Speak Now: A Taylor Swift Fan Fiction

05. Dear John

  “One thing I have to say I have learnt about being famous is that you aren’t as free as you wish to be. Once you release your first big album; your every move has to have a story behind it. Even though, after a while, you get used to it, it’s still a challenge to read the harsh words that people throw at you- forgetting that you’re human too. Being a celeb isn’t about the glitz and glamour, money fame and power*; no. All your freedom is gone the second you become famous. It’s basically a ‘go directly to jail’ card.  

That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy life though. It’s up to you to make the most of your life or be the prisoner the media makes you!”  

I safely put the letter back in its box; for the millionth time in my life. The letter was a letter my grandma gave to me before she died and whenever life gets too much, I open the box, read all her letters then let the waterworks take charge of my face. I’ve kept every single one of her letters. Yes, I’m sentimental like that.

  “I am unwritten you can’t read my mind I’m undefined…” Natasha Beddingfield blasted through my phone.  

“Hello?” I answered, after sniffing.

“Hey Tay,” Liz replied, “I was just checking up on you. I mean, you haven’t spoken to anyone all weekend and I’m worried sick about you. Where are you? I checked everywhere! Are you okay?”

“I am now,” I replied softly.

“You’ve opened Precious, haven’t you?” Liz questioned.

“No…” I replied guiltily at my best friend who knew me so well.

“Yeah right,” she said with sarcasm thick in her voice.  

Since we were young, Liz and I have always had code names for random items. The best was ‘Bob’, the bucket list. Most of them we’ve gotten over but the one we’ve kept forever is Precious; the box. In the box is every memory we’ve ever shared and all special letters are in there.  

Lizzy and I laughed on the phone for a while until I promised her I’d be back home by the next day. My phone rang again. The number I’ve been avoiding all weekend.  

“What do you want, John?” I asked.

“Uh…Uh…” he stuttered.

“John I’ve got a life you know. One that doesn’t evolve around you and your sorry’s.”

“Taylor I’m really sorry. I know I’ve said it before but I’ll never hurt you on-“

I hung up. I didn’t have time for John’s stories. You’d think after 5 years he would’ve learnt that sorry doesn’t fix much.  

The thing about John is that he paints you a blue sky full of sunshine, then goes back and turns it to rain.  

I drove back home-and by home I meant The Blue Lagoon. You’re probably wondering why it wasn’t my mother’s house. We had a fight. My mom didn’t approve of John and I’s relationship and disowned me if I ever went back to him. Of course I wouldn’t leave the man Fate had destined for me because my parents disapproval. I remember my mom and I’s last conversation.

*FLASHBACK*

I told her, “John and I are in love mom!” “Yes,” she replied, “and so were Romeo and Juliet and look where that got them? Dead.”

Her reply was funny, but the moment wasn’t. “Taylor, my angel, you’re losing your mind with that Clinton boy! If you really want to choose him over your own mother, GO!” She was literally shouting at the top of her lungs. I prefer giving angry people their space so I turned to leave. “Taylor,” my mom said in a deadly voice as I was about to open the door, “If you walk out of the door…I’ve never met you.”  

I drove to John’s house and we spent the night together, cuddling and watching movies.

*END OF FLASHBACK*  

I stopped picking up John’s phone calls and that’s when I realized the uselessness of the boy. All he knows is ‘sorry’. I don’t know what made me think I could change him and make him a better man. Optimism; Blind optimism.  

But then again, he is also to blame. It’s him who gave me all is love, forcing me to give him mine back in return. Which is fair. The sad part is that he always gives love and takes it away.  

I never did tell what John did to make me feel so much dislike towards him. Not hatred, dislike. It’s such a story.  

John asked me to accompany him to some function and I agreed. Later on the same day my manager told me I had to have an interview with Ellen de Generes* on the day of John’s function. I had already promised John I’d go with him so when I cancelled he didn’t talk to me for a whole week. I managed to nag my manager into organizing the interview earlier so I could make it to John’s function and it was done. I didn’t tell John but decided to surprise him by being there.

Now picture me standing there in my beautiful dress, smiling at everyone who recognized me while looking for my amazing boyfriend. Then I spotted him. Dressed in a formal tux with his hair in its usual messy state; having the time of his life- without me.

The shock on his face when he saw everyone looking in my direction. He looked very guilty which was what brought my eyes to the beautiful girl next to her. Had she not seemed too delighted next to him, I would’ve sworn they didn’t know each other, but then it was her. Lisa. John’s ex-wife to be.  

“I can explain,” he had tried to say, but I wasn’t hearing any of it. I cried all the way home.  

----***---

“It’s really over this time,” I told Liz. “That’s what she said the last time,” she coughed. We’ve been over this many times before so I chose to let it slide and she had a smug smile plastered on her face. Liz had suggested we move to California and I was deliberating with my manager who was organizing everything.  

I really enjoyed my whole life in Pennsylvania, I figured it was time for change and to leave all the Pennsylvanians at peace in their place. I learnt a lot around here, and one of the people I really learnt to know was John.  

If I were to give one characteristic of John that describes him the most I’d say: YOU ARE AN EXPERT AT SORRY! ###

Not my best and not proof read! Tired but couldnt sleept before updating so yeah...

Random: Do yourself a favour and the next time yoou go to McDonalds, get an oreo McFlurry and buy Sour Worms!!! The two are a great combo!!

♥♡♥♡

sour worms kind of love

xxx

Lizzy le Roux