A/N: WOW. 1.9K READS!!!! thank you :D
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🌃One look, dark room 🌃
"Joan? Hi, yes, this is Karlie Kloss. Sorry to bother you... okay, yeah, I just wanted to talk to your boss for a second– alright, can you leave her a note then? Tell her that I won't be able to make it for the shoot on the eleventh. I was hoping to reschedule, if that's okay. Something really important came up that I have to do... yeah, okay. Thank you so much." She hangs up, letting out a long breath of relief. Now she can cross one thing off of her to-do list.
Next up, buy a plane ticket for Melbourne, Australia.
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10 days.
It's been 10 days since Taylor's spoken to her.
10 long-lasting days.
Probably the dullest 10 days she's ever experienced in her life.
She hasn't picked up the phone, but neither has Karlie since that one night. No 'hello,' no 'goodnight.' She didn't even text to congratulate Taylor on her Grammy nominations.
Are they even friends anymore? Should she delete her contact? Or does that seem too petty? Ugh, so many unanswered questions. Usually whenever she'd get into an argument with her friends, they would be the first one to call back. (Taylor admits she can be stubborn.)
But Karlie seems to be even more stubborn.
At least the concerts distracted her from whatever was going on with the model. Oceania still proves to be an amazing place with people that are too nice for their own good.
Tree had informed her over the phone that her first public "date" with Harry is scheduled for the 18th of December somewhere in LA. She suggested that Taylor should call him and catch up before meeting in public, but in all honesty she'd much rather jump off a bridge than listen to Harry's strangely-slow talking.
For now, she's focused on finishing up her sandwich in between rehearsals. The Melbourne show on the 14th is going to be the biggest of the entire Oceania leg of the Red Tour, she has to make sure everything is perfect, especially the choreography she momentarily forgets in the second half.
Taylor gulps down the last bit of the sandwich when Andrea enters the dressing room with her typically-glowing smile.
"How are rehearsals going today?" she asks, sliding into the chair across from her daughter.
Taylor shrugs and dusts off her hands. "Good, I guess. There's this one part in 'Love Story' I keep messing up on. I was running to the left when I had to go right, then I tripped on the dress during the twirl... and yeah, actually not good," she chuckles, shaking her head.
"Yikes," her mom says, "but anyway, I just came in to ask what the plans are for your birthday tomorrow. I didn't know if you wanted reservations for a restaurant, or maybe we could rent out a theme park or something."
Taylor laughs softly. "Yeah, I don't think that's possible."
"Well, you better think of something, sweetheart. Twenty-four is very important. I don't want you to spend your birthday locked in your hotel room writing breakup songs."
"Honestly, that doesn't sound like a bad birthday at all," she starts with a grin, "but Ella's going to be in Melbourne on the thirteenth, so we'll just hang out at her place during the day. I'll invite the band and the dancers too, we can throw some sort of party there."
"So no restaurant reservation?"
"No restaurant reservation."
Andrea sighs dramatically and stands up from her chair. "Alright then. I heard there were some pretty delicious places in Australia, but it's your call." Heading towards the door, she abruptly pauses and turns around with a new idea. "Oh, you know what we should do? Let's throw a really big party when we get back to LA. You can invite all your friends and we could rent out a fancy restaurant or something."
"Yeah, maybe," she says, though a party like that is just begging the media for some awful headlines. Superstar Taylor Swift throws a huge birthday party surrounded by celebrities. What's the reason she needs to show off her A-lister status?
"Is there a piece of paper in here? I have to write this down," Andrea mumbles to herself, looking through the cluttered shelves of the small dressing room.
Taylor sighs and ignores her mom's fretting for a moment, checking her phone for the 22nd time that day. No missed calls, no texts.
It's like Karlie has completely forgotten she exists.
"Are you okay?" Andrea questions after successfully locating a Post-It and a ballpoint pen.
Taylor glances up from her phone and smiles weakly. "Just great."
"You were looking a bit sad just a second ago."
"Yeah, well..." She trails off, avoiding her mom's curious stare.
"Well, what? Did something happen?" Andrea returns to her chair and folds her hands together eagerly, awaiting a response.
