Wildest Dreams - A Taylor Swift Adoption Fanfiction

Chapter 10: Hollywood's Least Favorite Person

Author's note: I'm so excited for the chapter after next, but may need a day or two to polish it, I keep changing the way I want it to go haha

I'm deep into watching Sister Katherine's world implode - Tree's got surveillance footage of her literally being escorted from the building - when the office door bursts open.

"Tree, I can't find-" Taylor stops, relief flooding her face when she sees me in the chair. "Oh thank god."

"Calm down, Swift," Tree doesn't look up from her typing. "The kid's fine. Just helping me ruin some lives."

"I thought..." Taylor's voice wavers slightly. "When you weren't in your room..."

"That I bolted?" I finish for her, trying to ignore the guilt churning in my stomach. "Not yet. Tree promised breakfast and revenge. I'm easily bribed." I take a deep breath, "And it's not my room. It's a guest room, remember?"

"Speaking of revenge," Tree swivels another monitor around, "look who just got dropped from his upcoming film project."

Taylor's eyes widen as she reads the headline. "Tree, you didn't..."

"Oh, but I did." Tree's typing somehow gets even more aggressive. "Turns out certain producers don't appreciate their male leads getting handsy with crew members. Especially when there's photographic evidence."

I watch Taylor carefully, but instead of the sadness I expect, there's something else in her eyes. Something harder.

"Good," she says quietly. Then, stronger: "Good."

I grin.

"And that's not even the best part," Tree goes on. "Sister Katherine just tried to claim the basement was for 'spiritual reflection.' Which would be more convincing if we didn't have footage of her dragging kids down there."

Taylor's head snaps toward me. "Is that... are you okay watching this?"

I shrug, picking at my third croissant. "Better than therapy."

"That's what I said!" Tree exclaims.

"You both need actual therapy," Taylor mutters, but she pulls up a chair next to me anyway. "What did I miss?"

"Well," I gesture at the screens with my pastry, "Tree's destroying, like, everyone who's ever hurt us, Joe's about to be Hollywood's least favorite person, and Sister Katherine just had a very public meltdown involving what I'm pretty sure were death threats."

"Technically," Tree interjects, "they were 'prayers for our souls.' But yes, basically death threats."

Taylor looks between us, something soft and worried in her expression. "I know this feels good, but..."

"But nothing," Tree cuts her off. "They hurt people, Taylor. They hurt kids. They hurt you. Actions have consequences."

"Yeah," I add, surprising myself by speaking up. "And some of us have been waiting a really long time for those consequences."

"We have indeed," Tree murmurs and I know she's thinking about Joe.

Taylor studies my face for a long moment. "You're sure you're okay?"

"No," I say honestly. "But watching Tree destroy them is helping."

"You hear that?" Tree smirks.

"Pretty sure this isn't what my therapist meant by 'healthy coping mechanisms,'" Taylor sighs, but she's fighting a smile.

"Probably not," I agree. "But your therapist never had to deal with Sister Katherine's 'spiritual reflection' basement."

Something dark crosses Taylor's face. "No, but she's dealt with controlling assholes who think they can get away with hurting people."