You could hardly believe what you were seeing.
Unable to peel your eyes away from the small television sitting in the corner of your room, you stood there, motionless, the can of coke you'd retrieved from the kitchen dangling dangerously in between your fingertips.
A video of the notoriously famous popstar, Taylor Swift, flashed before the screen, her body adorned with a red Kansas Chiefs sweater. The body which, three days prior, you had worshipped so lovingly.
You always knew that she and you weren't serious, or so you'd assumed. Your assumptions were proven right by the scene unfolding before your eyes.
But for her shove her new relationship in your face, without any warning, it hurt, even if you weren't anything more than friends with benefits. Especially when you'd just been contemplating about making whatever you had with her real.
You gritted your teeth, barely noticing the single tear that had made its way down your cheek. You swiftly pulled your phone out of your pocket, your fingers angrily tapping at the screen.
You weren't going to let her get away with this.
Your ringtone rang, it's melody somewhat haunting. You made a mental note to change it later on. As of right now, you had more important things to attend to.
"Hi, this is Taylor. I can't reach you right now, but please leave me a message or voicemail after the beep."
Oh, you'd leave her a message alright.
You: what the fuck??
thats low even for u.
you wanna explain or are you gonna keep being a coward?
i deserve an explanation
Her reply was almost instantaneous.
Taylor: The Ritz Hotel, Room 113. Meet me there.
You clicked your phone shut, your car keys jingling as you carelessly snatched them from the table beside you. You were going to make sure you came home with a solid explanation if it was the last thing you ever did.
--
The numbers '113' stared at you, practically demanding you to go in. You didn't need to be asked twice. You rapped at the door, completely unbothered about how loud you were being.
"Taylor!" you yelled, your fists numb from hitting the white wooden door. Finally, with a creak of the hinges, the door opened.
Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. She hadn't even bothered to take off heer makeup from the game earlier today, her red sweater still stuck to her chest.
Without skipping a second beat, you stormed into the room, dragging her along by the cuff of her sweater. You slammed her against the wall, kicking the door shut.
"Wanna explain?" you hissed, the look in your eyes enough to kill.
She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing.
"You think you have the right to question me?" she asked, her voice at a dangerous low.
You rolled your eyes, refusing to submit to her. "Yeah, I think I do."
She raised her brows, clearly surprised at you defying her.
"Not with that attitude," she shot back. You were shoved back, and in a split second, you found yourself compromised in the same position Taylor had just been in, except now her hand was rested on your throat.
"Who is he?" you rasped, uselessly clawing at her hands.
"A reminder of who you belong to," she replied. You had to resist the temptation to roll your eyes again at her stupidly mysterious answer.