Taylor awkwardly laughs, not particularly wanting to talk about her fight with Karlie. "Do you realize how much you look like my therapist at this moment?"
"Don't change the subject, Taylor," she says stubbornly.
The singer sighs and shifts uncomfortably in her seat. Knowing her mom won't leave her alone if she doesn't share, she swallows through the lump in her throat and begins to talk.
"Okay, um, the night when we landed, I FaceTimed my friend and–"
"Which friend?" Andrea inquires.
"Karlie."
"Oh, okay. Go on."
"Right," Taylor mumbles, "well, we talked a bit, and it was nice at first. But then I told her I have to start using Harry as my PR boyfriend and suddenly she got really mad. Like, really mad. Practically furious. She was throwing insults at me like... tiny little fireballs."
"Interesting way to put it," Andrea nods, "but that's kind of weird."
"Exactly!" Taylor exclaims, glad her mom agrees with her. "I don't think I did anything to provoke her, she just kind of blew up on me. It was strange."
"She probably just didn't like the prospect of you fake-dating a guy," Andrea concludes.
"I guess so, but I don't know why. It's not her life, it's mine. Why should she care about what I do for my career?"
"Good question. You should ask her that."
Taylor laughs, subconsciously glimpsing at her cell phone. "I don't think we'll be talking for a long time."
"What?" Andrea confusedly asks.
"Well, Karlie said something along the lines of 'why are you using an innocent guy to be your boy toy,' and then I just kind of lost it. So I hung up, and she hasn't talked to me since."
"Ah," her mom observes, "that's not very nice of her."
"She hasn't texted me or called me at all for ten days! Plus, she tried to apologize right before I hung up, so Karlie knows she's wrong, but she hasn't made any move to reach out," Taylor explains hotly. "Look, I don't even know anymore. She confuses me a lot."
Andrea hums in response. "I guess that means she won't be invited to your amazing twenty-fourth birthday party?
Taylor sighs, resting her head on her hand. "Honestly, the only birthday gift I want right now is for her to just apologize. Then I could start off twenty-four being happy."
Andrea reaches across the table and gives her daughter's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sure she'll come around. You two have been inseparable, it'd be a shame to see her throw it all away."
"Yeah, it would be," she mutters dejectedly. But at this rate, it seems like everything they had is being tossed in the trash.
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The intense morning light wakes Taylor up around 7:00 A.M., a perfect start to her birthday. No matter how many times she tries to fall back asleep, a nearby siren or car horn ends up piercing the air.
She forces herself to slither out of the stiff hotel bed into the bathroom and reluctantly ready herself for the day. She's picked out her whole outfit, makeup look, hairstyle, practically everything because it doesn't hurt to be prepared for your birthday.
The morning takes a positive turn when Taylor exits the bedroom and discovers her hotel room suddenly looks like a six-year-old's birthday party. Yellow and pink streamers are draped over the cabinets and walls, a bright blue banner hangs over the door frame spelling out "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TAYLOR!!!", and a clump of confetti is sitting on the floor.
Just then, the door quietly opens and her mom shuffles inside, walking backward while balancing 3 enormous presents in her hands. She almost does a flip when she finally notices Taylor staring at her inquiringly.
"Oh! I didn't know you were already awake," Andrea laughs, gently setting the gifts down on the countertop.
"Yeah, I got up early," she starts, grinning widely, "Are you decorating my hotel room?"
"Well of course, it's your twenty-fourth birthday!" her mom exclaims. "Obviously, it's not quite finished, but I just wanted to add some excitement in here."
Taylor quickly wraps Andrea in a grateful hug. "Thanks, Mom. It looks great– well, other than the glob of confetti in front of the TV."
"Sorry about that. I was meaning to rent a confetti cannon but apparently they don't give them out on such short notice." She jokingly rolls her eyes, separating from her daughter. "Anyway, what time are you heading to Ella's?"
"Around eleven, and I'll be back by probably five."
"Okay, that gives me lots of time for decorating and finding a decent cake around here."
"You really don't have to pick up a cake, I'm sure there will be enough at Ella's," Taylor says. The thought of eating 2 cakes in one day sounds incredibly risky, mainly because her mom always has to buy the biggest and sugariest of desserts and she needs to be able to fit into all of her costumes tomorrow.
