Chapter 9
Taylor took a deep breath, she wanted to run back to her bedroom, she wanted to crawl under the blankets and hide from the world. She wanted to nurse her lingering hangover and not think about Karlie or Matty or Cara or the fact that she was Taylor Fucking Swift and when she tracked down her iPhone she was going to have more text messages than she knew what to do with from Tree, offering a a debrief of last night.
She didn’t want to think that there were probably pictures of her and Matty kissing in the photo booth all over social media, that they had been released to the tabloids by Tree in good faith. Not only that, but they had attended Jingle Ball together, that meant there were sure to be pictures of them backstage, purposely sitting too close together, Matty with his arm around her shoulders as he sipped on a glass of wine. She didn’t want to think of the way Karlie had kissed her last night, how she had wanted her too, how she had wanted to slip her hands under her dress and never let her go even with Josh waiting downstairs.
But she couldn’t do any of those things. She took another deep breath and squared her shoulders, she knew she looked like shit. She still hadn’t washed her face, meaning there was eyeliner smudged down the side of her cheek. She was still wearing Matty’s dirty tee shirt and there was vomit in her hair, but this was her house and Karlie had shown up uninvited. She might not have wanted to agree with her, but Karlie was right, Matty wasn’t her keeper, he wasn’t even actually her boyfriend, but even if he was, it wouldn’t have been his battle.
“Did I hear my name?” she asked, walking into the kitchen, sweaty bare feet sticking to the hardwood floor, trying to sound aloof and unaffected, she frowned, exaggerating the way she did so when she made eye contact with Karlie. Of course she still looked perfect, wearing leggings and a cashmere sweater, her winter coat folded over her arm. Taylor wished she had at least taken her makeup off. She hadn’t cared when she thought she would just be seeing Matty in the kitchen, but she did now. “What are you doing here?”
She specifically didn’t give Karlie a chance to answer, she stepped behind Matty, who was sitting on one of the barstools and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, she could feel him tense up and mentally willed him to hold it together. She made eye contact with Karlie as she did so, before leaning down to kiss his cheek, his still shower damp curls tickling her own skin. “I missed you,” she murmured. She felt a pang of guilt as she waited for him to relax, she knew she was using him as a human shield, a pawn in the game of chess that she and Karlie were playing, but she tried to justify it, Matty knew why he was there.
“I thought we could talk,” said Karlie, seeming unsure of herself for the first time in all the years that Taylor had known her. She glanced at Matty uncertainty, and Taylor resisted the urge to smile, having found a crack in Karlie’s impenetrable armor.
“I thought we did that last night,” Taylor said coolly.
“Come on, Tay-” Karlie started but Taylor shook her head, regretting the motion even as she did it, the quick movement making her feel light headed and the room tilt. She was never drinking again.
“No, you can’t just show up at my house and let yourself in, we’re not together anymore it’s extremely rude and invasive.” Taylor said firmly. If Karlie was surprised that Taylor was speaking so candidly about their relationship in front of Matty she didn’t show it, or she didn’t notice. “I thought I made it clear that you weren’t welcome here anymore.”
Karlie looked down at the counter top, a counter top she had once fucked Taylor against, before looking back up, her green eyes wet.
“I miss you,” she said quietly, “I miss my best friend.”
Taylor sighed, not sure why they needed to keep rehashing this same argument. “You had me,” Taylor said. “You had me and you decided you didn’t want me anymore.”
Matty subtlety reached behind himself to give her bare leg an encouraging squeeze. Taylor hoped he didn’t notice the prickle of hair on her upper thigh, she hadn’t done as thorough of a job of shaving her legs as she should have. Despite that, Taylor was thankful for the warm weight of his back to lean against, though she was careful not to press down with her full weight, lest she crush him. She’s not sure she would have been able to stay upright without him. She wondered if she was going to throw up again, but she also didn’t know how there was anything left. She was dehydrated, she needed water desperately.
“I was scared,” Karlie said, and Taylor resisted the urge to laugh.
“You think I wasn’t?” she asked, “I had a lot more to lose than you did, and I’m sorry but that’s the truth.” She took a breath. “But the past is the past now, and we can’t change it, I’ve moved on, you’ve moved on. You keep saying that you want to be friends, and then keep doing things that are very unfriendly.”
