Operation Haylor

Chapter 4 (Written by Josh)

"Taylor who?" I asked, looking around.

"Taylor Swift, of course!"

I returned to earth with a bit of a headache. The name of the infamous country/pop singer was ringing in my ears. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was.

"Josh? Josh?"

Jordan's voice finally brought back my train of thought. I shakily stood up, my eyes still a bit blurry. After about a minute, my vision returned to normal.

Then I saw her.

She was standing at the opposite end of the room, talking on her cell phone. Her blonde hair was hanging down her back, a wave of pure gold against her light brown sweater. Even from the distance between us, I could visualize her sea-blue eyes as if we were only a few inches apart.

Taylor Swift.

I felt my knees going weak once again, but I forced myself to remain calm. I suddenly realized that the studio manager was laughing uproariously. "Hey Tay! I think you have a fan here!"

Taylor laughed and slipped her phone into her purse. She began walking towards us. My hands began to shake. This can't be happening...

"Hi! I'm Taylor." She was right in front of me now. She held out her hand.

Ha. As if I don't know who you are! I took her hand. Oh, if I could only tell you how I feel about you! You have been in my head...my thoughts...my dreams for three years now. Every time I hear your voice on the radio, I just want to see you, hold you, sing to you all the songs I've written with your face in my mind.

We were still holding hands. My breath was coming in bursts.

Taylor...you're the music in my ears. You will be my echo through the years. Can you not see? Can you not see how much I care?

"I...I'm Josh. Nice to meet you."

She smiled. Her teeth were so white and perfect, framed by her moist red lips. Her lipstick was not as red as usual, but I liked it this way. She looked casual...yet still breathtaking.

"My goodness Josh! Your hands are so cold!"

Taylor was still holding my hand. I was trying so hard not to stutter. "Yeah, I'm known for having cold hands."

She was looking in my eyes now. "I hope it doesn't reflect your heart." She gave me a wink.

I managed a smile. "No, my heart is quite...quite warm."

Our eyes were still locked. Was I imagining things? Or was she having trouble finding the right words as well? She finally responded with: "I bet. I mean, I bet it's warm."

We finally dropped hands. For one horrifying second, I wondered if this would be the end of our conversation. We couldn't separate now. I had waited for this my whole life. I could hear the studio manager talking to our band manager off to my left. Jordan was whispering with Bryson, our drummer, off to my right. I was sure they were talking about me, but I didn't care. I have to stall for more time.

Once again, I wondered if I was imagining things. But Taylor didn't seem to be in a hurry either. Maybe...maybe...maybe... I refused to let my mind jump to conclusions. "So..." What should I say? "Were you recording a song just now?"

She nodded. "Yeah, Harry and I wrote a song together. But we're so darn busy, we decided to record our vocals separately."

Harry. Of course. I nodded.

Taylor motioned towards the recording room. "What about you? Is this your first cut?"

"My first what?"

She laughed. "Your first cut. Like, are you cutting your first record?"

I'm such an idiot. "Yes! Yes, this is our first record. We've done a lot of home recordings, but this is my first time in a professional recording studio."

Taylor's phone vibrated loudly in her purse. "I have to leave," she confessed. Is she disappointed? I couldn't help but wonder. Before I knew what I was doing, I fished my own phone out of my pocket.

"Could...could I have your number? Could I call you sometime?"

This was it. This will decide our future. My hands were shaking like crazy.

Taylor hesitated. "Well...I'm not supposed to give my number to anyone outside of a specific circle." She looked down at the floor, then met my gaze with a smile. "But I want to make an exception here. So yes, I'll give it to you."

Five minutes later, my band began cutting our first record. Regardless of whether we had written a hit song or not, I was walking on air for the rest of the day. Taylor called me later that evening, and we talked for almost an hour about nothing in particular.

I remember hanging up with the thought, Wow...she likes spaghetti!

Yes...I was truly walking on air.