fingertips | kaylor

1.1

part one: coffee

song: clean / taylor swift

note: this story is inspired by my love for these two ladies and my love of the city. it is entirely fictional, but i have incorporated realistic elements and people into the plot. thank you so much for almost 500 reads on just my introduction! thank you for reading! i hope this was worth the wait. :-)

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Taylor set down her hot beverage and wrung her hands nervously. In her mind she could hear her friend Selena whisper words of encouragement. "I know you can do this. You're gonna be somebody someday, and I'll be there cheering you on. I'm here for you. You are one of many, but you are Taylor Swift." She desperately wished that Selena could be beside her then, but she knew that it was impossible, so she smiled at the ceiling and mouthed the words, "thank you."

The café was named Pope's, and Taylor was a frequent customer of the establishment. Whether she ordered food, a drink, or a comforting atmosphere, Taylor was present, curled up in the green leather chair in the corner by the windows. Sometimes she would open up her old laptop and mess around, browsing the internet or typing some more of her unfinished stories. Mostly, though, Taylor found herself people-watching. Wednesdays after eight o'clock were the nights that she devoted to this hobby. Sometimes she would remain vigil until closing time, which was either eleven o'clock or midnight, depending on the working manager that night. Taylor learned much about her environment this way. It also helped her gain material for her writing.

The clock struck eight on that Friday night. The rain kept Taylor off of her usual corner on Broadway and huddled inside the small café alongside others that were chased by the weather. By the time that Taylor had arrived at the bistro, though, a strange man was sitting in her seat. Taylor was especially unnerved by this- the one night that she was supposed to perform was the night that a stranger stole her seat. She felt her head well up like a child over such a seemingly trivial matter.

The vocalist's song ended and drinks were offered by an impromptu waitress branded by her sage top. Taylor shook her head when prompted and wiped sweaty palms on her skirt.

The Scottish performer gave a "thank you," and left the stage with a grin and a wave. Taylor admired how put-together someone who really wasn't so put-together could look. She knew him from the shop, as he was a regular as well, and they chatted often about how their lives had gone to hell but their spirits somehow had not. He took a deep breath and gave Taylor a supportive glance.

"That was a lovely performance by one of the village's own." The emcee was losing her passion for the night. Even her artificial curls were losing their bounce. "Calvin's music is available at the counter." As she finished speaking the wallpaper darkened with the dimmed lights. "Last on tonight's roster we have Taylor Swift, a guitarist and songwriter from here in the city."

Taylor's breath caught in her throat, and she instinctively clutched her guitar and rose, stepping to the stage as gracefully as she could muster. As the light clapping died out, Taylor realized that they had been clapping at all. Taylor stood in front of the microphone and smiled at the small audience reclining in the eclectic chairs. "Hey, I'm Taylor." She made herself as comfortable as possible on the wooden stool she had requested. This now echoed in her mind as a terrible idea, but she decided she must push through.

"I've always had deep passion for translating my emotions into songs that people can relate to," she readied her guitar. "And so I wrote this song about starting over in a place that felt like coming home and forgetting the person-" Taylor stopped and corrected herself. "People that let me down. I now believe that walking through a lot of rainstorms gets you clean."

As Taylor sang the song, she felt an overwhelming wave of emotion take over her. The words didn't come out as teary, but strong, just as she hoped that they would. By the time she had begun the chorus the room was illuminated with lightning, and the rain slid down the walls of windows around them all in support of her song. Taylor raised her head and met eyes with a woman standing by the doors. Taylor was struck by her beauty.

The song ended with Taylor strumming the last chord wrong. She was less angry with herself than she later thought was enough. It was her first real chance to share her gift, and a beautiful stranger ruined it. Taylor would have been mad if Karlie weren't so beautiful.

Taylor retired to her chair with her guitar and swallowed the last bit of her tea, which had chilled in her absence. She tried her hardest to put the stranger out of her head. Taylor's eyes followed the emcee as the she smiled in relief. "Thank you, Taylor." The brunette tossed a nod in Taylor's direction and the crowd applauded. Taylor smiled sheepishly into her mug. "Well, that was the last of tonight's performers. It is now nine p.m. Please do not hesitate to grab a drink and enjoy the company. If you are heading out, travel safely in the storm. Thank you all very much."

The crowd dispersed around the room. Taylor felt her chest grow heavy as people nodded at her in congratulations. She thanked them and packed her things. She needed to be ready to run. She would stay as long as she could, but as soon as the doors were closed, she needed to bolt through the rain. Her hands shook as she buried her belongings in her bag.

After she finished packing, she slung her bag over her shoulder and walked to the bar to wait in line. Before she settled down she at least wanted a drink. She scanned the room cautiously, granting eye-contact with grins.

As she reached 180, Taylor found herself staring at the mysterious woman who had distracted her earlier. She was inches from her and just below her eye-level. "Oh," Taylor muttered. She spun around quickly, afraid of the feeling of inferiority the cologne-masked woman made imposed upon her. She appeared younger than Taylor had initially anticipated, and without lightning washing out her face, Taylor picked up on green eyes and smooth, fresh skin. Taylor cursed at herself for not saying something witty or intelligent or at all. "One Irish Cream Coffee." Taylor ordered as soon as the cashier was in sight. She did not want to spend any more time around someone so intimidating. She shuffled to the side to pay and kept her gaze pointed at the floor.

The woman did not order. Instead, she watched Taylor brush her hair out of her face. She reached past Taylor and held out her credit card. "It's on me."

Taylor's heart raced. Why was this woman buying her drinks? She didn't know Taylor, and Taylor didn't look like she needed anyone buying drinks for her (or so she hoped). It wasn't a situation that Taylor was prepared for. "Oh, um, thank you." She said quickly. She forced confidence and regretted that she should politely carry on a conversation with the woman in thanks. She smiled at the stranger.

"I'm Karlie." The goddess identified. She beamed celestially, and Taylor could hear only her words in the din of the bustling hot-spot. "And it's no problem at all."