Taylor Swift Imagines - book one (GXG)

5.0 | down at the park (requested)

possible TW: language, alcohol and smoking.

It was pretty late in the afternoon. You had been down at the park for at least two hours now, which was pretty rare for you, since you really don't leave your house unless you absolutely have to, school included. You'd think that was good, right?

No, it fucking wasn't.

You and your boyfriend were sitting at the park bench, just thinking about life. Recently, you were coming down very strongly with one of your crises. Usually, you'd stay silent and deal with it by relating to sad songs, but this time, it was different. You couldn't keep it in. You felt your chest burning. You felt useless, worthless and like a truck had run over you at least ten times. And though you really weren't the biggest fan of venting, you had reached out for help. Not the ideal help, but it was already something.

You called your boyfriend, Jake, who was almost three years older than you. He didn't like seeing you that way, so, to get your mind off of things, he went to the closest store and came down with a bottle of Tanqueray and Smirnoff, along with a pack of Marlboro that he bought for himself. You knew that wasn't the right thing to do, and that probably telling an adult would avoid this whole situation, but you didn't have the courage to tell anyone, not even your mother. And you wanted to, you really did, but you couldn't ruin her perfect world. Your mom was lately at her best. She was happy and wasn't facing any other problems that would make her collapse, like you were about to do, but you couldn't make her feel like a failure. She was so busy with the whole schedule thing that she had barely any time left for mother-daughter bonding hours. And you felt embarrassed, for some reason, to talk to her about it.

You had recently turned sixteen, and a key turned on your mind. Apparently, once you turn sixteen, you're not allowed to cry for help from your mother. That's what the internet made you think, and that's what put you in this darkness in the first place.

Mean snaps, rude comments and shitty opinions were the only thing you could see on your comments, and you didn't have any support, because your mom had no idea. She only ran her Instagram and Tiktok, and barely did as it is.

You sat down with your heart in pain and your head pounding, tired of having cried the whole night. He scooped your body and laid your head onto his lap. You started to cry, tired of thinking you were a failure at only sixteen years old.

"It's alright, princess. Everything will be alright." He said, taking a hold of the bottle inside his backpack. " Want some?" He offered you.

Hesitantly, you nodded. You had never tried alcohol without your mom around. On New Year's Eve parties or even Fourth Of July, she would let you sip some champagne and white wine out of her glass, just so you could try it a little, and you knew she wouldn't be okay with you drinking like this.

Your boyfriend opened the bottle and handed it to you. You started to drink it like there was no tomorrow, despite the burning sensation. As the hours progressed, you started to fall open.

"Honestly, what the fuck is wrong with this fans? Like, they're so fucking rude!" you snapped.

"Yeah, I figured." Your boyfriend said, puffing on his cigarette. In the moment, you decided to take it out of his mouth,  which caught him off guard. "Babe, give it back."

"But I wanna try it!" You pouted and insisted.

"No, this is absolutely out of control. Give it back, now."

"But you brought me vodka, why can't I try the cigarettes?" You crossed your arms and waited for his response.

"I only brought you drinks because your mom has already given them to you! She's never given you cigarettes, and I'm beyond sure she wouldn't appreciate me introducing them to you." You giggled a little at the irony. Yeah, you told Jake your mother had approved you drinking, which was a drunk ass lie. You pouted, and the discussion ended. When he wasn't looking, you were able to snatch some three Marlboros into your pocket.