IMAGINES | travis kelce + taylor swift (1)

9.1 | rumors.

TRIGGER WARNING: PANIC ATTACK, MENTIONS OF CAR ACCIDENTS AND PHYSICAL ALTERCATIONS
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"Yeah, Dre?" Taylor greeted through the speaker, clearly stressed from juggling two tasks at once. Multi-tasking was definitely not her strong suite, especially when it played into the game of her career. "I'm currently on my way to a meeting with my producer. Is everything okay? Can this wait by chance?"

Above all, Taylor was curious as to why Travis's manager was contacting her during a business day, as it's quite rare to maintain any communication with the man at all. She connected with André as if he were family because he pretty much was at this point, though it wasn't often she received a proposal from the guy over the phone. She'd only spoken to him twice—when Travis was injured during practice and had no access to getting through to her, and once when her boyfriends vehicle had collided with another car.

Dre cleared his throat, "It's about Travis."

Taylor halted in her tracks, her heart stopping at the reference to her significant other. She had been made fully aware that the two cellular interactions shared with Travis's manager never resulted glorified in positive information. Frantically, Taylor asked, "Is he alright? What happened? I just spoke to him an hour ago, and he seemed perfectly fine."

"He is, supposedly," Dre clarified. "There are rumors surfacing the internet around his night out in Vegas last night claiming that he cheated. Though there is absolutely no evidence to back it up, and I'm sure you'd know that's something he's incapable of doing, he is a little afraid of your reaction."

Taylor chortled, "Yeah, I saw those briefly. Tell him not to worry, though, I hardly pay the internet much attention. I'll be at the condo sometime this evening, and I'll take care of it then. Tree has been working on taming those allegations to a minimum," she explained. "The media will take absolutely anything that they see in my circle and create some false accusations to sell a story."

The manager reciprocated the giggle. "That's what I told him, too, Taylor. He's freaking out because he knows of your not-so-good history with men—specifically Joe, and that's the side he believes you'll defend. Myself, Patrick, and Ross were with him every step of the way that night, so I know better than anyone that he was out of other females' faces, but you know him. He loves you, Tay."

"I know he does. I should be there by six, so I'll be sure to have a conversation with him when I arrive. I gotta go, though, I'm late enough as is already."

Dre laughed again. "Great, Taylor, thanks again for your time. Good luck!"

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"Travis," Taylor croaked, staring at his lifeless body. "Baby, what happened?"

The man, scarcely recognized as her boyfriend, trembled along to his cries, faced down in a puddle of sweat on the bedroom floor, whimpering from the lack of oxygen he could nourish his brain with. He had all but refused to make eye contact with her. The fear of uncovering his vulnerability to her shielded the process of vivid communication. Though, in his defense, the absence of air passing through his lungs made it difficult for him to articulate an explanation for her, one for which he wasn't ready to have.

She hadn't seen him like this before. Not when he was extended his knee out of place that day, not even when the wind was knocked out of him in the car accident. He was surely a mess then, but he at least had some control over his emotions, his own figure. In this moment, whatever absurd thought process was fumbling with his mind right now had him at a loss for words.