Chapter 5
She woke up on the morning of her 25th birthday and sighed. She didn’t feel any different, she thought, taking her glasses off of her nightstand and slipping them on. She’s not sure why she expected to feel different. She hadn’t at thirteen, her lucky number, or sixteen, or eighteen or even twenty one. All of the big milestone birthdays had come and gone and she felt the same as she did everyday, never older, never wiser.
She’s not sure why she thought she would feel different when she turned twenty five, why she thought that would finally be the day she felt older. She thought maybe she would at least feel wiser as she crossed into her “mid twenties” maybe it was because she was nearing the beginning of the end. She had seen the articles, the comments when she googled herself in a moment of weakness, Karlie sitting across from her on the living room floor, laughing at something Selena had said, choosing to ignore the bite in her best friend’s words, with her perfect white teeth smile, a piece of sushi held between chopsticks. Taylor wished she could figure out how to use chopsticks. She wondered when spending time with Karlie left her resenting herself. She wondered if it was a new thing or something that had always been there, but she had been too blinded by the hearts in her eyes to notice.
She had an emotional hangover from spending the evening with Karlie and Selena. Seeing the other girl hurt. There was no way around it. She glided into Taylor’s apartment the same way she had Taylor’s life, with a playful smile and the kind of grace only achieved after years of ballet. Taylor wanted to hate her. But she couldn't, she still loved her.
She was a real Pop Star now, and by those standards she was nearing late middle aged, ready to be replaced by the hot, new, young, shiny thing. But, she still felt exactly the same as the day before. She might not feel different, but the media told her she was different, she was older now, it reminded her, she was in her mid twenties. 1989 was her last chance to be relevant, the articles printed, the voice in the back of her head called out. She was never going to release another album as good as 1989. She had hit her peak, and she needed to prepare herself for her downfall.
Selena surprised her with warm croissants and a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, both from a bakery down the street. There was a “Happy Birthday” Balloon tied to a weight next to the offerings on the counter, she burst into a purposely off key rendition of Happy Birthday that she knew would make Taylor laugh. She felt her eyes fill with tears that she quickly blinked away. While she knew she didn’t deserve Selena, she was extremely thankful to have her.
Taylor leaned over to fluff a pillow on the couch, keeping the entryway in sight, while pretending that wasn’t what she was doing. She plucked a stray cat hair off of the fabric and sighed. She wasn’t sure why she even bothered with pretending, she was alone in the apartment, there was no one there to witness her shame.
Selena had left earlier after eating her own croissant to run errands and partake in her own engagements before reconvening for Taylor’s birthday party that evening. She had given Tayler a knowing smirk as she departed, leaving Taylor confident that the other girl, her oldest industry friend, had something up her sleeve. Even though it had ended in flames, she was thankful everyday that they had both thought dating a Jonas Brother was a good idea. Her stylist would cut her bangs when she did her hair for Jingle Ball tonight.
Her parents had called- separately of course, as well as her brother to sing her happy birthday and wish her the best day. She had opened their presents on Facetime and smiled. A Notre Dame sweatshirt from Austin, that she was currently wearing, along with a pair of her favorite lululemon leggings, investment bonds from her father, and her late grandmother’s necklace from her mother. She knew she was hard to shop for, that she never truly wanted or needed anything, especially not these days, but she appreciated the thought.
Her phone was in the waistband of her leggings, constantly vibrating with text messages wishing her a happy birthday and notifications that she was being tagged in instagram posts. Karlie had made her heart hurt, they were pressed together in a selfie, laughing, Taylor couldn’t remember at what. Karlie had captioned the photo “Happy Birthday to my partner in crime, my other half, @ TaylorSwift.”
Taylor wondered if it was possible to love someone so much that you hated them. She wondered if Karlie missed their romantic engagement the way she did, the way she would pull out her phone to send her a text, whenever she saw something that reminded her of the supermodel, but then refrained. Then again, Taylor thought, looking back, she was always the one that sent Karlie the pictures and memes, the one who looked through her lashes, her heart in her throat as she said “I love you” for the first time. Karlie’s behavior hadn’t changed even though Taylor felt like she had rearranged her entire life the past few weeks, desperately trying to fill a gaping hole that Karlie had left in her chest.
