Taylor Swift and Tree Paine Oneshots

Messed up foot

This is not a part 4 of broken foot or a sequal to it.

Tree Paine sat at the head of the meeting room, flipping through her notes, ready for yet another day of planning and logistics for Taylor Swift's upcoming project. Everything seemed routine, right down to the perfectly timed arrival of Taylor herself. But when the door opened, Tree looked up to see something entirely unexpected: Taylor hobbling in on crutches.

Tree's immediate reaction was shock. She'd seen Taylor power through pain, exhaustion, and all sorts of challenges without so much as a complaint. Seeing her like this—clearly struggling to move—was a side of Taylor she had never witnessed before.

"Taylor?" Tree's voice laced with concern, her eyes widening. "What happened?"

Taylor, trying to balance on her crutches while managing the door, let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, this?" she said, attempting a casual tone, though the strain in her voice was evident. "Just another surgery. You know, the usual."

"The usual?" Tree blinked, completely taken aback. "What do you mean by that?"

Taylor, her usual smile faltering slightly, moved toward the table, awkwardly positioning herself before resting her crutches against the side of the chair. Her foot was entirely bandaged and covered, hidden beneath layers of protective fabric. There was no visible sign of the scars Tree might have expected, but the sight of Taylor so clearly out of commission was enough to raise every red flag in Tree's mind.

"I've had a lot of surgeries on my foot over the years," Taylor admitted, her voice dropping slightly. "It's been an ongoing thing."

Tree's confusion deepened. "Why didn't you ever mention this before?"

Taylor hesitated, her fingers lightly tapping the table before she finally spoke again. "I didn't really think it was necessary. I mean, what's the point? It's just another surgery. I've had more of them than I can count by now."

Tree was silent for a moment, processing Taylor's words. She had always known Taylor to keep things close to her chest, but this felt different. She could sense that this wasn't just about the physical pain—there was something deeper at play.

"Taylor," Tree said softly, leaning forward, "this is the first time I'm hearing about any of this. You've never said a word."

Taylor glanced away, avoiding Tree's gaze. "It's just... it's part of my life now. I've gotten used to it, so I didn't think it was something I needed to talk about."

Tree frowned, her concern growing by the second. "Used to what? How many surgeries are we talking about?"

Taylor sighed, leaning back in her chair as if the weight of her words had been pressing down on her for too long. "I don't know, maybe ten? Fifteen? I've lost count." She paused, her fingers idly tracing the edges of the crutches. "I had a bad injury a while back. Broke my foot—badly. They had to reconstruct it, and things didn't heal the way they were supposed to. So, I've had surgery after surgery trying to fix it. But it's never really been... fixed."

Tree felt a lump form in her throat as she listened. "Taylor... why didn't you tell me?"

Taylor shrugged, the casualness of the gesture betraying the heavy truth behind her words. "Because it didn't feel worth mentioning. I didn't want it to seem like I was making excuses or slowing down. I'm Taylor Swift—I'm supposed to keep going, no matter what."

Tree felt her heart twist at that. The pressure Taylor must have put on herself, the burden of having to always be perfect, always strong. She reached out across the table, her hand resting on Taylor's arm. "You don't have to hide this from me. From anyone. It's okay to need help, or to admit that something hurts."

Taylor's eyes softened, but there was still a wall up, a reluctance to let herself be vulnerable. "I just didn't want people to see me differently," she murmured. "I didn't want anyone to think I couldn't handle things."

Tree's gaze dropped to Taylor's foot, still completely hidden beneath the bandages and fabric. "What kind of surgeries are we talking about?"

Taylor gave a bitter laugh. "They've had to completely open my foot multiple times. I've got scars all over it—on the top, the sides, the back. It's pretty brutal. But it's become... normal for me. I've learned how to walk without anyone noticing the limp, but after a surgery like this? I can't hide it."

Tree shook her head in disbelief. "Wait, you have a limp. How long have you been dealing with this?"

"A few years," Taylor replied, her voice now a whisper. "It started with the injury, but it's been one surgery after another ever since. I'm used to it, though. I don't even think about it most of the time."

Tree's chest tightened. How had Taylor managed to hide this for so long? The fact that she had gone through all of these surgeries, lived with all of this pain, and still managed to be the Taylor Swift the world knew—always smiling, always performing, always pushing forward—was both incredible and heartbreaking.

"Taylor, you shouldn't have to just... get used to this," Tree said gently. "You shouldn't have to hide it, especially from people who care about you."

Taylor's eyes flicked to Tree, and for a moment, there was a flash of vulnerability—raw and unguarded. "It's just easier that way. I didn't want to deal with the questions or the pity. I didn't want people to look at me and think, 'Oh, poor Taylor, she can't handle it.'"

"No one's going to think that," Tree insisted, her voice soft but firm. "You're allowed to be human. You're allowed to have scars."

Taylor exhaled, the tension in her shoulders slowly releasing. "I don't know how to do that. I've spent so long trying to be perfect, trying to keep everything together, that I don't even know what it looks like to just... be."

Tree nodded in understanding, her heart aching for her friend. "You don't have to figure it out alone. I'm here, okay? I'm not going anywhere. And you don't have to hide this anymore—not from me, not from anyone."

Taylor gave a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Tree."

They sat there in silence for a moment, the weight of Taylor's unspoken pain hanging in the air between them. But for the first time in a long time, Taylor felt like she didn't have to carry it all on her own.