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"(y/n)!"
you see Taylor running towards you, beads of sweat dripping down her face and arms.
"Wasn't that the best show EVER!"
you have no choice but to agree. This was the final show of the Red tour, and it had been a huge success. Every venue had been sold out, every crowd had been the most supportive and rowdy, and Taylor, as usual, had performed at her best. Little did either of you know, this wouldn't be the only performance she was giving tonight.
"You fucking KILLED it Queen!" you say, keeping up the pretence that you've been gay this whole time. You're fairly sure Taylor doesn't know you're straight, but that is soon about to change.
As usual after any show, Taylor escapes out of the back door of the venue and takes a blacked-out taxi to the nearest swanky hotel. As her backstage manager and best friend, you know the ins and outs of her routine. As you both climb into the low-key taxi, you both let out a sigh of relief, excitement and reflection. Relief that the tour was over, excitement for what's to come, and relief that it's all over for now. The taxi driver was mercifully silent, and judging by the Spanish music blaring from the radio, didn't even know who Taylor was. Perfect. You both arrived at the hotel, hot and exhausted and immediately purchase a night in the penthouse suite. Dark sunglasses and long trenchcoats hide your identities from the bystanders in the lobby. As you sneak up the stairs (the elevator is too risky), you both reach for the banister at the same time. your soft hands touch for the briefest moment, but it's enough to send a shiver down your spine.
This was the far from the first time this has happened, but this time it felt different. You look at each other in the eyes for an equally brief moment, but your eyes said more than your words ever could. The emotion exchanged in that split-second was more than you'd ever felt in all your years as Taylor's manager and best friend. Tonight was the night.
