the stars in your eyes | t.s. one shots

flower delivery

well hello!! thank you to those of you on my message board who enabled me to write this tehe. fun fact about me is that my gracie show was meant to be a few days ago but it got postponed whooohoooo!! and i had a nonrefundable hotel room and travel plans so yes i did in fact still go and it was my first real solo trip and i had the absolute best time ever so let this be your sign to take the solo trip <3 but i guess it didn't quite hit me until yesterday when i was watching people get excited for the london show that my concert had really and actually not happened and that made me super sad and i had the most fomo maybe ever tonight! so i did the mature and responsible thing and ate chips and queso and wrote a taygracie one shot instead of spending all of my money on a resale ticket to the london show! (especially because i am now going to have to get the hotel again and travel back to the city where i was supposed to see gracie when she reschedules it lol) anyway that's the silly little backstory to how this one shot was born so enjoy!! love love love <3 -ab

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Gracie slings her bag down onto the floor and flops right into the bed. Her head is pounding, her throat is burning... and her heart is absolutely shattered. She just came into London from Paris- and this is the last place she wanted to be right now. Looking around her boyfriend's apartment, barely able to speak enough to thank him for letting her stay here. Paul isn't even here right now- he's off in New York City doing a play and absolutely killing it. But at this very moment, he's wishing more than anything that he was in England to take care of his girl. He'd insisted that she at least go to his apartment for somewhere comfier than a hotel to heal and regain her strength.

Four doctors. She spoke to four different doctors, and not a single one indicated that she'd be able to perform her show in Brussels. Each one of them was skeptical about Nottingham and Leeds, too. Two weren't even sure if she'd be able to go on for London or Manchester. This bug has taken her out so hard. Gracie can't remember the last time that she was this sick.

Cancelling her shows was the last thing that Gracie ever wanted to do. She pushed through two since she started feeling badly, but last night in Paris was so hard. She's well aware of the fact that she probably should not have gone on, being almost completely unable to talk by the time she left the stage. She played a shorter setlist than usual and was so upset about cutting some fan favorites, but everyone understood. Being with the fans, in the most joyful environment that she's ever been in... it took all of the pain away for a few hours. The guilt is gnawing away at her insides- she's absolutely certain that people are going to be furious. The fans who flew to England from other countries, the ones who took trains or drove from all around the UK, anyone who booked a hotel that they can't get refunded on... they're going to be furious. She's letting everyone down- that's what the grating little voice in her head is telling her.

But she can't even think about it right now, as she falls into the bedsheets and buries her face in the pillows. Gracie pulls the blankets all around her and breathes in deeply. Even with her inhibited sense of smell right now, she can still tell that they smell like her boyfriend. They're soft and warm. Two weeks ago, she had these same blankets wrapped around her when she came to steal a few quick days with Paul to celebrate Valentine's Day. Oh, it was so wonderful. She was so happy then. And now, she just wants to hide away for the next few days, to sleep and cry and hope that the antibiotics get working as soon as possible.

Maybe a miracle will come through and she won't have to cancel Nottingham and Leeds.

Gracie doesn't know how long she sleeps for, but wakes up to a knock on the door. Her first instinct is to press a pillow over her head and not answer it. She surely looks the worst she's ever looked. But when the knock comes again, she groans and pushes herself up from the bed. "I'm coming!" she calls, mustering up all the voice that she can. She then throws Paul's hoodie that he left draped across the back of a chair over her head and pads barefoot over to the front door.