Taylor felt like her skin had been buzzing since Karlie had come over the night before, since the younger woman had walked through the very same entry way and leaned in to kiss her in greeting before Taylor recoiled as if burned.
“I’m seeing someone,” Taylor said, her voice tight. “Remember.”
Karlie flashed her a winning smile. “Sorry babe,” she said, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “It’s a force of habit.”
Selena let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like “bitch.” Karlie and Taylor both chose to ignore her.
Taylor knew that Karlie had wanted to ask about Matty the night before, that the curiosity about their relationship was tearing her apart inside. The vicious part of Taylor enjoyed watching her squirm, as she danced around the subject, having asked if he was going to be coming into town for her birthday. Yes, Taylor had explained, thinking of the video Tree had sent of Matty wearing a 1989 shirt on stage that night. She knew that Karlie hadn’t seen it yet. He was going to spend the weekend with her before flying back to the UK to see his family for the holidays. Karlie had made a comment about them not spending Christmas together, but Taylor just laughing, thinking of Thanksgiving, of Karlie crowded around the island in her family’s kitchen in Nashville. “It’s a new relationship,” she explained. “Plus we’ll have New Year’s Eve.”
But for now she was alone, which meant that she could stand in front of her own front door, glaring at the wooden slab separating her from the outside world if she wanted to and no one was there to judge her, except Meredith and Olivia who were currently hiding from her after some enthusiastic birthday snuggling that morning.
Greg had texted her moments ago that he was in the elevator with Matty, and to brace herself for the hurricane that was in coming.Taylor wasn’t sure what he had meant until she was opening her front door and she laid eyes on the man himself. Matty looked worse for wear as he was shuffled into Taylor’s apartment by Greg. He tripped on the corner of the carpet runner in her entry way, Greg grabbing his elbow to steady him at the last moment as he looked up at Taylor with wild eyes, the remnants of last night’s eyeliner still smudged around the dark orbs behind his wire framed glasses. He was holding two Starbucks cups, one in each hand, and Greg’s maneuver had saved them from tumbling to the floor along with Matty himself.
“Bloody hell,” he swore, his accent somehow sounding even thicker than she remembered, and less refined, the words carrying a slight slur to them. “There are like dozens of people camped outside your flat.” He said looking back at Greg who was still holding him upright as if he was expecting him to do something about it. Taylor froze, cocking her head to the side in confusion.
“Oh- this is for you,” he said, reaching out with the arm Greg wasn’t clinging to, to hand her the cup. She blinked in surprise. He had gotten her a nonfat caramel latte, his name scrawled in sharpie on the side meaning he had actually gone in and ordered it himself. He had remembered her coffee order.
“The paparazzi were there last time too?” Taylor said slowly, trying to make sense of what Matty was saying. She hated it, hated that they knew where she lived and that she was only able to secure a perimeter so large in front of her entry way, that in addition to the paparazzi, her fans would camp out as well, desperate to get a glimpse of her and her comings and goings. It made her skin crawl, it made her feel like a zoo animal on display. She wasn’t a person to them, she was another species, something to be gawked at. She took a sip of her coffee. Matty had remembered her coffee order after their singular coffee “date.” Karlie still sometimes showed up with almond milk instead of nonfat. Taylor fucking hated almond milk.
“Yes,” said Matty, shaking out of Greg’s grip so that he could toe off his sneakers. “But wasn’t that arranged? Some kind of photo op?” He was wearing an oversized gray jumper, black joggers and a Canada Goose jacket, his greasy curls pulled up into a messy half bun. Taylor wasn’t sure if the half up, half down look was on purpose, or if Matty had just missed most of his hair when gathering it up into the dark green scrunchie.
Taylor blinked. “I mean, they’re just always there?” She said slowly causing Matty to look up at her in horror as he untied his left shoe. She was touched that he was due diligently following her unspoken “no outside shoes inside” rule, though he looked like he was going to tip over, Greg had a hand out, ready to grab onto him again if needed as he balanced on one foot, his backpack weighing him to the side, his coffee in the crook of his elbow.
