yours sincerely, daisy. - taylor swift

05

The afterparty was in full swing by the time Daisy arrived. Music pulsed through the dimly lit venue, a contrast to the formal atmosphere of the Grammys just hours before. People were looser now—drinks in hand, laughter rising above the low thrum of conversation. A place where celebrities could let their guard down, at least a little.

Daisy slipped through the crowd, Dylan somewhere behind her, already caught up in a conversation with an industry friend. She wasn't much for these kinds of parties—too loud, too chaotic—but she had to make an appearance. It came with the territory. Besides, being an A-list actor meant she had to navigate spaces like this, just as she did at every red-carpet event.

She took a sip of her drink, scanning the room. Every corner was packed with familiar faces—musicians, actors, producers, agents. People she knew by name or had worked with at one point or another. But her gaze kept darting to one spot across the room.

Taylor Swift.

Taylor was standing near the bar, surrounded by a group of people—her team, maybe, or friends, Daisy wasn't sure. She looked different here. Less polished, somehow. Still stunning, still every bit the star, but her guard was down just a little. Her blonde hair was loose, her red lipstick from earlier slightly faded. Yet, even in this crowded room, she stood out, like she always did.

Daisy tried not to stare. It wasn't like she and Taylor had anything to do with each other beyond the brief, tense moments at the Grammys. They were just two people in the same industry, their lives running parallel but never truly intersecting.

At least, that's what she told herself.

She moved toward a quieter corner of the room, needing space from the buzz of the party. But even as she put distance between herself and the crowd, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. She turned her head, just enough to catch Taylor's gaze from across the room.

It was brief—so quick that Daisy almost wondered if she imagined it. Taylor's attention was elsewhere a moment later, her focus returning to the conversation she was having. But that single glance had left a mark, a flicker of something Daisy couldn't quite name.

She exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening around the glass in her hand. There was no reason for this. No reason for her heart to pick up speed just because Taylor had looked her way.

She moved further into the crowd, trying to get away from whatever had just passed between them. But it was like they were tethered—no matter where Daisy went, her awareness of Taylor lingered.

Time passed in a blur of conversation and noise. Daisy talked with producers, smiled at actors she hadn't seen in months, accepted compliments on her latest role. But her thoughts were never fully there. They were back at the moment when she had stood on stage, announcing Taylor Swift as the winner of Album of the Year. The way their fingers had brushed, the way Taylor had looked at her without really seeing her.