When Worlds Collide

red carpet

Travis:

As the limousine slowed to a stop in front of the venue, the energy outside was palpable. The faint hum of voices became a roar, a tidal wave of cheers and shouts as we neared the drop-off point. Through the tinted windows, I could see flashes of light bursting like fireworks. Paparazzi lined the barricades, cameras at the ready, their lenses aimed hungrily at every car door that opened.

The door on my side was pulled open, and a gust of night air carried the noise straight into the car. I stepped out first, adjusting my tie with practiced ease, the movement calm despite the chaos around me. The crowd surged, and the shouting intensified.

"Taylor! Taylor Swift!"
"Over here, Taylor!"
"You look amazing tonight!"
"Taylor, who designed your dress?"

Their voices blurred together, a cacophony of adoration and desperation to get her attention. They noticed me too, but only in passing just a side character in their narrative. It didn't matter. I had one job to do.

I turned back to the car, holding out my hand. Taylor's slender fingers slid into mine, and I helped her out of the vehicle. As she rose, the world seemed to tilt for a second, as though even the universe paused to take her in. Her dress shimmered under the harsh glare of camera flashes, each tiny crystal catching the light like a constellation coming to life.

The paparazzi erupted.

"There she is!"
"Taylor! Look this way!"
"Taylor, give us a smile!"

I could feel the press of bodies against the barricades as they fought for the best angle, their cameras firing like machine guns. The flashes were relentless, blinding even as I turned slightly to shield her from the onslaught.

Taylor squeezed my hand gently, grounding me. I glanced at her, and for a split second, she met my eyes. Her smile was small but steady, a professional mask she wore so well. Still, I could see the faint tension in her jaw, the pressure of being under the world's microscope once again.

"You okay?" I murmured, leaning closer to her ear.

She nodded, her voice calm but quiet. "Always am." Then, with a teasing smile, she added, "Don't let go of my hand."

"Never," I promised.

With that, we moved together, her hand firmly in mine, her other hand lightly gripping the skirt of her dress to keep it from brushing the ground. The students followed close behind us, their wide-eyed expressions betraying their mix of awe and nerves. Two bodyguards flanked us, their presence solid and reassuring.

Inside, the noise didn't subside it only shifted. As we stepped into the building, the opulent foyer opened into the red carpet area, a dazzling path bathed in bright light and lined with eager onlookers. A woman holding a clipboard stood ahead of us, a calm island in the sea of chaos. She looked up, her eyes lighting up as she raised a sign that read:

Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce

The room seemed to exhale all at once, and then inhale sharply again as the paparazzi and interviewers surged forward, jostling to get closer to the velvet rope.

"This is it," I said softly, giving Taylor's hand a squeeze.

She turned to me with a faint, knowing smirk. "Don't trip, Trav. Cameras are rolling."

I chuckled under my breath. "You're the one in the heels."

Her laugh was low and melodic, easing some of the tension. Then, the woman with the clipboard motioned for us to step forward.

The moment we moved onto the carpet, the flashes started again, brighter and more intense than before. It was like standing in the middle of a lightning storm.

"Taylor, over here!"
"Travis, can you step closer to her?"
"Taylor, who are you wearing?"
"Look this way! No, here!"

My arm found its way to Taylor's waist, a familiar and comforting motion. She leaned slightly into me, her posture perfect, her smile poised but a touch reserved. To the cameras, she looked effortlessly radiant, the embodiment of grace. To me, she looked breathtakingly human her perfection laced with a hint of vulnerability that made her even more incredible.

"You're stealing the show," I whispered, my voice low enough for only her to hear.

"Good thing you're here to share it with me," she murmured back, her smile warming just enough to reveal a glimpse of her true self.

We paused for what felt like an eternity, shifting slightly as the photographers shouted directions.

"Taylor, turn your shoulders!"
"Travis, look over here!"
"Can you hold hands?"

Taylor subtly adjusted her pose, angling her body toward me, her hand brushing against my chest as if to steady herself. The moment felt oddly intimate despite the chaos surrounding us.

When the photographers finally began to tire, we stepped off to the side, allowing the students to take their turn. The flashes were less frequent now, the interest of the crowd waning slightly, but the students didn't seem to mind. They were giddy, laughing nervously as they moved through the same gauntlet we'd just survived.

Taylor and I waited near the end of the carpet, her hand still in mine. I could feel the slight tremor in her fingers, a reminder of the toll these moments took.

"You good?" I asked again, my thumb brushing over her knuckles.

She nodded, her smile softening. "Better now."

Before I could respond, she tugged me gently toward a woman holding a microphone. The woman's eyes lit up as we approached, her expression a mix of excitement and disbelief.

"Hi, Taylor! Hi, Travis!" she greeted, her voice trembling slightly. "Would you mind answering a few questions for the fans at home?"

Taylor smiled, this time more genuine. "Of course. What would you like to know?"

The woman launched into a series of questions about her dress, the upcoming performance, and our dynamic as a couple. Taylor handled them effortlessly, her answers thoughtful but lighthearted.

Every now and then, she'd glance at me, sharing a small smile or a playful nudge when the interviewer mentioned us as a duo.

"So, Travis," the woman said, turning to me. "How does it feel to be here tonight, supporting Taylor?"

I grinned, slipping an arm around Taylor's waist. "It feels incredible. I mean, look at her she's the star of the night. I'm just lucky to be the guy by her side."

Taylor laughed softly, tilting her head toward me. "He's not just here to stand around, you know. Travis is my biggest cheerleader."

"Always," I said, giving her a wink.

The interviewer beamed, clearly delighted by the exchange. "Thank you both so much for your time. You're a beautiful couple."

"Thank you," Taylor said, her smile radiant. She reached for my hand again, and together we moved toward the next part of the night.

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