Broken Records | Tayley

Chapter 29: Back on the road

Hayley's POV

The day had finally arrived. We were about to kick off the tour, but instead of the usual excitement, I was filled with an uncomfortable mix of dread and anxiety. It wasn't just the idea of performing in front of thousands of fans again—it was the setlist. The songs that once poured out of me with so much emotion now felt like they belonged to someone else, someone who no longer existed.

I was sitting in the dressing room, staring at the setlist taped to the mirror. "The Only Exception," "Still Into You"—all of them were tied to memories of Chad, to the love I thought would last forever. But now, they felt like ghosts haunting me every time I sang the lyrics.

Taylor walked in, his presence calming as always. He didn't say anything at first, just sat next to me and studied my expression. I knew he could see the worry etched on my face.

"You okay?" he finally asked, his voice gentle.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I don't know. It's just...these songs. They don't feel like mine anymore. I wrote them for Chad, and now it's like I'm singing someone else's story. It feels like I don't own them anymore. It feels... wrong."

Taylor nodded, understanding without me needing to explain further. "I get it. It's hard to go back to those moments when everything's changed. But remember, those songs are part of your journey. They show how much you've grown, even if the memories are painful. They tell your story."

I looked at him, his steady gaze making me feel a little less lost. "Yeah, but what if I can't do it? What if I just stand up there and freeze?"

He took my hand, squeezing it lightly. "You won't freeze, Hayley. You're strong, and you've faced tougher things than this. And if you need it, I'll be right there with you, holding your hand until you're ready to let go."

His words eased some of the tension knotted in my chest. I nodded, trying to believe in myself as much as Taylor believed in me.

As the time drew closer for us to head out on stage, Taylor stayed by my side, just as he'd promised. We walked hand in hand to the edge of the stage, where we'd have to part ways before stepping into the spotlight. The crew buzzed around us, making final adjustments, but all I could focus on was the warmth of Taylor's hand in mine.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice soft but encouraging.

I took a deep breath, nodding. "Yeah. Ready as I'll ever be."

With one last squeeze of my hand, Taylor gave me a reassuring smile. "You're going to be amazing. Just remember, these songs are yours. They're part of who you are, no matter how much things have changed."

I nodded, his words echoing in my mind as I stepped onto the stage. The lights, the crowd, the energy—it all hit me at once, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, I focused on the steady presence of Taylor just behind me.

The lights dimmed, and the crowd erupted into cheers. The familiar notes of our opening song filled the air, and I felt the weight of the past few years pressing down on me. But as I began to sing, something shifted. The songs were still tied to memories of Chad, but I started to reclaim them, reshaping them into something new, something that belonged to me once again.

It wasn't easy. Every line of "The Only Exception" tugged at old wounds, but instead of letting it pull me under, I focused on Taylor. Whenever I felt the anxiety creeping back in, I'd glance over at him. He was always there, giving me that reassuring smile, mouthing, "You're doing great" or "You've got this."

The turning point came halfway through the set. We were about to start "Still Into You," a song that had once felt so joyful and true, but now felt like a lie. I hesitated for a split second, the lyrics catching in my throat. But then, I caught Taylor's eye. He gave me that smile, the one that said everything without needing words. "You're a rockstar, baby," he mouthed, and somehow, it was enough to push me through.

I sang the song, but it wasn't for Chad anymore. It was for me—for the strength it took to walk away from something that wasn't right, and for the people who helped me find myself again. I poured all that emotion into the performance, and by the time the song ended, I felt lighter, freer.

The rest of the show flew by in a blur of lights, music, and adrenaline. When the final notes rang out and the crowd's cheers filled the arena, I felt a surge of pride. I'd done it. I'd taken those songs back, made them mine again.

Backstage, as the adrenaline started to fade, I found Taylor waiting for me. He was leaning against the wall, his guitar slung over his shoulder, and that same supportive smile on his face.

"You were incredible," he said as I walked over to him.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the performance. "I couldn't have done it without you."

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "You did all the hard work, Hayley. I just reminded you of what you already knew."

I looked up at him, and in that moment, everything felt right. The music, the band, the stage—it was where I belonged. And with Taylor by my side, I knew I could face whatever came next.

We stood there for a moment, just soaking in the afterglow of the show. Then, with a soft smile, Taylor leaned down and gave me a quick kiss, just like he had before. It was brief, but full of all the emotions we didn't need to say out loud.

When he pulled away, he squeezed my hand one last time before slipping out the door. The crew was starting to pack up, and the reality of the tour was settling in. But I felt ready for it now, stronger than before.

As I caught my reflection in the mirror, I saw someone who had been through hell and back but had come out the other side stronger. The songs might have been written for someone else, but tonight, they were mine. And with Taylor's support, I knew I could keep going, one show at a time.