Falling Slowly {{ sweeran }}

Chapter 2

"I left a note on the door with a joke we'd made, and that was the first day." - Holy Ground, Taylor Swift.
@Mystolenheart_

Taylor wasn't having a good time.
Okay, understatement of the century. She had passed not having a good time about two hours ago, but it was 'her party' and she 'had to stay and meet everyone'. Who everyone was? She still had no idea.
She had been ushered from room to room in her large Nashville mansion all night. Fleeting introductions to people in sparkling dresses wielding overflowing glasses of wine like weapons and suits sipping sherry were followed by an initial showering of compliments, in turn followed by being completely and utterly ignored while her people talked business with other people's people. It was enough to give Taylor a headache and a death wish.

She may have left earlier, had it not been for the promise of an introduction to Ed Sheeran, whom had somehow eluded this meeting all night, either because he deemed her party too lame to grace his presence with or because he had gotten swallowed up by the swarm of record company executives and 'celebrities'.
Taylor wished she had been too, somewhere around the 300th air kiss.

All of this brought her eventually to a smaller drawing room, with a thankfully smaller, more intimate crowd. However, Taylor was still left thoroughly ignored, after having been vigorously grilled on her love life for a horrifying ten minutes.
It came as a surprise to most people that the infamous Taylor Swift, famous for being a man-eating super bitch, did not in fact enjoy the topic of relationships. Whom she was currently in one with ("Nobody, I'm happily single."), why the last one broke up ("Conflict of interest." ..and some messing around on the side on his part)  and whom she currently had in her sights. That one she did not deign to answer, she instead gave a completely forced laugh. They made her sound like some sort of alien, feasting on Earth's promising males, seducing them with the country-bumpkin, bubble gum image before snapping their necks, heart and purse strings and sucking up another Grammy.

She was losing faith in ever surviving the party, running her index finger along the rim of her practically untouched wine glass, when the door to the living room opened, revealing her manager, Nigel, leading someone by the elbow, like a child.
Taylor stood up, looking for an excuse to escape before she was subjected to another forced industry talk, when none other than Ed Sheeran was presented to the room.
Taylor made her way forward, thanking the heavens. The crowd parted for her, something she was used to but hated.

She couldn't help but smile as he fumbled over himself in his greeting, his cornflower blue eyes looking at anyone but her.
She stretched out her hand to him, and became aware that the entire room was watching intently.
​"Hi Ed. I know who you are, and honestly I think the pleasure's all mine."
Maybe tonight wasn't going to be as big a disaster as she feared.