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There was once a time when Taylor was a perfectly captured candid at a partyĀ ā her wings spread and beat higher, faster with every conversation exchanged, dance shared, drink dedicated in a toast. She was a twirling dress and a laugh frozen in time in a still photo, because even though parties werenāt always her idea of a good time, she knew how to have a good time. It was a fine thread between networking and enjoying the perks that came with the job. Only in the last few months had she found herself emerging from the depths of her home and actually attending parties that werenāt hosted by close friends or her family; the SNL after-party didnāt sound like a terrible idea, and Tree was ever the encouraging whisper in her ear. After all, when people envisioned Taylor Swift, they envisioned a social darling to some degree. She liked the SNL people enough and it didnāt seem like a bad idea, going. Ghosts followed her through New York City but they didnāt follow her everywhere, and if Taylor Swift was good at anything beyond pairing chords and words together, it was compartmentalization.
Cosmopolitan in the dainty grip of her manicured nails and her pinned back blonde hair starting to fall in her face, Taylor made her rounds. She wasnāt the life of a party anymore, no longer the bright beacon that would be the face of the event people remembered when they looked back. She kept to herself and the corners, sticking close to people she considered close company and only ever branching out if someone approached her. Compartmentalization was an art form and she was a master at how she used her brushes to paint things into a scene or tucking them away.Ā
She liked having some degree of control about her universe, though; it made her feel safe, made her feel like things werenāt going to violently spiral and send her down a rabbit hole of uncharted emotions. Parties like this were far beyond her reach. Location, times, the appetizers on trays floating around the room, the guest list, none of it having her touch. She was affirmed of this upon a fleeting glimpse of someone sheād known in several of her lifetimes, someone she hadnāt expected to be here but really, she should have, because the universe thrived upon humor and found satisfaction in watching them all squirm. Instinct told her to jump off the roof if she thought taking the stairwell wouldnāt be fast enough to carry her downstairs to an awaiting car on the street. Her instincts werenāt feline, though, light years beyond being quick enough to give her time to actually react.Ā
āChris!ā Someone in the small circle she was standing within broke out and called, Taylor longing for a hole to open under her feet and swallow her whole.Ā āHey, over here!ā
Taylor couldnāt help but to press her lips into a thin smile as her eyes found the very person in question, heart tripping and tangling as it warred with itself on how to respond. She held up her free hand in a half-hearted wave.Ā āHi,ā she added quietly, unsure on what else to say.
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