TNT Short Fics

I just like hanging out with you (1/3)

Summary: A year of becoming best friends.

"Somewhere you have to be?"

Taylor looks up from her phone at her publicist, who has a questioning eyebrow raised on the screen in front of her. They've been going over the plan for the announcement of 1989 (Taylor's Version). But now, as the rest of the team logs off, she realizes she's been caught zoning out.

"No, nowhere today. You know I'm just laying low."

"Ah. You were just checking your phone so much, I thought we were keeping you," Tree says with a smirk. But underneath it, Taylor sees a hint of concern. "Everything okay?"

"I'm fine, Tree," she replies with a smile. "Really."

Tree sighs but looks relieved. "Yeah, you seem to be," she agrees. "Anyway, I'll get out of your hair. Let you have your free afternoon."

Taylor rolls her eyes, "My one free afternoon between shows."

The redhead laughs as she logs off, and Taylor glances from her computer to the sunny patio off her dining room. She forces herself not to pick up her phone immediately, instead walking across the room to grab her water bottle. She has to step over Benji, who's sunning himself in a beam of light from the French doors as she steps outside.

She settles into the low couch outside, finally allowing herself to tap the phone, illuminating the message she'd received in the last few minutes of the meeting:

Favorite after-school cartoon? Don't break my heart and say My Little Pony or something.

She huffs out a laugh and taps out a reply:

Nah, I am a Wild Thornberrys girl. What about you?

Taste! Rugrats all day.

She giggles and feels a warmth in her chest that has followed her the past couple of weeks, weeks filled with silly texts and funny TikToks sent back and forth. Not to mention the hours of phone conversations tucked in between setlists and football drills.

She probably could make the case that she's talked to Travis more in the past two weeks than she has some of her friends in the past year. That first day, it had been like calling up a long-lost friend and picking up where they left off. She'd been startled when the text from yet another mutual friend encouraging her to reach out to him came in and lit up the time, making her realize they'd been talking for hours.

It hasn't stopped since. She finds herself telling him things she hasn't voiced to people she's known for years—fears about the fame that surrounds her, the hard parts of the last year. And he's the same, opening up about the looming end of his football career and the quiet envy he has for his brother and friends with families. All shared without expectations or agendas. Just two people getting to know each other—and realizing they should have known each other a long time ago.

And then, of course, they'll spiral off into the most ridiculous debates on old movies or food or the importance of the top sheet.

But more and more, she finds herself cataloging small moments—not in her Notes app or her journal, but in her head.

The way his voice drops when he's talking about something serious.
The way he texts back immediately, even when she knows he's busy.
The way she's stopped overthinking what she sends him.

These aren't just signs of a crush. And trust her, she has a big crush on him. They're signs of a friend. A real one. He's becoming one of her favorite friends.