chapter 12

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Taylor decides that, until she hears back from Anthony with a plan, it's probably best to continue on as normal. She doesn't want to risk pissing off Jett. He was nice. He wrote a nice song about her, said nice things about her onstage. So, on the bus to the next city, she snuggles up next to him and rests her head on his shoulder. She lets him kiss the top of her head and call her beautiful.

She likes it. She likes the way that he makes her feel like the most special girl in the world, and for a moment, she really does start to think, maybe I should be honored that I wrote something that was even worth copying.

But she shakes that thought away. She believes that two things can be true: she deserves to be credited and respected for the art that she creates, and she is incredibly attracted to Jett.

Because no matter how hot he is, how good he makes her feel in some moments, it will never replace how bad she felt when she heard him sing the lyrics onstage that were taken from her, or the way that she felt when she realized that he had to have taken her journal and gone through it.

Neither of those things are things that she can just let slide.

That night, they're in Jett's Portland hotel room, cuddled up all cozy as he flips through the channels. In typical northwest fashion, it's raining outside, so they can't go out and explore the city tonight, leaving them stuck in the musty hotel room. To no surprise of Taylor's, there doesn't seem to be anything good on TV. There never is. She looks up at him and takes a deep breath. "Jett, I've got a question for you... and I don't want you to get mad at me, I just want to know a truthful answer."

"What's that?" he asks.

"Did you read my journal?"

The look that crosses Jett's face tells Taylor that he is more than guilty. She can't help but think that he slightly resembles a deer caught in a pair of headlights, running across the freeway on the darkest night of the year.

But he won't admit to it.

"No. Why would you think that?"

"I just... maybe it's silly, but I noticed that a few of the words that you used in your new song that you wrote about me were from my list of favorite words that I remember telling you I kept in my journal. I really appreciate the detail of you wanting to use those words that are special to me, but I've told you before that my journal is my private space, and I just... it caught me off guard, hearing them like that."

As Taylor speaks, she can practically see the wheels turning in Jett's head. She can see him concocting an alibi.

She doesn't know if he can't come up with anything better, or he genuinely thinks that it'll work, but he decides to go with gaslighting.

"Sweetie, you told those words to me, don't you remember? I asked to hear some of the list, so you got your little journal and read them off to me."

Taylor raises an eyebrow. "I really don't remember that. It doesn't sound like something that I would do."

"No, you definitely did," Jett tells her. "Sweetie, you told me that that journal wasn't for anyone else's eyes and I respect that. You know that I'd never do anything to hurt you, or snoop on you, or anything like that. I trust you and I know that sometimes, it can be overwhelming to be in this industry. Trust me, I know that better than anyone. If journaling helps you to get those feelings out, then that's what you have to do. I would never want to invade your privacy like that. It's just been a really crazy week and probably just slipped your mind, you sharing your list with me."

Taylor sighs. She doesn't even know what to say to that. She knows that she would remember reading the list to Jett. She doesn't share that sort of thing with people. She's never showed the list to anyone, not men she's dated nor her closest friends.

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