The lips I used to call home (Kaylor)

The wedding (taylor's version)

Taylor sits in the soft glow of Electric Lady Studios, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on her chest. The once-familiar warmth of the studio is now suffocating. It's strange—she is strange, out of place. A room full of people who love her, who adore her, who look up to her, and yet, here she is, feeling like an outsider in her own life. Her palms sweat against the velvet seat, and every laugh, every smile, every clap feels like a dagger digging deeper. It all sounds like it's coming from underwater, the world muted and distant. Like none of it is meant for her, like none of this is real.

Her heart races, faster than it should for a wedding. Why does it feel like this? She knows the answer but wishes she didn't. She shifts in her seat, fingers tapping absentmindedly on her leg as if she can drum the anxiety out. But nothing helps. Nothing will help, not with her sitting a few rows ahead, close enough to touch but miles away in every way that matters.

Karlie.

Taylor can't stop herself from glancing at her. She doesn't want to, but her eyes betray her, trailing up to the familiar figure that haunts her even now, five years later. The sight of her is like ripping open a wound that never healed, a wound Taylor has spent years trying to forget, trying to bury under layers of success and fame and him.

Her hand slips into her boyfriend's, the man the world thinks is perfect for her. The man who adores her, who treats her with the kind of devotion everyone says she deserves. He loves her, she knows that. And she loves him—she does. But it's not the same. It never will be. Because love—real love, the kind that leaves you gasping for air, the kind that lights you up from the inside and makes the world spin differently—that was Karlie.

That was them.

She tries to focus on the ceremony, the couple standing up front exchanging vows, but all she can think about is Karlie in that maroon dress. Maroon. Of all colors, she had to wear that one. Of all the choices she could've made, she chose that. The color of their love. The color of the song Taylor wrote for the world, the one she'd performed a thousand times, each time pouring more of herself into it. A song that was supposed to be fiction, a song she told herself was just another story for the masses. But it wasn't. It was their story.

Every time she sang it, every time she heard the crowd roar in recognition, it was like pouring salt into the wound. It hurt, but she couldn't stop. She needed it—the pain, the sting, the reminder that what they had was real. The only thing that felt real anymore.

Her fingers tighten around his hand, but it doesn't feel right. It never feels right, not like it did with Karlie. She remembers how they used to fit together so perfectly, like puzzle pieces that were always meant to be. They used to say that to each other, late at night, when the world was quiet, and it was just them. Now, Taylor feels like she's playing a part, pretending to be someone she's not. The perfect girlfriend, the perfect star, living the perfect life.

But it's all a lie, isn't it?

No matter how much the world loves her, no matter how much he loves her, there's still a part of her that's missing. And that part will always be Karlie.

Her throat tightens as she swallows hard, trying to push the thoughts away, but they won't leave her alone. Why didn't I let her explain? The question burns in her chest, making her feel like she can't breathe. She had been so sure back then, so certain that Karlie had betrayed her, that she hadn't even waited for an explanation. She had slammed the door, blocked her out, erased her from her life in one swift, brutal move. She hadn't given Karlie a chance to defend herself, to tell her side of the story. And now?

Now, she doesn't know if she was right.

What if I was wrong? The thought hits her like a punch to the gut, leaving her winded, gasping for air. What if Karlie never betrayed her? What if all this pain, all these years of heartbreak, were built on a lie? A misunderstanding that Taylor had been too angry, too hurt, too blinded to question. She feels the weight of it pressing down on her, heavier than the awards, the accolades, the love of millions of fans. None of it matters. Not when Karlie is sitting there, still beautiful, still haunting her after all these years.