“What the fuck?” He asked, lining his shoes up against the wall. His socks were purple and had turtles on them today. Taylor squinted. The turtles were wearing Santa hats.
“Where should I put his stuff?” Greg asked, gesturing to Matty’s luggage, Taylor was impressed, he had a single rolling suitcase, along with a Louis Vuitton duffle and the backpack that he was currently wearing. She couldn’t imagine going on an entire tour with such few bags.
“My room is fine,” said Taylor, knowing that with the number of people coming to her party, and the number that would inevitably stay over, Matty needed to sleep in her room to keep up appearances. Plus, Selena had already claimed the good guest room.
“What?” Matty asked.
“If we’re supposed to be dating, and there are people staying over tonight, you need to sleep in my room.” Said Taylor like she was talking to a child. “I have a love seat in there that I’ll sleep on, don’t worry I’m not going to damage your fragile sensibilities.”
“The paparazzi are just always outside your flat?!” Matty asked again. Greg just sighed and pushed past him, taking the roller bag and the duffle into the direction of Taylor’s room.
Taylor sighed. “Yes, I don’t love it but there isn’t any legal way to get them to leave, they’re on public property, I’ve checked.”
“Dear Lord,” said Matty, shaking his head.
“Anyway,” Said Taylor, leading him back into her home, she felt silly standing in the entryway. “How was your flight?”
“Fucking awful,” said Matty, dramatically. He took his backpack off and sat it on the floor by the couch before flopping dramatically onto cushions. She sat down significantly less dramatically next to him.
“Really?” Taylor asked, surprised, she hadn’t seen any reports of bad weather, and Chicago to New York City wasn’t a long flight.
“I fucking hate flying,” Matty revealed, “I took like four Xanax and still couldn’t sleep.” He rubbed at his eyes beneath his glasses, having sat his own Starbucks cup on the coffee table. Taylor was impressed, he had sat it on the stack of coasters. “And now I’ve got a ‘eadche, and because your fans were waiting for me at the airport Greg wouldn’t let me stop for a fag.” But they had managed to stop for Starbucks.
Taylor winced and wondered how they had determined what flight he was on, or rather who had leaked it. Taylor had offered to send her plane to pick him up, but Jamie had declined on Matty’s behalf, explaining that their environmental footprint was something that was important to the band, and that he nor Matty would be able to morally justify it.
“Well,” said Taylor, “you’re not smoking in here.”
Matty groaned. “I figured that, love.” He whined pathetically.
“I have a little atrium though,” she said, “you can smoke out there.”
His eyes lit up, “that would be brilliant,” he said, reaching down to root around in his backpack, procuring a slightly squashed box of cigarettes, Marlboro Reds this time. She was pretty sure he had been smoking Camels the last time she saw him. She wondered if he had a preference. He paused, pulling out an even more squished sparkling blue gift bag that shed glitter all over his backpack, his pants and Taylor’s couch as he held it out.
“I almost forgot,” he said as Taylor took the bag skeptically. “Happy birthday.” He gave her a lopsided grin and Taylor held onto the gift bag nervously.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said softly, touched that he had gone through the effort. They weren’t friends, at least not yet, and he was only here because he had to be.
“I’d be a shit fake boyfriend if I didn’t,” he said with a shrug. “It’s not much, just something I got off Etsy.
Taylor’s heart jumped into her throat as she pulled out a pair of socks, they were light purple with Olivia and Meredith’s faces all over them.
“Oh my god,” she said, clutching them to her chest. “Oh my god.”
Matty grinned. “I thought you’d like them.” He said, reaching up to rub at his eye again, smearing the eyeliner remnants even further. “Pretty sure the seller thinks I’m some kind of Taylor Fucking Swift super fan though, she makes socks with pictures of your pet on them, and when I sent her the pictures of Meredith and Olivia she seemed to know exactly who they were, and that they weren’t my cats.”
