses. "Will you... stay?"
Taylor almost falls to the floor.
"Here?"
"In the bed. Right next to me. Come on."
Taylor doesn't even have time to sputter out a response before Karlie slithers her arms around her waist and pulls her down to the comforter, giggling as the singer shrieks out in surprise.
"Jesus! A little warning would've been nice!" Taylor exclaims as she unravels herself from the model's arms. Except she doesn't get too far when Karlie tightens her hold and slips them both under the covers without even so much as a grunt.
"You can stay here for the night," she whispers in her ear, settling herself on her pillow.
"I mean, if you want," Taylor squeaks out.
"Yes. I want."
"That's bad grammar."
"Do you think I really care about grammar right now?"
"Well, I'd hope so."
Karlie smirks, sitting up slightly to switch off the light. Her arms are around Taylor's frame not a moment later. "I'm very glad that you're big so I can't crush you."
"Thanks?"
"Yeah, that was a compliment, you're welcome," she giggles into her hair. Taylor can feel the contents in her stomach coiling like she's curling hair around her with a finger. God.
"Night, Kar," she whispers.
"Night," she mumbles back. It doesn't take long for Taylor to fall asleep, Karlie's even breaths lulling her into unconsciousness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Who invented alarm clocks? Jesus Christ. Nothing that small should make a sound that annoying.
"Time to get up!" Despite it being 6:35 A.M. and still wrapped up in bedsheets, Karlie's voice is as bright as ever. Taylor lets out a low groan, squeezing her eyes shut.
"Kar, why did you set it so early?" she rasps out.
"So we can make it to the state park on time, duh."
"Ugh." She turns on her side, facing the opposite direction of the model. "Ten more minutes."
She can feel the motion of Karlie sitting up and placing her hands on Taylor's shoulders gently, lightly shaking them. "By the time you finally wake up, the bakery will be packed."
"I don't care."
"Yes you do. Come on, it's 6:36 now, we're already one minute off schedule."
"You know, for someone who's always running late, you're being very punctual right now," Taylor smirks, tightening the comforter against her neck.
Karlie lets out some sort of half-groan half-sigh. "One minute and fifteen seconds off schedule now."
"How about," Taylor begins, pulling the model down by her shoulders, "we stay here for ten more minutes, and then we get up."
"It's getting laaaate," she sings, however making no move to untangle herself out of Taylor's arms.
"Overstatement. It's not even seven yet."
"It will be if we don't get out of here." As if on instinct, her arms wrap around the singer's waist, which is definitely not convincing enough for Taylor to leave the bed.
"Oh no. Wouldn't that just be the absolute worst thing ever?" she dryly says. The sunlight peeking through the blinds is shut out as she finally closes her bleary eyes with a sigh.
"Stop being sarcastic, we need to get up," Karlie insists again.
"Mm, yeah, in a minute."
"Not in a minute, right now."
A yawn escapes Taylor's mouth. She relishes the warmth of Karlie's arms, the amount of heat never failing to amaze her. "Sure, sure, give me a few seconds."
"We don't have a few seconds."
"Yes we do– KARLIE!"
She's lifted out of the sheets and into the air, one hand tucked under her legs and the other against her back in some sort of bridal style position. Karlie's laughing maniacally in her ear.
"Put me down! It's cold!" Taylor complains, kicking her feet pointlessly.
"Time to face the day, princess," Karlie giggles, slowly moving off the bed with the singer squirming like a toddler against her chest.
"This isn't funny!"
"Hmm, you're much lighter than you let on." Karlie holds her closer as she saunters out of the bedroom, not even a grimace leaving her mouth as she effortlessly carries Taylor through the hotel room.
"Karlie! No one is laughing except you!"
"Why have I never done this before? You're so small."
"Small? Small? I'm five-eleven!"
"Very tiny," she smiles mockingly as she moves towards the couch.
Taylor swats at her lean arms. "Put me down!"
"Why? This is kinda fun."
