heroine (taylor swift and travis kelce)

it's been a long time coming

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't anticipating Travis showing up to one of the opening concerts. Sure, he had his own life - he had his football and she should be thinking about the tour. But she also was so desperate to feel okay again that it was good for her mind to be distracted. Distracted with the longing that she felt deep in the pits of her stomach. Because fundamentally, she still loved Joe. She was still absolutely wrecked by his decision, and she still didn't know if she saw herself being able to go back to him.

He'd severed their golden string and it seemed like he hadn't even thought twice about doing so.
Sitting on the sofa in her dressing room, Taylor's stomach was twisting and turning inside of her.
Her Mom was fiddling with something in her handbag, and Taylor's head snapped in her direction - irritated by the noise.
"Mom," Taylor snapped, before guilt settled in her stomach. "Sorry. I'm sorry."
"Baby, it's going to be great! You've been practicing for almost a year." Andrea reached out and put a hand on Taylor's knee. "Sure, it hasn't worked out how you thought it was going to... but you're here." Andrea told her softly. "If anyone can do it, it's you."
"I don't want to do it, Mom. I don't want to sing the songs I wrote for him. I don't... I don't want..." Shaking her head, Taylor sighed. "I never thought this would... I never thought it would end like this. I mean, I knew he didn't want to come to the tour and I accepted that. But now..."
Andrea wrapped her arms around her daughter, and Taylor was grateful for her embrace.
"I hate seeing you like this, Taylor."
The comment made her eyes water as she leaned her head on her Mom's shoulder.
"I don't like feeling like this." Taylor told her. "I literally never, ever thought Joe would make me feel like this. I just didn't even think that was possible."
"You're going to get up there, and you're going to do your best." Andrea encouraged her. "You've done it before, and you can do it again."
"I don't want to sing those fucking songs." Lover. Invisible String. Willow. Champagne Problems. Delicate. Don't Blame Me. Betty. Lavender Haze. Mastermind. All of those fucking songs that she specifically wrote with or about him. When she'd been putting together the set list last year, she'd never have thought she'd be singing them with her heart shattered in a million pieces in front of her.

But here she was, living in that unbelievable moment.

Standing underneath the stage, Taylor was relieved to find that she was feeling a little excited. Because this was the first night of the tour, and she loved that no one in the world knew what she had planned for tonight. This was the only night where it would truly be unknown to everyone.
She'd make it through, she always did.

A tear slipped down her cheek during Lover, she was sure of it.

Champagne Problems almost killed her. It took everything in her to keep singing. Especially the bridge. It took all of her self control to keep singing, to appear like she'd been waiting for this moment - to hear the crowd singing it back to her. And she had been waiting for that moment, but not like this.

Singing Mirrorball as a surprise song made the lockdown memories come right back. How Joe would wake up early in the morning and make bread so they could have fancy breakfast with eggs and bacon and roasted tomatoes and mushrooms and avocado. Taylor loved those days so much - how she'd be sat at the piano writing and he'd poke his head around the door and give her a thumbs up. The way he'd bring her cups of coffee and tea, the way he'd always remind her to eat lunch.

She walked away from the stage feeling like she'd run a marathon. The mental exhaustion of having to suck it up and smile, force herself to be happy and love every moment... that was the exhausting part. It wasn't the dancing or the singing - she could easily do that. But it was the mental strain she'd been under tonight. So before she could think about leaving, Taylor needed a few minutes to recover. Standing in a quiet corner, she closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. Running her hands through her hair, she tried to take several deep breaths. She'd made it through the concert, and she hoped that the first one would be the hardest.