Tayvis one-shots (3)

Steady Hands

The energy of the stadium buzzed through the walls of the dressing room, vibrating in the air like static electricity. Taylor sat in front of her mirror, her reflection staring back at her. She looked the part—perfectly styled hair, flawless makeup, her shimmering costume waiting on a nearby rack. But inside, she felt far from ready.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she tried to take deep breaths to calm herself down. But the pressure tonight was unbearable. The fans were louder than ever, social media had been relentless with its critiques and demands, and every performance felt like it carried the weight of her entire career. This show was no different. It was supposed to be magic, a night that people would talk about for weeks to come. But right now, all she felt was dread.

Taylor stood abruptly, pacing around the small room. She wrung her hands together, the tremor in her fingers betraying her nerves. She'd been doing this for years, but the fear of failure never left her. What if tonight was the night she cracked? What if she forgot a line or missed a step? What if she simply wasn't enough?

She sank down onto the plush chair by her vanity, fighting the rising panic in her chest.

Just then, the door creaked open softly. Travis stepped into the room, a gentle presence amidst the chaos. He was still in his casual game-day attire, a T-shirt and jeans, but his demeanor was calm, strong. Taylor felt a surge of relief seeing him there, but she also tried to smile through her anxiety.

"Hey, superstar," he said softly, closing the door behind him. "You okay?"

Taylor looked up at him, her eyes betraying her inner turmoil. She didn't have to say anything; he knew immediately.

"Hey," he said again, this time softer, crossing the room and kneeling in front of her. He took her hands in his. "What's going on, babe?"

She squeezed his hands, feeling the steadiness in his grip as though it could ground her. "I just... I don't know, Travis," she confessed. "It's all so much tonight. The crowd, the pressure, everything. I just feel like... like I'm going to mess up. Like I'm going to let everyone down."

Travis looked at her, his brow furrowing in concern. "You're not going to let anyone down," he said firmly. "You're incredible. You've been doing this for years, and you always blow everyone away. Why would tonight be any different?"

Taylor sighed, her fingers tightening around his. "It's just... some nights, it all feels heavier than others, you know? And tonight, it just feels like the weight of everything is crushing me."

Travis's expression softened even more. He reached up to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Listen to me, Tay. You've got this. You always do. And if you stumble? It's okay. Everyone in that stadium loves you. They're there because you mean something to them. One little mistake won't change that."

She looked into his eyes, feeling the sincerity in his words. It wasn't just empty reassurance—he really believed in her, even when she couldn't believe in herself.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

Travis smiled, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here with you every step of the way. And no matter what happens out there, I'll be proud of you."

She nodded, her heart slowing just a little. His presence always had a way of calming her down, making everything feel less overwhelming.

"Come here," he said, pulling her to her feet and wrapping his arms around her. Taylor rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was a comforting sound, a reminder that there was something outside of the chaos of the show—something stable, something real.

After a few moments, she pulled back slightly, looking up at him. "Thank you," she said softly.

He cupped her face in his hands, smiling down at her. "Anytime, superstar."

Taylor smiled back, feeling a little lighter. She wasn't alone in this. Travis was always there to catch her when she fell, both literally and figuratively. And tonight, she needed that more than ever.

A knock on the door interrupted them, and her manager poked his head in. "Five minutes, Taylor," he said. "You ready?"

Taylor took a deep breath, glancing at Travis before looking back at her manager. "Yeah," she said. "I'm ready."

As the door closed, Taylor turned back to Travis, feeling a surge of affection for him. "Promise you'll be in the front row?" she asked, her eyes sparkling just a little.

Travis grinned. "I wouldn't be anywhere else."

She chuckled softly, the anxiety from earlier already fading. She gave him one last kiss before stepping toward the door. "See you out there, big guy," she teased.

He winked at her. "Go knock 'em dead, babe."

As she stepped out into the hallway, Taylor felt a renewed sense of purpose. Travis's words echoed in her mind, giving her the strength she needed to push through. She could do this. She had done it a million times before, and she would do it again tonight.

And no matter what happened, she knew Travis would be there, cheering her on.

With one last deep breath, she walked toward the stage, ready to face the music.

---

Backstage, Travis watched as she took her place in front of thousands of adoring fans. The roar of the crowd was deafening, but he could see the change in her. She was no longer the anxious woman who had been sitting in the dressing room just minutes before. She was Taylor Swift — confident, powerful, and untouchable.

And he couldn't have been prouder.