"It's only fun for you!"
"Oh, don't pretend like you're not enjoying a free trip around the hotel room."
"Put. Me. Down."
Karlie tauntingly raises an eyebrow. "Is that really what you want?"
No, it's actually the opposite of what Taylor wants, but she's not going to be an idiot and say that out loud.
"Yes."
"Ugh. Fine." Karlie's arms suddenly disappear from below her frame, and Taylor falls on the couch cushions as a deafening scream leaves her mouth. "Happy now?" the model grumbles in defeat.
"One day you're gonna give me a heart attack," Taylor breathes out as she tries to catch her breath, her hand clutched over her chest.
Karlie giggles. "Drama queen."
"I'm sorry, but you can't make a habit out of pulling innocent people out of their warm beds and then hurling them on the nearest couch, Karlie."
"Only when some people aren't getting up on time," she says back accusingly. "Now hurry up, I don't want to also have to carry you to the car too."
"Ugh, I'm going, I'm going," Taylor groans again as she reluctantly stands up. Slowly and surely, she gets ready for the day, with much help from Karlie and her incessant complaining and encouragement to throw on the nearest shirt instead of standing in front of the mirror, contemplating each and every outfit she brought in her bag.
"You look fine, let's go," Karlie says impatiently, shifting her weight from one foot to another.
"Does this even match?"
"Does it matter?"
"Someone might see me," Taylor justifies, "but would I want them to see me in these pants is the real question."
Karlie groans. "Just put on the closest shirt to you, we're behind schedule. That's what I did."
Taylor swivels around at that, a smirk lighting up her face at the sight of Karlie's decision of a top. "That's my sweater."
"Hm?"
"The one you're wearing. It's mine."
Karlie glances down at her shirt– an off-white sweater with the word 'GENIUS' stitched in a thick dark blue font over the front– and giggles. "Huh. I knew it didn't look familiar."
"And you still put it on," Taylor smiles amusedly. She walks closer to examine it, running her finger across the hem lightly.
"I'm shocked it fits me, actually," she brings up.
"Surprisingly, it fits everyone."
Karlie raises an eyebrow in response. "Oh, so people have worn this other than me?"
"Yes, my 43-year-old Swedish record producer Max," Taylor responds teasingly, "no need to get jealous."
"Hey, I just grabbed the nearest thing to me. Take notes," Karlie counters, her voice sounding almost defensive.
"Ha," the singer rolls her eyes, "well then, I guess these pants will have to do."
Surprisingly, they actually do make it out of the door and reach the Big Sur Bakery by 8:45, and contrary to Karlie's beliefs, not a single person is inside except for the woman behind the counter. They quickly order their food and coffee– the "Big Sur experience" in Karlie's words– take a few pictures around the building, and begin another long drive off the coast.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taylor's eyebrows knit together as Karlie turns down an unfamiliar path, confusedly asking, "Um, where are we going?"
Karlie glances at her, hands gripping the steering wheel and lips curling into a mischievous smile. "Somewhere."
"Ah, that narrows it down."
She softly laughs. "It's a surprise."
"Should we maybe wait for tomorrow and find a hotel room? Look, it's already 8:43," Taylor says, pointing to the clock on the dashboard. "It's pitch black outside and I don't really want to get stuck out here in the woods and– where's our security?" She pokes her head over the car door, craning her neck left and right for the black SUV feverishly.
"I sent them to another cabin," Karlie replies, her hand moving from the wheel into Taylor's. "Relax."
Normally the model doing something like that would easily render Taylor speechless (like always). But finding out that the men who are supposed to be monitoring and protecting her from stalkers and paparazzi are somewhere in "another cabin" is a little too concerning to stay silent on.
"What? Another cabin?" she asks.
"Surprise!"
As if on cue, the headlights illuminate a small house with a deck and wooden planks seemingly plastered all over the walls. Karlie bursts out laughing again at the timing and stops the car.