"Nonsense, you and I deserve a small party," Andrea waves her off with the flick of her hand, "Have fun at Ella's later. I'll just finish up decorating in here. Oh, and don't forget to call your father and Austin. I know they wanted to talk to you."
Taylor nods, and continues to get ready for her 24th birthday. She arrives at Ella's place not long after and they play an assortment of stupid party games, devour extraordinarily unhealthy cake, and take tons of pictures that could fill up a whole scrapbook.
Ella had done a beautiful job with the party. Honestly, Taylor couldn't ask for anything more. The food was delicious, all the guests were so sweet, and she now has a collection of Target gift cards because apparently no one had a clue of what presents to purchase for her– not that she's complaining, Taylor in fact desperately needs to make a Target run when she gets back to Nashville. But still, the party had been undeniably perfect.
Well, almost perfect.
The singer can't fill the empty feeling in her stomach after returning to her hotel room, which is slightly concerning considering she ate about 4 slices of red velvet cake. The gloomy presence settled in the air combined with Australia's pitch-black darkness shining through the windows makes the room feel like a haunted house, something Taylor unquestionably hates.
Lovely.
Andrea had told her she'd be arriving around 6 or 7, so Taylor should have about an hour of free time. She really should be working on a song for the next album or answering emails from her management, but she opts to shrug on a thick coat because not only is the room ghastly, it's also freezing cold. So much for central heating.
Taylor buries herself on the couch, instantly opening up her phone to find– you guessed it– 0 messages. She lost count of how many times she's checked her notifications today.
I shouldn't be obsessed with her, she chastises herself, reaching to the coffee table beside her for the remote. A TV show hopefully would distract herself from all the dramatic thoughts in her mind and help pass the time.
"Of course nothing good is on," Taylor mumbles to no one in particular, repeatedly pressing the remote buttons and wrinkling her nose at the current television shows playing.
A light knock on the door interrupts the singer's channel surfing. Wondering why her mom is arriving 45 minutes early without any warnings, Taylor slowly trudges to the door, holding her coat closer for extra warmth. She already starts talking while slowly turning the knob and pulling the door open.
"Hey Mom, it's freezing in here so do you mind giving me a second to change into some warmer clothes before we start– oh."
Taylor blinks twice, slackjawed at the lanky girl that's shyly standing in front of her, wringing her hands together nervously and looking like she's going to bolt off at any second.
"Hi," Karlie breathes out with a rueful smile.
"Hi," Taylor manages, swallowing her sandpaper-dry throat.
Is this real? She isn't hallucinating, right?
What if Ella snuck in some sort of drug in the cake? What if she's completely dehydrated and her brain is creating illusions? What if it's secretly her mom wearing a realistic rubber mask as a prank? Some creep is definitely selling a Karlie Kloss mask on eBay.
A million different thoughts are swirling around in Taylor's head so hard it's making her dizzy, too chaotic to sort. The only thing she can seem to pick out is: Did Karlie somehow get prettier over the course of 10 days?
The model in front of her shifts uncomfortably and finally says, "Happy birthday," breaking the thick silence in the air.
"You're in Australia," Taylor thinks out loud, ignoring Karlie's comment. "Wow. Okay. You're in Australia right now. This is kind of crazy."
"I would've gotten here sooner but my flight was delayed for a few hours and my manager was all stressed out because I canceled a shoot without telling her, and of course there were literally zero cabs when I landed–"
Taylor cuts off Karlie's rambling, asking, "Wanna come in?"
The model stares at her, clearly not expecting an invitation. "Uh, yeah. Thank you." Taylor widens the door, softly closing it once Karlie shuffles into the room.
If she doesn't apologize in the next 30 seconds I will personally escort her to the nearest airport.
"So," Taylor starts uneasily, "what are you doing all the way in Melbourne?"
"Oh, you know, just doing a little bit of sightseeing," Karlie answers breezily, slipping her hands into her jean pockets.
"Are you being serious?" she accidentally blurts out, unintentionally raising her voice, which makes both of the girls flinch.
"I– no, it was a joke."
"Oh."
