Derek knew that Taylor was just drunk. She was probably just drunk and that was it. She'd talked about how she often came up with the best lyrics when she was drunk. He also knew that she probably wouldn't even remember it in the morning. She still had the after party to go to, and he really needed to focus. He couldn't afford to nearly slice his finger off again. She was just drunk and saying things she didn't mean. He didn't know why that stung a little, perhaps it was because he wished that she wasn't drunk. But that thought scared him. It was a petrifying thought - that he was feeling these things again. He hadn't felt like this since he'd... fallen into love with Melody all those years ago.
But Taylor said those things when she was drunk, they were drunk thoughts. They didn't count. He kept himself busy, forcing himself to stop thinking about it. She was Taylor Swift, and he was just... he was just a chef. He wasn't a global phenomenon, he wasn't winning awards like she was. Well, he was - but they were food related and still, not many people cared. Everyone cared about her, and he was just a nobody. Taylor wouldn't like a nobody. She was drunk and that's why she'd said all of those things, even though he wished that a part of her meant them. But it was good that she didn't mean them. Because he didn't actually know what he'd do if she'd been honest - she didn't know how to feel. How on earth would he cope? He'd been feeling so many firsts - things he hadn't felt in so many years and he just didn't know how he was supposed to react, let alone... feel. It felt wrong, feeling this way. Like he wanted Taylor to be feeling like that without the alcohol in her system. Like he wanted her to mean what she said.
Taylor woke up to the world tilting on its side. And just like that, she was back to reality. The alcohol was gone from her system, taken away by sleep. She rolled over, half expecting Ellie to be beside her, but then remembered that her daughter was back in Nashville with her parents. Taylor immediately went to bite her nails, worried about Ellie. Had she slept okay? What if she'd spent the whole night crying? Taylor was still away for another night - she had a session at the recording studio today for the new album. She was also going to be meeting up with Gracie - who was in the city for the week. It felt like she hadn't seen Gracie in years - she'd gotten so used to seeing her every week. They still texted daily, but still... it wasn't the same.
Turning on her phone - she was surprised that it was actually charging, given the state of her as she'd walked through the door - she smiled at her lock screen. It was a photo of the two of them, Taylor and Ellie. Ellie was up in the tree by the creek at the house, and Taylor was smiling up at her. Gracie had taken the photo on Ellie's birthday - and Taylor loved it. Loved the joy on Ellie's face, loved how it showed her personality. Her hair tied with a big ribbon, her Gracie T-shirt and shorts on. Taylor had been relying on coffee to keep her awake, but nothing could take away her excitement that Ellie was happy. She'd really come to love their Nashville home. Their life there. She'd never had anything like it - and she loved it. She loved it more and more every time she thought about it.
Derek lived in Nashville. Derek, she was sure, probably received many drunk snapchats from her last night. Taylor's heart skipped a beat, instantly worrying about what she might have said to him. There was a Snapchat waiting for her when she went into it - a photo of Derek's kitchen, telling her that he hoped she found some water.
Taylor winced, knowing that alone meant she'd come across as drunk to him. Which was not how she'd imagined she'd be - she barely knew him. Well, she did know him. And he did know her - he knew things that she'd not told anyone else. But she just hoped that she didn't say anything stupid.
I apologise for the drunk snapchats of me last night, she typed. I hope I didn't say anything stupid - I'm sorry you had to bear witness to that...
Taylor sent the photo, and sat up, leaving her phone on the bed. She needed a shower. She'd literally gotten to the hotel, stripped out of her outfit, taken off her shoes and climbed into bed. She couldn't remember what she'd said to Derek - and that was annoying her.
Derek was sitting in the car on the way to the supermarket when Taylor's text came through. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't the slightest bit disappointed about the fact that it was evident that Taylor truly didn't remember what she'd said last night. It was for the best - he didn't think he was ready to feel that way about someone just yet. It had been two years but it still felt like it was yesterday. Margot hadn't wanted to go to school this morning so that had been an effort. He'd stayed up last night talking to Taylor - everything had taken him so much longer because he had been busy talking to her. Mel had always been so great at encouraging Margot to go to school on the days where it was a bit of an effort - but Derek didn't have that special touch. It was nearing the end of the week and his daughter had been tired... but he'd needed today to do all of the things he had to do alone.
So here he was, getting up the energy to walk into the supermarket. He'd always had a dislike for the place, but seeing as it was something that Taylor never had the opportunity to do... he felt like he needed to appreciate it. Taylor didn't have the option to go out and do this. Grab a coffee from Starbucks on the way in, pull out a cart and head inside. Taylor didn't get to do that, and he'd found a new appreciation for the fact he could. Sure, he was pretty famous in the food industry - but the average person had no idea who he was. He'd only ever been asked if he was Derek Greene once in his whole career - and that had been right after he'd gotten his first Michelin star and there'd been a news headline in the paper.