Karlie opened her mouth as if to argue but Taylor continued before she had a chance to. “We can try and be friends, but that’s all it’s going to be,” Taylor said, “No more ambushing me, no more ‘wanting to talk alone,’ no more being rude to my boyfriend and no more showing up and letting yourself into my house uninvited.”
“I’m sorry,” Karlie said, though Taylor wondered if she knew what she was apologizing for, and if she actually meant it. Taylor wondered if they even knew how to be just friends. She wasn’t sure what would hurt more, having Karlie in her life as just a friend or not having her at all.
“Me too,” said Taylor and Karlie nodded, pulling her coat back on as she did so.
“Call me?” she asked, heading towards the front door, and this time it was Taylor’s turn to nod.
“Sure,” she said even though it would be a while before she was ready too. When she heard the front door open and click shut she let go of Matty and groaned. That felt too easy. Karlie didn’t usually back off that easily from something she wanted.
“Morning love,” said Matty, and Taylor took a moment to study his face. He looked a lot more alive than she felt, even if there was a soft, sleepy air about him. His pupils were pricked in the low light of her kitchen, his eyelids heavy. He reached up and rubbed at his nose absentmindedly with the sleeve of his hoodie and she really hoped that he wasn’t actually getting sick because she knew that with their close proximity there was no way she wouldn’t catch it as well. She didn’t have time to get sick. There was an album to promote and holidays to finish preparing for.
“Morning,” she said, going over to the refrigerator and pulling out a blue gatorade, they were both ignoring the fact that it was very much not morning anymore. She moved to sit down next to him at the counter, pulling out one of the barstools when she froze.
“She didn’t leave the key did she?” Taylor asked.
Matty chuckled darkly, “no she did not.”
Taylor groaned and rested her head on the counter, the granite was cool and felt nice against her aching forehead. She really was going to have to call and have her locks changed. She sat up, opening her gatorade, and taking a careful sip as she turned in Matty’s direction, waiting a moment to confirm it was going to stay down before taking another. She let her gaze actually focus on him and frowned, watching in horror.
“Are you seriously drinking a beer right now?” she asked, mystified as Matty raised a bottle of Coors Light, left over from the party to his lips, she could see the condensation dripping down the sides of the glass bottle, meaning it was at least cold.
“Yes?” he asked, “haven’t you ever heard of the hair of the dog? Surefire way to cure a hangover.”
“I’m never drinking again,” Taylor stated darkly, resting her forehead on the counter again.
Matty chuckled, “are you sure you don’t want one? It will make you feel better. I swear, I’m English, we know these things.”
“I will actually throw up,” Taylor said, her voice muffled by her arms, “again, I mean.”
“Suit yourself,” said Matty, taking another swig. He paused, lowering the bottle to the counter. “You should probably eat something though,” he said thoughtfully. “Do you know where the caterers put the leftover chicken tenders?”
“I sent them home with them,” she said, her stomach grumbling at the mention of food, she wasn’t sure if it was because she found the idea of food appealing or appalling. She was glad she had the foresight to send the leftovers home with the caterers. She didn’t need the temptation of them in the house, especially with her resolve being as weak as it was at the moment. She felt emotionally vulnerable thanks to another unnecessary encounter with Karlie, and how miserably hungover she still felt.
Even with her head in her arms, she could feel the way that Matty was frowning. “Why would you do that?” he whined. “You don’t have any other food in your fridge, I already checked, and I finished the cookies you made last night.”
“You’re in the city that never sleeps,” she grumbled, “just fucking order something if you’re hungry.”
Matty sighed, presumably pulling out his phone to try and do just that. He poked Taylor’s head after a moment, causing her to look up blurrily.
“What?” she grumbled.
“One, what do you want, and two, what’s your address?” he asked.
“I’m not hungry,” Taylor lied, the more she thought about food,the hungrier she became. Matty just sighed.
“I’m getting Chinese,” he said, “pick something, it will make you feel better.”
