Tayvis One-Shots

rio de janeiro

Travis's POV

The air was thick with heat as we pulled up to the stadium. The usual buzz of excitement from the crowd was muted, but it wasn't just the oppressive temperature that had caused the shift. My phone buzzed in my pocket, a constant reminder that things weren't as they seemed. I pulled it out, expecting to see a message from one of my brothers, maybe something about the game, but instead, it was a string of texts from Taylor's team.

My heart skipped a beat as I read through the messages, each one more urgent than the last.

"Travis, stay close to Taylor. There's been an incident."
"A fan collapsed before the show started. She passed away, and the show has been postponed. Taylor is shaken up and blaming herself. Please, go to her."

My stomach twisted into knots. I looked up to my family, but they already knew something was off.

"Go to her," my mom said quietly, her eyes filled with concern. "She'll need you."

I didn't waste another second. As I made my way through the stadium, my mind raced. A fan had died. And Taylor... she had to be devastated. I could already picture her, her heart bleeding for the loss. But there was something else gnawing at me, Taylor would think this was her fault.

By the time I reached her dressing room, I was out of breath. The door was cracked open, and I could hear her voice, low and shaky, talking to someone, probably her team. But when I stepped inside, the sight of her sitting on the edge of the couch, head in her hands, made my stomach drop.

"Taylor," I said softly, stepping closer. She didn't even look up. "Hey."

Her eyes were red, puffy, and filled with that all-too-familiar pain that I knew all too well. She looked up at me, and the weight of everything hit me in an instant.

"I should've done something," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I should've stopped the show. I could've-"

"No," I interrupted gently, kneeling down in front of her. "No, Taylor, listen to me. This is not your fault. You didn't make the heat happen. You didn't control the conditions. None of this was your doing."

Her breath hitched as she looked down at her hands. "But I was there. I saw the crowd. I saw how many people were packed in and how hot it was. I could've stopped it. I should've."

I could see it—the overwhelming guilt consuming her. She felt responsible, like it was something she could've prevented. It hurt me to see her like this, and I hated the thought of her carrying this burden alone.

"Taylor, you don't control the world," I said softly, placing my hands on hers. "You give everything to these people, but you can't be everything for them. You're not their savior. You're just... you're just Taylor. And you can't carry the weight of something like this."

She let out a shaky breath, wiping her eyes, but the tears kept coming. "I didn't know how bad it was until after. It's my fault. I don't know how to deal with this, Travis. What if I could've helped? What if I could've stopped it before-"

"Stop," I said, my voice firmer now. I cupped her face in my hands, making her meet my eyes. "You can't go down that road, Tay. You'll drive yourself crazy thinking like that. There's no what ifs here. You didn't know. No one could've known."

She closed her eyes, letting out a long, shaky breath, but I could feel her starting to steady herself just a little. "I don't want anyone to think I don't care," she said softly. "I don't want them to think I didn't try hard enough. What if they think I didn't do enough?"