Taylor squints her eyes, attempting to make out their surroundings. "What is this?"
"A cabin I rented for us. I thought it'd be kinda nice to stay in one of these for the last few days of the trip." She pauses, her smile seeming to waver. "If– if you want to, of course. I'd totally understand if you don't. I mean, it's a tiny little house miles away from any civilization, I don't think many people would want to spend their time holed up in this–"
"Are you serious? This is perfect!" Taylor exclaims.
"Honestly?"
"Yes, honestly!" She's already out of the car before Karlie can say anything more.
And it really is perfect. It's a cozy place, two floors with two beds (though knowing Karlie, they'll probably be using only one tonight), a kitchen tucked into the corner, a fireplace, and a ceiling so low that if the model had been wearing heels, she'd definitely bump her head.
"Thanks for the help," Karlie sarcastically says as she walks through the door, an assortment of bags hanging off her arms.
"Oops."
"Oops. Right." She drops them off by the door with an exaggerated huff, placing her hands on her hips. "Huh. This looks a lot tinier than it did on the website."
"Probably not made for two giants like us."
"It's nice though, don't you think?"
"Nice?" Taylor repeats, patting the wall. "This is a luxury."
Karlie smirks. "A luxury without reception or a TV."
"Still a luxury," she shrugs. "Kind of cold in here though. And look, there just so happens to be a fireplace and a mountain of wood conveniently placed next to it."
"You want me to build you a fire, is that what I'm hearing?" Karlie says as she crosses her arms.
"Maaaybe."
She sighs. "How old are you again? Twenty-four? Didn't someone ever teach you how to make a fire?"
"Kar, we both know I was not built for the outdoors."
"We're inside."
"Building fires automatically classifies as an outdoor activity."
"You're impossible." The model rolls her eyes, but still crouches down to light the flames. The fire roars to life quickly. Karlie switches on the radio next, tuning it to an acceptable station, and walks over to take a seat next to Taylor on the couch.
"This is such a cool place, you know. How did you even find something like this?" the singer asks.
"Well, you said at the afterparty that you wanted to find a nice little cottage on the coast," Karlie replies. "I mean, clearly we're not even near the coast right now, but it was the best I could do last-minute. And it's better than a random hotel room, right?"
"It's better than probably half of the property I own," Taylor agrees.
"Yes, because your mansion in LA is much more amazing than a tiny cabin in the woods with uneven floors and no WiFi."
"Well, my mansion in LA doesn't have Karlie Kloss sitting on its couch." There's a beat of silence, and Taylor wonders if maybe that was borderline not best friend-like.
"Taylor," Karlie begins, giggling uncontrollably, "oh my god, you are so cheesy."
The singer laughs. "We've established that, thanks."
"You're adorable. Oh my god. I'm so happy we came here."
Karlie pulls her into a hug, and Taylor savors the feeling of her slender arms wrapped around her neck. "Me too."
It's silent for a moment in the cabin. She listens to the fuzzy music of the radio, the scent of Karlie's shampoo wafting into her nose and her arm sliding down protectively around her waist. And despite the calming essence of everything, she can feel her pulse racing a hundred miles an hour.
Stupid Karlie Kloss and her stupid good looks.
"Ugh. This song is so overplayed," Karlie groans next to her. Taylor snaps out of her thoughts, hearing a familiar tune fill up the room and the sound of the ukulele strings vibrating off the thin walls.
"Overplayed?" she repeats incredulously. "I love this song!"
Without warning, she involuntarily jumps to her feet while dragging Karlie along with her. Taylor grips both of her hands with a huge grin as the model furrows her brows and asks, "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to dance. With you. Obviously."
Taylor begins to jump, swaying her shoulders along to the beat, very aware that she potentially looks like a baby giraffe learning how to walk. That's what she's been told she looks like anyway, but unfortunately it seems like a terribly accurate description.
Karlie giggles unsurely, watching the singer attempt to move to the music. "I mean, okay, but doesn't this only happen in movies?"
