"I'll come visit next time I'm in the city," Grace hugged Michael tightly as they said goodbye. She'd taken him to the rehabilitation centre and wrote them a cheque for the first three months, they were about to part ways for a while, "And don't worry about Amber and Gracie, I'll make sure they're fine, I promise. You focus on getting yourself together."
"Thanks, Grace," he offered her a bittersweet smile, "Can you tell Amber that I'm sorry?"
"You'll tell her yourself," Grace replied, "Oh, hey, I need a favour."
"What?" He wasn't expecting that.
He watched as she reached into her purse and dug through a zippered pocket, sorting through it for a moment until she presented him with a twenty-four hour chip, "Could you hold onto this for me? It's really- gosh, it's just weighing my bag down so much."
The smile on her face spread to him as he nodded, "I'll have my own when you come see me. I'll give it back."
"I have no doubt," Grace ruffled his hair in the annoying sibling manner and then said, "Be good! Be kind to the staff, make good choices. Have water!"
"Bye," he chuckled, clutching his hand around the newcomer chip like it was his most important possession.
Grace walked through the automatic sliding doors and took a breath, finally letting her shoulders fall. She looked at her watch, a very nice watch that Taylor had given her for her birthday that was made the year Grace was born, and realized that if she hurried she could probably make it to the show before the openers went on.
Grace Kent was a lot of things. She was incredibly book smart, she could make a decent bowl of spaghetti bolognese and she was able to know a lot about someone just by a simple first impression, but she was not cruel.
And she thought it would be cruel to miss a second show when she didn't have to. She could still be there, she could still make sure Taylor had food in her dressing room afterwards, fighting or not.
Taylor did pay her for that, after all.
She asked the driver to take her to East Rutherford and swallowed her pride as she walked towards the staff entrance without her VIP pass, "I'm with Thirteen Management."
"Sorry, no one gets in without a physically present security pass."
"I'll make a call," Grace sighed. She unlocked her phone and dialled the only person she knew wouldn't make a fuss about having to come get her inside because he could take his Segway, "Hi, Scott. I'm at door— three in the back and I don't have my pass. Would you be able to send someone to come get me if you're busy?"
"Oh good, you're here! Yep, I'll be right there, hold tight," Taylor's father was quick to meet her there and push the door open from the inside, "This is the only other person who gets a Segway at these things, let her in!"
Grace didn't actually get a Segway but one time time, Taylor put a bike helmet on her and Scott let her try it. Once was enough, she thought she was going to vomit from how wobbly it felt.
The man pursed his lips nervously, "Have a nice night."
"You as well," Grace nodded at him and stepped inside, "Thank you for letting me in."
"I'm surprised you didn't call Taylor."
"She might've left me out there today."
"Besides that," he started to dig into his pockets, "Here you go! A nice gloss finish, eh? They're a little sturdier, I think the fans will love them!"
"Oh they are great," Grace smiled, "Thank you for getting these. I look forward to giving them out."
"You know it," Scott pushed his Segway towards his security guard with a little nudge, asking him to take it back as he walked with Grace, "So, what's going on with you two today? Taylor's been keeping to herself but she's sad, you know?"
"My sister-in-law kicked my brother out last night, the one who lives a few hours north of us. He uh- well, I just checked him into a rehab for an opioid addiction and Taylor was very upset that I brought him home last night without talking to her first."
"I see," Scott nodded softly, "Is he doing okay?"
"I think he'll be okay eventually," Grace shrugged, she wasn't sure yet, "I'm going to stay back, I don't want to put her in a bad mood before she heads onstage."
"She's already in a bad mood," he pointed out.
"Ah, no, she's not yet," Grace knew it could only get worse, "I'll see you in the tent. Thank you for letting me in."
Grace took a generic VIP pass from one of Taylor's assistants and realized that she didn't have her printout, it was with her tour outfits that currently were crumpled into a ball on the floor of the guest room bathroom.
It was okay, that night she wasn't feeling particularly anything at all and she wasn't sure Taylor would appreciate it.
In her dressing room, Taylor was doing her vocal warm ups and pacing back and forth. She tried to find her phone, she'd set it down somewhere and said, "Grace, have you—"
She had forgotten that Grace wasn't there and it hurt so much.
Grace took a seat in the second row of chairs that night. Fans waved at her as they waited for the show and she was sure to wave back, occasionally she called them over and gave them some guitar picks. She hadn't been on Twitter (yet) to see the mass panic and breakup rumours that stemmed from her missing the show the night before.
"Can you give this to Taylor?" One fan asked Grace as she presented an envelope, "It's just a letter!"
Grace smiled and nodded, "Yes, I'll make sure she reads it."
"Thank you!" The fan took the guitar pick and then proceeded to freak out with her friends after security ushered them away.
It wasn't long before the introduction started to play. Grace went back to her seat and settled into the chair, she rested her elbow on the armrest and her head on the palm of that hand. She knew the introduction by heart, resisting the urge to mouth the words like she did sometimes because it was fun.
Taylor came out and started to sing Ready For It...? but it took her until after the second song to glance at the tent by mistake and see a shadowy figure in the back that mysteriously looked a lot like Grace. She did a double take and then her cheeks split into a grin as she waved excitedly.
Whatever, they were arguing, Grace still showed up in the end. That was what mattered to Taylor most.
Throughout the show, Taylor would discreetly check to make sure Grace was still there. It was hard to push all the personal stuff behind when she had to keep professional, especially when she saw the chair empty partway through the show.
