basset hound nightgown t.s

Drop Dead Fred

I'm wearing a black trench coat, a black dress, and black loafers. I'm formal, classy, and a grieving sister. He picks me up in a sleek dark grey BMW. He makes a joke about the color of the car and my last name; I snicker only to be polite. He is nervous, leaving his jokes to be ludicrous and uneducated. I don't mind though, he's sweet and gentlemanly. 

I find his eyes familiar, and the shape of his jaw. I didn't notice it the first time we met. When we arrive at the restaurant, and he opens my car door I finally understand part of why Taylor feels so special with Travis. Freddie gives me the same treatment. I feel special, seen, princesses like. 

As my shoes hit the ground lights flash around us, paparazzi snapping money making shots of the two of us. He ignores them and grabs my hand. His hands are surprisingly soft and warm and much bigger than mine. I smile up at him bashfully and it makes him grin with excitement and pride. Like holding my hand makes him the special one. 

I am not surprised when I hear fans and paps calling out my name, telling me to pose, asking my questions I am not going to answer. It's when a decent amount of the surrounding crowd start shouting his name that I look at him again. My eyes tracing him for some sense of understanding. He does look familiar; I just can't quite place it. He googled my Wikipedia; I feel as though I should have given him a search. 

I've just been so tied up with planning my brother's funeral, with the gut-wrenching grief I honestly forgot. I don't even know his last name. I knew he was likely famous, based on his status of friendship with Taylor and Travis. Though I didn't think too hard on the topic. As he waves at the cameras, I deeply regret not overthinking that particular subject. 

We end up sitting at a little table in the back corner of the fancy dining room. He buys me a red wine and chooses a whiskey for himself. I look over at the slick bar with the prim bartenders behind it. There is a tall chalkboard with a colorful illustration of a cocktail, beside it a list of fruity drinks. I can't help but know Taylor would probably love most of them. Except for the third one. It has coconut, and she says that doesn't belong in a drink. I take note of the surroundings and decide I have to tell her about this place. 

"I'm so glad you could meet me tonight; truth is I fly back to London tomorrow". Freddie says snapping out of my Taylor trance. I nod to him, my heron lips meeting my glass as I sip the reddish, purplish liquor. I smile as I lean my head in my hand, my elbow on the table. My fingers fiddle with my hair as I try and pay attention. 

"Of course, anything for the cute British guy". I muse and his lips curl out into a dimple present smile. I can't help but smile in return. It's so infectious. "So uh, when will you be back in New York?" I add as I realize the fate of him living in another country. 

He takes a swig of his drink, the crystal glass reflecting light before his face grows serious. "I'll be back in a couple weeks; I have a shoot that will last a month or two here. Then I'll head back to London, and I'll just feel it out from there." He explains and I nod along giving him a sporting smile at the end, so he doesn't think I'm mad or disinterested. 

"Okie dokes, oh my goodness the steak looks so good!" I gush as a nearby table receives their food. Freddie just smiles at me expectantly. "What? what's wrong?" I ask worried something is wrong with my face or something I've said. 

"Your beauty and thrillingly gorgeous personality are going to make not staring at you hard, love" he replies, his British accent thick and enticing. I can't help but blush, scarlet and maroon filling my usually pale cheeks. 

"You're too kind". I answer after a waitress comes to take our orders. 

"So, tell me three random facts about yourself, let's get the ball rolling". He's so pretty, I've never thought of a man as pretty or beautiful, but he truly is. Colored nails, modern yet vintage fashion sense, fingers lined with chunky gold rings. He even showed up wearing lime green sunglasses. I enjoy the view. 

"Hmm, alright. I am very superstitious; my favorite flavor of ice cream is strawberry, and I have an unhealthy obsession with Becky Lynch." I entertain his curiosity with a lazy smile, and he listens whole heartedly. 

"Interesting, Becky Lynch is superior, though I disagree with the ice cream flavor. Vanilla is top tier." He answers as if I was at a job interview, and I laugh as our entrees come out. 

"Vanilla is so ordinary though, don't you want to be bold and different". 

"Oh love, have you tried gourmet vanilla from The Gargoyle Markets? It is technically vanilla bean flavor rather than just vanilla it's magnificent" he debates, taking a bite of extra cheesy, crisp garlic bread. 

"Can't say I have. What's The Gargoyle Markets?". I question, following his lead and taking a bite of my own slice of airy bread. 

"Lucile Grey, do you live under a rock. I need to show you around London better. It's one of my favorite places, I'd call it an eighth great world wonder." He eagerly leans forward excitement painted all across his beautiful features. 

"Well, I've never been to London" I explain, and his eyes practically fall out his skull. 

"Then I am flattered that I will get to be the first one to show you the greatest city on earth" he decides after a moment, smiling cheekily at me. 

"Alright Mr. Once I finish the eras tour. I'm all yours. Now it's your turn, tell me three facts about yourself". 

"Very well love. My nickname in school was drop dead Fred. I like dogs better then cats. And my favorite Taylor Swift song is back to December". 

At the mention of Taylor, I internally cringe. The date was going so well. But she just always crawls back into my heart and reminds me that I can distract myself. But I can never escape her grasp. I feel like someone she would write about in her songs. Which is why as my steak is brought out, I ask for a champagne to replace my empty wine. 

I chew my meat, it's tender and flavorful. I don't tell Freddie that my favorite Taylor song is happiness because I think if I continue to think about her, I will stand up and march to her apartment pouring rain, or freezing winds and confess my adoration and love for the blonde. 

"Drop dead Fred huh, you must've been a real charmer. It's good to meet a fellow dog person. All my friends are cat people" Taylor is a cat person. So is Cally. Not everything is about Taylor Lucile! For fucks sake. 

He chuckles deep in his throat "I sure was, and that's great when we get married and live together, we can have dog kids" He jokes, and I smile but scratch behind my ear uncomfortably. A sick feeling pitting in my stomach.  

,,,

The night has progressed better. We are at a nightclub enjoying drinks and dances. I've learnt his favorite color is mauve, and his mother owns a lavender shop. I also managed to sneak in the bathroom and google him. Realizing he is an incredibly famous actor and is in several movies I've watched while downing tubs of ice cream. 

We're dancing together on the light up strobe floor, when a remix of love story begins. Freddie spins me and smiles wider. Excited at the song being one of our mutual friends. He's happy, why shouldn't he be. He's unaware of the monstrous crush I have on her. 

I feel uneasy. Hearing Taylor sing about an affair that shouldn't happen. A love that people try and stop. Freddie sees the way my face drops. 

"If you're tired, I can drop you home Luce. You've had a big couple of days." He offers and I know his second comment is about my brother. Which is a topic he has thankfully avoided all night. 

I don't argue. Just nod as we walk out of the tumultuous nightclub.  

Taylor Alison Swift is going to kill me. 

Now I understand what the swifties feel.