“Well,” said Taylor, “I love them and I am going to wear them tonight. Thank you so much.”
Matty gave her a thumbs up. “Now, onto more pressing matters, where can I have a smoke”
Taylor sat the socks down on the coffee table, and stood up, leading Matty to the small atrium off of the kitchen. It really wasn’t meant for a person to spend time in, but there was a sliding door so she could take care of the pants she kept killing, and it was better than him smoking in her living room, or facing the masses outside.
“Thanks love,” he said, shutting the door behind him before lighting up. Feeling weird watching him smoke from the other side of the glass, Taylor made her way back into the living room, and quickly snapped a picture of the socks, sending them to Tree and her Mom. She paused, and sent the picture of Selena as well.
“Look what Matty got me for my birthday,” she accompanied the image.
Selena responded half a second later. “OH MY GOD!!!”
Taylor smiled despite herself, “right, it’s shockingly sweet.”
She was willing to bet that Selena was staring at her own phone as well. “I think you guys might actually be friends,” she responded.
“I hope so,” Taylor sent, before closing out of the text conversation to take an incoming call from Tree.
“What’s up?” Taylor asked, hating that speaking to her publicist made her feel nervous.
“Happy Birthday,” Tree said, and Taylor felt something loosen in her chest. Her tone was happy and pleasant, which meant she probably wasn’t angry. Though Taylor doubted she was calling just to wish her a happy birthday. She had already received a text from the woman earlier that morning.
“Thanks,” Taylor responded, mentally willing Tree to cut to the chase.
“If you get asked what you got for your birthday,” said Tree, “make sure to mention those socks.”
Taylor nodded, even though Tree couldn’t see her. “They were very thoughtful,” she said.
“They were perfect, exactly the kind of gift to give your new girlfriend,” Tree agreed, “it’s personal without being too much.”
Taylor frowned. “Did you pick it out?”
“I wish,” said Tree. “But that’s not why I actually called.”
Taylor felt her chest tighten, “What’s up?” she asked.
“I talked to Anna- that’s Matty’s publicist, and his manager Jamie agreed, you guys need to take a cute selfie together, for him to post on instagram for your birthday, the relationship hints have done well in the press- him wearing the shirt yesterday was awesome and very well received, so we think it’s time to confirm the rumors with a birthday post.” Tree said.
“Okay,” said Taylor, she wasn’t sure why she was surprised, her birthday was being used to further the agenda.
“Anna and Jamie are going to get in touch with Matty about it- I saw the pictures of him entering your apartment on Twitter- make sure he takes a shower or something before the concert. I’ll see you tonight.” Tree said before hanging up.
She heard a knock coming from the atrium and realized she had locked Matty out in the little space. He looked more relaxed, less on edge as she let him back in.
“So I hear we need to make a birthday post,” he said, holding up his iPhone. His own team must have gotten into contact while he was having a cigarette.
“Thanks for doing this,” Taylor said honestly.
Matty shrugged, “I didn’t really have a choice, but you’re not so bad,” he paused. “Now come here so we can do this, I’ve also been told I apparently need to shower and make myself look ‘less like shit’ which I’m not sure how anyone else knows what I look like right now but I digress.”
“There are pictures on Twitter already of you entering my apartment,” Taylor said with a flush.
Matty just sighed. “I don’t know why I’m even surprised.”
“You seem a lot calmer about this than before,” Taylor acknowledged.
Matty just shrugged again, tugging Taylor in closer, flipping his camera around to be front facing. His eyes were red she noticed in the camera image mirrored back at them.
“Smile love,” he said and Taylor smiled, then recoiled in shock and laughter as the shutter went off just as Matty licked her cheek.
Tree sent a thumbs up emoji a few minutes later with a screenshot of Matty’s post. His eyes were closed behind his glasses, his messy curls wild as he licked a strip up her cheek, Taylor’s own mouth was open in shock and laughter, her own locks ruffled. The caption was simply “Happy Birth.” It had only been up for four minutes, but had already amassed twenty thousand likes. There was no going back now. Their “relationship” was officially public.