tayvis ~ invisible string

is this the end of all the endings?

taylor's pov:

The roar of the crowd still echoed in my ears as I stepped off the stage, my heart pounding in my chest. Three hours. Three long, grueling hours of plastering on a smile, strumming chords, and hitting notes like I wasn’t falling apart inside. The adrenaline was wearing off fast, leaving me hollow and drained. I could feel my legs trembling, not from exhaustion, but from the weight of holding myself together for so long.

As I walked down the narrow hallway backstage, the buzz of crew members and congratulatory pats on the back barely registered. I nodded, smiled, and thanked them, but none of it felt real. My face still ached from the forced expressions I’d held on stage, a mask I’d perfected over the past few months. The fans didn’t need to know. They couldn’t know. To them, I was this strong, vibrant performer pouring myself into every song. But if they looked closely enough, they’d see it the cracks in the facade, the emptiness behind my eyes.

The breakup had torn through me like a storm I never saw coming. Six years. Six years of my life, of my heart, gone. Just like that. It wasn’t just the relationship that ended; it was the future I’d imagined, the person I thought I was. And when I tried to fill that void, to numb the pain with someone new, it only made things worse. The rebound it wasn’t supposed to mean anything. It was supposed to be a distraction. But instead, it pushed me deeper into the darkness, into this numbness I couldn’t escape from. The guilt, the shame it wrapped around me, suffocating me every time I was alone.

I found myself in the dressing room, the door closing behind me with a soft click. Silence. Finally. I sat down in front of the mirror, staring at the version of myself I didn’t recognize anymore. The makeup, the bright lipstick, the shimmering eyeshadow it all felt like a lie. I wiped at my face, smearing it across my cheeks, my throat tightening as I fought back tears. God, how did I get here?

I was numb, utterly and completely. The adrenaline had faded, and all I was left with was this crushing emptiness. I thought performing would give me something some sense of release, a momentary escape. But even up there, in front of thousands of screaming fans, I felt nothing. No joy, no sadness, just... numb.

I closed my eyes, taking a shaky breath. Every time I tried to pick up the pieces of myself, they slipped through my fingers. And now, after tonight, after another night of pretending, I wasn’t sure I had the energy to keep going. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions anger, regret, heartache and none of them had an outlet. Not through the music, not through the meaningless fling, not through anything.

I was alone in the quiet, just the way I felt inside. Empty. Numb.

In the days leading up to the concert, my emotions had been a chaotic blend of excitement and dread. The tour had been a whirlwind, with cities and fans blending into a blur. I was supposed to be thrilled this was my dream, after all but all I felt was pressure, a weight pressing down on my chest. Each night, I forced myself to put on the show of a lifetime, but inside, I was a shell, struggling to stay afloat.

The fans were always there, singing along, smiling, and pouring their hearts into every song. And yet, the louder they cheered, the more isolated I felt. It was as if a glass wall separated me from them, a barrier that wouldn’t let anyone see inside. They didn’t know about the dark thoughts that clouded my mind or the tears I held back in the quiet moments. They saw the performer, the artist, the vibrant spirit, but not the human behind it all.

After the breakup, memories of my ex haunted me. Six years of shared dreams, late-night talks filled with sweet nothings, and plans that now felt like shattered glass under my feet. I could hear his laughter in the back of my mind, a cruel reminder of what was lost. We’d built a life together trips, shared friends, countless inside jokes. And just like that, it was gone.

In my mind, I replayed the last conversation we had, the way his eyes had looked when he said it was over. I felt like I was drowning in the memories, and every attempt to resurface left me gasping for air. I tried to convince myself that moving on would be easy, that finding someone new would fill the void, but the rebound was a terrible idea. He didn’t understand me, and I didn’t want to be understood; I just wanted distraction. But distractions only reminded me of what I had lost.

As the weeks passed, I found myself spiraling further. The adrenaline from the concerts was no longer enough to keep me afloat. I was drowning in expectations and disappointment. Each night after the performance, I would come back to the hotel room and collapse onto the bed, my body heavy with fatigue and sorrow. I’d scroll through social media, seeing posts from happy couples and glowing selfies, a stark contrast to my own reality.

I picked up my phone, wanting to reach out to someone, anyone, but I hesitated. My friends didn’t understand the depth of what I was feeling; they saw the smiles, the stage presence, the acclaim. They’d never seen the tears that fell behind closed doors. I felt more alone than ever. I was stuck in this cycle, and I didn’t know how to break free.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I opened my phone to a message from my publicist, tree. “You killed it tonight! The crowd was amazing! How are you feeling?”

I stared at the screen, the words swimming in front of me. I felt a wave of frustration wash over me. How could I explain what I was feeling? What words could capture the emptiness that had become my constant companion? Instead, I typed back a simple “Thanks! I’m fine!” and hit send.

But I wasn’t fine. The truth was, I was unraveling. The masks I wore on stage and in public were starting to crack, and I was terrified of what lay beneath.

As the adrenaline faded, I found myself sitting on the edge of the dressing room sofa, my phone forgotten in my lap. The silence of the room pressed in on me, and the weight of loneliness became suffocating. My chest tightened as I felt tears welling up. I could no longer hold it in. My breaths came in shaky gasps as I finally allowed myself to break down, the sobs escaping before I could catch them.

How had I ended up here? Alone, in a room filled with the remnants of a performance, feeling so utterly lost?

But just as quickly as the tears came, I forced myself to regain control. I took a deep breath, swallowing hard to push the emotions back down. I couldn't let anyone see me like this. I couldn't let them know how much I was struggling. I straightened my back, smoothing down my comfy clothes, and plastered on a smile, one that I hoped would look genuine, at least on the surface.

With one last glance in the mirror, I stood up and walked toward the door. As I stepped out of the dressing room, I held my head high, the facade firmly in place. I would smile through this. I would keep going. I had to.

heyy this is my first time writing something like if you have any requests or suggestions on how to improve please tell me in the notes thing!!