"Yep, pretty much. But I am a cheesy person, you know, so things like this actually occur very often."
Lady, running down to the riptide
Taken away to the dark side
I wanna be your left hand man
Karlie finally seems to acknowledge the music and she starts to jump along with her with a laugh that could easily make anyone fall to their knees. Taylor bites back a chuckle when the model nearly bangs her head on the ceiling.
"This is so fun!" she yells over the song.
Taylor pulls her closer and shouts, "I know, right?"
I love you when you're singing that song
And I got a lump in my throat
'Cause you're gonna sing the words wrong
Karlie lifts her arm as Taylor spins underneath, laughing when her shoe scuffs the uneven floor and she almost trips.
"Careful, don't hurt yourself," she smirks, throwing her arms around Taylor's neck in an attempt to steady her. The singer instinctively holds her closer, grinning against her shoulder.
"Karlie," she whispers despite the music surrounding them.
"Yeah?"
"Did you know that you're my favorite person to dance with?"
The model giggles again, tightening her hold of her frame. "Oh really?"
"Yeah, but, I don't know– that was just a random thought," Taylor rambles bashfully. She feels herself flush as the model takes a small step back and her green eyes meet hers. Her stare is tender, soft, warm, feeling like a heartfelt hug.
I just wanna, I just wanna know
If you're gonna, if you're gonna stay
"Well," Karlie says, voice barely louder than a murmur, "for the record, you're my favorite person to dance with too."
I just gotta, I just gotta know
I can't have it, I can't have it any other way
Then the model offers her a huge, beaming, fucking beautiful smile.
And whoa. Whoa.
That's the kind of smile that could make Taylor stop dead in her tracks. That's the kind of smile that could easily shine a hole straight through her thudding heart. That's the kind of smile that could possibly end world hunger given the chance. That's the kind of smile that makes Taylor forget every single thing she's ever known–
Except for the fact that she might sort of, kind of, maybe, possibly, just might be falling for the girl standing in front of her. And wow, she really hates it.
But, to be fair, Taylor hates a lot of things. She could make a 100-page long list if she tried. She already has about 10 different things drafted in her head.
Well, starting off, she hates cashews. Those are disgusting. She hates cold spaghetti. She hates dogs that don't have a sense of personal space. She hates when hair gets into her mouth while she's performing. She hates earwigs. God, they scare her to death. She hates when she's called a whore for dating a guy publically. She hates haunted houses, especially when she's forced to go through them alone. She hates spam calls. She hates cardio. And she definitely hates waking up and finding a puddle of cat puke beside her bed.
And, you might ask, what does she hate most?
Oh. That's easy.
Things she can't have.
"God. Okay. No," Taylor hears herself sputtering before she can stop herself. "I– I can't do this anymore."
Karlie's forehead creases as the singer backs up, looking everywhere but the radiating girl in front of her. "Taylor? Hey, where are you going?"
She's so bright it hurts. It really fucking hurts, and no, she's not being dramatic right now, Karlie could challenge the sun if she had the chance. She's positive, beaming, brilliant, vivid, the literal doorway to heaven. Taylor needs to get out of here. She needs to leave before she ends up melting through the crevices of the floor.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Karlie tries again, reaching over to shut off the radio. Silence falls over them like a thick layer of snow. Only Taylor's heavy breathing can be heard.
"A lot of things are wrong, Karlie. Stop pretending like they aren't."
The model winces as if she'd been slapped. "What? Where is this coming from?"
Taylor's skin feels too tight for her bones, her heart is too big for her chest. "We're supposed to be best friends," Taylor finds the courage to whisper. Should her voice be that shaky? Jesus.
What am I doing?
"Uh, we are," Karlie replies, narrowing her eyes confusingly. "We're best friends."
"But that's the thing, Karlie," Taylor breathes out. God. What the hell is she doing? "That's the whole problem!" She backs up until she slams into the wall, cursing under her breath at the contact.
