102 // George Daniel

ll ⇌ 102

(please note that I have nothing against Taylor Swift and in no way am I trying to shame any of her music, fans, or relationships to anyone.)

her

He was tall. Really tall in that matter. He had blondish-brown hair, which was quite unusual. His arm was decorated in tattoos. I should have said yes.

Why didn't I say yes? No, no time for that. I needed to forget him. He wasn't special, just some stupid, half drunk, stoner who doesn't have anything to do with himself. No he wasn't. He was nice. Probably nicer than I'll ever be. But what was I thinking. Jesus Christ no he wasn't nice. He was probably trying to play me like everyone else has in my life.

I didn't get out much, so last night was kind of a big deal. Not that I went out on a special occasion or anything.

I wonder if he thought the same about me.. He had too. Or maybe his friends told him to mess with me. That's probably why he talked to me. Meredith. Stop.

him

"She doesn't even like us, it was just for promotion." Matty laughed, "She obviously has more fans than we have, so if she wears our shirt, the people who basically worship her will think that since she supposedly likes our band, they have to like it too! How fucking stupid." He flashed a smile at me while we awkwardly sat on his couch, shaming Taylor Swift. "I hate her personally." He paused and tapped his lip, "But if she wanted to, I would go out with her. She is a sensation. Think about all the publicity we'd get."

"She's a whore." He shot me a blank look, then for no reason in the world, we both started uncontrollably laughing. Then we just stopped. It was completely silent. A car beeped outside of Matty's apartment.

"1989 is one of the worst albums ever produced. I'm not sure why it sold millions upon millions of copies.." He paused, "She doesn't even write her own songs."

Although we had been speaking of other women, one in particular had not left my mind all day. I'm not sure if Matty remember how I'd been rejected by the girl at the restaurant, he'd probably been too drunk to handle his own thoughts. I still never had learned her name. The whole relationship would probably be a one-night-stand; we'd have sex and then she'd never speak to me again, basically how every other relationship I've had has ended up like.

"Matty, I'm leaving." I said quickly, standing up from his couch and finding the exit as fast as I could. I nearly sprinted down the halls to get to the staircase. Before I knew it, I was sitting in my car, in the cold, with nothing but my thoughts to keep my company.