They both fall silent, looking anywhere but each other's faces. Did Karlie really just waltz into her hotel room to crack a few jokes then force them to stand in probably what is the most awkward silence Taylor's ever experienced? What a thoughtful birthday gift.
Taylor opens her mouth to say something, anything to rid this awful quietness, but Karlie beats her to it.
"Taylor, I'm so so so so so so sorry, honestly. I can't believe I said that, really, I have no idea what got into me. You're completely right, this is your life, not mine. I need to respect your choices even if I don't agree with them, and god, I was so terrible to you that night. There's no excuse for how I acted, all I can do is ask you to forgive me and leave it in the past."
Then Karlie looks down at her, their eyes finally meeting. The usual glimmering jade is swimming in a sea of both hopefulness and sincere regret.
God. What am I supposed to say to that?
"I'm not trying to pressure you or anything, Taylor. If you don't want to hang out with me, I totally understand. I was a bitch and I don't expect you to just give in like that." Then Karlie pauses, hesitating. Maybe she's waiting for the singer to say something, but Taylor keeps her mouth closed, unsure of how to react. "Also, I'm sorry for spontaneously showing up here. I know you're busy with touring and rehearsals and all that jazz, you're probably really stressed now. I'm definitely interrupting something, right? You're probably supposed to be at a party or someplace else, but I just appeared out of thin air and distracted you. And it's your birthday, god, I really should've planned this out a little better. I completely ruined your day, didn't I? I never should've let myself randomly fly here just to apologize–"
"Shut up."
The model looks as if she's been slapped in the face. "What?"
"I said," Taylor says sternly, taking a step forward, "shut up," and boldly pulls the younger girl in a wholehearted hug. She can feel Karlie sharply inhale, body stiff as a board, and after a tense moment she ultimately slackens and holds her friend close.
"Sorry," Karlie repeats, sounding slightly timid again but not breaking their much-needed embrace.
"Yeah, I know, you're forgiven," Taylor tells her quietly, savoring the sweet smell of Karlie's perfume.
The singer knows deep down she never would've rejected Karlie's apology because, seriously, how can you stay mad at her?
"Is it just me or did we make this much more dramatic than it needed to be?" the model asks lightly.
Taylor smirks, "Oh, we totally did."
Then Karlie begins to giggle like an adorable little kid and suddenly the room doesn't feel so cold anymore.
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"Taylor," Andrea warns sharply, "I think that's all you need tonight."
The singer only shakes her head and angles the wine bottle downward, thickening the stream of the red substance dribbling into the glass. "No way, it's my birthday."
Karlie lets out a laugh while Andrea sighs, giving up. "You have a concert tomorrow, sweetheart. I don't think anyone there paid hundreds of dollars to see you hungover."
"I'm not gonna be hungover!" she argues, finally setting down the wine bottle and glancing around the countertop. "Oops. I can't find the cork. Damn, I lost it again!"
"Taylor, you're such a lightweight," Karlie giggles, smiling at her friend who's helplessly scrounging around on the floor for the vanishing cork.
"Me?" she asks, pausing her search and staring up at Karlie quizzically.
"Yes, you. You're completely drunk."
"I am not!" She reaches out and grabs the table for balance, heaving herself off the floor. But in mid-stand, her knees involuntarily give out and she plops back on the floor with a huff. "Ouch."
"Sweetheart, you're a mess," Andrea teases, taking a small bite of her slice of cake. Taylor doesn't answer because, yes, she really does feel like a mess right now, sitting on the ground in her fancy party dress and thick fluffy coat only buttoned halfway. She probably shouldn't have had all those glasses of wine now that she seriously thinks about it.
"C'mere, Tay," Karlie says, holding out her hands. Taylor gratefully grips them and is quickly pulled to her feet, startling her. "You should eat something."
"More cake," Taylor tells her, maneuvering her way to the gourmet dessert on the table. Karlie gently pulls her back, grinning widely.
"I mean real food."
"Cake is edible, henceforth a type of 'real food.' "
"Taylor, you shouldn't be eating sugar at eleven thirty-four at night," Andrea scolds, wagging her finger like her daughter is 5 years old again.
"Um, you are literally stuffing your face with cake right in front of me!" the singer objects.
"Yes, but I'm not drunk."