The model steps forward at the sound of her friend's body hitting the cabin, but stops herself before she reaches out to her. "Taylor, what are you doing? I'm so confused."
"Don't you think I'm confused too?"
"Confused about what? What's going on?"
"Everything! Everything you do, it's just..." Taylor's capability to form words vanish, and she stands there open-mouthed, burning hot, letting Karlie stare at her in utter confusion.
"What are you trying to tell me? Is this your way of saying you don't like me or something?" The model shakes her head in disbelief, the joy in her forest eyes completely gone by now. "Is this your twisted way of saying you don't want to be best friends?"
Taylor pauses.
What are you doing?
"Yes." Her voice is barely audible. "I don't want to be best friends."
She opens her mouth to add context, but is cut off when Karlie hisses out a venomous laugh. "Um. Okay. Wow. That's nice to hear." She runs a hand through her hair, grimly chuckling to herself. The distress is prominent on her face and Taylor wishes she could just kiss it all away. "So, what, you want me to drive you home now? Or stuff your suitcase in the back of your goddamn security guard's van and stay in this cabin by myself?"
"No, I– Karlie, I don't want that," Taylor responds helplessly.
"Well, what do you want, Taylor? Because last time I checked, we were having an amazing time, and now you're telling me you don't want to be friends?" Karlie sharply demands. "Tell me what's wrong. Seriously. You can't just suddenly hate me."
"I don't hate you," she argues.
"Then why are you acting like this?"
"Because I–" Taylor abruptly cuts herself off, struggling for the right words. "It's complicated, alright? The whole world is watching me, Kar. I can't wear a pair of new earrings without Daily Mail writing an article about it. I can't hang out with a guy without Twitter deeming him my boyfriend. I can't release a song without a research team discovering which person it's about."
Karlie nods, clearly lost. "Uh, okay..."
"I have a lot of things. I mean, obviously, I'm super rich. And wow, that sounded super shallow, but it's true," she bitterly chuckles. "But I can't... I can't always get what I really want. And it's not fair. It really isn't fair."
Karlie scratches the back of her head and squints her eyes. "Um. Alright. What does this have to do with you not wanting to be friends?"
"It has everything to do with not wanting to be friends," Taylor sighs exasperatedly. She swallows down the persistent nervousness in the back of her throat, hopelessly attempting to stop the shaking of her hands. What are you doing? "I really... wow, this is so much more embarrassing than movies make it look like..."
She doesn't even register Karlie moving closer. "What are you trying to say?"
"Ugh. Okay. Here we go." Taylor inhales a long, shaky breath and locks her eyes with Karlie's. Half the words are stuck in her throat, but she wills herself to speak, not thinking about any of the consequences at all.
"We're best friends, right? Yeah, well, I don't really want that anymore. Not because I don't like you or anything– it's kind of the complete opposite of that. I really like you. Like, the romantic version." Taylor pauses, biting her lip. "And I'm not an idiot by the way, I know you feel the same. I mean, I don't really know for sure, but I'm 89% sure. Actually, 90% sure. I'm pretty confident about that part. So yeah."
The words tumble out of her mouth, freely and carelessly, and wow, it's like she can finally breathe once the last syllable leaves her lips.
"Um–"
"Sorry, can I just say a few more things? I didn't quite get it all into my dramatic speech," Taylor interrupts sheepishly, trying not to read Karlie's blank face. "Anyway, so, um, it's no secret that I sort of want to kiss you right now. And I really, really want to. But I'm not going to. Why? That's a complicated question, actually. But long story short, everything would be ruined. Every single relationship I've had since I've become a celebrity has fallen through because of me being a celebrity. It wouldn't be a normal relationship, and I– well, I just wouldn't want to risk losing you. It's not fair, but I'm not risking it. Hopefully that makes sense."
Her teeth move to chew at her lip again, Karlie's strange gaze making her fidget. What did you just do?
"Oh." That's all the model simply says. Her face is unreadable, her mouth in a straight line, her tone neutral and bland.
