𝗧𝗔𝗬𝗟𝗢𝗥 𝗦𝗪𝗜𝗙𝗧 𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦

the fan

SUMMARY:
y/n, a dedicated swiftie, runs a popular social media account showcasing her edits and paintings of taylor swift. after being noticed by taylor nation, she's invited to the eras tour. throughout the concert, y/n repeatedly catches taylor's eye, leaving her flustered. backstage, taylor compliments y/n's art and admits she couldn't stop looking at her during the show. as y/n leaves, taylor runs after her to ask for her phone number, making the night even more surreal.

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Being a Swiftie was more than just a phase for me. I'd always admired Taylor Swift's storytelling and artistry, and I found ways to channel that admiration through my own creativity. I started editing photos, creating aesthetic video clips, and eventually started painting portraits of her—my small way of contributing to the fandom. I poured my heart into every post, and the account took off, gathering thousands of followers who resonated with my love for Taylor.

One day, something happened that made my entire world flip upside down. I posted one of my newest paintings—a portrait of Taylor in her "Folklore" era, surrounded by soft, muted colors and imagery—and Taylor Nation liked it. I screamed when I saw the notification, but what happened next nearly made me faint.

I got a DM from Taylor Nation. A DM. They told me they'd been following my account and loved the edits and paintings I'd been doing, and they invited me to the upcoming Eras Tour show. I couldn't breathe. Was this real life? Me, going to see Taylor Swift perform live, invited by Taylor Nation?

The day of the concert arrived, and I could hardly contain myself. When I arrived at the stadium, I was blown away by how close I was to the stage—practically in the front row. The energy was electric, and I felt like I was floating the entire time. I took a moment to take it all in, trying to convince myself that this was actually happening.

Then the lights dimmed, and Taylor appeared, beginning her set with "Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince." The crowd screamed, and I was caught up in the magic of it all. But then something strange happened during "My Tears Ricochet." Taylor was performing her emotional choreography, and when she lay on the ground, her head snapped up—and she locked eyes with me.

My heart stuttered. She couldn't be looking at me, right? There were thousands of people here. But the moment was unmistakable. She held my gaze for just a beat too long, and I felt my face heat up. I told myself it was a coincidence, but a part of me couldn't shake the feeling.

Throughout the night, it happened again and again. During "Vigilante Shit," when she sang with that intense, sultry energy, I caught her glancing in my direction—multiple times. Every time our eyes met, my heart raced a little faster. She couldn't be singling me out, could she?

As the concert went on, I tried to focus on the music, but I kept catching Taylor's eyes on me, her gaze lingering in a way that made my stomach do flips. I wasn't imagining it. Every time she looked at me, a small smile played on her lips, and it felt like there was something more behind those glances.

After the show, when I was still floating on the high of the night, one of the Taylor Nation reps came over to me. "Taylor wants to meet you," they said casually, as if they hadn't just dropped a bomb on my world.

I was led backstage, my nerves a chaotic mess, trying to wrap my head around what was happening. I was about to meet Taylor Swift in person. Before I could fully process the moment, she walked into the room, looking radiant even after the intense concert.

"Hey!" she said, her voice warm and familiar. "You're Y/N, right?"

I stammered out a yes, trying to keep my cool. Taylor smiled and took a step closer. "I've seen your posts. Your paintings are incredible. I'm obsessed with them. And your edits? Seriously, you have such an eye for this stuff."

I blinked, trying to comprehend the fact that Taylor Swift had seen my work—liked my work.

Then, as if to throw me off completely, she added, "You know, I recognized you from the stage tonight." My heart skipped a beat. "It was hard to keep my eyes off you," she said, her voice dropping just a little, her eyes twinkling. I felt my face heat up, trying to process what was happening.

I laughed nervously, unsure if she was joking. "Wait, really? I thought I was just imagining things."

Taylor smiled, a little more playfully now. "Oh, you definitely weren't imagining it. I noticed you during 'My Tears Ricochet'—you were right there, looking so shocked. It was cute." She was teasing me now, and I didn't know whether to laugh or melt.

I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks as she kept her gaze locked on mine, and I could swear there was a little bit of a flirtatious glint in her eyes. "I just... I mean, I didn't expect you to even see me, let alone... notice me."

"How could I not?" she said softly, her eyes scanning my face for just a second too long. "You stood out."

We talked for a few more minutes, and I could feel the tension between us—the way her words were laced with something more than just casual conversation. She kept complimenting my work, my creativity, even the way I'd blushed earlier during the concert.

As I left that night, my mind was spinning. Had I just spent the evening catching Taylor Swift's attention—both on stage and off? It felt like a dream, but the way she looked at me, the way she had spoken to me... it was something more than I could have ever expected.

As I walked out of the venue, my mind still spinning from everything that had happened, I tried to catch my breath. Meeting Taylor, hearing her say that she had noticed me on stage, that she couldn't keep her eyes off me—it was all too much. I couldn't stop replaying every glance, every word she'd said, wondering if I had misread the whole situation. Maybe she was just being nice... right?

I was almost at the exit when I heard footsteps behind me, quicker than the steady flow of fans leaving the show. I glanced over my shoulder, and my heart stopped when I saw Taylor—Taylor Swift—hurrying toward me, a look of determination on her face.

"Hey, wait!" she called out, slightly out of breath as she caught up with me. I turned fully to face her, trying to process what was happening.

"Taylor?" I asked, my voice shaky with disbelief.

She smiled, a little sheepish, as if she hadn't just sprinted across a stadium to catch up with me. "I, uh, forgot to ask for your number," she said, her voice soft but teasing, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "If you're okay with that?"

For a second, I just stood there, frozen in place. Taylor Swift wanted my phone number. I blinked, trying to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but she stood there, waiting patiently, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Oh! Yeah, of course," I stammered, fumbling to unlock my phone and hand it to her. My heart was racing again, my pulse pounding in my ears.

Taylor took my phone, her fingers brushing against mine as she quickly entered her number and handed it back to me. "Text me sometime," she said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I'd love to see more of your work... and maybe, you know, hang out?"

My brain short-circuited. I nodded, too overwhelmed to form a proper response, but the grin on Taylor's face told me she understood.

With one last playful glance, she gave me a small wave and turned back toward the venue, leaving me standing there with my phone clutched in my hand, my heart racing faster than ever. As she disappeared into the crowd, I looked down at my screen. Taylor Swift was in my contacts, and I could barely believe it.

What had started as a dream night just became the most surreal experience of my life.