Stay - Taylor Swift

Chapter 38

When you picture the funeral of an esteemed and well-respected billionaire, what do you see?

For the Kents, they followed the arrangements Robert had laid out over the course of his life. The plot of land, the flowers, who was specifically not to attend, it was all set out for them. So at the funeral on Sunday, just hours after Taylor flew into London directly after her show in Tampa, the cemetery was filled with people.

It had been just under a week since the man had passed and while Grace was still in agony, everyday was just a little bit easier. She lived up to her promise to Taylor, there were a few texts exchanged and one phone call in the middle of the night when Grace broke down and Taylor stayed on the phone until the brunette fell asleep.

Otherwise, the communication between the singer and heiress fell short. Plagued by a guilty conscience of not being with her father as he died, Grace struggled to get out of bed some mornings. She had started running again, miles and miles each night through the city. She only turned around when she felt like she couldn't take another step, and then she ran back. Her once common and difficult exercise routine coming back to her like riding a bike, an escape from the pain inside by replacing it outside. Mornings were for the gym and nights were for running, a cycle she had been living by to pass the time.

She was physically guard-less, refusing any of the ones Taylor offered her before she left but mentally she was a stone-wall. It isn't hard to build a house once you have all the materials, and as someone who had been working on stripping down some of those concrete barriers, Grace had enough lying around for a fortress.

Engulfed in concern, Taylor in Florida wasn't doing so hot either. She knew Grace was grieving and she could somewhat imagine the sense of pain, assuming it was similar to the kind she felt when Andrea was diagnosed with Cancer earlier that year, but she didn't know. She hadn't seen an image of her girlfriend in a week, there were no video-calls, no SnapChats, no pictures. There had been 6 texts sent from Grace in the course of 6 days;

Grace Kent: Morning, love you.

How Taylor responded to that text she received in the middle of the night, only because London was on a time scale a third of the day ahead was just as simple;

Taylor Swift: Good morning, I love you.

The harmful lack of effort on either parties behalf wasn't intentional. Taylor was trying to give Grace space and Grace was trying not to burden the singer, each on their own causing more distress to the other than they imagined.

As she landed around six in the morning, barely sleeping on the plane from stress but able to catch just a couple hours because she was working a tour-circuit, Taylor only brought Parker along. She had talked it over with the tall man and while he advised against it, she got her way. She didn't want to stand out among all the people or create an unwanted grievance on the family by having fifteen men line their already safe property.

There were a few notes stuck in the back of her mind as Parker drove their rental car to the Kent Estate to meet Grace before the funeral to get ready. Some of the questions considered how she was supposed to act around Grace. Would she want a hug? Could she kiss her? Should she stand next to her at the service or back off and blend in with the other guests?

She had spent her down-time between her last few shows reading articles on how to get through this and what to say when you really have no idea. When the car pulled up, it was like her mind had gone blank.

This was the part they had prepared for, she and Parker. The infamous family-head's passing caused a stir in the media, lining the house with guards and flowers along with a deadly dose of paparazzi, hoping they would catch even a glimpse of a grieving widow or one of the kids.