this is me trying | taylor swift

twenty two

❝ everything will be alright if we just keep dancing like we're 22❞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Ella, talk to me, baby. Please don't shut me out. It's me, Ella. It's me." 

✮

Three days earlier . . .

Taylor felt the world spinning beneath her feet as she stepped out of the backseat of the tinted vehicle, now safely stowed away in the garage. She bid her driver farewell and waved to Nico, her security guard who would be remaining close-by incase of any emergencies. The blonde woman winced as she swallowed, her sore throat getting worse by the hour. The constant touring and international travels seemed to have caught up to the singer, who had spent the better portion of her time traveling back to the States in-and-out of consciousness, thanks to the NyQuil medicine she was taking and a generous dosage of Melatonin gummies. Sick right before the holidays, fantastic. 

Seconds later, Taylor heard her mom's voice coming from inside the home followed by excited footsteps as she attempted to muster up a smile, so as not to worry her family. However, her mom knew her way better than to fall for that. After all, Andrea had raised that girl for over thirty years.

"Hi Mom!" Taylor puckered her lips at her mom, blowing her a kiss as she tried to maintain a mindful distance from her. Andrea was immunocompromised, and Taylor worried that any common illness could send her rushing to the nearest hospital, and she definitely did not want that to ever happen. 

"Sweetheart, what's wrong? Are you sick?" Andrea immediately rushed towards her eldest, her worried eyes scanning over Taylor, who looked unusually pale.

"I'm okay, Mom. But I think I'm coming down with something. And now that I think of it, I might just go to my place tonight, so I don't get any of you sick," Taylor mentally punished herself for not thinking of that earlier. For some reason, although she obviously knew that her mother was susceptible to illnesses, she still had her car bring her home, rather than to her own house. In her ill state, it hadn't even crossed her mind. Until now.

"Nonsense, Tay. We'll be okay. It's you I'm worried about. Now come inside and let's get you in bed," Andrea shook her head, completely opposed to the idea of Taylor spending the night alone in her home across town when she was not feeling well. No matter how old her children got, they would always be her babies and she would always worry about them. 

"No, Mom. I don't want to get any of you si--" Taylor's voice wavered off as she slightly stumbled, grabbing onto the built in shelving to stabilize herself. Her mom acted quickly and grabbed her arm and waist, using Taylor's dizzy spell to her advantage as she slowly walked the two of them towards the door.

"Taylor Alison. You are not going anywhere other than to your bedroom upstairs. I am your mother and I will not have this back and forth thing continue. Now, let's go inside," Andrea led her oldest child inside, much to Taylor's displeasure. However, realistically, Taylor knew it would probably be best, because her dizziness was getting worse and worse. At this rate, she was unsure if she could make it upstairs, let alone to her own home. 

"Hey, Tay!" Ella called from the kitchen island where she sat. The teenager had been anxiously awaiting her sister's arrival from the garage, not having gone out to welcome her. Every minute counted and she knew that as soon as Taylor saw her, she would have questions. Who was she to speed up that process for herself?

Instead, Ella spent the better half of ten minutes wringing and releasing the sleeves of the grey hoodie she was wearing, that completely swallowed her. Ten minutes later, Ella's nerves were no better and her sweatshirt needed a desperate ironing job.