Okay. Not the ideal response after confessing your feelings.
"Sorry," Taylor immediately apologizes. "I, um, I didn't mean to dump that all on you. I just couldn't handle it anymore. Clearly."
"Yeah..." Karlie averts her gaze to the floor.
Okay. This is going super well.
"Is it... is it okay I said all of that?" Taylor asks. Her voice is unnaturally high-pitched, and she wants to shrivel at the sound.
The model shifts. "Uh..."
"Well, that was a dumb question," Taylor says to herself. "Obviously it's not okay. I mean, I just ruined everything while trying not to ruin everything. That's pretty hilarious. And ironic. How did I literally let myself tell you all of that? I'm so sorry. I know you wanted this trip to be great. And guess who messed it up again? Surprise surprise, it was me. Also, it looks like I'm rambling again. Which is great. Super great. Amazingly great. And–" There's a slight pause. "Wait. Are you... are you smiling at me?"
"Yes."
A small sound escapes Taylor's mouth as Karlie's arms surge to pin her to the wall, her eyes darker than she's ever seen them before.
"Karlie, what are you doing?" Taylor manages to demand, the feel of the model's fingers tightly gripping her arms almost making her lose the last bit of control she has left.
"Well, you said you wanted to kiss me. So..." Karlie giggles as she leans in, only for her chest to be reluctantly pushed back before she reaches Taylor's lips.
"Karlie," Taylor shakes her head, "you can't."
"What?"
She sighs, her breath still shaky. "Were you not listening to anything I've been saying?"
"I was, but..." Karlie's beaming smile slowly fades as she takes a short step backward, Taylor's hands falling from her chest. "Is this not what you want?"
"It's everything I want right now," she responds quietly. She forces her head to turn away so she can't see the dejected look in the model's eyes. "But we can't."
Karlie almost snorts. "Says who?"
"Says my whole life, Karlie!" the singer accidentally yells. She flinches and Taylor instantly lowers her voice. "It won't work. It never works, don't you understand?"
"You don't know that," the model mumbles.
"Yes, I do," Taylor replies sharply. "They always leave. They can't handle me, they can't handle the press, they can't handle the paparazzi, they can't handle the tabloids, it's all the same. I'm not putting you through that, Kar." Her stomach feels like ice. "I can't."
"Taylor." Karlie narrows her eyes. "I want this."
"You don't. Trust me, you don't."
"I do," she stubbornly argues, leaning in closer again. Her lips are tantalizing, and it's not fair. "I want this."
"Karlie," Taylor warns. The butterflies are practically exploding in her stomach as she feels the model's breath lace her lips. "Please don't do this to yourself. Please."
Karlie's grinning now, devilishly and brightly, so close that Taylor can hear the model's heart thumping wildly against her chest. "Taylor, listen to me," she murmurs, "I'm not going to leave. I'm not going to run away. I'm going to stay with you. I don't care if it's hard, I don't care if there's a man with a camera following me everywhere I go. I'm staying."
"I..." Taylor shakes her head. Karlie's overwhelming scent washes over her like a relentless wave. And it's not fair. It's so not fair. She whispers finally, "I can't make any promises."
Karlie intertwines their hands. "That's okay."
"You don't have to do this," Taylor says gently. Her eyes flick down their fingers, and she feels the familiar flush of heat rush into her face.
"But I want to." And then Karlie kisses her.
She kisses her like she's the most normal girl on earth, like the world wouldn't care that Taylor Swift is making out with a girl, like she knows they're going to make it, despite every person and every assumption and every camera and every article, she knows they'll make it.
And Taylor lets herself think, just for a moment, that maybe they will.
~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: but real life kaylor did not make it and i'll always be sad about it :( also how the heck does someone write a kissing scene??? fr i don't know how tension works but oh wellll i've already published this
but anyway, thank you so much for reading!!! i appreciate it so much. you can leave a vote or comment if you want❤️