"Neither am I!"
Andrea laughs, shaking her head, and stuffs her now-empty paper plate into the garbage. "Take care of her tonight, Karlie. I think I'm going to head back to my room."
The model smiles and respectfully offers her hand out. "It was nice meeting you, Andrea."
"It was nice meeting you too," Andrea replies, shaking Karlie's hand. "And again, thank you so much for coming all the way to Australia just for Taylor. I don't think you realize how happy you made her."
Karlie softly chuckles and glances down at the floor while Andrea's smile twists into some sort of knowing smirk. Taylor watches the weird exchange but doesn't say anything, partly because she can barely stand on her legs. God, she really shouldn't have drunk so much.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," Andrea says, waving goodbye. "Happy birthday."
"Night," she halfheartedly responds, inching towards the cake that's just begging her to eat another slice. She almost makes it to the knife when Karlie flings her arm around her shoulders and drags her to the couch.
"You should sit down, not eat more cake," she advises, clearly trying to bite back a laugh when Taylor trips on her own foot.
"But it's my birthday," she whines, "I really want sugar right now."
"How about some whole-wheat crackers I bought at the airport?"
Taylor scrunches her nose up in disgust. "Absolutely not. How about I eat a small piece of cake and I'll pour you another glass of wine?" She hoists herself off the couch only to be pulled back down, falling again into the model's arms.
"No way, I'm tipsy enough already," Karlie giggles.
"Ugh, seriously? You're supposed to be taking care of me," Taylor complains, playfully nudging her shoulder.
"Your fault for drinking a hundred glasses of wine the night before your concert."
"Well, I'm sorry that I just happen to be born on December 13th and have a show the next day."
"You easily could've just put the cork in the bottle and put it back in the fridge, Tay."
"I couldn't find the cork," she shrugs, "so it's technically not my fault."
"God, you are so full of it."
"It's the alcohol talking. If you haven't noticed yet, I'm very drunk."
"Really? I had no idea," Karlie says sarcastically. Taylor grins, overwhelmed by either the warmth radiating off the model's chest or the large amount of alcohol in her system. Probably both. She tries to ignore the hammering of her heart when Karlie pulls her even closer. The feeling is all too familiar.
She has no idea what she's doing to me.
"It's really warm in here. Are you hot? I'm really hot," Taylor rambles, tearing herself away from the model before she does something dumb. Because honestly, any longer in Karlie's protective grasp, she surely would've just leaned over and kissed her. She's learned that she has no filter after more than 4 glasses of wine.
Taylor pretends not to notice Karlie's slightly hurt expression after her abrupt movement. "I– yeah, well, you turned up the heater to a stupidly-high temperature and you're wearing a jacket made for snow so..."
"Right." The singer fumbles around with the buttons, desperate to get her coat off. Her vision is blurred thanks to those delicious glasses of wine, so she manages to unbutton only one of them until she curses in annoyance when her fingers keep missing the fabric. "You're kidding me! Why won't my hands work?"
Karlie laughs and gestures for her friend to scoot closer. "Here, I'll do it."
Taylor reluctantly moves towards her, holding her breath when Karlie delicately places her hands on the second button. Her eyes are clouded with concentration as her fingers quickly move down the jacket, having no trouble at all with the simple task.
Taylor wants to groan in irritation. No one should look that hot while unbuttoning a coat.
"There, all done, you drunk," Karlie jokes cheerily, removing her hands.
"Take it off."
"What?"
"The coat," Taylor awkwardly clarifies, ignoring her friend's very-apparent blush.
"Oh. Yeah, um, okay." Karlie takes hold of the singer's jacket, ripping it off with one swift pull. The coat falls to the floor, the buttons hitting the hardwood floor with a clink!
"Now the dress," Taylor says with a wink.
Karlie instantly pales as if someone threw a bucket of white paint over her head. "I– what?"
The singer bursts out laughing, slapping her knee drunkenly. She gasps for air as Karlie unnervingly stares at her, running a hand through her tousled brown hair.
"Oh my god, it was a joke," Taylor manages to say through her giggles when the model's nervous expression doesn't disappear.
