Tayvis One-Shots

rehearsals (pt 2)

Taylor's POV

The roar of the Sydney crowd was deafening as I moved across the stage, my voice ringing out into the night. The opening beats of the Blank Space bridge had just started, and the energy was electric, each note charging the atmosphere like lightning.

I hit my mark center stage, glittering under the spotlight in my green ensemble, every fringe sparkling like a cascade of stars. The cheers grew even louder as the first verse began, and I grinned, soaking in the moment.

But this time, tonight, there was something extra special.

As I sang, I moved toward the side of the stage, raising the mic for a brief break in the lyrics. "Sydney," I called, my voice rising above the din, "I think it's time we bring out a special guest for this song!"

The crowd exploded, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him.

Travis.

He rolled onto the stage on the bike, looking like he owned the place. He was decked out in the custom bomber jacket I'd gotten him, the shimmering number 87 on the back catching the light like a beacon. His grin stretched from ear to ear as the audience's screams somehow got even louder.

I stayed in character, singing through the verses with a little extra sass, but my heart was pounding. Travis rode around the stage like a pro, weaving in wide loops behind me as I sang, his presence lighting up the performance in a way that only he could.

The camera operators were losing it, scrambling to catch his every move. Fans in the front row had their phones out, recording him as he flashed exaggerated waves and playful peace signs, clearly loving the attention.

As I reached the chorus, he pedaled in a slow circle around me, and I couldn't help but glance at him out of the corner of my eye, fighting the urge to laugh. His grin was infectious, and even though I was mid-performance, I felt a bubble of joy rising in my chest.

The crowd was completely losing their minds. Every movement he made, every silly gesture, was met with deafening cheers.

The crowd's energy surged as Travis rode closer to the edge of the stage, his confidence radiating. He was eating up the cheers, the spotlight, and the cameras, all of it, like he belonged on tour with me.

I was in the middle of the last chorus, singing with all the playful venom the song demanded, when I noticed Travis pedaling a bit too close to the edge of the stage.

I shot him a quick glance, my smile frozen in place, but inside, I was screaming: Be careful, Travis!

And then it happened.

As he turned to wave dramatically at the audience, the front wheel of the bike caught the edge of the stage. Time seemed to slow as the bike wobbled precariously, his arms flailing as he tried to regain balance.

"Oh my God," I whispered into the mic, my voice barely audible over the music.

But the bike had other plans.

In an instant, Travis toppled over the edge, disappearing from my line of sight. A collective gasp echoed through the stadium, followed by stunned silence, and then a ripple of nervous laughter.

I froze, completely breaking character as I dropped the mic from my lips and the music stopped. "Travis?" I called, moving toward the edge of the stage. My heart was pounding in my chest as I peered down.

There he was, sprawled out on the floor below, tangled in the bike but already waving to reassure everyone.

"I'm good!" he shouted, his voice booming in that unmistakable Travis Kelce way. "I meant to do that!"

The crowd erupted into laughter and cheers, and I couldn't help but double over, laughing so hard my sides hurt.

"Leave it to you to turn my show into a slapstick routine!" I called down, still giggling.

With the help of a stagehand, Travis untangled himself and stood, throwing his arms up in victory like he'd just scored a touchdown. The audience went wild.

As he climbed back up onto the stage, slightly limping but grinning ear to ear, I handed him the mic.

"Anything you'd like to say to Sydney?" I asked, still catching my breath.

"Yeah," he said, smirking as he looked out at the sea of fans. "Don't let anyone tell you football players can't be backup dancers. Or, uh, stunt performers."

The crowd roared with laughter, and I couldn't help but shake my head, pulling him into a quick hug before returning to the song.

As the music picked up again, Travis stepped back, this time wisely avoiding the bike. Despite his grand tumble, the night was unforgettable, and leave it to Travis to make it even more memorable.

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The adrenaline from the show was still coursing through me as I hurried backstage, the cheers of the crowd still ringing in my ears. My heart was pounding, not just from the performance but from the lingering worry about Travis. Sure, he'd laughed it off and played it cool, but I couldn't shake the image of him tumbling off the stage.

I pushed through the throngs of crew members, dodging hugs and high-fives. My focus was singular: find Travis.

When I finally spotted him in the green room, he was sitting on the couch, holding an ice pack to his elbow and grinning as he recounted the story to a small group of dancers and crew.

"And then," he said, gesturing wildly, "I'm thinking, 'Okay, I've got this,' but nope. The stage had other plans. Boom. I'm airborne."

The room erupted into laughter, but I stepped forward, my concern overriding any humor. "Travis," I said firmly, and his eyes immediately locked onto mine.

The grin softened into something sheepish. "Hey, superstar," he said, setting the ice pack down. "You were incredible out there."

I crossed the room quickly, taking the seat next to him. "Are you okay? Like, really okay?" I asked, scanning him for any signs of injury beyond the ice pack.

He shrugged casually. "I've taken worse hits in practice. Just a bruise or two. Nothing serious."

I frowned, not entirely convinced. "You fell off a stage in front of ninety thousand people, Travis. That's not nothing."

He chuckled, reaching out to tuck a strand of sweaty hair behind my ear. "And yet, the only thing I'm worried about is how ridiculous I looked in front of your fans. Did I ruin the vibe?"

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension in my chest loosening a little. "No, you didn't ruin anything. If anything, you stole the show. I mean, how many people can say Travis Kelce fell off their stage during Blank Space?"

His grin widened. "Glad I could add a little chaos to the night."

I leaned back against the couch, exhaling deeply. "I was so scared when I saw you fall," I admitted softly.

His expression softened, and he reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers. "Hey, I'm okay," he said, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "Tough as nails, remember?"

I nodded, letting myself relax against his side. "Just promise me you'll stay off bikes during my shows from now on."

He laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close. "Deal. I think I've officially retired from stunt cycling."

I glanced up at him, and despite the teasing, his gaze was warm and reassuring. In that moment, the chaos of the night didn't matter. He was okay, and that was all I needed.