"Taylor looks all kinds of 70's beautiful....and love a hat! Great job" It was two months since Dianna told these words on the January issue of Vogue Magazine. It was two months since they first spoke. She remembered it all too well:
"Hello?" "Hi...well, I'm...I'm Taylor...Swift.." She blushed: "Oh...how did you..." "I came on the set of your show the other day, just to sign some papers about copyright and stuff and...well...I read what you said about me on Vogue and...gosh, this is so embarassing...I asked one of your castmates what your number was, just to say thank you." Dianna didn't say anything. "I...maybe -well, surely- I made a mistake, I'm sorry, I didn't want to be intrusive...I just..." "Thanks. I really appreciated it!" "Did you?" Taylor couldn't fake the entusiasm in her voice. "I sure did" Dianna laughed. Someone knocked on her dressing room's door, screaming "IT'S YOUR TURN, QUINN FABRAY" "I really have to go now, I'm sorry" "Oh, yes...of course you have...I mean...ok, well, thanks again" "Stop it, I said nothing but the truth. Bye girl" "So you think I'm beautiful?" But Dianna had already hanged up and she wouldn't ever know about that question.
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