unfinished echoes - taylor swift

02

The next night, Taylor took in the thunderous applause as she exited the stage, heart pounding from the exhilaration of another successful show. Her team surrounded her backstage, all smiles and congratulations, but beneath her practiced smile, she felt a strange heaviness, an unease she couldn't shake. She had expected the tour to feel different this time-more like a celebration and less like a distraction. But lately, it felt like each performance took a little more out of her, leaving her feeling emptier with each encore.

As she moved through the maze of fans and staff backstage, she caught a glimpse of her phone screen lighting up with messages from Joe. They'd been arguing more often than not lately, and just seeing his name stirred up an uneasy mixture of frustration and resignation. The spark had dulled, and though they tried to play their parts in public, Taylor knew that the rift between them was only growing wider.

Finally making her way to her hotel room, Taylor shrugged off her jacket, her mind clouded with thoughts she didn't want to entertain. She poured herself a generous glass of wine, letting the warm liquid swirl in her hand. She took a long sip, sinking onto the plush hotel couch, hoping the drink would ease the tension buzzing in her chest.

But no amount of wine seemed to drown out the thoughts that swirled-thoughts of the show, of Joe, and, most of all, of Daisy. That split-second notification the night before, the familiar name that had flashed on her screen-it had awoken something she'd tried so hard to keep buried. She took another sip, almost defiantly, as if drinking would somehow silence the memories that tugged at the edges of her mind.

Irritated and with a slightly reckless buzz in her head, she opened Instagram, her fingers moving almost of their own accord as she found her way to Daisy's profile. She hadn't been on Daisy's page in years, but there it was, filled with shots of a life she wasn't a part of. Scrolling through the recent posts, she couldn't help but stop at the photos of Daisy with her Love Bite co-star, Ivy Smith.

In one post, Daisy and Ivy were on set, grinning with their arms around each other, both of them radiant in a way that felt too close, too intimate. In another, they were in costume, gazing at each other under dim, moody lighting, captured in a way that felt almost... real. And then, a candid shot Daisy had posted from their downtime-a laugh shared, a gaze held a second too long. Taylor's fingers clenched slightly around her phone.

She tried to tell herself it was professional, just good chemistry for the film. But a gnawing irritation sparked in her chest, a feeling she hated to admit even to herself. She was jealous, irrationally, absurdly jealous of a woman she hadn't spoken to in years, jealous of Ivy, who had no idea the hold Daisy once had-and maybe still had-on Taylor's heart.

As Taylor's frustration and jealousy mounted, her body reacted with a sudden, overwhelming need. She slipped a hand into her shorts, her fingers finding the dampness at the juncture of her thighs. She bit her lip, stifling a moan as she began to touch herself, her mind consumed by thoughts of Daisy.

Taylor's fingers moved with increasing urgency, her breathing growing ragged as she imagined Daisy's touch, the way her hands had felt on her skin, the taste of her lips. She pictured Daisy with Ivy, the way they looked at each other, the intimacy in their gazes, and a surge of possessiveness flooded through her.

"Fuck," Taylor muttered under her breath, her fingers moving faster, harder. She wanted to wipe away the image of Daisy with anyone else, to make herself the only one Daisy could think about. Her hips bucked against her hand, seeking more friction, more pressure.

In her mind, it was Daisy's moans filling the empty room as Taylor devoured her like a Michelin meal, Daisy's cries while she held onto Taylor's shoulder while moaning her name. The fantasy consumed her, driving her closer to the edge of release.

Taylor's free hand moved to her breast, squeezing roughly, adding to the intensity of sensation. She could feel her climax building, her body coiling tightly, ready to snap. She pictured Daisy's face, the way she looked in the throes of passion, and with a final, desperate thrust of her fingers, Taylor came undone.

Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her body shuddering with the force of it. She bit her lip hard, muffling her cries as the pleasure coursed through her. For a moment, everything else fell away-the tour, Joe, the arguments and the emptiness. There was only the sensation of her own release and the lingering ghost of Daisy's touch.

As the aftershocks subsided, Taylor slumped back against the couch, her chest heaving. She felt a mix of satisfaction and guilt, knowing that she had sought comfort in a memory, in a person she had pushed away.

-

Under the bright, heated lights of the set, Daisy prepared for the next take, her mind caught between the moment and a lingering distraction. She knew the scene was important-an intimate moment between her character and Ivy's, one the director hoped would make waves in the trailer. Ivy leaned in, her expression soft and intent, and Daisy did her best to stay in character, brushing away all thoughts that didn't belong.

When the director finally called "Cut!" she let out a quiet breath, a mixture of relief and nerves settling over her. As she sat alone in one of the empty chairs on set, the crew bustling around her, she pulled out her phone, her fingers absently brushing across her lips from the residual tension of the scene. She glanced down, noticing her hand was trembling slightly, though she wasn't sure if it was from the kiss or what she was about to do.

She scrolled quickly past messages and notifications, her finger hovered over the search bar as she debated, biting her nail absently, her mind racing with doubt. This could be a bad idea. No, it probably is a bad idea. But the impulse was there, an itch she couldn't shake.

With a quiet exhale, she typed in Taylor's burner account. She'd known the handle once, when things were different, and she'd saved it, as if clinging to a thread of the past. Her mind filled with Taylor's performance from the previous night, videos she'd seen all over her feed, the familiar energy she knew Taylor must've felt.

Her fingers tapped on the message icon, and she typed quickly, her heart pounding. She typed and erased, again and again, feeling like she was walking a tightrope between the past and the present. After a final pause, she typed, "Congratulations on your first show," then hovered over the send button, feeling her pulse thunder in her ears. Just a simple message, she told herself, it doesn't mean anything.

Before she could change her mind, she pressed send, watching the message disappear into the ether, like a whispered confession.

short chapter till i get more free time x
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