The Alchemy

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince

I take a long, deep breath before stepping onto the platform. I can hear the crowd cheering for my song, "Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince." I force myself to smile, trying to sound just as enthusiastic as I did last year. I was genuinely happy then, but I blew it up, as usual. I don't understand why I did it. I really love Will, but I couldn't continue our relationship the way it was. We promised each other we'd keep things casual, not to fall for each other or get too attached, but I did. I wanted more with him, but he didn't. Even though we say "I love you," we're not officially boyfriend and girlfriend—he made that clear.

I try not to think about Will, but it gets harder and harder as the night goes on. Thankfully, there's a new set with new choreography and songs I've never performed before, which keeps my mind occupied. But by the end of the show, I feel awful, just wishing I could fall back into his arms, though that's not going to happen. We haven't spoken since our argument. The only words he's addressed to me have been things like, "This way, Miss Swift" or "Please come this way, Miss." That's it.

As I exit the stage, I see him, and he's not even looking at me. I pass him without a glance, not wanting him to know how deeply I'm hurting because he always senses when something is wrong. That's what makes him different—he really knows me and cares. Joe did too, at a certain point, but it's not the same. Will always knew exactly what I was thinking. Well, I thought he did. Maybe I hurt him too much and lost that connection.

I change out of my bodysuit into a quick short dress and heels. I redo my makeup and hair; I look cute. I think going to the club would be a good way to forget and get drunk.

"Where are you going?" a voice behind me asks.

"To the club," I reply without turning around, knowing who it is.

"Okay, I'll tell the chauffeur."

He doesn't even argue, which is unusual. He always argues with me when I change plans at the last minute. It only makes me angrier.

I get into the car without looking or talking to anyone. I don't understand why he didn't fight for us. Maybe it wasn't that important to him, or maybe I was really harsh during our argument. Sometimes I don't measure my words.

As I approach the club, a big guy wearing a white shirt, black pants, and glasses stops Will from following me.

"Sorry, man, you can't enter. You look like an FBI agent and might scare our clients," he says.

It's true; Will does look like a federal agent with his black suit and glasses. He's tall and kind of intimidating when he's mad, and right now, he does look a bit annoyed that he can't enter.

"I'll take off my vest and glasses and act like a regular person in this club, but I'm going wherever she goes, no matter what," he insists.

I erase the small smile that formed on my face before he can see it. I don't want him to know that it's affecting me.

"She's my boss, and it's my job to follow her," he adds, looking directly at me as if to say there's nothing personal about it.

I turn around and enter the club without looking back, not wanting him to see my disappointment. I don't even glance behind me to see if he's following. I find the first stool at the bar and order three shots. I down them quickly and head to the dance floor, trying to lose myself in the music and forget everything.

I spot Will in the corner of the room. He's taken off his jacket and glasses and has unbuttoned his shirt. He looks more relaxed, trying to blend in with the loud music. It's obvious he isn't comfortable and isn't used to this kind of environment. I laugh to myself when a man starts dancing closer and closer to me. At first, I feel uneasy, but I continue dancing, glancing at Will to see his reaction. He used to hate it when I did this before we got together. He's looking back at me, meeting my eyes but not moving.

I no longer want to dance with the random guy. Will's ignoring us completely. I dance a bit on my own but can't stop thinking about Will. I've had enough of this situation; I need to talk to him and apologize. Maybe he'll forgive me.

I make my way toward Will, pushing through the crowd. He's now chatting with a girl at the bar. They're actually laughing together, and he's not even looking for me. She's pretty, wearing a short black dress, and she's touching his arm and laughing. I hate seeing that. I hurry through the crowd, but the sea of people makes it hard to spot them. I finally reach them.

My heart stops as my breath becomes heavier. She's on her tiptoes, hands around his neck, lips against his. My hands are shaking. I turn and run out of the club, ignoring his calls.

I don't understand why I feel so betrayed. I'm the one who ended the relationship, but I... I love him. I'm so dumb to think he does too. I step outside and find a corner of the building, taking deep breaths to avoid passing out.

I'm having another panic attack. My vision blurs as tears fall down my cheeks. A hand on my stomach and another on my leg, I try to breathe deeply, but I collapse onto the ground. Two hands gently wipe my tears. He pulls me up against his chest, wrapping his arms around my trembling body with one hand on my head, comforting me.

My breathing becomes steadier as I press my head against his chest, trying to follow his rhythm. I wrap my arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"I know. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have flirted with her, and I definitely shouldn't have let her kiss me. But, Taylor, we can't get back together. I need more time to figure things out, and I think you do too," he whispers back.

I nod against his chest as he kisses the top of my head.

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Guys I wrote this during the show of tonight (london n5), we got London boy for the first time and a new midnight body suits!!!! like what ??!!!

Please tell me how you like it so far