Darling You've Got Your Demons | Kaylor

one

Taylor

I wiped my sweaty palms onto my dress before exiting the big black car. My shoes crunching in the gravel, I took one last look at myself in the car's tinted windows to make sure I didn't look as sleep-deprived as I felt. Last night I decided to rewatch a bunch of episodes of Grey's Anatomy, which, I realized now, wasn't the best decision.

As I walked towards the door of the rehab center I was visiting, I couldn't help but notice the bundle of nerves that had begun to settle in my stomach. My hand adjusted itself on the strap of my guitar case as I walked in the door, followed by two members of my security. Immediately upon entering, I was greeted warmly by several members of the staff. I made polite small talk as they led me into the cafeteria where almost all of the patients were sitting and waiting for me to come and play a few songs for them.

I pushed open the door, greeting everyone with a smile. Then I walked over to the stool and microphone that were set up for me. As I took out my guitar, I addressed the crowd. "Hey, guys! I'm Taylor-"

"We know!" someone shouted. I giggled.

"-and I was wondering if you guys would like me to sing something?" That was confirmed by the applause that echoed strangely in the large room. The acoustics in this place were horrible, but I would have to make do. I quickly plucked each string of my guitar and tuned it while I made small talk with the patients and asked for song requests.

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After playing and singing several songs, I was left to mingle with a few of the patients who were farther on in their treatment and had gained the privilege to see me by cooperating in therapy or by having some sort of breakthrough. I shoved my guitar back into its case and then walked outside to join them.

Since it was a beautiful day--the sun was shining and there was barely a cloud in the sky--we decided that it would be nice to sit and chat in the small courtyard. I sat down at one of the picnic tables that were covered in paint and sharpie, joining the five other people who were already sitting there.

"Do you guys want to introduce yourselves?" a nurse on duty said as she sat at the table adjacent to ours. There were a few shrugs and a few nods, but no one said anything. To fill the awkward silence, I decided that I would start, even though they already knew my name.

"I know you already know my name, but I can start if you guys want," I said. "I'm Taylor, I'm 24." I gestured to the woman on my left and she began to speak.

Karlie

On the outside, I probably appeared calm and as put-together as one can look at a rehab center, if not a little bored.

On the inside I was in panic mode.

I was in the same room as Taylor Swift.

I was going to be able to talk to Taylor Swift.

Taylor Swift wanted to Talk. To. Me.

It was taking all of my self-control not to scream and run around in circles like the fangirl I am. I could not even believe that I had heard my idol sing live, not to mention the fact that I was talking to her. I should've asked for an excessive amount of chill pills with the rest of my morning meds. I couldn't help but bite the inside of my lip to hold back a smile.

And suddenly, it was my turn to introduce myself. Suddenly feeling shy, I stuttered, "Um...I...I'm Karlie. Twenty-two years old." My best friend Cara laughed.

"Wow, I'm surprised that you're being this calm right now." Then, turning to Taylor she said in her obvious British accent, "Karlie is probably your number one fan. She's also totally gay for you. Not that she's not totally gay I'm her everyday life but-"

She stopped abruptly as I playfully hit her on the arm. "Thanks for outing me," I said, sticking my tongue out and smiling so that she could know that I was just messing with her.

Taylor giggled, turning to me. "You're a fan? That's so sweet!"

I smiled, "Uh, yeah, you're pretty awesome if you didn't know...." Taylor giggled again. She was adorable. As she looked away from me and began to talk with other patients, I began to pick at the skin around my nails. It was a new habit I had picked up. Finding a new hangnail, I pulled it back until a small bead of blood appeared underneath.

This didn't go unnoticed by Taylor, who gently placed her hands over mine in order to make me stop. I shivered slightly as our hands made contact, but released my nail from my skin.

It was such a small action, but it held so much meaning. Years later, I still remember her touch and the way it felt to be cared for by someone other than my sisters, who had to by default, and Cara. I expected Taylor to remove her hand once I had stopped, but she kept it there for most of the next hour, eventually intertwining her fingers with mine.

She was most definitely a good person. Sure, she seemed that way in the interviews, but those can always be scripted and manipulated in order to create the most perfect image possible. In real life she swore slightly more often, and her jokes were slightly more dirty, but she was still Taylor.