10 Days Later
October 1st; 2023
Joe Alwyn's Point of View
I don't know how she does it. It's extraordinary and something special. I've never met someone so cryptic yet compassionate. Her talent is unmatched and her ability to work the industry is astonishing. Today we're taking a break from the album and hanging out. We got into a whole argument about American football and regular football. It mostly consisted of me being confused about the existence of the sport and why it's not called handball. 20 minutes later she's buying us two tickets to see a game this weekend. I don't know much about the sport except a bunch of angry men tackle each other and try to score points.
For some reason, people get really into it. Taylor says she likes the Philadelphia Eagles so I think we're watching them play today.
"Hurry up, Alwyn!" Taylor yells at me from the outside of my apartment. How did she get in my building?
"I don't know what to wear! What do you wear to these things?!"
"Just wear what you usually wear! It's basic enough!"
"Are you trying to say I have no taste in fashion?" We continue to talk through my door.
"Yes!"
I roll my eyes and open the door for Taylor. "Sorry, I can't afford designer clothes."
Taylor marches in wearing something unexpected. "I'm not wearing designer clothes. It's sports, not some catwalk." She's wearing a tight skirt, platform ankle boots, and a basic shirt. All three items are black. A green track jacket with gray sleeves completes the look. There's a small logo on it that reads Jets.
"I thought you liked the Eagles."
"They aren't playing today. It's the New York Jets and the Kansas City Chiefs. Just where what you usually wear but try and wear some green. Otherwise, I'm going to buy you a jacket."
"Fine." I go into my bedroom and put together what I can, hoping to please Taylor. I walk back out wearing jeans and a dark green sweater.
"Perfect!" She smiles and claps her hands.
"Can we go now?"
"Yep!" Taylor grabs my hand and yanks me outside. I lock the door to my apartment and we start to leave.
"Okay, why are we rooting for this other team?" I ask her.
"Well we had to choose between the two so I chose the better of the two options...even if we are going to most likely lose."
"Can you give me a rundown of this sport?"
"For starters, there's a whole culture to it. People just lose their shit over it for some reason. Especially the Cowboys. For some reason, tons of people love the Cowboys even though they kinda suck but they will defend to their grave they are amazing. They aren't. The Chicago Bears have been the worst NFL team for way too long. They never win. Neither do the Denver Broncos. At least their fans are aware of how bad they are."
"Bears and Broncos suck. Cowboys think too highly of themselves. How does the game work though?"
"First, there's a coin toss which decides who plays offense and defensive first." Taylor goes on for what seems like forever on how the game works and it sends my brain into overload. I have an actual headache listening to this.
"Your football makes no sense."
She rolls her eyes and the chauffeur pulls up to the stadium. "I got us really good seats so act like you belong."
"How good of seats?"
"They cost about $20,000 each so be a normal human."
"And I'm normally not?"
"Just don't be British."
"I can't just stop being British!"
"What is that I hear? I think I just heard something."
"What? Is it a bird?"
"The sound of you becoming American." She smiles elated.
I give her a look that speaks to how done I am with her shit but she clearly doesn't care. When has she ever? I also think that's part of what makes her so spectacular. She doesn't let others' input affect her happiness. At least not anymore.
"I'll try and act like I belong but no promises. I'm used to rugby, the occasional cricket, and actual football."
"This is actual football!"
"You don't even use your foot!" The two of us banter but her face turns slightly red.
"Shut up!"
I laugh at her and follow her to her inside the stadium. When she said she got good seats I didn't think she meant this good. We're in a luxury club suite. There are flatscreen TVs, reclining chairs, catered food and drink, couches, for some reason a fireplace. The list just goes on of random unnecessary amenities that only the rich would have access to.
"Why would you pay so much for this? We could have gotten normal seats."
"I make millions a year from royalties. Why not?"
"Fair enough." The two of us walk to our seats and sit down.