Sending her a picture of the supermarket, he debated whether or not he admitted what she'd said to him in her drunken haze last night. Did he tell her? She couldn't remember what she'd said - but Derek also didn't want to have to spell it out because he didn't even know what to say.
Nothing you said was stupid, he started. Because that wasn't a lie. It wasn't - everything that Taylor had said had been valid. He certainly wouldn't call them stupid - but he also didn't want her to be embarrassed.
I'm just about to go grocery shopping, he decided that it'd be best if he changed the subject. Have you got much planned for your day?
He couldn't help but smile as he pressed send, even though the thought of it made him stressed. He did it anyway. There was something about her - he just didn't know what.
Ellie was having a picnic on the living room floor in front of the television. She'd brought down all of her soft toys and sat them up so they could watch Bluey with her. Her grandparents - which Taylor's Mom had been telling her she could call them all day and half of the morning - were sitting on the couch behind her. She'd loved getting to spend time with them - she missed seeing them on tour - but she was a little bit jealous that she wasn't getting to see Gracie. She knew her Mom needed to spend time with her friends on her own... but Ellie loved Gracie and it made her sad to think that the two grownups would be having fun without her. She'd see Gracie in a couple of weeks when they were going to New York to have the unveiling of Taylor's tour movie... but two weeks was a long time to a nine year old.
"Kiddo," her grandpa called from behind her. "What do you say we go for a walk?"
Ellie smiled. She didn't usually get to go for walks outside the house. That didn't bother her because the house had a loooot of property that her and Taylor could walk around... but sometimes she wondered if Taylor felt like she was missing out because she couldn't do things like that. She knew that Taylor liked going out and doing her grown up things, and she couldn't help but feel guilty that for the past nine months or so... she'd been stopping her from doing those things.
"Yes please!" She hopped up.
"What do you say we find some ice cream along the way too?" Her grandpa winked at her. Ellie giggled, already racing upstairs to put on her shoes.
She loved the life she had here so much. She didn't actually know how much she'd needed this life. Waking up and feeding the chickens, or Taylor helping her learn how to ride horses, or putting on dance performances in the barn. Playing in the creek, on her jungle gym. It was just... it was so unreal. Last night, she'd slept in her own bed. In her own room. She hadn't told her Mom yet because she wanted to tell her in person - but she'd done it! It had taken her hours to fall asleep, but she'd survived. And she hadn't even had a bad dream - she was so proud. She still thought about her birth Mom, still felt guilt in her tummy every single time she thought about her. Her father's words - the last words that she'd ever heard come out of his mouth.
Ellie pulled on her shoes - they were bright pink sneakers with butterflies in them and they lit up with every step she took. She liked that.
Ellie sat down on her bed, glancing out the window. She wished that she could hate her birth mother. She wished that she didn't care in the slightest that she was dead. But she was dead. And Ellie was only nine years old. She loved Taylor and she'd not change anything in the world... but she wished that her birth mother - that's Sarah hadn't died. Ellie tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to ground herself. She pulled Wendy into her chest - wishing that she could get her head to stop thinking about Sarah. She didn't want to be thinking about Sarah, she didn't want to be thinking about that. She was here and she was wearing pretty pink shoes and she'd cut her hair. She was here, in Nashville, and she couldn't be happier. Ellie smiled, before she stood up, taking a deep breath, and heading downstairs.
-
Derek was in the kitchen - his face sweaty after sorting out a table of thirteen people, his head filled with thoughts about Taylor.
"I wanna know what you think her saddest songs are though," he heard a group of girls laughing from one of the tables across from the kitchen.
"I mean, she's Taylor fucking Swift, like most of her songs make me cry." Another one of them admitted. Derek couldn't help but listen - did they know that Taylor had been in here at the weekend? Did they know she'd been sitting in a table across from them?
"Ronan and Soon You'll Get Better are the ones that I don't even add to my playlists of all her music, I just can't. I mean, they crush me every fucking time!" The girls must have been in their twenties - but they weren't regulars. Maybe they'd stopped in on a road trip.
"Oh, fuck. Soon You'll Get Better is so sad, I mean, she can't even sing it live... you can just hear the pain in her voice. Having a parent with cancer..." Derek heard the word and he tuned around. It still made him shiver, still sent his heart racing.
"I'm... I'm just going to take five minutes, okay?" He called out to his kitchen staff, needed some fresh air.
Sometimes he felt like he'd gotten over it. Sometimes he felt like he could move on.
But the moment he heard the word... the moment he felt the panic in his chest... he was taken back to that time.
Pulling out his phone, he couldn't help but want to know what Taylor had written about.
Soon You'll Get Better, from her Lover album. He'd heard a few of the songs in the radio to drop the kids off to school - but not this one.
He sat on the steps out the back of the restaurant, the hum of the old fashioned jazz playing in the background, and pressed play.
