This is gonna be multiple parts just so you know 😉😊
Taylor leaned against the door of her hotel room, letting out a long breath as she rubbed her temples. The concert had been exhilarating, the crowd electric, but now that the adrenaline was fading, the familiar sense of exhaustion and anxiety was creeping in. She dropped her bag on the floor and moved slowly toward the bed, her legs feeling heavier than they should have. It wasn't just physical fatigue, though. There was a weight pressing on her chest, an unease she couldn't shake.
She sat down and stared at her phone for a moment. As usual, there was a call waiting from Travis. Their post-show chats had become a comforting routine while she was on tour, but tonight, a pit formed in her stomach at the thought of picking up. Still, she couldn't ignore him—not after the kind of day she'd had.
Taking a deep breath, she swiped to answer.
"Hey, babe," she said, her voice more tired than she meant for it to be.
"Hey, superstar," Travis's deep voice came through, warm and familiar. "Just watched some of your performance clips. You killed it out there."
"Thanks," Taylor murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her exhaustion. "It was a good show, but I'm wiped."
"You sound like it," Travis said, his voice softening with concern. "You doing okay? I know tour can be brutal."
Taylor bit her lip. She didn't want to lie to him, but the truth felt too heavy, too complicated. "Yeah," she replied after a moment. "Just the usual post-show crash."
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and Taylor could practically hear Travis's concern. "Did you at least eat something? What did Tree bring you for dinner?"
Her chest tightened, and she glanced over at the untouched tray of food sitting on the table—grilled chicken and vegetables. The sight of it made her stomach churn. She hadn't eaten since before the show, but she couldn't tell Travis that. She couldn't explain why food had become so hard for her lately.
"Uh, yeah," Taylor lied, forcing a casual tone. "I had some chicken tenders and iced tea. You know, the usual."
"Chicken tenders, huh?" Travis chuckled softly. "Your go-to."
"Yeah," Taylor forced a laugh, hating how easily the lie slipped from her lips. "Can't resist."
"Well, as long as you're eating and taking care of yourself," Travis said, his tone light but edged with concern.
"Of course," Taylor replied, her heart sinking with guilt. "Promise."
They talked for a little while longer, Travis telling her about his day at practice, the guys on the team, the usual banter that she loved so much. But even as she listened, the weight of her lie pressed down harder. She hated this—hated lying to him, hated the spiral she felt herself in, and most of all, hated that she couldn't stop.
Eventually, they said their goodnights, and Taylor hung up, staring at the dark room around her. The guilt gnawed at her, and she found herself fighting the urge to cry. But instead of breaking down, she stood up and walked over to the untouched food tray, lifting the lid. The smell of the grilled chicken made her stomach twist again, and she pushed it away.
"I can't," she whispered to herself. "Not tonight."
---
A week later, after pushing through another grueling leg of the tour, Taylor decided she needed a break. She flew back to Kansas City, eager to spend time with Travis and hoping that being around him would help ease the growing anxiety she'd been battling. She had thought that maybe being away from the stress of the tour would help her find some balance, but it didn't take long before Travis started noticing things were off.
At first, it was little things. She wasn't eating much during meals, often pushing food around her plate, taking small bites but never finishing. When Travis asked, she'd brush it off.
"I'm still tired from the tour," she'd say with a smile. "My appetite's just off."
But after a few days, the pattern became more noticeable. Travis wasn't one to press too hard, but she could feel his growing concern. Every time he gave her that worried look, it chipped away at her resolve, but she wasn't ready to face the truth—not yet.
One evening, Travis invited a few friends over for dinner. Patrick, Brittany, and some of his teammates joined them, and Taylor knew she couldn't avoid eating in front of everyone. She couldn't risk them noticing anything was wrong, so she forced herself to eat everything on her plate, smiling and chatting along with the group as if nothing was amiss.
But the moment dinner was over, the anxiety came crashing back down. The fullness in her stomach was unbearable, and she excused herself to the bathroom, claiming she needed to freshen up.
Once the door was closed behind her, Taylor stood in front of the mirror, her heart racing. The guilt and anxiety were overwhelming, but there was only one way to make it go away. She knelt by the toilet, forcing herself to throw up, the feeling of control washing over her even as the guilt deepened.
When she was done, she flushed the toilet and stood, shaky and pale. She rinsed her mouth, trying to rid herself of the bitter taste of bile. Then, without thinking, she stepped onto the bathroom scale, her heart hammering in her chest as the number blinked up at her.
It wasn't low enough. It was never low enough.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she wiped them away quickly, refusing to let herself break down again. She couldn't fall apart—not when everyone was still in the other room. But the weight of the lies, the shame, it was all too much. She couldn't face Travis right now, so instead of returning to the living room, she quietly made her way to their bedroom.
She slipped under the covers without saying goodnight, hoping that no one would notice her absence for a while. As soon as her head hit the pillow, the tears she had been holding back spilled over, and she cried silently into the darkness, the guilt of what she was doing to herself, to Travis, suffocating her. She hated herself for lying to him, for pretending everything was fine when it wasn't. And yet, she didn't know how to stop.
---
Back in the living room, Travis was deep in conversation with his friends, but his thoughts kept drifting to Taylor. She had been gone for a while now, and a small knot of worry had started to form in his chest.
"Has anyone seen Taylor?" Patrick asked, glancing around the room.
Travis frowned, standing up. "I'll go check on her."
He walked down the hallway, stopping by the bathroom door. It was slightly ajar, and when he peeked inside, he found it empty. His frown deepened as he made his way to their bedroom.
Pushing open the door softly, he stepped inside and immediately spotted her curled up in bed. The light from the hallway cast a faint glow on her face, and Travis's heart clenched when he noticed the puffy redness around her eyes—she had been crying.
He approached the bed quietly, sitting down on the edge as he brushed a few strands of hair from her face. She stirred slightly but didn't wake, her breathing slow and steady, though her tear-stained cheeks made his chest ache.
Leaning down, Travis pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight, baby," he whispered. "I love you."
He pulled the covers up around her, tucking her in gently before standing up and heading back to the living room, where his friends were still chatting.
When he returned, everyone looked up expectantly. "Is she okay?" Brittany asked, concern flickering in her eyes.
Travis nodded, though the worry still weighed heavily on his mind. "Yeah," he said softly. "She's just gone to bed early. I think she's exhausted from the tour."
But even as he sat back down with his friends, Travis couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He didn't know what it was yet, but he was going to find out.
Requests ~~~>