"Yeah, I got that," Karlie answers quietly, glancing at her feet. Thankfully there's more color in her cheeks now, but she still looks like a ghost just jumped out in front of her.
Taylor pulls herself together after a few more seconds of laughing, aware of her friend's discomfort. "Sorry. I'm drunk. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It was supposed to be a lighthearted joke."
"Uh, don't worry. I was just surprised, that's it."
"Oh."
Karlie smiles, finally loosening up. "Clearly you've never experienced an intoxicated Karlie Kloss. I'm literally so dramatic when I'm drunk."
"Oh please, I'm the most dramatic drunk you'll ever meet," Taylor disagrees. "Watch this: I'm starving and you won't let me eat any cake so now I'm going to dramatically storm off." She begins to stand up, ready to stomp to the bedroom, but Karlie pulls her back down to the couch for the 2nd time. Not that she's complaining. Laying on the couch with the model's arm around her shoulder is one of the best things she's ever experienced in life.
"Oh yeah? Watch this: I don't want you to leave me so I'm going to dramatically flip you over and pin you down to the couch," Karlie challenges. Before Taylor can say anything, Karlie already has her on her back, the model comfortably laying on top of her while a gasp leaves Taylor's mouth.
Jesus Christ. You're kidding me.
"That's the best you got?" the singer says, distracting herself from staring at Karlie's lips that are way too close. "Watch this: I'm freezing cold so I'm going to dramatically hug you until your lungs stop working." She wiggles her arms out from Karlie's grasp and tightly wounds them around the model, holding her securely so she can't twist her way out.
Okay, this may just be an excuse to hug her, but in Taylor's defense she's hopelessly drunk and can barely think out actual words.
"God, you're like a koala," Karlie giggles, the vibration from her chest making the butterflies in Taylor's stomach flutter. "I thought you were burning up in your coat."
"Mm, yeah, well I just felt like hugging you."
"You're being very bold right now."
"I've had a lot of alcohol tonight, what do you expect, Kar?"
Taylor shuts her eyes and settles in the model's arms, her head resting comfortably on Karlie's chest. Yes, she's very aware friends don't do this, but who even cares at this point?
"Your heartbeat is abnormally fast right now," Taylor observes, straining her ears for the calming thump and biting back a giggle when it suddenly speeds up.
"Sorry," Karlie breathes out.
"No, no, it's really nice to listen to. Like, it has a really good beat. I think something like this would sound nice in a song, don't you think?"
"I guess," she says, "but I'm not the songwriter here." She pauses, humming for a moment, and adds, "But I bet I could write a whole album about how pretty your eyes are."
Taylor is too intoxicated to even blush, she just rolls her eyes and laughs. "You're very sweet when you're drunk."
Karlie scoffs, "Hey, I'm always sweet."
"You're actually one of the sweetest people I've ever met."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really."
"But I didn't even buy you a birthday present," she objects.
"I don't care. Having you here is the best gift I've gotten this whole day, believe it or not." Taylor shifts to look up at the model, noting how crimson her cheeks appear.
Oh. She's blushing.
The singer swallows, clearing that thought from her mind. Karlie's just drunk. We're both drunk. I'm actually completely wasted.
In fact, the singer is so hammered she doesn't even remember Karlie pulling her back into a sitting position. Her head is terribly muddled, feeling like someone has just filled it up with a bucket of water.
"I'll make sure to give you something soon," Karlie slurs, voice gravelly. Taylor can only nod, gazing deeply at those strawberry pink lips.
Is she coming closer? It looks like she's coming closer. Oh my god. She's getting really close to me.
Taylor can barely tell. Her vision is completely blurred, she doesn't even notice Karlie's hands slowly moving to her face, lightly holding her cheeks.
She doesn't notice her heart lurching up into her throat at the feel of Karlie's fingers against her face. She doesn't notice pushing herself confidently against the model, a rush of adrenaline rushing through her body, and smirking at their close contact. She doesn't notice Karlie's breath lacing her lips, tempting and hot. She doesn't notice arching into her touch, letting out a sigh of delight when their foreheads rest against each other.
All she knows is that she's not going to remember a single thing tomorrow.
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A/N: This was insanely corny but thank you for reading :) Votes and comments are appreciated!!!