Based on the fact that Patrick said that Taylor was the one who got him to grow his hair out
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The morning sun filtered through the curtains of the Kelce household, casting a warm glow across the bedroom where Taylor was just beginning to stir. She stretched lazily, her hand instinctively reaching out to the side of the bed where Travis should have been, but all she found was cool, empty sheets.
She opened her eyes, blinking sleepily as she realized Travis was already up. With a soft groan, she sat up, her hair a wild mess of curls from the night before. Running her fingers through the tangled strands, she frowned slightly at the unruly state of her locks. Her trusty straightener was calling her name from the bathroom.
Sliding out of bed, Taylor padded across the room, her bare feet making soft thuds against the hardwood floor. She glanced at the clock—still early enough to spend some quality time taming her curls before the day began. As she stepped into the bathroom, she felt a familiar sense of comfort wash over her. The bathroom was her little sanctuary, a place where she could take her time, where she could relax and get herself ready for whatever the day had in store.
But as she reached for the drawer where her straightener lived, her fingers met nothing but empty space. Taylor blinked, pulling the drawer open fully, only to find it completely devoid of her beloved straightener.
"What the...?" she muttered, confusion knitting her brow. She rifled through the other drawers, even checked the counter, but it was nowhere to be found. Panic began to bubble up inside her. She always kept her straightener in the same place, so where could it have gone?
Just then, she heard a deep chuckle from the doorway. She spun around to find Travis leaning against the doorframe, a mischievous grin on his face. He was holding her straightener, twirling it in his hands like a prize he'd just won.
"Looking for this?" he asked, his tone teasing.
Taylor narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Travis, what are you doing with my straightener? Give it back."
He shook his head, still grinning. "Nope. I've decided you're going to embrace your natural curls today."
Her mouth dropped open slightly. "Excuse me? I'm not just going to let my hair go wild, Travis. I need to straighten it!"
He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. "Why? I love your curls. They're beautiful, and they're you. Why not just let them be?"
Taylor stared at him, incredulous. "You've got to be kidding me. Travis, I have an image to maintain. You know how important this is to me!"
Travis pushed himself off the doorframe and walked over to her, setting the straightener on the counter but keeping his hand on it. "I get that, babe. I really do. But you're stunning just the way you are. I love waking up to your curly hair every morning. It's real, it's you. And honestly, I think the world deserves to see that too."
She huffed, her frustration growing. "This isn't up for debate. Give me my straightener."
He smirked, leaning in closer. "Nope. Sorry, not happening. Today, you're going curly. And who knows? Maybe you'll like it."
Taylor glared at him, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You're seriously not going to give it back?"
"Not today," he said, his voice dropping to a soft, almost challenging tone.
She bit her lip, torn between wanting to be mad at him and finding the whole situation slightly amusing. But then an idea sparked in her mind—a little revenge plan that would serve him right for pulling this stunt.