Taylor gets ignorant stares from people surrounding us. The judgment that follows her from every corner of the world. I can see why she never leaves her home. She's always recognized and reminded of her past. It's like no matter where she walks, people whisper, and eyes are watching. She's hated.
"I'm going to go to the bathroom." Her voice is cracking. She's hurt. There are tears in her eyes and she's hiding behind her jacket. She stands up but I grab her hand.
"No, don't let them win. I'm here for you."
She nods and sits back down. She takes a deep breath and we watch the game start. The game started well. We were having a lot of fun and I think it got her mind off everything. I loved seeing her smile. She has the best smile. The type of smile that shines and makes you happy just from seeing it. There have been many days where all I wanted to do was make her grin like a Cheshire cat because I knew it would change the liveliness of the room.
"What happened?" I ask pointing at the field.
"The Jets called a time-out." She explains to me.
"Ohhhh."
Out of nowhere, the jumbotron shows Taylor, and below it reads TAYLOR SWIFT 10-TIME GRAMMY AWARD WINNER.
Taylor stands up and grins while waving her hands. She's so ecstatic and it makes me so content to see her like this. But the unexpected happened. What I feared would happen. The crowd starts to boo her. The light fades from her eyes and I swear for a moment I saw her irises glaze over and become glassy like she had died. This was something she couldn't recover from. She ran as fast as she could into the bathroom. I run after her but Taylor locks the door before I can catch up to her. I can hear her crying and my heart shatters.
I knocked on the door a couple of times, trying to grab her attention. "Taylor, let me in."
"No. Leave me alone." She pleads.
"I promised I would be here for you. I have no intention of breaking that promise."
"Everyone hates me!"
"I don't hate you." I put my hand on the door, speaking softly. There's silence and I hear the door unlock. I open it and lock the door behind me. I look in the bathroom and see a mess. Taylor emptied her entire purse and everything was scattered across the floor. She's leaning against the wall looking down at the tile flooring. "What happened?"
Taylor isn't crying. She's emotionless, staring with no purpose. "I was trying to find oxy. I was hoping I still had some on me somewhere."
"Why would you do that? You've been clean for so long?"
"I knew it would make me feel better." She sighs and starts to put everything back in her purse.
"Would it?"
Taylor grabs her compact mirror from a couple of feet away but it opens up. Two white dusty pills fall on the floor and the tension in the room becomes so thick you could cut it with a knife. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help. All I do is pray to God that she doesn't touch them. My prayers aren't enough though because she reaches out and grabs them. She studies the pills, fighting for her life. But this isn't my battle to fight. It's hers. I back off and let her decide.
"Are you going to stop me?" She asks looking at me with despair.
"No, it's your choice. I'm not going to get in the way."
Taylor stares at the pills for over half an hour before breaking down. Her hand begins to shake and she hands the pills to me. "I can't do it. I can't lose anyone else."
"I'll never leave you." I stuff the pills away and let her cry into my shoulder. I was able to understand it once she started to sob. She's exasperated with herself and tired of living. She would give up sobriety in a heartbeat if it didn't keep sabotaging relationships. "Taylor?"
"Mhm?"
"I hate how you talk to yourself."
"I'm not a good person. I know it. All 80,000 people in the stands know it."
"80,000 people go to these things?" I comment which makes her laugh.
"I told you...we like football." She starts to calm down but continues to lay her head against me.
A small chuckle escapes and I wrap my arm around her. "What if I stay at your place tonight and we can eat junk food and the cats can have a play date?"
"Are you recommending a sleepover, Alwyn?"
"I guess I am." I become embarrassed immediately as sleepovers aren't our thing.
"Okay. I'd like that. Can we just sit here a bit longer? I'm too embarrassed to go outside."
"Sure." I hug her extra tight and give her a small kiss on the top of the head.
• • •
The prejudgement continued until the game ended. She was fighting today and I was proud of her for surviving. Our team lost 20-23 but that was the least on our mind. I had a good time with her. On our way out we get stopped by a couple of people wearing merchandise for the other team. They have VIP badges and a golf cart.
