Taylor gnawed on the seam of her cashmere sweater. It was ninety fucking degrees outside but the AC was blasting through the hotel unit. Goosebumps formed on Taylor's bare legs as she stood in front of the ill-lit balcony.
Even though it was foggy and getting dark, Taylor could still make out the coffee shop down the road. She used to be able to run in there after a morning walk without getting photographed or bombarded with fans. A quiet luxury, that perhaps, in hindsight she took for granted after awhile.
A young couple pushing a stroller entered the shop. The woman carried a ratty teddy bear in one arm and a massive diaper bag in the other. Taylor swallowed hard at the sight, chose to move away from the glass door. It had been over two years after all. Grieving now was silly.
But maybe not as silly as flying out to London in the dead of night because she had four glasses of wine too many and was feeling drunk and impulsive and reckless. One of the unexpected cons of having $900 million to your name was the disgustedly easy access to international airfare at a moment's notice.
One minute Taylor was crying over a baseball hat and the next she was stuffing jeans into a Louis Vuitton duffle and boarding a jet. By the time it set down in Heathrow, Taylor felt a pit in her stomach, was hit with the irrationality of her decision. She switched off her location, silenced the notification from Austin.
And here she stood, nearly eight hours later, still paralyzed by her impulsivity. The $800-a-night hotel was starting to feel like a prison. Taylor wasn't sure if she wanted to hole up and wallow in her distress or bust out and set fire to the city.
She moved closer to the bed, leaning towards holing up when she heard a familiar voice ricochet down the hallway. For a luxury hotel the walls were terribly paper thin.
AN: Don't know if I'll continue this but I'll try my best. This is super short, but I had a burst of creativity and needed to write for ten minutes lol. Anyways thanks for reading.