Snow On the Beach (Taylor Swift x Reader)

Endgame

My stomach churned with butterflies on the way to work a week later. I hadn't been to work in that period of time as we decided Taylor needed the extra time away. I hadn't seen her since and our messages had been very brief, meaning I didn't know how she was. I hadn't received any messages from Lizzie either and it was beginning to unsettle me. The longer we didn't communicate, the worse the argument would be when one of us eventually reached out. I was still going to wait, however, wanting an apology from her.

As soon as I walked into the studio, I was relieved to see a smile on Taylor's face.

"Hey," she said, "I missed you." We exchanged a brief hug.

"Me too," I said, "How was therapy?"

"It was great, I'm going three times a week now. I'm really hopeful that things will be better soon." I knew that healing took time but knowing that it wasn't better in that moment put me on edge a little. I hated knowing that she was still suffering and would be for some time.

We had finally reached a point in our music where our team was a lot more involved, our co-writers checking over the first drafts of the songs we were definitely going to use and making suggestions. For our producers, we had decided on Aaron Dessner and a one I had previously worked with that was well experienced in the genre we were creating for. The entirety of the morning was spent discussing the album and painting a clear picture of our vision to the producers who made plenty of notes. When the team decided it was time to take a break for lunch, I glanced over at Taylor anxiously.

"I feel like eating out for lunch today," she said, noticing my worry, silently reassuring me that she was going to try and eat. I nodded.

"Sounds great." We went to our favourite sandwich bar, picking our usual order. Everything was going smoothly until Taylor went to pay and her card declined. She frowned, trying her PIN which also didn't work.

"I'm not sure what's happening," she said to the person behind the counter. She checked the card reader, the message on the screen reading 'payment blocked'.

"That usually means the owner of the card has disabled it or placed a limit on it."

"But I am the owner of the card," she said before she was suddenly hit by a pang of realisation and panic. Had someone stolen her details? Was her bank account safe? Then I recognised her card, knowing it was one of her newer ones, meaning it was the joint one she had gotten last year. It was easy to start connecting the dots. Oh shit.

"I'll pay," I said. While I was paying, Taylor turned away from me so I couldn't see her face. Once she thanked the cashier, she grabbed her food and hurried away, forcing me to speed walk after her. "Slow down," I said, the shop's door slamming close behind me, "What's going on?"

"I don't know," she said, "I'll have to contact my bank when I get home." I could tell she was lying, I had known her too long to know it wasn't the truth. That card was for the joint account she had with Joe and he was responsible for blocking the card. I couldn't even begin to think why.

"Taylor, I know you're lying..."

"I'm going to finish my work at home," she snapped, turning around to face me, "Please don't follow me. Leave me alone." I stood there stunned, not expecting her raised voice and bluntness as she marched away from me, not looking back.

I felt hurt, not understanding why she was lashing out at me. Had I done something wrong? Perhaps she was just too upset to care. I didn't believe what was happening; why would Joe of all people restrict her from spending her own money? They had been happily together for six years without any problems except the usual, common ones. This was extremely weird.