[ ᴛᴀᴠʏᴠɪs ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛs ]

my castles crumbling down (Pt 2) (tw)

snice a few people wanted taylors pov and you guys liked it so much, I shall deliver and give it to you!

and im going to write more today in honor of 2.3k reads!! (Probaly some angst / fluff)

also, i dont believe in ANY of things i write in this chapter, and im depicting them as her thoughts. Also, there are mentions of eating disorder you if you get triggered by that i suggest you dont read.

anyways, here ya go! 

...

Taylors POV:

The incessant urge to delve into the depths of the internet, to immerse myself in the sea of opinions and speculations about my life, proved to be an irresistible temptation. It was as if an insatiable itch gnawed at my conscience, compelling me to scour through the countless videos and articles that dissected my existence - dissected me - with ruthless abandon. Yet, with every click, I ventured further down a dark and treacherous path, a labyrinth of fake news and sensationalized headlines that threatened to engulf me in their deceptive grasp.

Why couldn't I simply ignore the noise, turn a blind eye to the cacophony of voices clamoring for attention? Why did I feel compelled to subject myself to the relentless scrutiny of strangers, to expose my vulnerabilities to the unforgiving gaze of the online masses?

They say curiosity killed the cat, and in these moments of weakness, I couldn't help but feel the weight of that age-old adage pressing down upon me.

With a wary gaze, I found myself staring at a headline that dared to question the most intimate details of my life, casting doubt upon my very existence. Words like "pregnant" and "fat" leaped out from the screen, laced with judgment and condemnation. I felt a hot tear trace its path down my cheek, a silent testament to the pain that welled within me at the sight of such callous disregard for my humanity.

Was this how people perceived me? Reduced to nothing more than a collection of flaws and imperfections, scrutinized and dissected for the amusement of faceless spectators? Had I truly become nothing more than a caricature of myself, distorted and misrepresented by the whims of an unforgiving public?

As I scrolled further, the headlines continued to assault my senses, each one more damning than the last. I was labeled a terrible human being, my talents questioned and my worth diminished by the cruel words of strangers. The weight of their accusations bore down upon me, threatening to crush me beneath their collective weight.

As the tears continued to flow unabated, I felt the weight of despair pressing down upon me, suffocating me with its relentless grip. It was as if a dark cloud had descended upon my soul, casting a shadow over every glimmer of hope and joy that once filled my heart. How had I allowed myself to be consumed by the relentless onslaught of headlines and scrutiny? I loved creating music, basking in the adoration of my fans and the exhilaration of performing on stage. Yet, with each passing day, the burden of fame grew heavier, threatening to crush me beneath its unforgiving weight.

Curling up on the floor of the closet, I found comfort in the darkness, seeking refuge from the harsh glare of the spotlight that seemed to follow me relentlessly. Exhausted and drained, I longed for respite from the ceaseless barrage of criticism and judgment that bombarded my every move. Why had I been chosen to bear this burden? What had I done to deserve such relentless scrutiny and condemnation?

With trembling hands, I reached out to touch the reflection staring back at me from the mirror. I saw a mess of tangled hair and tear-streaked cheeks, a visage marred by the pain and self-doubt that gnawed at my very soul. How could anyone ever love someone so broken and flawed? How could Travis, with his unwavering devotion and boundless love, see past the facade of fame to the vulnerable soul beneath?