band-aids don't fix bullet holes

{56} painful confrontation

TW: mentions of self-harm and ED

Taylor's POV:

"Uh...okay..." I answer with a slight frown upon my face. "Listen, if it's about the fact that I hardly reached out, I'm sorry, it's just...the tour, being a mother and everything...it's a lot...."

Blake lets out a quiet sigh while fiddling with the necklace around her neck.

"Taylor...stop fooling yourself. It's not about the fact that you didn't reach out, it's about why you didn't reach out. I have a feeling you're just running away from every possible confrontation you might have to face and you know that I'm the first one who would confront you, so you just went into silent-mode."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I shrug it off, even though I know exactly what she is talking about, because, comfortable or not, it's the truth.

"You are clearly still struggling and I can see that, whether we are face to face or not. I don't know if you're aware, but we are famous people, which means you're all over the media all the time, plus I'm watching every livestream of your shows. I can tell that you're not yourself. I can tell that you're losing pound after pound. I can tell that you are using a little more make-up than usual to cover up your tear-stained cheeks. Maybe others don't, but I see you, Taylor." The actress explains, silent tears forming in her eyes.

"Blake..." I shake my head and offer the blonde a genuine smile. "I think you're blowing this out of proportion. I'm fine."

"Show me your arms then."

"What?"

"Show me your arms." She repeats with a stern voice, her piercing blue eyes demanding. "If you're so fine then I'm sure your scars have faded, so prove to me that's the case."

"T-this...this is insane, no. I'm not go-" Before I can finish the sentence, the blonde gently grabs my arms und pulls up the sleeves of my sweater, whereupon her jaw drops, forcing her to cover her mouth with one of her hands so she doesn't let out an echoing scream.

"Taylor...." She mumbles. "W-what...w-w-why...I-I...."

Obviously ashamed I instantly cover my arms again, not daring to look my friend in the eyes.

"I didn't know it was that bad, Tay. Your entire arms...are covered in cuts...fresh cuts." Blake sums up, before inhaling deeply. "This...you can't keep hurting yourself like this..."

"Why? Nobody can stop me." I answer, my voice raw and cold.

The actress gets up and heads up the stairs. A few seconds later she returns with a scale in her hands, setting it down in front of the sofa.

"I wanna know it all, Taylor. I'm done watching you kill yourself. Step onto that scale." The blonde instructs, gesturing toward the digital scale on the floor.

"My weight is none of your business, Blake. Please don't make me step onto that thing." I protest.

"It is my business, since you're clearly not capable of taking care of yourself and I'm your best friend. I was patient, I really was. I gave you time, I gave you space. You promised to try and get better, but look at you, it's worse than ever." She takes a deep breath. "I care about you and I just want to help you. So please, I need to know what we're dealing with."

Reluctantly I force my body up and step onto the scale, my hands shaky, my heart pounding. I know my weight, that's not the point, I just don't want anybody else to know.
When the number comes to a hold, Blake can't hold back a gasp.

"Oh god." She lets out, once she has found her voice again. "You're at least 50 pounds lighter than me and we're almost the same height, Tay."

"So what?" I shrug after sitting back down on the couch. "I'm still too fat."