Broken Records | Tayley

Chapter 30: Happy Birthday, Mr York!

*December 17th 2024*

Hayley's POV

It's hard to believe how much has changed in just a few short years. As I look around our new home—a place we've filled with laughter, music, and so much love—I can't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. Every corner of this house tells a story, a testament to the journey Taylor and I have been on together. The sun-drenched kitchen where we share coffee in the mornings is more than just a room; it's where we plan our days, dream about the future, and savor those quiet moments before the world starts spinning too fast. The cozy den, where Alf curls up with us in the evenings, has become our sanctuary. We've spent countless nights here, wrapped in each other's arms, talking about everything from music to life to the silly antics of our dog. It's a space that feels safe, warm, and undeniably ours.

Building a house together wasn't just a step forward in our relationship; it was a celebration of everything we've overcome. Each brick, each stroke of paint, each piece of furniture reflects a choice we made together—a physical manifestation of the love and effort we've poured into building our lives. Paramore is thriving, stronger than ever, and so are we. The band's music has evolved, just as we have, becoming a reflection of who we are now rather than who we were. And while the world may know we're together, we've kept our relationship private, intimate—only sharing the best parts with those who truly matter. This balance has allowed us to stay grounded, to protect what we have without feeling the pressure of public scrutiny.

Taylor has come such a long way. Watching him grow more confident, especially in interviews and on stage, has been one of the greatest joys of my life. I remember how he used to struggle with anxiety, how the spotlight felt like too much at times. Now, there's a quiet confidence about him that wasn't there before. He still gets nervous sometimes—hell, don't we all?—but he's learned how to channel it, to use it as fuel rather than fear. And I'm always there, just like he's always been there for me. We've learned to communicate in ways that don't always require words; a single look is often enough to convey a thousand unspoken sentiments.

Life isn't perfect, but it's ours, and that makes it pretty damn close.

Tonight, we're celebrating Taylor's 35th birthday. It's going to be special, just the two of us, at a restaurant that's become our little escape from the world. We've been there a few times, always finding solace in the dim lights and soft music, where we can just be ourselves without any pretense. And later... well, he has no idea what's waiting for him when we get back home. I've spent weeks planning the surprise party, coordinating every little detail with the help of our friends. It's been hard to keep it a secret, especially when all I want to do is share my excitement with him, but the look on his face when he sees everyone will be worth it.

I watch Taylor as he gets ready, his reflection in the mirror calm and composed. There's a certainty in his movements that wasn't always there—a reflection of the inner peace he's found over the years. He catches me looking, and that familiar grin spreads across his face, the one that makes my heart skip a beat every time.

"Ready to go?" he asks, his voice warm and steady.

"Yes," I reply, slipping my hand into his as we head out. His hand fits perfectly in mine, a small reminder of all the times we've walked side by side, through good times and bad.

The restaurant is perfect. We arrive to find our usual table tucked away in the corner, offering us just the right amount of privacy. The lighting is soft, casting a warm glow over the room, while the faint hum of music plays in the background. As we sit down, I feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. It's not often that we get to do this—just the two of us, away from everything and everyone. No schedules, no demands, just us.

"Happy Birthday, Mr. York," I say, raising my glass to him with a teasing smile.

He chuckles, the sound rich and full. "Thanks, Mrs. Williams. Or should I say Miss?" He quirks an eyebrow, that playful glint in his eye making my heart swell.

We fall into easy conversation, the kind that flows naturally between two people who know each other inside out. We talk about everything and nothing all at once. Taylor tells me about a new guitar riff he's been working on, his eyes lighting up as he describes the sound he's chasing. I share some ideas I've had for our next album, bouncing thoughts off of him like we always do. There's a freedom in these moments, talking about music without the pressure of deadlines or expectations, just two people who love what they do and love doing it together.

As the night goes on, our conversation turns more personal. Taylor opens up about how much he's changed over the past few years, how he's learned to manage his anxiety and feel more comfortable in his own skin. His voice is soft and sincere, every word carrying the weight of his journey.

"I couldn't have done it without you," he says, looking at me with a depth of emotion that takes my breath away.

I reach across the table, taking his hand in mine. "You've always had it in you. I just helped you see it."

We talk about the future—what it might hold for Paramore, for us. The band is in a great place right now, and we're excited about where we're headed. Taylor mentions how happy he is with where we are, but there's a hint of something else in his voice, something that sounds a lot like hope. I know what he's thinking about, and it makes me smile. Soon, I think.

Soon.

The waiter brings out a decadent dessert—a rich chocolate mousse with a touch of gold leaf—and we share it, laughing as we try to feed each other bites. The sweetness lingers on my tongue, but it's the look in Taylor's eyes that leaves me feeling warm and content. It's one of those moments where everything feels perfect, and I wish I could freeze time, just to stay here a little longer.

When we arrive back home, Taylor is still floating on the high of our dinner, completely unaware of what's about to happen. I unlock the door and push it open, stepping aside to let him walk in first.