“I don’t want anything,” Taylor snapped, something in her chest hurting before rattling off her address. Food was a delicate subject for her and she didn’t enjoy the way that Matty kept trying to bring it to the forefront of her attention. She needed to go on a cleanse or something after last night. With the amount of liquor she had consumed, she had probably drunk more calories than she ate in a week. Her tour was going to be starting in a few months, she needed to be in top shape, she needed to be prepared for the show. But not only that, she was scheduled to perform on New Year’s Eve, and the black pants and crop top she was wearing had already been tailored to fit like a second skin.
“Do you like egg rolls?” he asked, “because I’m getting egg rolls, and also crab rangoons, and fried rice,”
“Just get me steamed veggies or something,” she said after a moment, realizing he wasn’t going to let up.
“That’s not very good hangover food,” he acknowledged, hitting a few more buttons on his phone, but hopefully added it to the order anyway.
“Should be here in thirty minutes,” he said, setting his phone back on the counter. “Also do you have cash because I am fresh out of American money and I don’t think the delivery driver will want pounds.”
“There’s some in the drawer by the refrigerator,” Taylor said, “take what you need when it gets here.”
She sighed, pulling herself into an upright seated position. “I need to shower,” she said, she had finished three fourths of the gatorade, and while she was specifically not thinking about the sugar content in the drink, she did have to admit that it was making her feel marginally better.
“I can entertain myself while I wait for the food,” Matty said, “I should probably call George anyway, see how his flight was.”
The way he said it gave Taylor pause, he sounded like it was something he was putting off, an event he was avoiding, rather than jumping at the chance to talk to his boyfriend. She didn’t want to press though, it wasn’t her place to press. Despite waking up tangled together this morning, and Matty’s front row seat to the mess that was her romantic entanglement with Karlie, Taylor was grimly aware of the fact that she didn’t really know Matty, and he didn’t know her. They weren’t actually together, they weren’t even actually friends, at least not yet. She really hoped that they would at least be able to become friends. It would be nice to have a friend.
“Maybe we can watch a movie after? While we eat?” Taylor offered, it was a peace offering, a thank you.
“Only if I can choose,” Matty agreed and Taylor smiled, standing up on shaky legs.
“Fine,” she agreed, assuming Matty would pick some pretentious art film that she would then pretend to care about.
He smiled.
*
“We don’t have to watch a movie,” Taylor said, the third time she caught Matty nodding off, only to wake himself up again when his chin hit his chest. He blinked, sleepy and blurry. He reached up and rubbed at his eyes behind the lens of his glasses, his curls loose and messy around his face in the dim light of the home theater.
“I’m fine,” he said, his words slurred with exhaustion, adjusting the blanket he was curled under, “I’m watching.”
“Could have fooled me,” Taylor grumbled, shifting her weight, tugging on the edge of Matty’s blanket so it covered her more fully as well. She’s not sure how, pressed together in the theater recliners, the center armrest pushed up and out of the way, Matty had still managed to completely hog the oversized king down comforter she had dragged out of the linen closet for their movie night. He was shorter than she was, and probably weighed less as well, but he was gripping that blanket like it was the only thing between him and certain death.
By the time she had showered and their food came, they ended up eating in the kitchen, Matty practically inhaling the egg rolls while Taylor pretended she loved steamed broccoli, it had been nearly 5:00pm.
She felt itchy, stressed and anxious that she had wasted the day. She should have been doing something productive, interacting with her fans on Tumblr, writing for the next album, even finishing the last of her Christmas shopping. Instead, she did none of those things. She had slept away most the day on the bathroom floor and was now trying to have a bonding moment with Matty, watching a movie of his choosing, and to her annoyance he could barely be bothered to stay awake for it.
And of course of all the hundreds of thousands of movies out there, Matty had requested they watch Frozen and Taylor had nearly balled her eyes out thinking of Karlie when Elsa fled from the palace. Luckily, Matty hadn’t noticed, he had nodded off, only jerking awake this time when Taylor had elbowed him in the ribs.
“Oh my god,” said Taylor, tugging on the blanket again as it drifted further and further away from her. “Stop hogging the fucking blanket.” She wasn’t sure how he managed to keep such a grip on the blanket when he could barely keep a grip on consciousness. After harassing her about singing it in the bathroom, he had slept through the scene where Elsa sang Let It Go.
