t & j [one shots]

taymerica

Taylor catches a glimpse of her reflection on the stainless steel toaster oven and almost has to do a double take. Her 5'10 frame is practically unrecognizable, buried under bleached blonde locks, and red, white, and blue face paint. She looks down at the red heart etched on her arm and cringes a bit.

The tattoo had looked so much better outside, in the sun, on the Watch Hill rocks- back when all of the booze and adrenaline was still coursing through her veins.

But now, standing alone in the kitchen, somewhat sober, the heart no longer holds the same symbolism. If anything, it's just another reminder of how pathetic her life is.

"Tay? You okay?"

Taylor pulls away from her thoughts. Blake is hovering over her, armed with beach towels, her baby bump sticking out over her striped bikini bottoms.

"You good there?" Blake murmurs.

As if it's rehearsed, a smile appears on Taylor's face. "Oh yeah, don't worry, I'm good, thanks," Taylor says hurriedly.

Blake gives her a sympathetic nod. "Ryan and I were gonna get away from the craziness for a bit and take a walk up to the lighthouse. Do you wanna come?"

Taylor shakes her head. "No, I'm good. But thanks. I think I'm gonna go upstairs and take a breather."

"You should," Blake says encouragingly. "I've been worried about you burning yourself to the ground. You're always go, go go. It's alright to take a second, you know?"

Taylor smiles blankly. "I'm just glad that everyone's having a good time."

Taylor looks out at all of the people jumping into her pool, cocktails in hand, and then back at Blake, who's already halfway out the door. Tom's with the rowdy bunch, nursing a beer on a blow-up swan.

Watching him help refill drinks and entertain the crowd with animated gestures, Taylor can't help but feel irritated. And she's guilty for feeling that way, but something about him playing the role of co-host just sends her skin crawling. It's not that Tom's repulsive as a person- quite the opposite actually. He's handsome and charming and good company. He buys Taylor red roses and kisses her cheek and zippers her dresses. And yet, Taylor still finds herself craving more.

Telling herself that it's just the fatigue talking, Taylor makes her way upstairs and decides to change out of her red swimsuit.

She's standing in her closet, rummaging for that navy keyhole top she had her stylist get specifically for this weekend's slew of Instagram posts, when her phone starts ringing. It's Joe.

"Hi," Taylor says thinly. She doesn't even try to cover up her exhaustion for him.

"Hey," Joe breathes back. "Just wanted to see how you're doing."

Taylor feels her chest cave in and she's not sure why. "I'm good," she bubbles. "Thanks for umm calling. It's good to hear your voice. How are you? Have any good Fourth of July plans?"

Joe chuckles softly. "It's kinda a bitter holiday for us Brits, you know, all things considered."

Taylor laughs at his sarcasm and mentally slaps herself.

"Do you have any plans though?" Joe asks.

Taylor swallows hard. "I'm throwing a...small party for some friends."

"Oh no, I didn't mean to tear you away from your party," Joe warbles, his voice audibly apologetic.

Taylor shakes her head and chuckles darkly. "I'm actually not having that great of a time. I needed a minute to get away from all of the chaos. My one friend- I don't even know if they're really a friend- I only met them the one time- just threw up in the hot tub."