Grace had walked backstage to call Amber. She was enjoying the show, she always did, but she also really wanted to have a drink and needed to fill Amber in on what was happening with Michael now that it was past Gracie's bedtime.
Amber answered after a few rings and said, "He's not coming back here like that."
"Hello," Grace was surprised by the unusual lack of hospitality. Amber must have really been at the end of her rope, "I checked him into a private rehabilitation facility this afternoon. He's going to be in there at least three months, I wanted to let you know."
"Oh," Amber was surprised by that, "Grace, I don't think we can afford that kind of place. I was looking into a program that would have a spot open in a couple months, maybe."
"I took care of it and I will continue to take care of it should he need to be in there longer," Grace said confidently, she had no problem with it, "You could have said something. We talk every single day."
"You've got too much going on to be worrying about what's happening here," Amber admitted with tears in her eyes, "He only got real bad during this last month, I thought I could get it under control."
"He's going to get it under control now," Grace said. She could hear the emotion in Amber's voice and almost felt her own walls break down, "Should I come stay with you for a little while? I can help with Gracie and the farm, help you get things turned around."
"I think that would be very helpful but aren't you leaving for Massachusetts in a few days?"
"Taylor and I are working through something and some space would probably be good," Grace chuckled drily, "I slept in the guest room last night."
"I hope it's not 'cause of Michael."
"It's totally because of Michael," Grace said honestly, "I'll see you tomorrow sometime then, I believe. Do you want me to bring anything?"
"Just some boots, Mike's behind on the horse shit shovelling."
"That asshole."
Grace spoke to Amber for a few more minutes, giving her the details of the rehab and checking in on things before she went to make sure Taylor's dressing room had water in it and sent someone for her after show meal. She hoped chicken tenders and fries would be okay, it was one of Taylor's favourite comfort foods.
When Taylor got off stage, Grace wasn't in the hallway outside of the dressing room where they had become accustomed to meeting so she sighed and walked into the room after giving her mother a hug. She opened the door and Grace was putting salad dressing on a salad, startled when she realized Taylor was there.
The look on her face told Taylor that not all had been forgotten or forgiven, "Hey."
"Hello."
"You came," Taylor shut the door behind her, "I didn't think you'd be here."
"I checked Michael into rehab and had adequate time to come," Grace hummed, "This is hot and you just have to stir this, I figured you would be hungry."
"I'm starving, thank you," the singer nodded, "You checked him into rehab?"
"Yeah," Grace was already exhausted by the conversation, pushing her walls back up, "I'm going to go stay with Amber for a few days."
"A few days?" Taylor stood idly by the door, "Are you coming to next city?"
"No," the brunette shook her head, "I'll see you after the Canadian shows, okay?"
Taylor's mouth fell ajar as she looked down at the food. That wasn't a few days, that was like two weeks. Grace was gathering her things to head out but Taylor started to cry, "Grace, don't go. Please."
The former heiress froze as she heard the crying. Her eyes shifted up and she felt the overwhelming urge to wrap Taylor in her arms and not let her go. Taylor had snapped, sobbing as she sat down on the couch and didn't fight the emotion.
"I'm sorry! I- fuck, I didn't mean to hurt you. I got in my head about some stuff and I took it out on you when all you were doing was trying to help 'cause you have such a big heart. I was mad at you like you brought those pills into the house and I was scared that you were going to take them and I'm just so sorry that I've hurt you and didn't support you when you needed me," Taylor managed to get the words out quickly between sobs.
She couldn't watch Grace walk out that door and not see each other for weeks. Not when they had been attached at the hip for months, not when she didn't want to lose what they had.
"I got mad at you when you were just trying to do the same thing I probably would've done and I didn't mean to be so cruel and I'm just so sorry, Grace," Taylor put her head in her hands as Grace stood with her purse by the door.
Grace walked across the room back towards the food and picked up a the takeout box with the chicken tenders in it, leaving her bag on the table. She picked up one of the pieces and took a seat next to Taylor, holding it up to her mouth.
"Grace," Taylor pushed it away with furrowed eyebrows.
"Comfort food," Grace whispered, "I'm mad at you but I love you and you'll feel better if you eat."
Taylor took the chicken finger and sighed, taking a bite as she wiped her eyes with the back of her other hand. Her hair was wet around her face from the rain during the show so she was sure she would need to do some major clean up before the meet and greet anyway, "This is really good."
"I'm glad," Grace slipped her arm around Taylor's backside and ran her palm up and down her girlfriend's back, "Don't worry about this right now, we'll talk at home. Have some of your food and take a shower, you smell."
"Thanks," Taylor chuckled with only slight offence taken by the comment, "Want a bite?"
"No," Grace smiled weakly, "That's all you."
"There's more, have one."
"Darling, I'm too stressed out to be hungry," she admitted, "You eat it."
Grace kept rubbing her back until Taylor finished eating and went for the side salad. She saw the letter on the table next to it and said, "What's this? Break up letter?"
"No, I'd never leave you via letter. It's from a fan," Grace rolled her eyes.
"Did you get some of those guitar picks from my dad? He was so excited to show you," Grace reached into the pocket of her jean jacket and placed a fistful of them on the coffee table wordlessly. Taylor started to laugh softly at how many she had, stabbing into her salad as she added, "Even when you're mad at me, huh?"
"You do pay me for this."
"I pay you to look at numbers and graphs, not to make sure I have dinner and hand out stuff to fans."
"That's the premium package."
"The premium package should definitely not go to Amber's for two weeks."
"Tay..." Grace trailed off, "It's my family."
"I'm your family, too."