Taylor Swift One Shots <3

Brazil

A/N: hey yall i know brazil was a long time ago now but i really want to put out my take on that day through writing. what the stadium did was stupid and deadly, and i just want to clarify that i'm not writing this because i'd though it be 'cool' or anything like that. it was a tragic incident that i hope everyone caught in it recovered from <3

Taylor's POV

I could hear commotion from outside my dressing room. It was hot. Like really hot. Like 60°c hot. (140°f) The loud buzz of the fans in my room was the only hint that i even had fans in here as it was still sweltering. I was frantically trying to figure out a way to convince the stadium to postpone or even cancel the show if it came to it. Tree was working her ass off too, I could hear her voice in the hallway as she paced, desperately making phone calls. 

"Taylor? You have 30 minutes," Tree opened the door, her head peaking around the frame.

"I'll be ready, don't worry," I assured her, "Here, stay in here. It's somewhat cooler compared to outside."

As much as she would hope i wouldn't, I heard Tree sigh with relief. If one of the strongest women I know couldn't even stand this heat, then how could the young fans in the audience? Tree sat down on the couch opposite my chair.

"So, I've done everything. The stadium is refusing to postpone and refusing to open the vents or hand out water," Her eyes skimmed her phone and her brow furrowed as she wildly texted someone.

"That's utter madness, I'll sue if I have too," I told her, tweaking the fan next to me onto a slightly stronger level. Trying to keep cool in heat is hard because if you overwork your devices they send the power out, and many devices are currently in use. 

"Seems the stadium has the same idea, If you refuse to go on they're threatening to sue for up to half a million."

"Nonsense, I'll do this show for their selfish, money-hungry asses and then try to postpone the next ones."

"Just warning you, they have lawyers powerful as yours, if not more powerful."

"I don't care, this is putting me, my crew, my dancers and my fans in incredible danger. If they won't let me postpone the shows then I will sue." 

Tree smiled at me from over the screen of her phone, "I have zero regrets about working with you."

...

As the stage rose up, higher, higher until reaching beneath my dancers sails, I could already feel myself sweating. The stadium had closed vents, refused water and seemed to be lazy with medical attention. But, I was still putting on a show for these people. They were risking their lives as much as I'm risking mine. They deserve a full show.

 The setting sun caused blazing heat on the stage, making the Lover era hot and uncomfortable. 

Fearless was boiling, I could feel sweat dripping down my back and legs as I performed. My guitar felt balmy and blistering to touch. It felt as if my arms and fingers would burn touching the rhinestones. 

As the sun dipped lower in the sky for Evermore, the heat showed no mercy. Keeping the same, steady temperature  of a sweet 60°c. (140°f) The Willow cape stuck to my arms because of sweat and the keys on my piano became slippery after a mere minute of touch. 

The bodysuit for Reputation had its sleeve that stuck to my skin like tar. The microphone felt slimy in my hand and after my iconic knee drop I could see wet patches of sweat on the stage. Inside the boxes my dancers were panting heavily and I was making small signals to them to check if they were ok. 

For Speak Now I wore my long, blue ball gown without sleeves. As my eyes scanned the crowd I could see them smiling through the pain, their wrists held high to show their bracelets and blinking watch-like bands that created the unique patterns in the crowd. Their support was everything. 

The bouncy, energetic Red performances killed me. The shirt and bodysuit for 22, I knew you were trouble and We are never ever getting back together we're ok, but, the cloak for All Too Well made me sweat hard. Even though the performance kept movements to a minimum I could still feel sweat dripping down my arms. During the outfit change backstage I found myself asking for water multiple times, my team giving me a bottle but telling me to drink it slowly so I don't feel sick. Whilst I followed their advice I still felt dehydrated and parched. 

During Folklore the long dress stuck to my legs like a clingy toddler. Running around the stage during August I had thought for sure the audience would hear my pants. My dancers looked exhausted and I wished I could just send them home to sleep. 

In 1989 the bright, full-on dancing made my body crawl with flaming heat. My dancers were pushing through as hard as me, their faces looked happy but if you looked closing the only thing you would be able to see was the longing to be plunged into an ice bath. 

The Acoustic dress wrapped around my body, smothering it like a glove. I could feel my guitar strap slip off my arm as I played. The piano keys were sweltering hot, and I would have blisters on my fingers after, but I played on. Even the crowd was heavily feeling the effects. The cheers that erupted when I started playing were delighted, but I could tell they weren't as vibrant as normal. The vibrations through the stage felt less, less bouncy, less bubbly, less everything.

As Midnights rolled around the night was at its hottest. To push through I had to keep reminding myself it was the last era, then I was done. At this point in the night I felt as if i may faint. I pushed my shoulders back and pulled my head back to look at the sky. A technique I had been taught to use if I ever felt the need to faint. 

A/N: ok i'm leaving it here i might do a part 2 but i've been writing for so long and i had to do a surprising amount of research for synonyms on the word 'hot' 😭 we'll probably not surprising but yk. anyway hope you enjoyed i'm a slow typer so this took me 45 minutes 💀 (i can write 5 pages on paper in that time lmao)