"I'm just lookin' for some real friends, all they ever do is let me down, every time I let somebody in, then I find out what they're all about, I'm just looking for some real friends..."
"What's that rubbish you're singing?"
I stutter to a stop and look up at my father who is peering at me over the top of his glasses, a cup of coffee in one hand, a newspaper in the other
"It's uh... something Renee and I were working on in the studio yesterday"
"Bin it. You sound pathetic and needy, it's not a good sound Taylor"
"Yes daddy" I tell him, knowing it's not worth arguing about but feeling the sting of tears anyways
I had cried my heart out in the studio as we came up with the lyrics to what I had hoped would be the first song I recorded for my second album. Every word was so real and captured every emotion that I had felt since my father and I had moved to L.A from our home in Pennsylvania, when we had left my mother and my brother behind.
Daddy said I didn't need the distractions, as soon as I made it big we would start sending money home for them and we could buy them plane tickets to come and visit us whenever they wanted, it's now 18 months since my first single went to number one and I still haven't seen my mother or my brother.
"The car will be here in 15 minutes, you aren't going to get dressed?"
"I am dressed" I look down at my grey track pants with bugs bunny on and my black off the shoulder t-shirt
"You look like a poor kid from the streets Taylor not a top pop star. Do you think you would see Beyonce or Britney Spears dressed like such a slob?" He slams his coffee cup down and tuts in disgust and I know it's not worth arguing with him, it's never worth arguing with him.
My father is not only the head of my family but he's my manager too, no decision about my life or my career is ever made without him giving it the green light first and that includes what I wear, what I eat, who I talk to, what I say in interviews, in fact I can't remember the last time I made a decision for myself.
I walk silently up the marble stairs to my bedroom.
With my first major pay cheque my dad bought this house in the Hollywood hills, it's larger than we could ever need and cost more money than I could ever imagine spending but it was his dream home so we bought half of it, and currently owe the bank for the other half, my second album has no option but to be a huge success so we can pay off the remainder of the mortgage.
Crossing the landing I turn the ornate gold handle to my bedroom and step inside.
Nothing in here is me, not the decoration, not the furniture, not the clothes hanging in the closet but I move silently between the hangers, reach for a dress I know my father likes because he saw Britney wearing one similar, snatch up a pair of nude heels and then change.
I release my hair from the ponytail I had it tied in and then add a layer of mascara, some bronzer and then spray some perfume, moving like a robot through the familiar routine of making myself presentable to my father.
Heading back down the stairs he meets me at the bottom, tutting again and chastising me for making us look bad in front of the driver
Sitting in the long, black, completely unnecessary limousine, I ask my father for my phone and then scroll through my official instagram account
"The Ellen Show is a big deal Taylor"
"Yes daddy"
"Do not embarrass us"
"I won't daddy"
"I gave her a list of questions you definitely would not answer, did you study it?"
"Yes daddy I did"
"Did you study the answers you can give?"
"I did"
"There's a nobody, z list actress appearing before you and the rock band Particular Taste are being interviewed and performing after you. There will be an after show, try and make conversation with Ellen and the actress but stay well away from the rock band, they will be a group of drug addicts and alcoholics, the last thing you need is to be associated with the likes of them"
"Yes daddy"
I scroll through Instagram and click on The Ellen Show, checking out which picture of me they used and then grimacing at it, I then scroll to the actress, Camila Mendes and I grin because I love Riverdale and always try to get up to date on it when my father's asleep and it's just me and my laptop then I scroll down to the rock band he was talking about and my heart does some weird forward roll in my chest.
Staring up at me from the screen are four men, all of them beautiful in their own way, their eyes lined with make up, their arms covered in various tattoos. It's such a different look to I'm used to that I can't tear my eyes away and there's one face in particular that's pulling me in. He's stood right in the middle, his hair sculpted in almost a quiff, his emerald coloured eyes lined in black makeup, his chest peaking out from under a white shirt that's open almost to the navel, an array of necklaces hang around his neck and he wears a ring on almost every finger
"What has you drooling?" asks Nina, my assistant and I immediately shut down Instagram and lock my phone in case my father happens to see what I was looking at, he would never approve of me looking at a band like Particular Taste especially the way I had been looking at the singer.
"Oh nothing" I lie and sit back in my seat, looking out the window as the world wizzes by, my day a little bit brighter with thoughts of the men... or man I'm about to meet .
