Unlucky love

20- Breaking Inside

I'm sitting in Taylor Swift's kitchen with a plate of pancakes and my phone. My Instagram is busy as usual, likes and comments flowing in. Considering it's almost 11am, no one apart from me is awake and I had to cook myself some breakfast. It almost went tragically wrong when I spilt pancake batter everywhere. Everything is fine now luckily because I don't think Taylor would appreciate me wrecking her kitchen the first time I cook in it. I turn my phone on again after the fifth pancake is finished and a notification from Twitter pings in. '@Taylorswift13 should watch out today.' It's been retweeted about 300 times already. I eat the rest of the pancakes quickly, scraping the plate clean with my tongue. Whilst I put the sparkly wet plate in the dishwasher, Cara walks in, her hair still tousled from sleep. "Hey sexy," she greets me.
"Right back at ya," I smirk, letting my mind being fill with the current view. She's walking around in a tight fitting vest top and cheeky hipsters. "D'you want anything?" She asks, her arms full of various fruits and yogurts.
"No thanks, I've eaten," I reply, watching her slip around the kitchen making stuff. "But check this." I hold my phone and show her the tweet.
"Damn," Cara says, her mouth full of yogurt.
"Should we worry?"
"Probably not, we get stuff like this all the time." She feeds me yogurt over the table and I giggle at the cuteness. "Come here." Cara opens her long arms and I sink into her. I can hear her methodic heartbeat. A smile stretches across my face. "What are we going to do today?" She asks.
"I don't know, what is the best thing to do in New York?" I snuggle further into her embrace, letting her decide what we should do.
"Shopping!" Cara shouts quietly, kissing my forehead. I tilt my head upwards and bite her lower lip. Her gentle hands guide my lips to meet hers properly. We kiss slowly, lovingly, in our own little world.

"Good morning," a perky Taylor says ten minutes later, interrupting our kiss. She's wearing dark-wash jeans and a wooly sweater already. "Hey Tay," I say, getting up from Cara's lap. "Good night?"
"Better then ever," she grins, causing Cara to splutter with laughter and run from the room muttering something about needing to get dressed. Taylor just ignores her, probably used to it. "So where's blonde beauty number two?" I ask.
"I'm making her breakfast in bed," Taylor replies sweetly, stirring a vegan smoothie.
"Just take her some of her own kookies."
"Lils, just because she has different food habits to the rest of us it doesn't mean I'm not making the effort. I'll make even more of an effort."
"Ok," I laugh, backing away in surrender. "I'm gonna get dressed, I'll go see Karlie now because me and Cara are leaving you alone for the day."
"Thanks," Taylor says bemusedly. I duck out of the kitchen but then remember the tweet. I'm going to tell her just in case. "Taylor."
"Yeah?" She turns to face me.
"Be careful today. Keep safe."
"Umm, okay. I'm only planning on going to the store," Taylor says, confusedly looking at me.

Six hours later.

"Taylor, Karlie we're back. If you're nude please cover up," I shout, leaping out of the way as Cara tries to tickle me again. As I walk into the kitchen she corners me and before long I'm bent over double in her arms, begging for her to stop. When we've stopped laughing I finally notice the eerie silence. "Babe, are they here?" I ask, licking Cara's nose.
"They might be having silent sex," Cara suggests, "now that is fun."
"Seriously Cara, the tweet." I smack her lightly and walk out of the kitchen to Taylor's bedroom. I listen carefully at the door before turning the cold handle. The light room is sparse and clean, the bed made with no signs of any play. I close the door behind me, my brain whirring into action. "Babe?" Cara calls from the kitchen. "Is she there?"
"No," I yell back, pacing around in a circle, thinking of possible scenarios.
"Check the front room!"
"Come with me." Cara appears just like I requested and holds my shaking hand as we walk towards the front room.

The first thing that hits me as we step through the doorway to Taylor's front room is the putrid stench of liquor. I see an empty wine bottle lying sideways on the floor, the last of its content spilling onto the wooden floor. From beside me, Cara gasps, tugging my arm. I turn my head, dreading what I'm about to see.