“I’m cold,” Matty whined, his expression unreadable and Taylor grumbled, hooking her arm around his shoulders to pull him closer into her side, so that they were properly cuddling now, sharing body heat, her arm around him like a child hugging a stuffed animal. She could feel his hip bone digging into her side as he squirmed before finally accepting that he was trapped and falling still, leaning back against her in resignation with a sigh.
Taylor took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of cigarette smoke and her soap on Matty’s skin, failing to mask the tang of alcohol leaking from his pores. She wasn’t sure if it was a remnant of last nights over indulgence or if he had really been drinking all afternoon. Maybe that’s why he kept falling asleep, she thought bitterly, watching as the trolls sang their song on the big screen, he was drunk. Maybe he hadn’t been exaggerating when he had announced that he was an alcoholic during their first meeting. She sighed, feeling guilty. She knew Matty wasn’t an alcoholic, and he clearly wasn’t drunk at the moment, just tired, she was being mean even inside her own head.
“What now?” Taylor asked as Matty started squirming again, Anna and Kristoff racing back to the palace to find true love. He was shifting his weight against her as if he was trying to wiggle out of her grip and untangle himself from the blankets.
“I have to piss,” he said, and Taylor released him, letting him stumble to his feet like a baby deer.
“Second door on the left is a bathroom,” Taylor said, finding the remote wedged in the cushion now that Matty was standing and pausing the movie.
“Thanks,” he said, closing the door behind him.
Taylor sighed and pulled her phone out of the side pocket of her leggings, seeing another message from Tree with a link to another article about her and Matty. Thankfully, the seemingly official launch of her and Matty’s “relationship” was going well. An “anonymous source” close to the “new couple,” also known as Tree feeding information to the press, had made sure to report that they had been all over each other backstage at Jingle Ball, and at her birthday party. Tree had even posted one of the pictures of her and Matty in the photobooth for her on instagram, simply captioning the photo “25.”
They did look good together on a superficial level, Taylor thought, opening instagram to look at the photo again. His dark hair and eyes were an appealing contrast to her own blonde hair and blue eyes, he added a bit of grit to her image that seemed to be going over all with both of their fanbases, thousands of comments proclaiming them their OTP and requesting that they work on music together. Taylor wondered if that was something Matty would be open to.
She heard the toilet flush and the sound of the sink running, Matty reappearing a moment later, drying his hands on his joggers as he made his way back over. He dropped back down onto the recliner, and resituated himself against Taylor’s side, adjusting the blanket so that it covered both of them fully.
He sighed, “okay,” he said, “I’m ready.”
“We don’t have to watch the movie if you don’t want to,” Taylor said what felt like the hundredth time. “It was just a suggestion.” She wasn’t actually sure what else they would do though, Matty was clearly exhausted and she still wasn’t feeling her best either.
“No I do,” Matty said, even though his tone sounded like he would rather do literally anything else. Taylor looked at him expectantly and he sighed. “George and I got into a little tiff, and now I have a ‘eadache.”
Taylor wasn’t sure what she had been expecting but it wasn’t that.
“Do you want some Advil?” she asked, thinking about the bottle most likely still rolling around her bedroom.
“No, I took some,” he said. He looked sad, she realized, the unreadable expression, illuminated by the light of the frozen movie screen, was sadness.
“Do you,” she paused, not really wanting to overstep any boundaries but also not totally sure where the boundary was, “want to talk about it?"
Matty sighed, “not really, if I’m being honest.”
Taylor hummed, nudging Matty forward, remembering vaguely how much he had enjoyed her playing with his hair when they were drunk the night before. “Move over,” she said and he obliged without question, taking the blanket with him. He was shivering slightly she realized and made a mental note to turn the heat on before they went to bed. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he was cold.
“What are you doing?” he asked, melting under her touch as she ran her fingers through his messy hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as she separated the strands, on one hand it would be easier to do with a brush, but on the other, she knew brushing the curls would just cause them to frizz.
“Braiding your hair,” she said simply, relaxing into the methodical act of separating and then grouping the strands together to cross them over one another, careful not to make the french braid too tight, lest the tension make his headache worse. When she was a child and feeling poorly her mother would braid her hair, the simple act always making her feel loved and cared for. She hoped it would have the same effect on Matty.
“Okay,” he said softly, relaxing under her touch. He was asleep again by the time Taylor had finished.