Chapter 50: Taylor and The Beach (Natasha's POV)

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After watching Holiday In The Sun, the six of us walked downstairs towards the theater. There was a bouncer on the door, I recognized him from our first night in the hotel; he was the bodyguard prohibiting kids under fifteen to enter CRUSH.

"Mr. Westin, good afternoon. Are you here for the concert?" The bouncer asked.

"Yeah, we are. Is she here yet?" Jason asked.

"Yeah, she's already in the stage."

"Perfect. We're starting now."

"Alright, I'll inform Pamela. Have a good concert, sir."

He walked away to get Pamela, who I had no idea who she was. The six of us walked inside the theatre, and noticed the stage with the lights off. We all took a seat on the front row of the theatre.

"Who's Pamela?" I whispered in Jason's direction.

"The woman who helped us plan all this." He whispered back.

"Oh."

Suddenly, there was a guitar strum, and a voice slowly started singing:

"I was riding shotgun with my hair undone

In the front seat of his car

He's got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel

The other on my heart"

Suddenly, the spotlights in the stage turned on, and Taylor Swift appeared, sitting on a stool with a guitar on her lap and a back-up guitar and singer behind her while she sang. This is an awesome private concert!

"I look around, turn the radio down

He says, Baby is something wrong?

I say, Nothing I was just thinking

How we don't have a song? and he says

Our song is the slamming screen door

Sneakin' out late, tapping on your window

When we're on the phone and you talk real slow

'Cause it's late and your mama don't know

Our song is the way you laugh

The first date man, I didn't kiss her and I should have

And when I got home, 'fore I said amen

Asking God if He could play it again

I was walking up the front porch steps

After everything that day

Had gone all wrong or been trampled on

And lost and thrown away

Got to the hallway, well, on my way

To my lovin' bed

I almost didn't notice all the roses

And the note that said

Our song is the slamming screen door

Sneakin' out late, tapping on your window

When we're on the phone and you talk real slow

'Cause it's late and your mama don't know

Our song is the way you laugh

The first date man, I didn't kiss her and I should have

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