"Miss Swift?" One of them says.
"Uh...yeah?" Taylor is extremely awkward, not knowing how to respond.
"We are a part of Travis Kelce's management."
"Who?" Taylor says.
"Travis Kelce is the tight end for the Kansas City Chiefs. You just caught his eye tonight and he'd love to meet you."
"Eh, why not? As long as I can bring my friend."
The manager nods and the two of us get on the golf cart. We drive off to the other side of the stadium and through some tunnels and security. The two of us are dropped off and led down a hallway. I'm tall and built reasonably well but this guy is a whole different level. He makes Taylor look short and she's close to six feet tall. This is the type of guy who could break someone's bone in half by looking at it. He's intimidating, to say the least.
Taylor walks up to him with grace. Her iconic regal bearing with the sex appeal of splashed red wine. She knows how hot she is. I don't know how she's using it to her advantage right now but I'm interested to find out.
"You're so much more beautiful than I ever thought but I think you'd look much better in a Chief's jacket," Travis tells her.
Oh, what a line. I roll my eyes hearing him.
Taylor giggles, instantly falling for it. "Well, you could always change my mind. I was never set on the Jets anyway."
"It would match your lipstick well."
She laughs again. "You're not very good at this are you?"
"I'm not known for my flirting skills."
The conversation begins to annoy me, taking up my time. I'm just sitting in the background as a third wheel.
"Why did you want to meet me? No one ever wants to meet me." Taylor asks Travis.
"I saw you on the Jumbotron. You ran away and I felt awful for you. My teammates were booing you. I wanted to say I'm sorry. This stadium holds 82,000 people and it sounded like every single person was booing. You should know, I wasn't one of the people who did that to you."
Such bullshit. Taylor knows better than to fall for this crap. The vulnerability she was going through. The overwhelming hopelessness. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you."
"It's nothing."
Taylor lets go of him and takes a couple of steps back. "I'm clean. Tomorrow will be six weeks."
"Really?"
"I also know you're hitting on me. You seem like an amazing guy but I'm not in that place. I'd love to be friends with you."
"Friends it is." The two of them hug and exchange numbers. I continue to third wheel, waiting for them to finish their conversation.
"Well, I need to get going. My friend is probably getting annoyed."
You would be correct.
"Sounds good. It was nice to meet you, Taylor."
"You too, Travis."
They both hug before Taylor and I walk back down the hallway to the golf cart. We are taken to the exit and we get into her car. Her chauffeur starts to drive and I finally let it out.
"So, are you going to text him?"
"Yeah. He's really nice." Taylor pulls out her phone giving me a side eye.
"I think you should leave him alone. He seems like bad news to me."
"Joe, it's fine."
"I just think he's trying to get into your pants."
Taylor instantly furrows her eyebrows. "We are just friends. What's up with you?"
"I just want to make sure you're okay."
"Oh my god." Taylor throws her head back and starts to laugh.
"Why are you laughing?" I question.
She points at me still giggling. "You're jealous!"
"I'm not jealous!"
"Okay, you're envious."
"No!"
"Covetous?" She continues to laugh and it pisses me off.
"I'm not jealous!" I yell.
"You're so jealous! Your face is red!"
"I'm not jealous!"
"I'm glad I'm the type of girl who can make you jealous." She smiles and puts her hand on mine.
"I'm glad I'm the type of guy who can make you blush."
We look at each other and I get lost in her electric blue eyes. God, her eyes are beautiful. She's amazing, astonishing, a gift from God. I just wish she could see it.
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Author's Note:
I'm having a friendship bracelet-making party tomorrow! I'll have to update you on how it goes!
I decided to add Travis for a bit but Joe being jealous 😂
1989 TV soon!!! Which song are you most excited to hear that's not a vault track? I'm so excited for ootw and iwyw.
Green-Eyed Monster: Jealous, envious.