The moment he heard the guitar, he knew he was doomed. His eyes watered before he'd even heard a single world. It was gentle and soft, it was exactly the sort of... melody that he'd expected. Because it wasn't angry, it was sad and confusion and blue and it just... it was exactly what it felt
like. Defeat.
The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair,
In doctor's office lighting, I didn't tell you I was scared,
He'd been there every doctor's appointment. From the one where she was tested, the fucking awful wait after that first day, the one where they were told it was cancerous, the one where they'd told her that her hair would begin to fall out. Every fucking doctor's appointment. And he'd never once told her that he was scared. Scared that today would be the fucking day that she died, that he'd lose her for good. That he'd be a single father, that he'd be all alone raising two kids. Every day - especially towards the end, he'd woken up worrying about that. Until it had finally been the day.
And I say to you, ooh-ah soon you'll get better,
Derek wished that he didn't know what it felt like. The silent hope that maybe Melody would get better, that this was just a bad dream. That they'd wake up one day and Mel would be singing in the kitchen. Mel had forgotten all the words to Never Grow Up - and she'd lost the ability to speak...
You like the nicer nurses, you make the best of a bad deal,
Mel always said that the nicer nurses had been the ones in the night shift - the ones who gave her a straw with her water, the ones who told her their life stories. And she'd always put a positive spin on things, even the thing that was killing her. Even though sometimes... Derek would feel annoyed. He didn't feel like there ever was a positive spin... but now, he always found himself wishing he had someone to point out the good things. He struggled to see them himself.
I just pretend it isn't real,
Life had been full of pretending. Pretending so the kids didn't find out just how sick their Mom was. Pretending that it was going to be okay, that Mel would be okay. Pretending that Derek was okay, pretending that he was managing everything. Keeping the kids fed, helping Mel to the bathroom, taking her to Chemo and watching the life and spark being sucked from her... it was all pretend. But mostly, it had been a game of pretending it wasn't real. It would go away. It had to go away.
And I hate to make this all about me, but who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do? If there's no you,
Derek cursed himself for ever deciding to listen to this fucking song. How had Taylor managed to capture it all so perfectly? How had she managed to write it all down? He'd never been able to address his thoughts - his feelings about what happened. The way he felt guilty all of the time for wishing that life wasn't so heavy - when he wasn't the one with cancer. Feeling guilty for wondering what would happen to him... after. After. After she died. What would happen to him and his life. How he'd go to bed alone, he'd wake up alone. He'd do it all alone.
It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because, 'cause I have to, ooh-ah, you'll get better,
Derek hadn't heard someone spell it out like this before. Hadn't felt like someone had plucked out his mind and his heart and written a song from the messed up shit inside of them. He stood up, hearing Taylor's breath. Her shaky breath - the pain evident. She'd gone through it all with her Mom - and she'd managed to write a song about it. Derek hadn't even thought about processing it in such a way. He'd channeled it all into the restaurant, making sure he was one of the best chefs in the world. It's what he wanted - it was Melody's dream just as much as it was his. She'd been the one to watch him cook in their shitty University apartments, she'd been the one to tell him that he was good enough. She'd pushed him and pushed him, and now he was one of the best chefs in the world, he was the owner and head chef of a two Michelin star restaurant and he had somehow become friends with Taylor Swift.
Life was fucking weird.
He dialled Taylor's number. He needed to tell her what the song meant to him, even if it sounded weird.
"Hi," he could hear her smile as she answered.
"You're going to think that I'm really weird for doing this," he shook his head, debating whether or not he should be honest. Taylor just laughed.
"No I won't!"
"A group of girls were talking about one of your songs," he sounded stupid, and he wished he'd never even fucking said anything. "About Soon You'll Get Better." Taylor was quiet, he felt himself getting emotional. "I... I'm not good at talking about what happened to Mel, or how... how it made me feel. I'm not good at being honest about that time in my life, but somehow you just... I just... I wanted to thank you for writing it."
"I'm really sorry that you can relate to it," Taylor told him gently. "Even more so than me... I'm really sorry that you know what it feels like." He heard her take a deep, long breath. "It's one of the hardest songs I've ever written, and I'm not that good at talking about it either. I mean, I'm not good at talking about things that traumatise me to such an extent. Sorry, I'm just going on and on now."
"It's a lot to go through... seeing one of your favourite people in the world suffer and know that there's nothing you can do to take that pain away," Derek told her. "But... but also the pain of watching it happen, of being the healthy one, of being the one who is okay. It takes a lot to go through something like that and turn it into something so soft and... beautiful. You're..." Derek tried to find the word to describe her.
"You're just so... ineffable, Taylor." He shook his head. "Well, I'd better get back to the kitchen. I'll... I mean, uh-"
"You made it out the other side, Derek." Taylor told him, her voice soft but matter-of-fact. "That's what takes the real strength. Making it through in the first place. And you did it. You're in the aftermath of it now - it doesn't get easier, but we learn to live with it. And you're doing so great."